My Travel Adventures

This weekend, I visited my friend Yang in Singapore. My Friday night flight had a two-hour delay because of bad weather coupled with Lion Air’s inexplicable decision to begin refuelling only after everyone had boarded. These unfortunate circumstances have added to my ever-deepening dislike of Lion Air for imposing a ban on the use of all electronics during take-off and landings (regardless of whether they are in flight mode) and for its strict policy of “no outside food.” To this I add the fact that I was not able to check-in online for my flight from Bangkok to Singapore, but I was able to check-in for my flight back with a different airline. This may not have even been Lion Air’s fault but at this point I am not exactly primed to be understanding.  

This Monday was a holiday commemorating the death of Bhumibol Adulyadej, Thailand’s previous king. Although I was still a bit tired from my trip to Chiang Rai, the sky was so blue that I could not help feeling drawn outside. At eight o’clock, I called a Grab cab and rode it all the way to the nearby town of Nakhon Pathom; I should point out there are trains from Bangkok to Nakhon Pathom, but I could not for the life of me figure out the schedule, which seemed to indicate that only one single train would leave that entire morning.

For our second day in Chiang Rai, we booked a visit to an elephant sanctuary. I was very proud of myself for making the reservation, as I had gleaned from the sanctuary’s website that its owner was a Frenchwoman and managed to make the phone call entirely in French. We were picked up promptly at half past eight in the morning and began our forty-minute ride at the back of an open-air truck after picking up two other tourists and buying some insect repellent at 7-Eleven.

This weekend, Reese and I travelled to Chiang Rai, a city nestled in the northernmost corner of Thailand, and so far north that local agencies offer two-day boat rides to Luang Prabang in Laos. Chiang Rai was founded in 1262 by King Mangrai, who named it after himself: the word “chiang” means city, so a loose translation of “Chiang Rai” would be “the City of (Mang) Rai.” Heir to the kingdom of Ngoenyang, Mangrai unified the city states (or mueangs) of northern Lanna and present-day northern Laos, establishing the Kingdom of Lanna.

This weekend, I made a visit to Khlong Lat Mayom Floating Market with my friend Reese. We arrived a little after nine o’clock while the air was still fresh and before all the stalls had been set up. There were enough stalls, however, to guarantee a wealth of breakfast options, of which many were vegetarian due to some upcoming religious festival. The market was a bit more touristy than I had hoped. There were no fruit and vegetable stalls selling local produce, and instead most stalls offered various snacks and drinks, which visitors would carry to wooden tables overlooking the canal. Nevertheless, the place was not completely overrun by foreign tourists, appearing relatively popular with Thai people looking to get out of the bustle of central Bangkok.

Today I got to undertake the tour because of which I had planned this whole journey. Having arranged for a private guide with my hotel, I was pleased to find out that he spoke English very well and enjoyed talking; throughout the day, I learned a great deal from him about local history, customs, and prejudices. As it happened, my guide turned out to be Hmong, which provided a valuable insight into life in Laos, as the Hmong are the country’s second largest minority group after the Khmu. I was told that both ethnicities are well represented in Xieng Khouang province, but they do not have their own schools because the only official language of instruction in the country is Lao.

It seems that the whole world meets in the small city that is Vientiane. Leaving the airport, one passes by big advertisement boards by Western beer brands and Chinese investment companies, after which a derelict Renaissance-style dome welcomes visitors to the town proper. Without making much of an effort, one can find both an American Centre and a Russian “Science and Culture Centre” on streets that still bear their French names. Thai and Vietnamese banks have a strong presence along the roads, which are traversed by public mini busses gifted by “the people of Japan” and tour busses from China and South Korea.