On to Ubon Ratchathani

Our steed of the day, the mighty Bangkok Direct.

It was a travel day, but not an "oh-my-gawd-my-aching-ass" sort of travel day.  More of a jaunt as it were.  The best train for us was the Direct, not to be confused with the Express or the Rapid.  None of the trains are really fast, but the Direct is a little less slow.  Basically, the Ordinary is as slow as it gets.  Bumped onto the siding as lowest priority, it stops in the middle of nowhere as well as stopping at every hamlet with a colonial train station.  The Express and Rapid are neither, cost more than the Ordinary, and stop at almost every station.  Both are pretty lazy in the speed department as well.  We have been unable to tell the difference between the two except a slight variation in price.  The Direct is, well, not direct, but the number of stops are limited and it does move right along by Thai standards.  From Surin to Ubon Ratchathani the Express is three-plus hours and by Direct it was just two.  

Countryside, rice fields, more rice fields, water buffalo, villages, rice fields, big golden Buddhas, a few more rice fields, and then there was Ubon Ratchanthani, the end of the Northeastern Rail Line.  Set on the Moon River in a watery landscape of sloughs and marshes, Ubon Ratchanthani serves as a transportation hub.  IT is close to Laos and to Cambodia. There is also a modern history of warfare and enlightenment.   In the 1960's, US forces built the massive Udon R. Airport and from same they bombed the good folks of Vietnam.  During the same time period, there were Americans here in Udon R. Who were studying with Thai Buddhist monks of the Forest school.  Some of these Americans returned to the USA to spread the teachings of the Forest School of Buddhism.  Other newly ordained monks stayed here in the local monasteries.  

The train station is a good bit out of town and would make an unpleasant and very warm walk.  My One quickly spotted the Songtheuw line and we hopped the first one heading out.  Pickup trucks with bench seats and an overhead sheet metal canopy, Songtheuw are the way the locals get around town.  Ten baht for any run, no matter the distance.  When you see someplace that looks interesting, press the red button, the bell rings, and you jump out.  My One got a seat.  

I stood on the platform handing off the back of the little truck.

Once across the Moon River into Ubon Ratchathani proper, I mashed the red button and we were out on the street.  A short two-block walk brought us to where I thought the guesthouse was.  Before we could slip out of our packs for a look at the map, an old Thai gent waved us on, pointing down the small street.  Again, what else would two Farrang with pack packs be looking for.

Fierce guard dogs protected the Ratchbut 28 guesthouse.

The place was there, complete with attack dogs, and a sign with a number to call.  Fortunately My Heart's Euro SIM worked and help was on the way whilst we waited on the patio out of the burning sun.

The fierce guard dogs did a great job of keeping me from getting up to any mischief.

Our 350 baht room, complete with a view of the Moon River and the cooler breeze off of it.  This is much more typical of a backpacker guesthouse, something you would find in the North of Thailand or Bangkok.  A very, very firm mattress with the world's smallest pillows.  The mattresses get harder as one gets closer to Lao.  It must have something to do with the gravitational pull of the Mekong River.

A Wat in our back yard.

A room with a view.  What else does one require?

Showered and refreshed, we hung out on the terrace and soaked up the cool breeze.  With the day market across the street and the river front a just below us, we were in a prime location.  And noisy.

Aqua-culture along the Moon River.

Enough lounging around, time to get out for walk-about.  We headed down river on the promenade.  This is obviously the place to be on a Friday night.  There were a series of bars and BBQ joints just setting up their riverside seating.  Most everyone was gleefully ignoring the posted signs banning alcohol or smoking.  Speakers were set up and one could see the beginning of a battle of the bands.  When the Thai bars line up next to each other, it becomes a wattage competition to see who can drown out who's music.  The resulting cacophony can be a little overwhelming.  

We traipsed back into town proper and found the local food market, just getting set up.  Oh-yay, Oh-yay, time for the eating to begin.

