Another side of my trip to Thailand: Villages, nature, countryside, mountains...

You’ll let me know when I can keep going...😉

It seemed obvious to me that I was talking about Western tourists. And that I’ve only been talking about them and their behavior since I arrived in Chiang Mai... In that case, what’s the point of your reply? Just to show off that you know Thais better than all of us here? 🤕😵

You’re getting on my nerves with your mood swings that change every two hours. From now on, we’re done communicating. Thanks. Songsam.

From now on, we stop communicating, thank you. Songsam.

That works for me, it was my intention too... I mainly think—I’d already noticed this last year—that you don’t like it when I don’t follow your advice and tips to the letter, and especially that I preferred to follow Jojoone1’s advice over yours last year. That attitude is stupid and unproductive. All opinions are worth considering, but we’re not obligated to follow them. Too bad if I made the wrong choice by not listening to you! Your advice is certainly excellent, but some of it just doesn’t suit me...

After yesterday’s adventure, I’m feeling the need for some rest. So, I’m easing back into some low-key, classic sightseeing. Today’s itinerary includes Wat Phra That Doi Saket in the morning, the San Kamphaeng hot springs, Muang On Cave, and the craft villages of Bo Sang and San Kamphaeng—all in the same area and not far from Chiang Mai.

I’m surprised when the driver shows up with his wife. - She’d really like to visit the temple… he tells me. I’m not about to deny her that pleasure, but it’s a bit annoying having to entertain his wife when he didn’t even bother to lower his “quote” a little. In a way, he’s treating her to a nice outing at the client’s expense... At first, she’s very shy, discreet, and reserved, but as the day goes on, they start acting like a honeymooning couple, and I feel like the third wheel intruding on their intimacy. Still, it’s touching to see this couple, both in their mid-40s—he might be a little younger than her—acting like newlyweds. They hold hands, cuddle, and show affection... Looking closer, he barely looks 45, but she seems to be around 55, with a face that shows her age despite her careful grooming and makeup.

When we arrive at the temple, they don’t seem interested at all in the architecture or the glittering gold—again! After making their devotions and circling the chedi the required number of times, they head straight back to the car as if we were leaving.



I pretend not to understand and wander off through the alleys. That’s when I spot a hill with another huge golden Buddha at the top, accessible via a daunting monumental staircase. But I notice a ramp on the side that allows car access. No problem—I’ll walk up instead of taking the stairs.



At the top, I step onto a vast esplanade with this gigantic Buddha statue, which, for once, I find quite beautiful. In front, the terrace offers a breathtaking view—not just of the impressive staircase and sanctuaries below, but also of the surrounding countryside.



Behind the statue, another esplanade leads to a dome-shaped temple, which I skip because I’ve already spent a lot of time taking photos and feel constrained by the driver and his wife waiting for me. They must be wondering what I’m doing and where I’ve been for the past hour and a half. I take my time descending the 230 steps—I count each one—before rejoining them.



Sure enough, when I find them, they’re eating, and he lets me know that *She*—who’s clearly sulking—is hungry. I tell them about my discoveries, which surprise them. They had no idea the place existed or that you could drive up via the ramp. He seems very interested—maybe to bring tourists here another time—and decides to head up the hill. They’re amazed by the discovery, and we end up visiting the inside of the dome as well.

The walls and dome are decorated with stunning paintings that aren’t quite finished yet, as two or three scaffolds allow a few talented artists to continue their work.



Suddenly, the driver is in no hurry to leave and strikes up a long conversation with one of the painters. This gives me time to photograph and film both the artwork and the artists at work.



A quick look around tells me Madame has disappeared...

She’s stewing outside.

An employee recommends we check out the “skywalk” behind the dome. The attraction is paid, but the price isn’t excessive—I think it was 50 baht... For someone like me who’s afraid of heights, walking over the void on glass panels is pretty intense. Later in my trip, I’ll discover that skywalks are scattered all over Thailand and Asia wherever there are ravines or stunning viewpoints. It’s the *it* attraction right now. https://www.tourismethai.fr/actualites/des-passerelles-vertigineuses

I pay for their skywalk entry, but she doesn’t want to try it. Her husband thanks me warmly several times for showing them this temple they didn’t know at all. At least, they’d never been here before and thought it was just the main sanctuary we’d visited upon arrival.

