Bali boasts a myriad of landscape packed into a tourist-friendly island. From the sandy white surfhavens in the South to the misty mountains of the Central regions. From the laid back coastal resort in the North to the tourist-infested town of Ubud. There is a place for everybody. How better to appreciate and explore this magical island then? The answer is here.
From Denpesar International Airport, it is a mere 4km away from the fabled Kuta beaches. There, laze back upon the white sands and watch the surf crash onto the shore. The sea stretches away into the distance. If your idea of a holiday is simply to kick back, get wild or get tanned, Kuta is your go-to place. Have a swim or learn to surf. Be assured, you will be well cocooned in this tourist city. There are your popular international brands around the corner and you will still be able to get a Big Mac.
The fabled Kuta Beach
If you crave for a little more ‘culture’, you can travel north to Ubud. Ubud is where the legendary Julia Roberts descended to in Eat, Pray, Love. However, I doubt you will find your inner peace or the power of spiritual healing. You will probably find a class of services sprung up specifically to provide the authentic Eat, Pray, Love experience. However, one aspect of Ubud still remain true. It is a town where there is a temple in every corner. Everywhere is the familiar black thatching roofing that adorns every temple. There was a temple in my guesthouse. And I admit I was pretty spooked by the uneven lighting that cast unearthly shadows into my room.
Here is where most tourists stopped. The time-tested Kuta-Ubud axis stop here. Most thought they have their fill of fun and adventure, of culture and reflection. I strongly advise continuing further north, into the heart of Bali.
As you head into the interior, the elevation starts to rise. The heavy traffic of the South slows to a trickle. There seems to be much more greenery around. Picture paddy fields surrounded by rolling hills. Picture a idyllic rural life where time slows down. Picture the tallest summits shrouded in an light mist. This is central Bali. Slow down and take some time to capture the moment. The weather also got cooler; from the tropical heat to chilling winds. Do wear a jacket. It is hard to resist stopping to take photos, from temples perched on lakesides to fields of greens.
Lake BuyanLakeside temple along Lake Buyan
Central Bali is also a place where nature come alive. There are so many waterfalls and rivers in this region. There are actually tour packages offering canyoning or white water rafting. Then there are the waterfalls that never fail to mesmerise. I decided to go to a lesser known one, away from the tourist hordes and persistent touts. I decided to go to the Blahmantung Waterfall. Near the village of Pupuan, the waterfall is only signposted by a signboard. I followed the signboard and found myself navigating a steep and narrow path. If you are not confident on a motorcycle, I suggest you walk the 1km path in. Nearing the end, I had to follow a footpath through coffee plantations into the jungle. Another 15min later, voila! Here is the waterfall.
The 100m plunge of Blahmantung
There is no Niagara Falls here. However, the uniqueness of the experience made it a worthwhile trek. This waterfall has a vertical plunge of over 100m. The water is crystal clear. Near to the pool is a shrine which only add to the mystical feel. All these set in the jungle and it can only seems surreal. Now here is where you can find your inner peace if you wish. (Not Ubud)
Blahmantung waterfall – jewel in the jungle
Take some time to visit any of the local markets here. The fruit stalls set a kaleidoscope of harvests. I got myself some strawberries and passion fruits and they were heavenly. There were other fruits but I could not identify them. Or take time to visit the warungs and enjoy the local fare, sometimes along with the local scenery too. The locals are much friendlier too. Gone are the touts and pushy locals of the South. The climate is also a refreshing start. The temperature is a cooling 20C, or even cooler, which makes it a perfect contrast to the South.
Cheap food with a view
Once you cross the highlands of the Central Region, you will move to the Northern Coast. You will miss the cool temperatures as it get increasingly stifling. I spent much time exploring the roadside warungs. They sell everything from suckling pigs to iced fruits. The price is noticeably cheaper. If you are looking for a road off the beaten track. Here is it. Tuck into the local fare and experience the authentic Bali cuisine. End off your road trip with the seaside resorts of Lovina.
Roadside suckling pig!
If you are looking for a road less travelled, this is it. Get out of the Kuta-Ubud axis, which has evolved to be tourist-centric cities. If you are willing to brave the road, get on the wild site, this would not disappoint. If you want beautiful temples, scenery to yourself without jostling with selfie stick-wielding hordes, this is the place to go. Travel without a map, without boundaries and you shall see more. Get lost in the people, the culture, the history and the way of lives. You can find something that will amaze you and enthral you.