Vietnamese-style crepes stuffed with pork and vege.  Rice balls in the bowl to the left.

I went for the crepe, which comes with a bowl of yummy mixed greens and sauce.  Wonderful and a nice change.

My One opted for the pork dumplings topped with, ta-da!  More pork.

The night came on and with it some elaborate festivities at the City Shrine.  There were dancers, drummers and lots and lots of folks.  We stood respectfully for the Thai National anthem, then wandered about.

For me, the highlight of the show was the dragon acrobats.  Two guys in a dragon suit leaped around on the platform, doing handstands and tricks.  Other dancers in goofy masks goaded the dragon on.  The crowd loved it.  

As we walked out of the park, we were able to witness the Night Market springing, literally, to life.  Elapsed time from when the cops closed of the street to shoppers in the market was about 25 minutes.  Empty street to market in less than a half-hour.  In case you don't believe me.....

Here is the link to the video as the frantic market prep starts:

http://youtu.be/gaDrnG1B21c

Here is the link to the video as the market swings into life.  This was taken in the same spot as the first, about 25 minutes later:

http://youtu.be/szxuYVn41f8

There was more food and more market strolling, then dessert.  There were a few yawns, then a few more.  The day was catching up with us in the best possible way.  We headed back to the guesthouse full and happy, ready to let the end of the evening and the river slip by below our terrace.

A Wat in the Night.

Another great day in the Isaan region of Thailand.  Tomorrow will be a simple walk-about in Udon R.  Until then, it's Ciao for Now Friends and Neighbors!

 

Lazy Daze

You know, a day without tentacles is like a day without sunshine.  Or tentacles.

It was supposed to be a lazy day, a free day, a "Go where you want My Heart" sort of day.  And in fact it was.  Given that nothing much happened, it would seem that there would be nothing to write about.  However, besides being a lazy day, it turned into a food day and a people day.  

The silliness of the day started at this place, a tidy little food joint on the main drag in Surin.  Not only was the place pretty and spotlessly clean, the owner was a character.  Dressed in serious flood water trousers that were yanked even higher by his suspenders, he looked much like what I imagine a Thai hobbit would look like.  As we were ordering our noodles, he treated us to an elaborately pantomimed language lesson, repeated at loud volume for solid recall.  

Then there were the noodles.  Serious stuff this, fine egg noodles with beautifully BBQ'd pork and morning glory greens.  Everything about this bowl of noodles was perfect.  More reminiscent of Japan than Thailand, they were a treat.  Just when I might think "Oh, ho-hum, noodles again..." Some bowl of wonderment gobsmacks me back into culinary reality.  

After lunch, My Heart wandered off to do girl-stuff type shopping.  Left to my own devices, I walked back towards the digs with every intent of catching up the blog without experiencing anything that I might feel compelled to contemplate or write about.  So, head down, keep walking, don't notice anything and...

I almost clonked my head on the straw of the Drink Truck.  What do you suppose these ladies sell?

Okay, no more input.  Walk back to the hotel, easy and... I bump into the amulet stands.  As I am an aficionado of Thai amulets, of course I have to hang around and sort through the goods.  The Thai vendors see my amulet and of course we have to compare notes and one thing leads to another and there goes another half-hour.  

Eventually I did make it back to the guesthouse.  I grabbed a cigar, camped out in front of the cafe' with an Americano, and churned out the blog backlog.  Besides that small achievement, I researched our next destination and planned a date-night out in Surin.  Not bad for a Farrang slacker boy.

My Heart returned from a relaxing Thai massage and we whiled away the few hours before dinner time.  With the clouds growing heavy on the horizon, we set out to find out dinner spot, remembering to bring the bumbershoot.  

