November 22 to 25
Our next stop was the quiet country city of Lampang, chosen as somewhere different between Bangkok and Chiang Mia, a slice of genuine Thai life, without the tourists. First though we had to get there…
Due to our customary lack of planning by the time we decided to go North all of the sleeper berths on the overnight trains had been booked, so I settled for a second class seat, which looked vaguely OK from the photos. When we finally boarded the train in Bangkok (at the biggest, most modern and most empty train station I’ve ever seen) we were grateful to have avoided the hard benches in third class, and settled into our seats for the 10 hour journey.
The carriage was old – air conditioning consisted of open windows and ceiling mounted fans and the lurid lights stayed on all night. Around us locals and backpackers produced all manner of useful things, like neck pillows, blankets and eye masks, while we attempted to make ourselves comfortable with a couple of towels. The train rattled and rolled out of the station, and then stopped and stopped and then stopped some more, before setting off at an alarming pace through what I imagine was beautiful countryside – but no idea, because it was dark.
Sleep was fitful, and I strongly recommend booking ahead to get the rudimentary sleeper berth. Being horizontal would have been lovely. Instead we slowly slumped into uncomfortable unconsciousness.
Eventually dawn broke and we slowly chugged into Lampang, about 80 miles south of Chiang Mia. Nikki confidently predicted that there’d be a whole bunch of us backpackers aiming to sample the quiet vibe of rural Thailand. As it turned out it was just us and a bunch of locals, while everyone else steamed off on the party train.
Lampang was exactly what it promised to be – a quiet provincial city, although it’s not small at all, it’s the third biggest city in northern Thailand. Our accommodation, Le Neuf, was once again lovely, set in among a bunch of local peoples’ homes. From there we wandered out into the city, exploring the inevitable temples and walking here, there and here again. We rarely fail to walk the wrong way.
Rural it might be, but the city is lovely. With few tourists the place is much more geared up for locals – although there do appear to be quite a few ex-pats living there. On the first night Nikki navigated us to One Bhat, so called because that’s what the rice costs, where we had a fantastic meal for hardly anything, before sitting by the river for a couple of late night beers in what we would affectionately call “Mosquito Central”. My recommendation for anyone travelling in South East Asia is go with someone who mosquitos think is tastier than them. Works for me, although Nikki was looking like a measles victim in the morning.
The following day we headed off to the Ceramics Museum, where we had a tour of the factory which makes the famous (?) Chicken Bowl. Lampang is the chicken city – and boy does it make sure you know. Everywhere you go there are pictures and models of chickens as well as actual chickens, generally making themselves heard.
The factory tour was excellent, complete with demonstrations of throwing and moulding. The process has upgraded since the factory started in 1965 and now ‘throws’ out 5000 or so products per day. The decoration is still by hand. Motivated we then got to demonstrate our own artistic talents – note we went for elephants rather than chickens – we know not to fight a losing battle…
We then diverted to Louis T. Leonowen’s house. He was a teak magnate (as well as being the son of the real-life Anna, tutor of the son of the King of Siam, aka the King and I) and his house and estate ought to be a real attraction. Sadly they’ve been left to run down, with little explanation of what you’re seeing. The house sits in the Tha Ma-O community. The Tha Ma O are descendants of the community who were employed and lived around the teak trading businesses. They continue to live in close knit groups and also, uniquely in Thailand, use pony and carts to get around – this is now a tourist thing.
We ended the day in the Night Market, where Nikki bought various mystery foods and generally enjoyed herself, while I waited for a beer and a sit down meal. Everyone ended the day happily and we wandered back along the river where they were getting ready for Loy Kratong (the festival of lights, where everyone floats little flower boats with candles on out onto the river).
Fireworks were fizzing everywhere, often being launched erratically by teenagers, and lanterns and decorations were going up in preparation. More on Loy Krathong later as we are heading to Chiang Mai for this.
On our final day we hired mopeds from a Italian guy, Fransisco, who used to live in Bournemouth and headed out to see the countryside where we had coffee served to us by a bloke from Brighton, home visiting his family. As usual in Thailand sightseeing means visiting temples but the Wat Doi Prachan Mae Tha was truly spectacular, set on top of a hill, boasting an enormous Budda, and quite humbling views.
We then ate lunch in a rural restaurant, that seemed to open just for us. We obviously tried to enter someone’s house first as Nikki was holding google maps upside down and we went right instead of left. Once the helpful lady, who ran out to as where we were going, had got her glasses on she took us over the road and handed us to her friend who took us to the restaurant. The young woman on duty at ‘Uncle Chan’s café’ looked a little put out at having customers, and to be fair the rest of the town were enjoying a raucous wedding, however the stir-fried rice was exceptional. The prawns were the freshest Nik has tasted (she said). All for 80 baht – that’s £1.80 to you. With full tummies we headed back to enjoy the evening Walking Market, which happens every Saturday.
It’s called a Walking Market because it involves one hell of a lot of walking. The thing was enormous. The night before we’d walked down the same streets and we were the only people on them – now, suddenly, there were hundreds of stalls and thousands of people. Plus, I was glad to see, some open bars.
As elsewhere on our trip, everyone but everyone was friendly, kind and helpful. When we returned our mopeds the following morning (with rucksacks wedged between our legs feeling like locals) Fransisco and his father-in-law ferried us to the bus station (also on mopeds) to save us the long, hot walk. Summed up Lampang, and Thailand. Kindness everywhere but time to move on. We had to catch up with the party train – Chiang Miaawaits.
– Tim