Back when I was in my planning stage, I searched for a tough yet easily accessible (no special preparation) peak. I was left with Mt Kinabalu and Mt Agung, for which, the former’s harsh price tag immediately put me off. I decided to go for the ‘mother’ volcano in Bali, Gunung Agung. I made another decision, which seems rather stupid and naive in hindsight, to climb this monster alone. And the word alone means literally alone, no guide, just me and my backpack.
After close to 24 hours, I stand here to tell you: I made it, I did it. However, I would strongly advise anyone who wishes to have a safe and enjoyable experience not to embark on this ridiculously foolish endeavour. I am a trained soldier, with a decent level of fitness and navigational skills and I faced difficulties at points. Oh, did I mentioned? Alone means no map, no GPS too. I navigated solely with a compass and instinct. So here goes my crazy adventure.
Firstly, a good preparation is necessary. To that, I was well equipped. So here goes my list.
Waterproof groundsheet and cords for me to assemble into a shelter if necessary.
Torchlight and spare batteries. I brought along 3. Just in case
A small pot with solid fuel, so I can cook.
A windbreaker, cap, and sunglasses to protect against the strong wind and glare
A good pair of shoes and another one just in case.
Enough water and food for 24 hours
Camera and tripod to take that picture perfect shot at the summit
The downside to this? My pack weigh close to 20kg. While others could ascend with only a litre of water, my added weight made it one hell of a crazy climb. At points, my legs burned with the effort and expenditure.
I started my journey to Bersakih Temple. Located at around 1000m, the temple is an impressive complex of Balinese architecture. Resembling a small village, this temple complex has numerous shrines interconnected. However, I do not experience any semblance of tranquillity or spirituality. The temple is run by a cabal of tour guides, operators hungry for foreign cash.
Upon nearing the temple, I was forced to park my motorcycle at a designated lot for a certain fee. I immediately reversed and park my bike further away at a local shopkeeper. I was required to pay for a sarong but similarly, I bought mine further down the temple for a lower price. Next, I had to pay the inevitable entrance fee. The goons at the gates demanded that I hire a tour guide for which I paid a small customary fee. The tour guide promptly directed me to pay for more nonsense, like temple offerings. There was no escape, and I reluctantly bought one of those. Eventually, I had enough of those idiots and dismissed my tour guide.
The next hour was then spent dodging other shady operators who target tourist specifically. My huge backpack is also a dead give away with men claiming that I need to pay for permit to climb Agung. (absolute horseshit) These robbers will station themselves at key intersections in the temple, so if you want to avoid them, just go by the paths beside the shrines.
Somehow, I made my way to the central prayer courtyard unaccosted. I laid out the offering which I was coerced into purchasing. I find mountain climbing a risky business, especially with my crazy plan. Balinese also believe that Mt Agung is a sacred place, and that she is alive. The mountain has a spirit and she is to be respected; she chooses who scales her peak. I spent a few quiet moment there in the courtyard. I prayed to whichever mountain guardian present there, for blessing and permission. My experience with peaks taught me to be humble when facing such wonders of nature. Lives have been lost. Never ever announce a mountain is easy, she will make it difficult for you.
The ‘mother’ temple of Bali. Where within the temple walls holds the island’s history.
Then, I proceeded to find that path that leads to the trail up the mountain. I got progressively deeper and higher towards the back of the temple. There, I spied a farm trail leading up the mountain. I followed this trail. After several fields and cowsheds, you will pass a small stall selling drinks at exorbitant prices where thirsty trekkers are more than willing to pay (me included). You know you are on the right track when you see another temple loom into view. This is the start point where tour groups push off for Mt Agung. Altogether, from the point I parked my bike to this start point, I took 45min.
The time then was around 5pm. My plan was to pushed as hard as I could before stopping for a brief nap. I hoped to clear the treeline. I hurried into the forest. There is only one path from the temple leading into the mountain. This is the path you will follow for the remainder of the journey. This path takes you through tropical rainforest. Expect your shirt to cling to your because of the sheer humidity. Take the time to appreciate the diversity of trees around you. Afterall, you are located in this spot of the world where nature goes into overdrive.