In Thailand, finding a place can be most of the battle.  Just as I gave up hope, we found the joint we were looking for, a sparkling glass fronted Thai family restaurant.  We were welcomed in and ushered to the last open table.  From here on, the culinary hits just kept on coming.  The menu was daunting, more for the sheer scale of the thing than the language issues.  Glossy picture of great dishes had us locked in the paradox of choice.  I asked for a recommendation (in Thai!!  Yes I did.  Really.  Yes, the owner actually understood me!) and the dishes stared rolling up to the table.  One of the owner's daughters or nieces or who-knows hovered nearby to fill our soda waters or bring some other delectable.  It was the Royal treatment indeed, a far cry from sitting on the curb in the Night Market.

First up was Morning Glory greens sautéed in chilies and tons of garlic.  Just the thing to get those gastronomic juices flowing.

On the heels of the greens came a fried chicken, cashew and water chestnut stir fry.  Just parsing out the various backnotes of the spices and herbs was a treat, much less the overall yumminess.  

Save the fire for the fiery finale.  The heat of Isaan is packed into this minced pork Laarb, a much more Laotian than Thai dish.  This region is a crossroads of culture, with Thai, Khmer, Vietnamese and Chinese influences all playing a part.

The Laarb was fiery with chilies, but before the fire was on the tongue, there was a wash of lime leaf and lemongrass.  It was as if the flavours were set for a timed detonation across the palate.  Lime leaf BOOM!  Lemongrass KABAM!  And then the chilies for a long burning crescendo.  Amazing!

We finished the repast with a lovely cooling fruit plate.  After a four-course meal for two, being waited on hand and foot, our total bill with tip came to 320 Baht, or just about $10.  

Walking off our meal, we started chatting with some local guys hanging out on the sidewalk.  A bit of Thai, a bit of english.  When I remembered the name of the fanatically followed local football team, there were cheers all around and even a hug for me.  Crazy fun.  

The samlor (tricycle taxi) guys were sleeping off a hard day's pedaling as we meandered back through the quiet streets.  Another wonderful day in Isaan, a day punctuated with food and the friendliness of the local folk.  Damn I love this place.

Tomorrow we journey even further east, deeper into the heart of Isaan.  And, as always Friends and Neighbors, I bid you Ciao for Now!

 

A Trip to Nowhere

We walked past the City Shrine in the late morning, wandering around the provincial city of Surin, Thailand.  In the heart of Isaan, the rural heartland of this country, Surin is a city of about 200,000.  The day was hot and sultry, like any other day here during the rainy season.  It is not that it rains all the time, or even everyday.  Imagine a bunch of big monsoon clouds roaming around the countryside looking for something to rain on.  The clouds are big and puffy and beautiful if they are not directly overhead.  If they are overhead, and a cool breeze starts to puff at you, it's time to find an awning or cafe' to hide under or in.  

Lazing away the morning, we finally roused ourselves to walk towards the bus station to begin our journey of the day, an attempt to reach the Khmer ruins at Phanom Rung.  This site is basically in the middle of nowhere on the route to the Cambodian border.

Our steed of the day, a big aircon bus that was to drop us at the village of Baan Tako.  After some discussion with the ticket guys, we were directed to this bus where we waited for the better part of an hour.  Buses leave when they leave, yes?  Patience Grasshopper, and not for the last time today.

As an aside, this is what a traveler can expect in a Thai bus station bathroom.  Just so you know.

It is handy to be on the bus when one of those aforementioned clouds decides to park overhead.  In twenty minutes the sky was clear again.  So it is in the monsoon season.

For two hours we rolled across the Isaan countryside.  A bus ride is a bus ride, complete with stops in  local towns and the coming and going of the locals.  It is a great and cramped way to get in touch with how folks really travel here.  Six-foot westerners be warned, your knees will be touching the seat in front of you.