Next, they take me to eat in a sort of artisan village in San Klang (San Kamphaeng), which is apparently a weekend hotspot for Chiang Mai locals. I love this place—it has a big fairground vibe with lots of stalls and attractions, very local and seemingly unknown to Western tourists. It’s the kind of spot where I’d love to wander for two or three hours, stopping at every stall like at a trade show and soaking up the festive atmosphere. Clearly, it’s a relaxed place for... well-off families, given the quality—and price—of what’s sold. But it’s also a cultural and artistic hub that attracts a more “intellectual” crowd. Many creator kiosks offer beautiful, original clothes... mostly for women. Oddly, for men, I only see a few pants that don’t interest me and not a single shirt! We eat at a very original restaurant—an old bus converted into a dining space... They’ve never been here either...

As I mentioned at the start, I’d planned to visit Muang On Cave, still in the same area. But when we arrive, we see that it requires climbing an astronomical number of stairs—even more than at the temple this morning. Neither they nor I have the energy for it, especially since it’s getting hot. So, we leave without even getting out of the car.

Next, we head to the geysers and hot springs of Sankampaeng, where, encouraged by my “guides,” I partake in the local ritual of boiling eggs in a small wicker basket—though I later realize it’s plastic, much to my disappointment since I’d kept it as a souvenir. Several signs around the large site indicate how many minutes to leave the basket in the hot spring pool, depending on how you like your eggs. I go for soft-boiled.



Here too, I’d happily stay longer to enjoy the local, more working-class (crowded?) atmosphere—with all those legs lined up, feet dipped in a small hot water channel—very different from the upscale, “bourgeois” vibe we just left. My paper guides warned against coming on weekends, especially Sundays, because it gets packed with Thais. Sure, there are a lot of people, but it’s not total chaos. I find them much more bearable than Indians, especially since they’re not shouting. It’s very working-class, but in a laid-back, unpretentious way. No jostling or discomfort. I’d love to try a private pool bath, like I did a year ago in Bali.

But the driver seems to have swallowed a watch, and knowing my love for wandering and taking photos, he’s worried when I lag behind. He’s eager to take us to Bo Sang, the umbrella-making village, where we visit the (official?) umbrella factory.



Here too, I’d love to buy some beautiful umbrellas for myself, friends, and family, but they’d take up too much space in my suitcase. Plus, I don’t have the budget—prices depend on the quality and artistic value of each piece.



I settle for taking lots of photos. These stunning creations lend themselves to extraordinary shots with their exquisite color harmonies and the way they’re grouped and displayed.

Of course, as if to mock me, you just posted some stunning photos showcasing your mastery of chiaroscuro, especially the last two. Despite my occasional critiques, know that I truly appreciate your photographic talent. Few non-professionals can produce something like that. You’d think the guy isn’t 20 anymore, that a million things annoy him all the time, and that he walks 30 kilometers a day—so his photos *could* be a bit off-center, a bit blurry, a bit rushed. But no way! Has the expression "fit as a fiddle" ever been more fitting? 😎

Obviously, as if to mock me, you just posted some stunning photos showcasing your mastery of chiaroscuro, especially the last two. Despite my occasional criticisms, know that I appreciate your photographic talent. Few non-professionals can produce something like that. You’d think the guy isn’t 20 anymore, that a million things annoy him all the time, and that he walks 30 km a day—so his photos could be a bit off-center, a bit blurry, a bit rushed. Not at all! Has the expression "fit as a fiddle" ever been so fitting? 😎

Sorry, Joël, maybe your compliments are genuine, but after so many negative comments, I don’t believe a word of it and think you’re being sarcastic and making fun of me. But there’s no need to pile it on... But it’s not a big deal...

From now on, we stop communicating, thank you. Songsam.

