With the Angkor temples firmly in our rear view mirror, we caught a flight back to Bangkok. Once there, we killed a few hours by leaving Kaberi’s recalcitrant Nikon camera in the capable hands of the Sukhothai’s concierge staff, dropping by unannounced at our not-entirely trustworthy tailor and stopping for a forgettable lunch at the campy Cabbages and Condoms restaurant (run by an organization whose ostensible mission is to make condoms as accessible to Thailand’s high-risk communities as cabbages).
As evening approached, we made our way to the newly-reopened Don Muang Airport, now the home of domestic flights on a select number of Thai carriers, including ours. Upon arriving at Don Muang (this time, leaving ourselves more than enough time before departure), we discovered to our chagrin that the flight had been delayed indefinitely. As a result, we were left with at least four hours to take in our immediate surroundings. Compared to Bangkok’s shiny and modern Suvarnabhumi International Airport, Don Muang is meager and uninspiring. With old, musty carpets, dim lighting and cramped seating areas, it appears better suited to the role of bus station than major metropolitan airport. Vik thinks it should be renamed Don Johnson Airport. Don King, Don Knotts and Don Ho were some of his other unsolicited contributions. Time ground slowly to a halt, leaving us to stare at our watches fitfully. When the bright afternoon turned to dusk and then pitch-black nightfall, the airline finally boarded the plane. We touched down in Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second largest city with a population roughly one fortieth that of Bangkok’s, at 10:00 pm, about three and a half hours later than originally scheduled.
Nearly five years had elapsed since our last trip to Chiang Mai, and we were quite struck by the changes to the city during that time. The Chiang Mai of 2002 appealed to us as a sleepy northern hamlet best known for peaceful trekking excursions and unintrusive handicrafts. The Chiang Mai of 2007 was almost a mini-Bangkok, with omnipresent noise and neon, myriad hotels and commercial developments, and formidable motorized and foot traffic. On our last visit, we had the made the unfortunate decision to stay at the local Westin. The inadequacy of our choice had been punctuated immediately upon arriving to a Thai lounge singer’s live rendition of Abba’s Dancing Queen in the hotel lobby. This time, with the benefit of advice from TripAdvisor and Kaberi’s handy LUXE guide, we settled on the sleek, mod D2 (think of a W with orange tones and more attentive service) located next door to Chiang Mai’s Night Market.
Given our late arrival at the D2 (thankfully devoid of any late 1970’s covers), we made a quick dash to a food cart stationed across the street for a generous helping of hot, freshly-cooked-on-the-spot pad thai. For 25 baht, or approximately 75 cents, we feasted on the best pad thai we had ever tasted. In contrast to our earlier visit, the theme of this Chiang Mai trip centered around indulging our inner foodie. This was largely driven by circumstances – northern Thailand’s slash and burn agricultural practices had wrought havoc on the air as a thick haze of particulate matter lingered on Chiang Mai’s outskirts. Furthermore, the associated visibility constraints rendered treks and other outdoor excursions untenable. With that in mind, we slept in the next morning (Kaberi awoke at a gallingly-late 8:00 am) and got a late start to our day.
Turning the corner from our hotel, we arrived at the Siam Celadon Tea House. Although Vik grumbled about the damage inflicted on his rapidly-fading Y chromosome, he quickly changed his tune once he tasted the lapis tea cakes, made with a divine combination of Indian spices, and crisp tea sandwiches. With his stubborn masculinity waning with every additional bite, Vik took an oath never to question his wife’s culinary judgment again. He then shamelessly lobbied for a return visit on the very next day.
Given Chiang Mai’s well-deserved reputation as Thailand’s arts and crafts hub, we spent our time accordingly. We explored the artisan shops on Thapae Road one day and on Nimanhean Road the next. On both occasions, Kaberi browsed to her heart’s content while Vik occupied himself in efforts to find an open wifi connection nearby. Our culinary forays in town were varied and exhaustive. On our second evening, we returned to a traditional Thai restaurant on Charoenrajd Road that sadly failed to live up to our fond memories from a 2002 visit. The following day, we snacked through the day before partaking in refreshing lemongrass and ginger-infused drinks and a special Japanese tasting menu dinner at our hotel. On our last night, we splurged on a superb dim sum lunch at the over-the-top Mandarin Oriental hotel before concluding with an amazing northern Thai meal of khao soi at the swanky Chedi hotel’s restaurant.
Our down time in Chiang Mai was used not only to eat, but also to plan the next legs of our journey in southeast Asia. Despite countless hours on the Internet, our efforts to secure an expedited Vietnam tourist visa on arrival were stymied by insufficient advance planning, intermittently-responsive Vietnamese online travel agencies and prohibitive itinerary costs. With a Vietnam visit proving not to be in the cards on this trip, we shifted our attention to revising our itinerary and locating reasonably-priced flights and accommodation. The net result of these machinations was to make Laos our next destination, followed by a week split between two of Thailand’s renowned beach destinations: Krabi and Ko Samui. Faced with this seemingly-surreal itinerary, we had to pause to take inventory of our strange, charmed position.
