That Phenom

Morning light plays across the entrance to our Wat.

There was a breeze off the Mekong, but it only slightly cooled the mounting morning heat.  Mukdahan was waking up and so were we.  Today was a travel day, but only a short one.  We were heading north up the Mekong, our destination the small but important shrine town of That Phenom.  A mere fifty-five kilometers up the river, this would be an easy day.

We wandered to our little open-air breakfast place and had a "same-same" repast, thick black coffee and hot noodle soup.  This is the Thai version of a "Standard American Breakfast."  There is such a thing.  The ubiquitous "Ameican" guesthouse brekkie is bad coffee, an egg fried to lifelessness, and some white "toast" bread.  It is a meal best avoided, even when included in the price of the room.  Much more toothsome is a bowl of either noodle soup or congee, the rice soup that will keep you on your feet for hours.  

Packed and sweating, we walked to the Main Street, Thai highway 212.  A Songtheuw appeared in an instant and we were on our way across town to the main bus terminal.  Our travel luck was strong and in minutes we were the last two folks to squeeze into a vomit-van for the journey north.

Traveling like the locals aboard an open-air Songtheuw.

Packed inside the vomit-van, which mercifully only had 13 people for the 13 seats.  In Lao, I have been squeezed into on of these coffins with 18 people.  I know the locals are a bit smaller than Farrang, but it can get very tight and very hot.  Today was not bad by comparison.

In just over an hour we arrived in the town of That Phenom, dropped off directly in front of the important pilgrimage site, the Wat Phra That Phenom.  There are lots of tourists in this town, but they are from Thailand, Lao and Vietnam, traveling here to pay their respects and make merit at one of the most important Chedi in the region.  

The heat was merciless as we trudged to our guesthouse.  Showered and refreshed, we were instantly wilted as we stepped back out into the midday inferno to find some lunch.  WIth little todo, we found the Sisters Cafe', a cool oasis with wonderful grub.  We enjoyed a long and leisurely second brekkie/lunch, complete with coffee and ice cream for My One.

Give me the Nam Soda and a mini-pitcher of ice and no one gets hurt.

Vietnamese Kai Kata, or eggs and sausage in a skillet.  Yummers!

Sometimes ya just gotta take a break from rice.  My One was grooving on the fries and chicken stir-fry.

We whiled away the heat of the afternoon down along the Mekong, letting the breeze do its best to offset the torpid heat.  Monsoon clouds roamed around on the Lao side of the river, looking for Farrang to rain on.  Other than a few ex-pats, we have not seen a single Farrang traveller in this town, or in Mukdahan for that matter.  

The sun set and the relative cool of the evening began.  Relative is the key word.  Walking is still a sweaty, sticky business, but it is not quite as hot as the surface of the sun.  We toured the local parks where the Thai folk were busy working out, running, and doing aerobics.  Bless their little acclimated hearts, strolling slowly (and not splitting infinitives) was the best I was able to do.

Beached swan boats await the cooler days of November and the arrival of the Farrang.

This is why this town exists, the famous Chedi.  We circled the Chedi in the gloaming of the day, making merit by walking around the sacred tower.

The nearby market sells all the things a pilgrim might need for offerings at the shrine.  Lotus flowers, marigold braids, candles and incense are all arranged in a wild profusion.  

Once again retreating to the cooling breeze off the Mekong, we dined riverside on fish stir fry and pork with vege.  It was another leisurely meal.  In this place, a slow pace is the right pace.

Che' is alive and well on the streets of Thailand.

As we returned from our evening stroll, we happened across two British ex-pats drinking in an open air bar.  The greeting of "Hey Farrang" meant we had to stop and chat.  It took only a few minutes of conversation before one of the men voiced his displeasure about That Phenom.  "Not enough Farrang, no one to talk to, no one to play golf with."  He was selling his house here and moving on.  This after selling his house in Pattaya and moving on.  The other fella was just happy to be here and drinking beer.  I know that this will sound judgemental, and it probably is, but of the ex-pats I have met around the world, the most miserable have been those scattered around northeast Thailand.  Their days seem to start in this or that pub owned by one of their ex-pat buddies.  It goes downhill from there, as they sit, drink, drink, sit, complaining about the locals and the heat.  First of all, this is the Mekong Valley.  Of course it's bloody hot.  Hello, Tiger?  Stripes?  Secondly, the locals are perfectly fine, thank-you-very-much.  If your an ex-pat, you are a guest.  Try to act like one.  Okay, rant off.  Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