By 7pm, I could no longer see where I am going without a torch. Even with a torch, my beam of light can only pierce through the thickening mist for a couple of metres. The mist shrouds the forest with a surreal glow and you can understand why they say the jungle is alive. I don’t know whether it is drizzling or it is just the mist, but I ended up wet. And in the jungle so high, it was actually cold. Lethargy sets in and I decided to make camp. The route became increasingly hard to follow and I could not gauge the mountain weather. (If it rains, I would abandon my climb because it would be too dangerous) I figured that safety is my priority. With my back propped against a tree, I wrapped myself in the waterproof groundsheet and snuggled for a nap.
At around 12am, I was rudely awakened with a torchlight shining on my face. It was a guide bringing his bunch of tourists. I guessed we both scared the shit of out each other. After an initial daze, I decided to continue on the trek. I felt safer for I had just have to follow the lights ahead of me. However, my hopes of hitching on was quickly dashed. They were moving too fast for me to catch up. It was a dent to my ego when I see tourists clearly not in prime physical shape race past me. I ended up being the slowest man on the trail. It took a while for me to register that I am carrying 20kg of load and working on little sleep which resulted in my slow speed.
I trudged uphill. After a while, the incline got steeper and steeper with no signs of levelling off. The terrain was also changing. The misty forests gave way to open scrublands with a few misshapen trees. The soil under my feet turned to ash where I slide back 1 step for every 2 step I take. This torturous stretch seemed no end in sight. I spent much time resting on the trail. the lack of sleep and the load is taking its toll.
Then a large monolith will loom into view. in order to get pass it, you need to follow a path around it, near to the cliff edge. With the slippery slope and the poor visibility, it turned out to be a challenge. Once you clear it, you will be challenged with Agung’s famous scree slope. A 60 degree incline of a tumble of rocks awaits you. The next hour will be spent on fours scaling the near vertical slope. the perfect “ankle busting” terrain. It was undoubtedly the toughest stretch so far. However, it also means that the end is near for the summit is in sight.
Surprise! once I reached the top, I realised that it is a false summit. Actually I kind of expected it, knowing how mountains are. They usually have a ridgeline at the top. It was still a major disappointment nonetheless. By then, the sun was already up and visibility was a huge boost in the glow of dawn. Then there is the wind. Chilling and relentless, he threatens to blow me off the face of the world. I actually put on my sunglasses because sand is constantly blown into my eyes. I saw the real summit in the distance.
A knife edge path is the only way up to the summit
The path was a knife edge ridgeline, flanked by steep drops on either side. I hesitated for a good 10 minutes, wondering whether it is worth the extra risk. In the end I chose the walk. The good news is that there is no scrambling on fours. the bad news is, once you start to walk the path, there is no stopping. The wind, the swirling sand, the slope (yes there is still an upward slope) makes it a one shot effort. There is no place to stop and rest. you can only keep moving. This stretch took me another hour.
At 7am in the morning, I made the summit. I heaved a sigh of relief. Here was the fabled top, the magnificent views. The Chinese like to speak of “sea of clouds” where the clouds appear like the surface of the sea. With the sun hanging near the horizon, the colours were a sight to behold. Mt Rinjani stood in the distance and I can imagine climbers on the other side looking over. The moment felt surreal. As I stood there on the roof of the world alone (other climbers have gone down). I felt humble and thankful. Gunung Agung has allowed me to scale her and partake in taking in the magnificent scenery. You can feel so alone and yet free. Troubles are gone with the wind. The world is so magical and you are nothing more than a speck on the surface of the world. If you think you are so great, what speaks of this wonder of nature?
A small shrine honours the mountain. In the distance, Mt Rinjani stands tall above the clouds. The roof of Bali.
After the period of self reflection and euphoria, reality sets in. I must quickly make my way down before my water runs out. I knew that the going down would be hard because there is more than one way down. The wrong path will send me to the valley floor where I could never find my way out from. There the dense tropical rainforest will make it a challenging environment to navigate. I will quickly be exhausted and get disoriented. I do not wish to make this a Bear Grylls scenario. I settled on a quick pace down. within an hour, my worst fears came true. the path I was following grew increasingly dense. I was on the wrong path. I was lost.