That works for me, it was my intention too... I think—especially since I noticed it last year—that you don’t appreciate it when I don’t follow your advice and tips to the letter, and especially when I chose to follow Jojoone1’s advice over yours last year. That kind of behavior is stupid and pointless. All advice is worth considering, but we’re not *obliged* to follow it. Too bad if I made the wrong choice by not listening to you! Your advice is certainly excellent, but some of it just doesn’t suit me...

It takes a lot of goodwill to decide to lend someone a hand. It takes even more to devote more than just a few minutes to it. Over the years, I’ve seen firsthand how it feels to provide answers and see the person completely ignore them. If Songsam is expressing his frustration about this, let’s respect his right to do so. I have the utmost respect for him—he’s undeniably the best contributor in the Thailand section to date.

Besides, the three of us have strong personalities and are set in our ways. That said, it’s sometimes better to keep those traits in check. What’s the point of all these connections if they end in petty arguments? In this situation, I’d rather see givers, a receiver, and then a receiver who becomes a giver in turn. The rest just calls for friendly exchanges. Choosing peace proves your strength.

A quick look around tells me Madame has vanished... She’s stewing outside.

But how could she be stewing outside when he was inside? Sorry, I’ll butt out...

Anyway, with your sense of adventure, you might’ve just shattered this couple’s little idyll...

I see that Thais are just as curious and adventurous when traveling as Indians...

Gorgeous photos, by the way!

Some might say he’s making a fuss, being a drama queen 😛

But how could she chafe at being outside when he was inside?

I'm silly, I don't get it...

Sorry, I'm outta here...

No, stay, don't pull your... uh, drama queen stuff on us...

I see that Thais are just as curious and adventurous when traveling as Indians...

From what I've observed, yeah... When they visit a temple, it's to prostrate themselves and... drop money in the donation box...

Your photos are really beautiful!

I actually wanted to post one right here, now, but the feature’s disabled... I can only upload photos early in the morning (before 9 or 10 AM). Do you have the same issue with yours in your travel journal?

Bye bye...

I'm so silly, I don't understand...

No worries, it doesn't matter at all 😄

No, stay, don’t pull your... uh, your drama queen thing on us...

This is gonna be the new VF meme. Kate better hurry up and trademark it!

Do you also have this problem with yours in your travel journal?

So far, I’ve usually posted my photos late at night—no issues at all.

From what I’ve seen, yeah... When they visit a temple, it’s to bow deeply and... put money in the donation box...

Same thing, then: we see the architectural side, and they only see the magical-practical dimension.

No, stay, don’t pull your M... uh, your drama queen thing on us...

This is gonna be the new VF meme. Kate better hurry up and trademark it!

I’m not a lawyer, but I think she’ll have to ask M... for permission and his rights to the rights. He probably also has a say in using his initial followed by the ellipsis... which clearly identifies him...

No, stay, don’t pull your M... uh, your drama queen stunt on us...

This is gonna become VF’s new meme. Kate better hurry up and trademark it!

I’m not a lawyer, but I think she’ll have to ask M... for permission and his rights to the rights. He must also have a say in the rights to use his initial followed by the ellipsis... which clearly identifies him...

😉

hey! kids, that’s enough bickering now!!!

This is gonna become the new VF meme

Depending on the perspective, the same subject can look quite different.



During my visit to the Umbrella (and Fan) Making Center, I was more captivated by the explosion of colors in this one—the raw expression of the artist—than by the neat, flowery ones made for sale to the public.

Test

Test

Hello, It seems it's finally fixed. A big thank you to the developer who must have worked hard to find the source of the issue and restore the travel journal after nearly a month of it being gone. Best regards,

Depending on the perspective, the image of the same subject can be quite different.



During my visit to the Umbrella (and Fan) Making Center, I was much more captivated by the explosion of colors in this one, with the artist’s raw expression, than by the neat ones with all their little floral patterns meant for sale to the public.