By the way, when I want to rate the happiest group of ex-pats I have ever met, it is a toss up between Panama and Ecuador.  Just sayin'

We made it back to the guesthouse, blessing the invention of aircon and cranking it up.  We tried for another night in the same place, but they were booked solid with pilgrims.  Tomorrow we will have to search for alternate digs, but for now we slipped into the cool of the humming aircon breeze and drifted off into slumber.

A great town, That Phenom.  There is nothing much to do here, nothing much to see.  The Chedi is in the center of town and does not require transport other than a pair of weary feet.  Once you have seen that (That, get it?) the rest of the "sights" here consist of watching the river, interacting with the very friendly locals, and finding tasty food and drink.  My kind of town.

We will stay here another day before wandering off of the grid to the tiny village of Bann Kham Pia, where we will hole up for about four days.  But I am getting ahead of myself, which never pays off here.  From That Pheonom on the Mighty Mekong River, I bid you Ciao for Now!  Be happy, be well, and travel much.

Phu Phathoep

It was a hiking day, a day to get out of town and in touch with Thai natural beauty, a day to get very very sweaty.  Any day that involves hiking in the jungle is a day that must start with a good breakfast.  Noodle soup is the cornerstone of any nutritous brekkie.  Mixing in sufficient amount of fish sauce, hot vinegar and chilies will give one a head start on the sweating that will be part of the day.

We walked to the Main Street that leads south out of town.  The National Park was about fifteen kilometers south and the plan was to try to hail a Songtheuw to get us there.  A few false starts and we found the proper pickup point, but no Songtheuw.  Eventually a Tuk-tuk driver began negotiating with us.  400 Baht to take us one way to the park or 500 baht to take us round trip and wait on us while we hiked.  We were reluctant to give up on our plan of cheap transport.  While the negotiations were moving along in fits and starts, a Songtheuw approached.  The Tuk-tuk driver actually hailed the Songtheuw for us an then told the driver where we wanted to go.  It is almost impossible to convey what an extraordinary thing this was.  Tuk-tusk drivers are a fairly mercenary bunch, taken as a whole.  For example, most tuk-tuk guys will not give you directions.  They will take you where you want to go and charge you for it, but there is no pay-off for them in helping.  This is not true for all drivers, of course, and the further one gets out of Bangkok or Vientienne the easier it gets.  But for a tuk-tuk guy to willingly give up a big fare just to help out a couple of Farrang, that is unheard of in my experience in Southeast Asia.  I guess it is a fine illustration of just how friendly the Isaan folks are.  A big tip o' the lid to this extraordinary gent.  

The view from the open road, heading south.

We rolled along Thai highway 212, amusing the local market women who were onboard with their load of shopping.  Our best info was that the ride would end at a market on 212 and we would have to hike the road a bit more than a mile to the entrance of the national park.  Again, we were undone by the kindness of the Isaan folks.  The driver strayed off his usual route and drove us directly to the gate of the park, charging us a measly 30 baht each, or less than a buck for a 15 kilometer ride.  Try that with Uber.  We paid our 200 Baht foreigner entrance fee (Thai folks pay a lot less) and began our hiking day.  

The trail climbed over an open rock field punctuated with weirdly eroded formations.  It was sultry and hot as we crossed the hard open ground without a hint of shade.  The sweating had begun.

There was no promise of a cooling monsoon shower today, only a vibrant tropical sun and the heated rock we were walking across.

Some of the treasures to be discovered we almost trod upon.  This praying mantis was enjoying its lunch without regard for us.

We continued climbing the rock slab until we were, mercifully, at the first summit.  From here the trail disappeared into dense jungle under looming cliff faces.  At least we were now shaded from the blaze of the sun, but we were also cut off from the breeze.

WIld orchids along the way.

