Our train journey of exploration recently pulled into its 25th Asian station: a wee apartment near a moat in Chiang Mai's Old Town.
Following three months of relentless travel (and a little work), it's time for a breather in Northern Thailand's eclectically layered city. Concern that the holiday of epic proportions would forever ruin our future vacations was starting to creep into my consciousness. Or, at least those which include idyllic beaches, pools of the ages and room service. With questionable reluctance, I am compelled to accept that even life's pleasures require a little moderation.
Our new pad--for the next five to six months--is both unassuming and charming. Located down a quiet soi (or alley) off Mani Noppharat Road, it hugs a moat and the magnificent city wall. Stoic and exquisitely old, Chiang Mai's wall and moat date back to the thirteenth century, a time when the city "belonged" to the Lanna kingdom. Interestingly, Chiang Mai didn't become part of Siam until 1775. The following year--also the year of the Declaration of Independence--the city was abandoned due to troubles with the Burmese. This Northern jewel remained without residents through 1791. Today, there are about one million people dwelling across the Metropolitan area.
The city's worn delights are ambiguously reassuring. They provide the lucky audience a rich visual experience and sense of adventure that only a textured and storied history can render.
The new gaff can be best described as a studio plus. Tipping the rental scales at no more than 700 sq. ft., the elegantly appointed flat separates a living, kitchen (Thai-style in its austerity) and dining area from a spacious bedroom via an almost Moorish archway. Middle Eastern design cues are thoughtfully integrated throughout the nine-unit building.
With the peak tourist season approaching, we are grateful to have found somewhere unique, particularly at a price point that is free of financial anxiety. For the record, Thailand is no longer "cheap", whatever that means. Nevertheless, bargains remain for the true hunters.
Back to rental ramblings: The slender balcony provides more space and a little air. Amusingly, the views remind me of that delightfully dodgy neighborhood in Kung Fu Hustle--Stephen Chow's Looney Tunes-inspired genius, manifested in the form of a kung-fu film. However, comparisons with the aforementioned (fictitious) 'hood, Pig Sty Alley, perform a disservice to our Soi. Soi 14 Mani Noppharat is certainly more quirk than sty, and more doggy than piggy.
Alas, the choice of decor in this under-furnished home leaves much to be desired; decorative missteps that have led to the shameless abandonment of the optimistic, yet well-intentioned "no shopping pact". We will spruce the place up a bit. Over the horizon a shipping container beckons, just roomy enough to fit a sofa, emerging local art and a zippy tuk-tuk (Thailand's legendary taxi) for those spontaneous trips to the local grocery shop.
Out and about, there is plenty to keep us out of mischief. We are taking a course in Reiki--a pursuit that has interested us for quite some time. Educations in Qigong and/or Tai Chi are a distinct possibility. A private cooking course with one of the better local chefs has been lined up; and not wanting to completely abandon the holiday vibe, we just joined the club at the local Shangri-La. I apologize profusely in advance to those currently in chillier climbs. There will likely be at least one more obnoxious pool piccy. Please don't shoot the shooter.
As for learning the lingo, with five tones and more consonants and vowels than my middle-aged brain can accommodate (there are 44 and 15 symbols respectively), I will rely on technology (through language apps) and day-to-day conversation to begin with.
Shopping bags, open eyes, ears and minds are at the ready.
-Alain
The city's worn delights are ambiguously reassuring. They provide the lucky audience a rich visual experience and sense of adventure that only a textured and storied history can render.
The new gaff can be best described as a studio plus. Tipping the rental scales at no more than 700 sq. ft., the elegantly appointed flat separates a living, kitchen (Thai-style in its austerity) and dining area from a spacious bedroom via an almost Moorish archway. Middle Eastern design cues are thoughtfully integrated throughout the nine-unit building.
With the peak tourist season approaching, we are grateful to have found somewhere unique, particularly at a price point that is free of financial anxiety. For the record, Thailand is no longer "cheap", whatever that means. Nevertheless, bargains remain for the true hunters.
Back to rental ramblings: The slender balcony provides more space and a little air. Amusingly, the views remind me of that delightfully dodgy neighborhood in Kung Fu Hustle--Stephen Chow's Looney Tunes-inspired genius, manifested in the form of a kung-fu film. However, comparisons with the aforementioned (fictitious) 'hood, Pig Sty Alley, perform a disservice to our Soi. Soi 14 Mani Noppharat is certainly more quirk than sty, and more doggy than piggy.
Alas, the choice of decor in this under-furnished home leaves much to be desired; decorative missteps that have led to the shameless abandonment of the optimistic, yet well-intentioned "no shopping pact". We will spruce the place up a bit. Over the horizon a shipping container beckons, just roomy enough to fit a sofa, emerging local art and a zippy tuk-tuk (Thailand's legendary taxi) for those spontaneous trips to the local grocery shop.
Out and about, there is plenty to keep us out of mischief. We are taking a course in Reiki--a pursuit that has interested us for quite some time. Educations in Qigong and/or Tai Chi are a distinct possibility. A private cooking course with one of the better local chefs has been lined up; and not wanting to completely abandon the holiday vibe, we just joined the club at the local Shangri-La. I apologize profusely in advance to those currently in chillier climbs. There will likely be at least one more obnoxious pool piccy. Please don't shoot the shooter.
As for learning the lingo, with five tones and more consonants and vowels than my middle-aged brain can accommodate (there are 44 and 15 symbols respectively), I will rely on technology (through language apps) and day-to-day conversation to begin with.
Shopping bags, open eyes, ears and minds are at the ready.