Immediately, I took charge of the situation. I examined my water and food supplies. I had not activated my phone so I could not call for help or use my GPS. My compass was useless because this path also head towards the same direction. There was only one way. I had to make my way back up to the summit and revise my route again.
There begins another hour of four-legged climbing to the false summit. There I used all my navigational skills to work my way out. Through inference and memory work, I deduced a route down. Thank my lucky stars that it was the correct route. I was so fortunate. I could only imagine people without training like me could have easily gotten lost in the vast forests. Best thing is, there would be no rescue effort and you would just quietly vanish from the face of the Earth.
The path down was an adventure itself. The ash slopes became a long slide. At many times, I just got onto my butt and slid downslope. Around half the time, I ended up slipping and tumbling in a mess. Along the way, my knees were shredded. caked in blood and grime. My boots gave way too. The constant sliding on rocks destroyed the sole. (luckily I had my spare trainers) It was another 7 hours of exertion.
Finally at 3pm on the 2nd day, I reached my start point at Bersakih Temple. A total of 22 hours spent on Gunung Agung.
Strangely, the high level of fatigue overwhelmed any emotion of euphoria or sense of accomplishment. I was more concerned about getting a bed for a good night of rest. Now when I look back, Gunung Agung is a place that challenged me mentally and physically. I shudder at the thought of scaling it once more. The danger, the risks, the perils made this all the more memorable. I was incredibly naive and stupid to bravely attempt such an endeavour. If I made a mistake anywhere then, I might not have made it back. Such is the bravado of youth.
Afterall life is an empty book, and you choose your stories to write. And Gunung Agung shall have a special place in my book.
Why Lucknow? Why not Delhi, Agra or Jaipur? Well, i will not bullshit and tell you the truth. I got a free ticket from Tigerair to this city and so why not? Hence, i set off on my first solo journey to the Indian subcontinent.
After meeting my host, Mohd, at the airport, i got my true taste of India. Riding pillion on his motorbike, we zipped across the city, skirting around cars, taxis, cows, other pedestrians at a ridiculous speed. While I have tackled the infamous traffic of Hanoi or Bangkok, nothing prepares me for this as i found myself closing my eyes with fear at some point.
View from inside
Mohd deftly maneuvered his bike off the roads into the winding alleys that leads to his house. I have no idea how he manages to remember the route when all alleys look the same and have no street names. I was to spend the next five days at a local home. A hole in the wall leads into a beautifully decorated house with gold wallpaper and ceiling motifs. The contrast between the outside and inside was simply too great. I was quickly introduced to Mohd’s friends and over the next few days these friends would introduce me to more of their friends. I bet almost everyone in the neighbourhood would have shook hands with me by the end of my trip. Before i left for India, I learnt some basic hindi greetings such as Namaste. However i soon realised that Namaste only applies to Hindus which are a minority in Lucknow. There, the mostly Muslim populace uses salaam alaikum. This also means that Lucknow is one of the few places in India where beef is sold freely.
“Do you fly kites?” Shah (one of the friends i made) asked.
“Yup!”
“Great! You will fly with us later! We are the best in Lucknow!”
“Erm where?”
“On the rooftops!”
What? Rooftop kite flying? I thought kites are flown on fields! So i headed up to the rooftop and i stared in amazement. Here was not your typical kite flying with kids. Here, kite flying is a sport, closer to contest than recreation. I watched as Shah tied metal wires to his kite, a simple no-frills diamond design with minimal decoration. He explained to me that they would make the kite stronger. I can only think of the movie The kite runner where people flew fighting kites and here i am, seeing a real life account of it. Nearer to sunset, the skies began to grow with kites as almost every rooftop has someone flying a kite. Shah and his friends made it so easy, a simple tug, a twist of the hand and in the distance, you will see some guy’s kite fluttering away, having its string cut by Shah’s. But moments later, Shah would be tugging furiously, cursing under his breath; it was Shah’s turn to be the loser. He would simply attach another kite to his string and continue in his aerial battles.