We ascended through the jungle until we were under the waterfalls.  Ah, the glory of a cool waterfall on a sweltering jungle hike.  Here is a link to a video of a little waterfall worship:

http://youtu.be/0UIc1I7G9uQ

And more waterfalls.

The trail became a series of steep and questionably sound ladders climbing up the cliff face.  We emerged at the top onto yet another solid rock plateau.  In a shaded niche above the falls was a shrine set on glistening tiles over which the stream was flowing before tumbling over the cliff.

The upper section of the plateau was open rock overlaid with many rivulets of water.  While the stone offered solid footing, each wet section had a slippery layer of algae going across it, making the surface as slick as ice.  We picked our way across the open sections, carefully avoided a fall over the cliff edge.  A kilometer across the open rock and mixed scrub brought us to the view point and the way down.

High above the Isaan rice paddies.  

The way down.  Way down.

And how we got there.  The ladders did not exactly inspire confidence.  

And this was the last we saw of the trail.

Coming out below the cliff face, we ran into a large windfall of bamboo which had obliterated the trail.  We found a trail, but as it turned out it was not THE trail.  Thankful to be on any trail, we continued down into the farming country below the cliffs.  Emerging onto a dirt scooter and tractor path, it was obvious that we had left the park.  With the help of a few amused farmers, we stayed on the main path back towards the road.  The walking was hot and beautiful through the the unbelievably green rice fields and copses of trees.  During the rainy season, Isaan becomes a vibrant emerald green, so green it almost hurts the eyes.

Path to dirt road, dirt road to paved road, and paved road to... Ta Da!  The Park Gate.  We survived to tell the tale, trodding a good path, if not exactly the correct path.  We had enjoyed four hours of solitude in a jungle paradise.  The sweat and grime of the day was a small price to pay.

A long hot mile needed to be walked down to the highway, where a Songtheuw magically materialized just as we arrived.  30 Baht later we were walking through the alley to our riverfront guesthouse, bathed in sweat and ready for showers and some time on the balcony.

Celebrating a safe return while watching the Mekong River flow by.

A fiery plate of Isaan noodles with pork finished off the day.  On our way home we were blessed with an extra shower as the monsoon rains surprised us on the street, drenching us like rats before we could make it home.  Yes, it is still the rainy season and one must take it as it comes.

A hard day, a wonderful day, a day of sweat and heat and waterfalls and sights.  Tomorrow we will move farther north in Isaan, yet further up the Mekong and to an even smaller town.  But that is the stuff of tomorrow.  Until then, it is, of course, Ciao for Now!

 

The Mighty Mekong

Morning came to Ubon Ratchanthani with the promise of heat and no monsoon clouds to chase it away.  My One was still sleeping as I slipped out of the guesthouse and walked the short distance to the Moon River.  The morning light was just bringing a glow to the Wat next door.  The market across the street was already bustling but I needed to stretch my legs before breakfast.  There were a few monks sweeping up the Wat grounds and I could hear the pots banging in the monk's kitchen.

The Naga guarding the entrance to the Wat from the river walk.

I strolled slowly through the quiet of the Wat until the call of the market became too strong.  Busy shoppers were already hard at work buying up the goods for a Sunday dinner at home.  Huge Mekong catfish and carp were being cleaved into steaks, brightly coloured fruits and vegetables were piled high, and the food vendors were seeing to the needs of the hungry merchants and buyers.

A reprise of yesterday, egg Bahn Mi and thick coffee taken al fresco on the questhouse terrace.

Packed and ready to venture north, My Heart and I shouldered our packs and slogged out into the torrid heat.  The bus station in Ubon is six kilometers from the center, much to far to walk and far enough to deter any foolish thoughts of doing so.  Finding a shady spot to stand, we waited for a Songtheuw along the Main Street.  After a short time, we climbed aboard the back of one of the ramshackle pickup truck "buses" and were grinding along the sultry city streets.  Ten Baht will get one anywhere in the city.  That's about thirty cents.  Pretty cool!

The Number 3 Songtheuw and a samlor, the bicycle rickshaws that are still very much in use in this slow-paced part of Thailand.  The samlor "drivers" are the poorest of the transport workers, often sleeping on the street with their rickety contraptions.

A typical Thai open-air bus station.