Baan Tako is a small village on the main highway.  Phanom Rung is 12 kilometers away.  Too far to walk.  It was time to negotiate with the Moto taxi crew.  One Farrang to a scooter, 350 baht each.  That's a good off-season rate from the quoted 500 baht in the Travel Fish guide.  For that amount the Moto guys will schlep you to the ruins, wait for you, and schlep you back.  The ride is half the fun.  Warning:  This is not for the faint of heart.

Here is a little video of the ride:

http://youtu.be/prueUnZIxfs

Safely at the top with our guys.

Phanom Rung was a Khmer empire site from about the 9th century CE to the fall of the Khmer empire in the 1300's.  The main temple is built in the Ankor Wat style with the surrounding walls and smaller towers being older.  It is smaller site, but it's appeal lies in the fact that is was virtually intact when the Thai authorities took over the site after World War II.  Aside from the missing plaster and white-wash, a visitor can get a sense of what it actually looked like when it was in use as a Hindu worship site.

Approaching the temple.

Naga, the ubiquitous guardians of temples.

The main entrance featuring Yogiswamurti.

The main tower.  The light and time of day was horrible for photos, so I apologize.

Exploring the smaller pavilions.

After an hour of exploring it was time to rendezvous with our Moto guys for the ride back to Baan Tako.  Then there was the hanging out on the side of the highway waiting for a bus to Surin.  Not a bus station in sight, just a covered pavilion and the Moto guys waiting for fares off the next bus into the village.  After a shortish wait by Thai standards, we were squashed into a full bus and on our way.  This was the speedy bus crew, anxious to complete their run.  Ninety minutes later we pulled into Surin and hiked to the market for a well-deserved walking dinner in the night market.

Pork skewers, sticky rice (ohhhhh, sticky rice!!) and a fried mussel omelet.  That was just to get us back on our feet again.  

Fried Rice Balls!!  These little babies will put the calories back where they belong.  The stall woman was so sweet, giving us an extra rice ball at no extra charge.  So good, so damn good.  There was more, including a stop at the little bakery stall in the market for Thai jelly donuts, but I was too sated to manage any more photos.

So, the question is, was it worth it?  We expended more than five hours of traveling to spend one hour touring a forgotten temple on top of an extinct volcano in the middle-of-nowhere Isaan.  I suppose it comes down to an exercise in attitude.  This is a fine example of the sum of the journey being more than the destination alone.  If the journey itself, complete with the waiting and the uncertainty, becomes part of the reward then yes, it is definately worth it.  Without enjoying the process and challenge of getting there and getting back, overcoming the language barrier with smiles, partaking in the bartering for transport, and all the facets of a long day trip across seldom traveled routes, then the destination itself is not a sufficient reward.  Adding all of those things together, however, learning to enjoy the challenges as they come, that brings a reward in and of itself.  Of course, there are always the bragging rights for having accomplished the deed, tales to tell around the traveler campfire.

Another day in Isaan done, we heading for our cozy guesthouse.  From Surin, Thailand, I bid you Ciao for Now!

Surin

We shouldered our packs and bade Rakhon Ratchasima a fond walking farewell.  Keeping to the shade to dodge the late morning heat, we stayed under the trees as much as possible.  In this part of the world, every growing thing is trying to wrest the terrain back from human interference.  It would not take too many years for the strong roots of plants to overwhelm a Thai city.  Even the wonders of Ankor Wat were almost completely submerged in jungle growth when they were "rediscovered" by Western archeologists.  

Our train station.  Most of the stations look like throwbacks to a colonial era, which is exactly what they are.  Quaint and relaxed (outside of Bangkok), the trains are a wonderful way to travel.  Without the highway clutter typical of Thai roadways, the train offers views of the countryside and landscape that are far superior to most bus rides.  Train routes are limited, but when they are available it is my first choice for a mode of transport.

