Even though the road map to get there from Chiang Mai looked like the easiest reconnoitre ever, I got lost, taking a wrong turn to the left at the wonderful named town of Hot. When the road petered out to a track, I stopped for directions. They often require in Thailand a 30-minute wait while the gracious people of that country try and do their best for you. Someone sprinted up a lane to get someone who had learnt a little English at school. There are smiles and broken English, and then you are on your way again. The road was heading to the lakes and areas of Doe Tao, and I stopped at a road side vegetable and fruit market and ate packets of rice cooked in anchovies and garlic that cost the equivalent of 9 pence or 15 cents, ate sweet bananas that they refused to take money for and was also offered cups of water that I did not risk drinking.
One the way back from Mae Sariang, first heading north to Khun Yuam and then east, I got lost again and had to head over the highest mountain in Thailand, Doi Inthanon, during dusk, but all went well.
Mae Sariang itself is an interesting place. It looks to be one of those South-east Asian places that will be the Next Place to Go. There are tourists there, including a Pole or Czech (?) I saw on the overnight train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, who nodded to me “hello” in the restaurant car (one of the joys of Thailand, not for its culinary offerings but for its sense of movement, colour and scenery) and then who I saw in Mae Sariang walking off into the distance without seeing me. That was one of those travelling moments I have had over the years of seeing mysterious travellers with unknown pasts and agendas, all quite happy so it seemed.
The Riverside Hotel (choose that, not the sibling Riverside Lodge) overlooks the Yuam River, and from my room a tree that contained two Stripe-throated bulbuls (Pycnonotus finlaysoni). To get to the other side of the river requires a walk along the town’s one major street, which contains an inordinate number of hairdressers, all of which were doing good business and could not get around to cutting my hair. A bridge at the end and to the right of this street leads across the river, and it is necessary to drop down on a dusty track, where a young boy was losing control of his goats and then an older man corralled his while on a small-engine motor bike. To the back of these two, through a wood, lay a series of fields (see photo above), some very poor housing stand apart from one another and chants and music emanating from a Buddhist temple behind the next set of farms.
Dinner on the wooden deck at the back of the hotel was pleasant. There is not so much to do here, which is delightful, but hiking excursions to hot springs and untrammelled national parks such as Salawin (where teak has been illegally logged for many years, the authorities claiming that the designation of it being a national park has halted that) are popping up, as are visits to the villages of local Karen and Lawa peoples. We stopped by a Karen village near to Ban Mai Phatthana, which appeared inhabited only by old women, one who smiled at us, one who hit in dirty clothes while sucking on a piece of cooked sweetcorn.
The next town up from Mae Sariang, Mae La Noi has a small market in the middle of the road, too. Not much else, but it is pleasant. The Riverside Hotel had a bored night watchman, who, when I asked for a beer, pointed at a locked fridge. I went to a bar three doors down, bought one and brought it back. A beer, that is, not a fridge.
Mae Sariang itself is an interesting place. It looks to be one of those South-east Asian places that will be the Next Place to Go. There are tourists there, including a Pole or Czech (?) I saw on the overnight train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, who nodded to me “hello” in the restaurant car (one of the joys of Thailand, not for its culinary offerings but for its sense of movement, colour and scenery) and then who I saw in Mae Sariang walking off into the distance without seeing me. That was one of those travelling moments I have had over the years of seeing mysterious travellers with unknown pasts and agendas, all quite happy so it seemed.
The Riverside Hotel (choose that, not the sibling Riverside Lodge) overlooks the Yuam River, and from my room a tree that contained two Stripe-throated bulbuls (Pycnonotus finlaysoni). To get to the other side of the river requires a walk along the town’s one major street, which contains an inordinate number of hairdressers, all of which were doing good business and could not get around to cutting my hair. A bridge at the end and to the right of this street leads across the river, and it is necessary to drop down on a dusty track, where a young boy was losing control of his goats and then an older man corralled his while on a small-engine motor bike. To the back of these two, through a wood, lay a series of fields (see photo above), some very poor housing stand apart from one another and chants and music emanating from a Buddhist temple behind the next set of farms.
Dinner on the wooden deck at the back of the hotel was pleasant. There is not so much to do here, which is delightful, but hiking excursions to hot springs and untrammelled national parks such as Salawin (where teak has been illegally logged for many years, the authorities claiming that the designation of it being a national park has halted that) are popping up, as are visits to the villages of local Karen and Lawa peoples. We stopped by a Karen village near to Ban Mai Phatthana, which appeared inhabited only by old women, one who smiled at us, one who hit in dirty clothes while sucking on a piece of cooked sweetcorn.
The next town up from Mae Sariang, Mae La Noi has a small market in the middle of the road, too. Not much else, but it is pleasant. The Riverside Hotel had a bored night watchman, who, when I asked for a beer, pointed at a locked fridge. I went to a bar three doors down, bought one and brought it back. A beer, that is, not a fridge.