Afis prepares to launch his kiteWar above Lucknow
It was a strange feeling to be watching the spectacle. Watching this centuries-old sport unfolds before my eyes is simply amazing. Contrast with the sight of men cheering, you understand that here is more that a hobby. It is a metaphor of life in India, where traditions still maintain a firm hold in the culture. As much as India is developing, it has retained his history and has avoided being the faceless city most of us are familiar with.
On one of the days, i was feeling adventurous and decided to venture to the city centre of Lucknow alone, without any maps or guide. It was easy finding the central area; just follow the flow of traffic to where it seems the most crowded. I took the time to visit Bara Imanbara, Rumi gates and Chota Imanbara. They were 18th century monuments built nearing the end of the Nawabs’ reign.The monuments are all architectural wonders, just falling short of the world famous ones in neighbouring Agra. However, it does not bring with it the hordes of tourists associated with such attractions. In fact, I hardly see any international tourists besides myself. If any of these buildings were in Europe or more popular areas, they would probably be heavily marketed and appeared on postcards. However, they managed to remain off the tourists’ radar, hence preserving their unmolested beauty, for now.
Bara Imanbara, Lucknow, IndiaHusainabad Clock Tower- tallest clock tower in India, modeled after Big BenRumi Darwaza, the gateway of LucknowChota Imanbara, Lucknow, India
Any blogpost on Lucknow would not be complete without a mention to its food. Forget your spicy curries here in the land of the Nawabs. Similar to other Northern Indian cuisine, there is a strong emphasis on the flavour with bread more common than rice. A must-try dish would be kebab paratha (pan-fried bread with minced meat). Here, screw off with you cutleries and eat with your hands. Feel the bread between your fingers. Somehow it feels more delicious this way. Maybe it is because the aroma wont be lost on the cold metal spoon or some other sorcery. But if you wanna get a true taste of Indian cuisine, use your hands and dig in. That said, it can be pretty challenging too, especially when the food in front of you is a piping hot meat dish (Pasande) fresh off the barbecue.
Barbecued meat, Indian style
Ask me to describe Indian food to you and I will give you a list of adjectives. To save time, I will give you this reply: whatever flavour you can think of, it is there, all in one dish. Of particular mention is paan masala, a mixture of spices rolled up in a leaf. I do not know what is inside but imagine a burst of sweet, salty, spicy, sour with a tinge of milk in it. There is only one way to describe it: Wow. If you have a strong stomach, i would recommend trying out the street food because it would be one of the most awesome things you ever tried. Furthermore, there is no better Indian experience than squatting along the roadside eating some delicacy with your fingers. However, i shall emphasize the phrase ‘strong stomach’ here haha.
My five days came quickly and in the meanwhile, I made a lot of friends. The Indians struck me as extremely friendly. Despite differences in culture, outlooks, I was refered to as a ‘brother’ to many of my Indian friends. I was invited into so many homes and with it the customary food for guests. Travellers would know that it is the highest honour to be invited into someone’s home and i was accorded this honour so many times. Before i leave, I was presented with a huge pile of gifts from my host family. I am deeply grateful by the hospitality shown which left me deeply humbled. In this city, I see the meaning of the term “global village”. I was surprised they allowed someone from another part of their world into their lives without any inhibitions despite knowing me for only a couple of moments. If you ask me, what did i remember most from Lucknow, I would reply “the people”. Because they have touched me with their generosity and sincerity.
I concluded my trip to India with a greater understanding of this magical land. Lucknow, I believe, is a microcosm of the country as a whole, where a land of great food, great people and crazy atmosphere makes it so unique and exciting. After all, there is a reason why it is called !ncredible !ndia !
On a hill in Northern Thailand, near the border to Burma lies a little village. The moment you stepped in, you know that this is not your typical Thai village. In fact, it does not even feel like in Thailand. That is because the place is littered with Chinese signs. Once a military outpost by the defeated Kuomintang Army, Mae Salong is now a thriving tea cultivation centre.
I took a ride up to Mae Salong from Thaton on one of the trusty songthaews. Please do not sleep through the ride as the songthaew winds its way up the mountains. Try to resist the urge to get off and take photos of the picturesque valleys lined with rows of tea with the occasional morning mist lingering there. Photographers out there: if you are looking for a ‘postcard’ shot of asian landscape, here would be a good place.
