January 13, 2016

Thailand: Bangkok & Chiang Mai

Thailand is for the hungry.

Baby goats suck at their mother’s teats. Chicks search the ground for left over seeds. Puppies hungrily struggle for a place next to their brothers and sisters. And then there’s me, greedily slurping up all the pad thai and mango sticky rice I can find.

The country’s brightly colored foliage and bustling city streets are a far cry from Skagway’s quiet winter wonderland, but the hot sun is a welcome visitor to my very pale complexion. I am soaking it all in, with heavy doses of SPF 30.

Many who travel to this tropical oasis come solely for the beaches and the clear blue water. But for future travelers, I urge you to visit the north. Filled with lavish temples, delicious night markets and cool summer nights, its culture and people are a country all their own.

Our journey began in Bangkok, a place I’m not likely to revisit. Like most big cities, it’s busy, smelly and not very friendly. Salesmen are constantly trying to sell you a ride in a “tuk tuk” or questionable fried fish from their carts. Cats run rampant, many with broken tails hanging limply behind them. Its river flows with trash and debris galore.

But just 430 miles to the north lies the charming and historic city of Chiang Mai. Boasting a plethora of restaurants, shops, and activities alike, the city was everything we were looking for and soon became a very welcome stomping ground.

Haylie and I both enjoy walking, making Chiang Mai a perfect destination. We found ourselves in every corner of that city, getting lost a time or two, but always finding our way back to At Baan Kuhn, the friendliest hostel you’ll ever find.

Our journeys led us from forgotten temples, hidden in run down neighborhoods, to local fishermen proudly displaying their robust catfish. We handled slithering, slimy eels in a dark but welcoming market, and clumsily dropped them to the amusement of the Thai people. We ate delicious khao soi in a rundown restaurant, covered with pictures of Buddha and wrestlers. And we slurped up delicious watermelon smoothies in the hot, humid air.

Like almost every city in Thailand, Chiang Mai is filled with night markets. Once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. Each is home to strange and delicious foods, elephant paraphernalia, fried bugs and meat on a stick. And though all are very similar, they are each charming and fun to explore.

But just around the corner you’re likely to find solace in a beautiful temple. Void of tourists, illuminated by candle light and covered in rich, golden foil, visiting the temples at night presents a magic, mystical quality. Crickets and frogs sing into the night, while flames flicker through the darkness. All is calm and quiet near the heart of Buddha.

It was in Chiang Mai that we found ourselves on New Year’s Eve. The city was bursting with travelers. Crowds grew to excess, barely moving through the night market and the square. But as night fell and the hours drew closer to midnight, the sky became illuminated with hundreds of glowing lanterns, floating high above the city.

In November, Chiang Mai is home to the Loy Krathong festival, when thousands of lanterns are released into the night. And while this was on a much smaller scale, it was still magical and dear to my heart.

We chose to release our lanterns at the Wat Buppharam temple. We wrote our goals for 2016 on the lantern’s thin paper, and with the help of two young monks, released them into the sky, along with our future hopes and dreams and past lessons and memories.

I can’t say that I was sorry to say goodbye to 2015. I endured a painful breakup and said goodbye to a beautiful love and friendship that I was blessed to have had. But life changes and so too do we. I am stronger for the loss and am proud of the woman I am growing into. But standing there in the warm Thai night, I was overcome with emotion from the realization of how far I have come in just a year. Through the tears, pain, heartache and sorrow I have endured. And somehow I found myself in Thailand, embracing the future.

I let my lantern go with love and hope for what will be and a fond remembrance for what once was.