We arrived at the bus station, found the correct stall, and bought our tickets on the "big" bus.  The "small buses" look like a better way to go, but there are usually 13 seats and 15 people with luggage.  Luggage here is often defined as a 20 kilo rice sack filled with who-knows-what.  It makes for a tight ride.  The mini-vans are affectionately know as Vomit-Vans.  We opted for the big bus.

The sun was beating down on our metal steed as we rolled north towards Mukdahan.  Everyone drew the curtains against the blaze, so there was little to see.  The bus was packed and the aircon barely working.  Between the rocking of the bus and the press and heat of the interior, it was almost impossible to remain conscious.  Mercifully, the ride took a half-hour less than we were told.  Less than three hours of sweaty bus time and we were in Mukdahan.  

It was far too hot and far too long of a walk to consider anything but a tuk-tuk.  This was our first Tuk-tuk of the trip, and it was just as silly a means of transport as it always it.  Still, the drivers here are much less aggressive that those of Bangkok or, much worse, Vientienne in Lao.  After a brief and unsuccessful bargaining session, we agreed on a pretty fair price and were soon heading for the riverfront.  Arriving at our first pick for a hotel, we were greeted by the Thai-speaking staff.  The room price seemed steep at 750 Baht per night, but when we saw the room, we understood why and quickly agreed to stay.  It was a huge corner room with a covered wrap around balcony and an amazing view of the Mekong River with the shores of Lao on the far side.    By the way, 750 baht is about $23.  Since our last place was $11 per night, we decided we could afford this splurge.  It is so easy to fall into the habit of cheap travel and then balk at a price that we would laugh at in Europe of the USA.  Cheap Farrangs!  

Back on the Mekong, which always feels like home.

Ah, the Mighty Mekong.  Mukdahan, Thailand sits on the banks of this wonderful River, one of my favorite in the entire world.  I have been privileged enough to spend time on the Mekong in four of the six countries it flows through.  Some years ago I spent two days traveling down the Mekong by longboat.  I never get tired of seeing the changes that the seasons bring to the river.  Swollen now in the rainy seaon, it is mighty indeed.  The twelfth longest river in the world and the seventh longest in Asia (depending on who is doing the measuring), the Mekong always calls to me, and I heed the call whenever I can.  Strolling along the Mukdahan promenade on the way to find some street food felt fantastic.

Tonight, the BBQ'd duck called to us, served from a busy stand in the Night Market.  We sat at a little metal table, sharing it with a local man.  The duck was tender and savory, the stewed eggs sweet and spicy, and there were just enough greens to make the plate seem healthy.  

The Dude Abides, and yours truly eats.  We all have our lots in life.

The back view of a street food stall, complete with roaming shoppers.

Second course, grilled squid.  Here's a tip, the stuffed squid are really good, but one is enough for two people.  Really.

Pick your squid skewers and onto the hot grill it goes.  The charcoal brazier is about the same temperature as the surface of the sun.  I have no idea how these folks work a grill all evening when it is already steaming hot just standing still.

There is no point in having a spectacular balcony on the river if one isn't going to enjoy the pleasures in life.  My choice is a fine cigar while watching the geckos hunt bugs.  By the way, those lights in the photo are the far shore of the Mekong, The People's Republic of Laos.

Another fine day of travel even deeper into the laid-back region of Isaan.  Wherever you are in this fine world, Friends and Neighbors, I bid you Ciao for Now!  

Ubon-a-Bon

The market was up before I was and I was up before My One began to stir.  The very early morning calm is picked apart by the putt-putt-tuk-tuk of the two-stroke delivery carts and the clatter of fish, meat and produce being unloaded at the market across the lane from our digs.  I rolled out of bed and into a pair of shorts for the brekkie run.  If you can't beat 'em, eat with 'em.

Sweet thick Lao-style coffee and egg baguettes, which I schlepped back to the terrace.

We whiled away the morning watching the Moon River carrying rafts of vegetation from the interior jungles towards the mighty Mekong, which will then ferry the leafy islands to the sea.  Cleverly waiting until the heat of the day started to build, we headed out to further explore Ubon Ratchanthani.  But first, real coffee.