I arrived just in time for lunch. Forget pad thai or tomyum. The most famous stalls here dish out bowls of piping hot noodles and dumplings. And they were really good. Another thing that set it apart from Thailand is the sight of women from the neighbouring tribes in their native costumes, bringing a kaleidoscope of red, black, blue to an otherwise empty street.
A village perched on a ridge means great views all around. I strolled along the village, taking in the unique atmosphere as well as the tranquil scenery.
No trip to Mae Salong would be complete with tasting the local tea. After all, in these mountainous regions, a cup of tea is both refreshing and soothing. There is a posh cafe located there, evidently for the backpackers who want a quick sip and there are countless traditional teahouses where old men would sit and share stories. I went for both experiences and would rather have my oolong in a little teapot than a cup of matcha latte. It seems more fitting to be enjoying tea the Asian way where you can see and more importantly smell every step from tea leaves to the cup of flavoured water in your hand. As the aroma slowly excites your oflactory senses, take a look around you, take in the seas of tea plantations rolling across the valley and you realise the cup you hold in your hand is more than just tea.
I was tempted to head down the ridge towards the tea plantations. I followed a small path from the back of a temple towards the sea of green. I couldnt help but think of Hobbiton as i gazed upon the grassy knolls. It is hard to imagine that just decades ago, the hill i am standing on was a military camp, where guerrillas battle the central army.
Rolling hills of Mae Salong, Northern Thailand
Soon, my lovely weather gave way to dark clouds casting a shadow upon the green hills. Impending storm always make lovely landscape subjects and i snapped away.
Dark clouds over the tea plantations, Mae Salong, Northern Thailand
The next morning, I climbed a flight of stairs to a highpoint overlooking Mae Salong to catch the sunrise. After an hour trying to get spider webs and dogs off me, I got my view of the sun peeking its rays over the hills. The rising sun illuminates the mountain range of Northern Thailand. In the distance, you can even see the plains of Burma stretching away.
Sunrise and dramatic clouds, Northern Thailand
Sunrise always seem like a good time to reflect and think; it represents the start of a new day and is associated with a new beginning. Up here in the mountains, away from the cities we are all so familiar with, a natural act of day-night cycle seems so magical. The reason why so many are obsessed with sunrises on mountains is that it bring a great sense of accomplishment. After a strenuous journey in the dark, the birth of light heralds a new beginning, where the future seems so promising, so exciting.
I descended the highpoint to the main village where the morning market has already started. There a cacophony of voices in various language as the villagers hawk their ware. You see Thai, Chinese, the local tribes haggling and chatting happily. This is what kept Mae Salong alive and unique. The multiculturalism in a rural setting on a hill overlooking hills of tea plantation is not a common sight on our planet.
A 4hr bus ride from Chiang Mai lands me in Thaton, a village located at the crossroads of Kok River and an highway. The bus ride will bring you through scenic areas especially around Chiang Dao before terminating at this little village. Many who arrived here would take a boat ride down the Kok River to Chiang Rai and Thaton would be little more than a lunch stop.
Sunrise in Thaton over the Kok River, Northern Thailand
Being restricted in locomotion to my feet, I could not venture far. I would love to follow the river downstream on its banks to the paddy fields beyond or head upstream to the hills in search of hill tribes communities but they are well beyond my reach. I decided to visit this temple, unambiguously named Wat Thaton.
In Thailand, temples are usually located on hilltops, away from the hustle and bustle of the markets and surrounded by jungles; islands of peace in a settlement. Wat Thaton is a series of temples build on a hill overlooking the town, with its largest and grandest building located right on the summit.
I started my climb up Wat Thaton, hoping to arrive at its topmost temple. I laboured up the slopes, with the tropical humidity and my sandals not helping at all. I could have taken a motorcycle or taxi on the way up but i felt that would defeat the purpose. There is a reason why the monks would construct a temple on a hill with steep slopes instead of the flat ground near the river.
Relief was the first thing when i finally reached the top. I took a breather and gazed at the structure before my eyes. wow.
Temple on the summit of Wat Thaton
I entered the building which was quiet and tranquil. I joined other pilgrims and sat down in the prayer hall. Despite not being a particularly religious person, I felt an sense of peace and zen. Perhaps it was the soothing colours or maybe it was just because the arduous climb made it sweeter in the end, but i sort of understood what Buddhism is about. There is no godly intervention to grant you wishes, there is only you and being at peace with the world.