This is what a typical 3rd class coach looks like.  Open windows, no aircon, rotating fans on the ceilings, this is our choice for a best ride.  The aircon in the 2nd class can freeze a rider to the bone.  Outside the coach, the food vendors are waiting on the arrival of the Surin train.  They have already worked the standing coach.  We were sort of adopted by the food vendors and the platform guards.  They were all very concerned that the poor lost Farrang got on the proper train.  Everyone was incredibly smiley and very interested in the weirdness of two western travelers riding the train during the rainy season.

Even the local cops checked us out, a slightly more pronounced police presence than the last time I was here.  The Military and police seem to be putting on a more public face since the last series of political upheavals in Thailand.  My One was a bit miffed that the cops took pictures of us, but they then redeemed themselves by saluting us (at attention no less) and asking us to pose with them for a group portrait, all with thumbs up, of course.  Welcome to Thailand.  

Soon we were rolling across the Isaan countryside, rocked by the narrow gauge rails and serenaded by the sing-song calls of the food vendors plying the aisle.  Isaan is flatty-flat flat-flat and Hotty-hot hot-hot.  For three hours we watched the rice paddies and sugar can fields roll by, broken only by swollen brown rivers and marshes.  Water buffalo floated around in the ditches, happy to escape the heat and flies in the swirling chocolaty water.  Here is one of the reasons that this region is largely ignored by the western tourists:  nothing much happens here.  The attractions of Isaan are much subtler than, say, Chiang Mai or the Islands.  There are no yoga classes here, no cooking courses, not much of anything in the way of "Big Sights."  This region is about people, a slow and friendly pace of life, and incredible food.  With a slight shift away from itinerary-based travel, Isaan becomes a paradise of discovery.  

Switching the trains the old fashioned way, real cable and lever track switches!!

Small shrines are a ubiquitous part of everyday Thai life, even in the Surin train station.  The english language signs, well, not so common.  

We stepped out of the Surin train station into the blast of the afternoon heat and humidity.  Surin's claim to fame is the elephant.  Chang, the Thai word for elephant, are a big deal here.  There is a huge Chang festival in November, the busiest time in Surin.  Elephant statues, signs and posters are everywhere.  Other than elephants, Surin is a smallish provincial Thai town.  There is nothing much happening here except for the elephant thing.  But I love smallish provincial Thai towns.  Some of my best adventures in Thailand have been in towns given the brush-off by Lonely Planet.  The fine folks at Travel Fish (highly recommended) are more open about the joys of these quieter places.  

A shortish but sweaty walk led us to our first choice for a guesthouse, which turned out to be closed for the season.  Fortunately we had a second choice.  More walking until we were drenched in sweat.  We dropped our bags in the shade and plopped down to consult the map.  Oh so close, but where was it.  Then we noticed two Thai ladies at the noodle stand across the street.  They were smiling and nodding and pointing up the small street we had stopped at.  We pointed the same way and they nodded and waved us on.  What else could a couple of Farrang with backpacks want but a guesthouse?  A short walk up the side street proved our directional angels to be correct.  We were soon ensconced in a fine aircon room, complete with a balcony, for a mere 450 baht ($13) per night.  This place would go for 2000 baht in Bangkok.  Another benefit of Isaan and the off-season.  Showering away the sweat and travel grime, we were ready to relax and take on the streets of Surin.

Step one in a new Thai town:  find the guesthouse.  Step two:  Find the market.  When one finds the public market, one finds the grub.  In this case, an incredibly friendly group of folks in the semi-darkness of the covered market area.  This guy was great.  With our bad Thai and some sign language we were soon digging in to plates of stir-fried wonderment.

The top plate is a mix of meats and seafood in a spicy Isaan base.  The lower plate is a mix of seafood.  Both were delicious.  Total cost for the meal was 90 Baht, about $2.50.  Yeah, Baby!

As the night comes on, the market scene changes.  No photo can capture the energy, sights, smells, or press of the crowd in a Thai market.  It is something that simply has to be experienced.  Stopping at on stall to admire a sweet rice cereal sort of concoction, the stall woman pressed a sample on us.  We were all smiles over the sweet treat.  She then insisted on gifting us a small bag of the treasure and refused all attempts at payment.  During the entire afternoon and evening, we did not see a single westerner on the streets.  