In the coffee shop we were entertained by a family photo shoot of some proud young man who had apparently accomplished proud young man things.

Hot and sultry, hot and sultry, it was that sort of morning.  We wandered about for a bit until we found ourselves near the big park.  Sitting in the shade of the huge trees were two pink mini-bus things, sort of like giant golf carts with bench seats.  I remembered reading about the "Tourist Car" for Ubon, so we walked over to investigate.  Some smiles, some confusion, and then we were sitting in the second bus.  Some more pantomime led us to be seated in the first bus.  This was, indeed, the Tourist Car, but the tourists were Thai.  There was not another Farrang in sight.  

We had gotten on the Wat Bus.  Here a Wat, there a Wat, everywhere a What-Wat.  After a few years of traveling in Thailand, a Wat is just a Wat.  Yes, they are beautiful, yes, they are important cultural centers, and yes, we have seen a great many of them.  It is exactly the same with the mighty cathedrals in Yurp.  Really, after awhile, seeing the next great pile of cut stone is not the highest item on my travel agenda.  But I digress...

Off we putt-putted in the little pink Tourist Car.  Not only did we saved ourselves a lot of sweat and walking, the little car was cute and the pink uniformed volunteers were even cuter.

The little Pink Car wandered from Wat to Wat, with the volunteers nervously commenting on the passing sights.  We covered a lot of ground and saw a lot of Ubon that we would not have seen.  And then there were the Wats.  I won't bore you with too many.  The big deal festival here is a parade of giant floats with wax carvings molded over the into exotic shapes.  They are, essentially, giant candles, which are then lighted and paraded through the town.  It seems that each Wat (temple) produces theirs own candle float for the competition.  Then the city goes nuts with huge markets and festivities.

A detail from one of last years candle floats, which we found in a shed behind one of the Wats.

Rama riding the Hawk-billed Garuda.  At least I think it's Rama.  

And giant Chedi in the sun.  The hot sun.  Very hot.  No sign of Monsoon today.  Hot.  

Inside the Chedi looking up.

Eventually we jumped ship (bus?) at a nearby Wat and walked back to our digs.  Letting the heat of the day slip away after our legitimate sight-seeing, we detoured through the Wat next door on our way to get some grub at the market.

Naga guarding the river entrance to the temple at the gloaming of the day.

A wizened and kindly caretaker saw us meandering through the temple grounds and took us in tow, whether desired or not.  He demonstrated his love of the place through a detailed tour of the oldest teak building in the temple complex.  It was the original temple building, although rebuilt several times.  Teak Wats are rare and, after a day-long baking in the sun, very, very warm inside.  Sweat was running down my back in rivulets as we listened and nodded to our diminutive guide.  Eventually he freed us into the cool night air.  (He was a very, very nice man and he was very kind.  I wanted to add that so I didn't sound snarky.)

Market food followed, including a reprise of last night's crepes.  This was the newest dish, a mixed salad sort of thing over rice, including BBQ's meat slices and tiny salty shrimp eaten whole, legs and all.  

Yes, the chilies are hot.  Real damn hot.  And real damn good.

The Night Market II, the rummage sale side of the thing.  I was doing the market shuffle with My one, making sure she had a chance to see every booth and stall.  

Which way do we go, George, which way do we go?

After all of that shopping, there was too much street food to remember.  Mackerel and rice with some sort of slaw, skewers of grilled chicken, some fish dumpling thing wrapped in banana leaf, a sweet burned toast concoction and, finally, yet another brownie.  

The spicy fish dumpling things.

More calories per bite than pure butter.  The cashew brownie.

We staggered back to the digs.  The river ran by, I smoked a good cigar, and I watched the geckos hunting bugs.  

Mr. Stumpy, my favorite bug hunter.  Not long after I took this photo, he shit on me from the ceiling.  Over the years, I have experienced many new things in Thailand, but I have never been pooped on by a gecko.  I guess there is always room for new experiences.  

A great day in Ubon Ratchanthani.  We did some legitimate sight-seeing, lots of eating, and a good bit of relaxing.  Balance is important.  Tomorrow is a travel day, heading and east to end up on the Mighty Mekong.  For the moment, it is time to say Ciao for Now!