Many lament that modern life has taken away our ability to live and enjoy life. Faced with incessant cacophony of traffic, endless stacks of assignments and staring at pixels day and night have dulled our ability to appreciate what is around us. We are over-stimulated that we have no time to care what our soul, our heart needs: a time to think. And this is why i believe Thais build temples on hilltops; they provide a sanctuary for the soul and a fortress against modern stimulants.
On this hill, there is not a single thing in the world to disturb me. The first few minutes was filled with distracting mental chatter but in that silence, they gradually died down. I forgot how long i sat there, a spa for the soul. I have never meditated or underwent those mind-activities but that is probably the closest i went.
After some time, i exited the temple and for the first time noticed the marvelous view i have up here. After spending time relaxing the mind and soul, any image conjured by the eyes seems to be nothing but beauty. Then, the world seems to come straight out of a artist’s canvans, with strokes that highlight the allure and dynamism of it. The world is there for you to admire and enjoy. There is the village of Thaton melting into paddy fields which come to a rest beneath foothills. It was a classic rural Southeast-Asian view that have captivated countless travellers before me (probably not from the same mountain), adding to the mystic and beauty of Thaton.
Scenery of Thaton
I lingered for a few more moments, snapping up as many shots as i could, trying to turn this piece of ‘heaven-on-earth’ into timeless memories. I hoped I have done justice to it through my photos.
As i started my walk downhill, it felt much easier, not just physically (duh) but mentally. I did not just took away photos from Thaton but I left a huge chunk of my mental crap back there. I know that decades later, when minds start to fail, the most poignant memory of Thaton i have would not be the arduous trek or even the hilltop temple but the sight of paddies stretching into the horizon.
Ob Luang means ‘grand canyon’ literally. While it definitely pales in scale to its more well known counterpart in America, it makes up with its exotic setting.
Nestled within the hills near Hot, it is one of the lesser known national parks. Many travellers instead head for the more popular Doi Suthep or Doi Inthanon. Determined to get off the beaten path, I chose to visit Ob Luang. And seriously, how can any backpacker resist the allure of a ‘grand’ canyon?
I took a 4hour bus ride from Chang Puak Bus Station in Chiang Mai to Hot. From there it was a songthaew ride to the park. Another hour plus spent in a cramped space. After the long travel time, I had high expectations for this mini natural wonder. I went to the park headquarters to obtain a map. But the friendly ranger told me there wasn’t a need.
“Just follow the trail! It’s only 1.5km! You will get out of the park in 45min!”
“Erm.. what about the longer trail that goes up the mountain?”
“There is only one trail, just follow it!”
Ok.. So I was a tad disappointed to travel 100+km from Chiang Mai to complete a 1.5km route that I can easily cover in less than 10min if i go on a jog. The ranger offered to safekeep my backpack at the headquarters but I declined. (which I later regretted) It was close to 10kg with 4l of water, food, portable shelter and a DSLR camera. So I went off into the park.
The trail went alongside the river and the increasing volume of sound of water gushing implies rapids/ waterfalls ahead. The gorge presented itself soon enough, appearing from a bend and I was delighted to see it. There was no ‘OMGWTF’ moments (it came later) but just a quiet joy at seeing this monument of nature. I can understand why the Thais, accustomed to living in floodplains, would label it as the ‘grand canyon’.
To appreciate it more, let me put this into context. The gorge is composed of granite which only form deep underground, which implies that millions of years ago, where I was standing was actually the heart of a mountain chain that would rival the Himalayas. I gazed upwards at the cliffs, took some photos(the cover photo) and started my steady climb to the top.
After a long flight of stairs, i arrived at the bridge spanning the gorge. From here it seems much less impressive, with vegetation shielding most of the viewpoints. I put the gorge behind me and moved along the trail into the national park proper.
It was less that a few hundred metres into the walk that I got into trouble. I had followed what seemed like a trail into a clump of bushes and I could not see the original trail. I blundered for a couple of minutes, bashing through undergrowth and spiderwebs to find the original path. (This would happen a few more times in the trek) The ranger was wrong, there were more than one trail in the park. At this point I realised that I am the only person in the jungle; most other visitors turned back when they realised that it would be a navigational nightmare in the jungle.