The last of the gloaming of the day.  If you look closely, you can see My Heart under the lights.

The only thing better than a Thai market is two Thai markets.  The day market is usually geared towards produce, meats, and edible goods.  Of course there are food stands to feed the hungry shoppers.  The Night Market is more of a social event, with food stalls and clothing for the locals.  Why shop during the heat of the day when you can enjoy the relative cool of the evening?

Sated, tired, and a bit footsore, we made our way back through the darkened streets to our nice cool room.  Another great travel day in Isaan comes to an end.  Tomorrow we will venture out into the countryside to try a visit to a Khmer temple located in the middle of nowhere.  But that is the stuff of the next blog post.  For now, as always, I bid you Ciao for Now!

Kohrat

Khorat, Korat, Nahon Ratchasima, all the same town.  With a population of about 500,000, it is a largish provincial Capitol.  Before I dive into the blog, there are a few factoid notes that I have to scribble down.

Firstly, I have always nattered on about how bad Thai coffee is and for years that was true.  Instant Nescafe with lots of canned milk and sugar was about the best a traveller could get.  Over last six years, I have witnessed real coffee start to appear in Bangkok.  Now, however, a coffee cafe' culture is springing to life.  According to a young Thai guy we talked to, the coffee scene has become a status symbol.  If one can afford to hang in a cafe' sipping (sugary) espresso, one is above the hoi polloi of the grubby market folks.  Whatever the reason, good and better coffee is available on a much more widespread basis, and not just in Bangkok.  Class struggle or not, I am reaping the benefits.

And... Factoid #2:

Khorat boasts a large Japanese Ex-pat community.  There are also a number of Japanese businesses and manufacturing facilities here in Khorat.  One result of this population is an inordinate number of Japanese restaurants.  After seeing some of the traffic through this windowless and unwelcoming establishment, we decided there was probably a bit more than tempura on the menu.  

It was a hot and sultry walk-about through the old city of Khorat.  There are still a few of the old teak building scattered here and there, but mostly the old town is no different than the new town except that it is surrounded by a moat.  Two and four story concrete shop housed dominate the architecture.  The wealth of Nakhon Rachtasima is not in it's sights, but in it's people.  Everywhere we went, It was smiles and open curiosity.  So far, we have simply not seen a single Farang (European traveler/tourist).

The clouds were hanging low and the air was thick enough to cut into blocks.  The old Wat in the old city is surrounded by "water" that is even greener and stranger looking than the moat that surrounds the rectangle of the old Khmer city.  Even with the plumes of neon green, the water seethed with life.  We saw a five-foot long water monitor slither into the green slime.  And, there were these guys:

The denizens of the Wat pond, the mouths of the catfish.  

If you are one of the devout, you can have your ashes placed into the foot of the wall surrounding the temple.  If you are one of the wealthy devout, you can hove your own mausoleum on the temple grounds.  I have wandered many of these strange little "graveyards" that are a familiar sight at most Wats.  It is the photographs that I find poignant.  

It was time for lunch and we were lucky travelers.  We chose an open-air pick-a-pot joint across the street from the Wat.  The cooks were all smiles and we proceeded to try to parse out what was on offer.  Out of nowhere appeared a young Thai man who asked if he could help us.  The owner's son, he had studied at Univeristy of Wisconsin, which explained his english language skills.  After a few minutes of discussing the various curries, we were treated like royalty, set up with food and drinks, and entertained by our host.  We asked various questions about Khorat, learning about the Japanese, the coffee scene, and about the young gent's studies abroad.

One of my best meals yet, and very much Isaan-based cuisine.  In the foreground of the bowl is a dry and meaty pork curry, more reminiscent of Lao than that of Thailand.  The combinations of spices in the curry base was wonderful.  It was so much fun to try and parse out the individual spices.  There are other flavours besides the standard chile and curry.  Allspice seems to be used here as well as a moe herb base.  Of course, there is the Isaan standard, "plah rah," a fermented fish paste or sauce.  The greens and leafy are a standard both here and in Lao.  

Our crew at the cafe'.  One of the best meals ever.  I have come to realize that this particular journey is not about sights, temples or shrines.  All of that stuff is cool, and we will still pay attention to those things.  This trip, however, seems to be about plugging in with people, which we are having a great time doing.

"Look at me, Ma!  I'm on top of the world!"

The clouds were breaking off, the heat was heating up, and the sun was beating down.  It looked like the evening was shaping up to be a lovely chance for another walk-about.  What could go wrong...?

We heading back to our digs for a siesta/shower/smoke break.  As evening came on we were back out on the streets, heading to the far side of the old city for walking dinner through the the Night Bazzar.  

But one the way, we met this fellow.  This one is actually the girl lizard.  A Water Monitor, about four feet long (easy), and right in town in the city moat.  But wait!!  There's more.

Here comes the male, popping out of his den in the bushes, and chasing after that fine lizard chick.

"Only you...   can make my life worthwhile..."  Lizards doing the mating dance.  Big lizards.

Here is a link to a YouTube video I managed to shoot.  Warning:  contains Lizard Porn.

http://youtu.be/IhnO826FJ5I

So we asked and we walked, we ate and we ate.  Mmmmmm, crickets and bamboo grubs!  Yes!

We noshed our way through the the smaller night market dodging a few rain drops.

Noodles under the cover of the 7-11 awning.  This is a special Phad Thai made in Korat.  More savory and with a little crunch, it kicks culinary butt.  

After a few twists and turns, we found the main night bazaar.  Grabbing some poor skewers in chili sauce, we decided to walk the full length and check it out before settling on some more substantial dishes.  This proved to be a bad plan.  Note the heavy clouds in the upper left of this photo.  Also, if you look carefully, you will see a lovely Farrang in the photo as well.

Thirty minutes later, the Bazzar had turned into a wading pool.

First there is pulse of cold breeze, then another.  Then the patter of a few rain drops.  The heavy patter is a sure sign that it's time to seek cover NOW.  Luckily we did.  For the next thirty minutes or more, we watched a full-blown monsoon rain wreak havoc on the night market.  Food was floating away, as were buckets, gas cylinders, and those little plastic stools.  The poor folks were chasing after floating belongings as the storm sewers were overwhelmed and the water rose higher.  It was truly a sight.  Here are two videos that I shot, images and sound that capture this event far more than I can with written word.  It is worth watching them both because the second one shows how much worse it actually got.

Khorat Monsoon #1

http://youtu.be/EqP0fwMHqag

Khorat Monsoon #2

http://youtu.be/_RJGR3CGdgQ

Trapped like rats, we finally had to make a break for it.  I stuffed all my gear into my shoulder bag and tucked that under my shirt.  My Heart pulled her umbrella down low and off we plunged, splashing along looking for a street with higher ground.  One minute into the deluge was like standing in a warm shower turned on full blast.  The danger was the precarious footing as the water hid all of the holes, curbs and deep spots.  We picked our way through the the flood, carefully avoiding the ankle and leg breakers.  Finally, as the rain eased to normal volume, we ducked into a cafe' for sit-down food.

Laarb stew inside a real restaurant.  Not bad, and the roof was a big plus.

We waited out the storm, which eventually faded to a mild dripping.  Squelching and splashing, we wandered back to our digs and hung up the wet stuff to dry.  Showering off the grit and grime of the street water was another essential step.  

And there you have it folks, just another day in the rainy season here in Khorat.   Tomorrow we journey on, but that is the stuff of another blog.  So, as always, Ciao for Now!