It was a queer feeling, knowing that I have the whole park, the whole wilderness, nature to myself. At the same time, it brings about a level of fear in you. Nevertheless, I trusted my jungle navigation from my army days and i proceed on.
After a few more bashings, detours, clambering of boulders, I reached a point labelled as ‘viewpoint’. It was a granite outcrop (with no trees) jutting over the river. From there, i see hills and hills rolling into the distance and could feel the roar of the river below me. Now, this is a OMGWTF moment.
Rolling hills of Ob Luang national park
There was a strong sense of satisfaction, of ‘shiokness’. Here i am, overlooking hills after hills with nothing above me but the heavens. I understand why mountaineers would return to scale peaks after peaks. I have climbed much more challenging mountains but never alone. And the solitude of being at what seems to be the highest point brings about a silent but powerful emotion.
No, it is not the feeling of conquering nature and being king of the universe. The sight of the roaring river over the edge would send any such thoughts to the back of the mind. Instead, you feel small and powerless compared to the might of nature. And when you realise you are that tiny, insignificant prick in the universe, you begin to wonder: What the fuck are you doing on this world?
There is no sunset/sunrise to admire, only the harsh afternoon sun beating upon me. But I sat there and tried to reconcile with the emotions coursing through me. Solitude on a mountain top is prime material for reflections, metacognitions and meditations.
I moved off from this yoga spot when i realise the sun beginning to set. I descended back into the darkening jungle and got back to the headquaters as fast as i could. (not very, considering the poor trail condition and my 10kg backpack) In total, the ‘short 1.5km’ trek took me 2.5hours and is definitely not for beginners. On my way out, i saw the friendly ranger again.
“You took quite long, where did you go?”
“That viewpoint, the cliff there…”
“Oh, you must have took the long route then, how was the view?”
Tell anyone you are visiting Thailand and they will try to guess which city you are going to which is most popularly (in this order): Bangkok, Phuket, Pattaya, Chiang Mai. The popularity of Chiang Mai stems from it being a convenient launchpad to Northern Thailand where the hills are. But to me Chiang Mai preserve a unique feel that makes it a city worth visiting on its own.
Firstly, it achieves the balance between being tourist-friendly without being too comercialised. There are streets with upmarket cafes/ tour companies/ backpackers lodge patrolled by policemen beside streets where schoolchildren, push carts, monks get on with their daily lives.
Right outside my accommodation at Chiangmai gate capsule hotel (cheap, comfortable, clean with ultra friendly staff) is a market that sells groceries by the day and delicious Thai food at night. Surprisingly, i see only the occasional tourist there to gawk. I spent mornings strolling through the market, chewing sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves (extremely good), the traditional Thai breakfast, and absorbing in the atmosphere.
I chose to have my meals at where the locals eat. It is pretty easy to spot one of those establishments; a lack of Caucasians and english menus. (i could easily blend in as a Thai with my tanned complexion hehe) I noticed that Northern Thai cuisine is different from its spicy Southern neighbours. There is a greater focus on spices and meat. There are these bbq giant sausages with meat and herbs infused or chicken kebabs with a healthy dose of some savoury Thai sauce. Forget your tom yum or pad thai here.
I took a stroll to Wat Chedi Luang because who goes to Chiang Mai without going there? I arrived there in the morning and found myself alone with some monks. Located in the historical city centre, it was built in the 14th century to house the legendary Emerald Buddha. Earthquakes and wars have left the temples in ruins which is still impressive to behold. At each staircase, pairs of nagas (mythical serpents) guard its entrance. So while you are there, just remember you are seeing a 700 year old piece of history.
Wat Chedi LuangElephants on the South face of Wat Chedi Luang
I regretted not exploring the city more because like many travellers, it is a launchpad for my trip into the countryside. Yet it retains a unique charm. It is not your bustling Bangkok or your party Phuket. It is a laidback city with a historic centre where its residents mill about their daily lives. You wont see large tourist buses or trucks thundering through its historic core (they keep to the suburbs and outer ring road). You can still have your sticky rice by the roadside pushcart and watch the world stroll pass.
My Global Places 