Hello everyone, Thanks for your patience... I’ll be able to continue now, but you’ll need to bear with me a little longer, as I’m leaving for India in three days and I’m in the final stretch of trip prep with tons to do before flying off for 6 months... I’ll pick up this story once I’m settled back in my Indian home...

On top of that, I also need to sort out my upcoming Thailand getaway, including booking flights and planning my stays. I’m thinking of spending a week in Nan, but since travel guides and websites ignore this destination, I’m having to rack my brain to figure out how to get there. I see there’s an airport (but no train station)... And since I’m planning a long 3-week stay in Chiang Rai, I also need to figure out how to make the most of my time exploring the surrounding areas (beyond the Golden Triangle).

Right on time, the travel journal lost in the depths of VF has been found! Deep down, I was convinced it could be retrieved somewhere, but I was starting to lose hope. Mission accomplished. And I hope we’ll keep following your daily life in Kerala alongside mine.

Right on time, the journal lost in the depths of VF was found! Deep down, I was convinced it could be retrieved somewhere, but I was starting to lose hope. Mission accomplished. And I hope we’ll keep following your daily life in Kerala in parallel.

It’s been so long forgotten that I wonder if anyone’s still interested in me picking it back up… Besides, I’m not even sure where I left off…

On another note, as you know from another journal, I just arrived in India a few days ago. I don’t know why, but this year, I’m much more tired from traveling than in previous years. And I found my accommodation in a pretty filthy state, even though I paid someone to clean before I arrived because I find it really unpleasant and depressing to start with a big cleanup right when you arrive, exhausted after a long trip…

I just booked my flight tickets to return to Thailand in January, so picking up this journal feels a bit like reheating yesterday’s leftovers…

Or maybe I’ll do like Jojoone1 and Songsam—just post photos without any text. But then it’d be a photo album, not a travel journal… 😕😄

I’ve already shared quite a bit of text in enough of my travel journals. I’ve even always written way more than what I got in return for it :)

I've already shared enough text in plenty of my travel journals. I've always put in way more than I got back in return 🙂

But Joel, why do you always jump on your soapbox over nothing? Why do you always feel like you're being persecuted? Everyone here is free—well, I hope so—to manage their travel journal however they want. I personally prioritize text over photos. That’s exactly what I wrote, right? I’m speaking for myself. If I only posted photos and no text, I’d consider it a photo album, not a travel journal. That’s just my take, even if I think I’ve seen others share the same opinion.

way more than I got back in return

So you know how it feels when you spend hours and hours putting together a journal and there’s not a single response—not one. At least you got a few replies; it wasn’t total indifference or silence. I got called a “drama queen” just for saying I wasn’t going to keep talking to myself since no one seemed interested, without realizing that this total lack of reaction is completely demotivating.

Hi Marien

Great to see you’re thinking about picking up this travel journal again, with the next one coming early next year...!

We can understand why some contributors might feel demotivated—they dedicate so much of their free time to writing and illustrating their travel journals, just so others can learn, admire, or simply "feast" on their adventures.

As for me, I check VoyageForum twice a day to see new pages from my 3 favorite destinations, so I just want to say: thank you, Marien, thank you, Pagal, thank you, Jojoone, thank you, Kate, and many others—don’t leave us hanging!

Best, Calaf

PS: Writing travel journals takes a lot of selflessness and a "demanding sense of ethics"... a bit like Jansenism!!

But, Joël, why do you always jump on your high horse over nothing? Why do you always feel persecuted?

True, better to climb the curtains than jump on your high horse!

clearly more than in relation to the compensation received

You know how it feels when you spend hours and hours putting together a travel journal and there’s not a single, but not even one, response. At least you had a few—it wasn’t total indifference and silence. They called me a “drama queen” just because I had the bad idea to say I wouldn’t keep talking to myself since no one was interested, without realizing that this non-reaction is completely demotivating.

Apart from the fear of getting shot down by the author, there’s the fact that before, more than one participant would share their opinion. Now there are only readers.

PS: I think being a travel journal writer requires great self-denial and a "demanding moral code"... a bit like Jansenism!!

I love that reference 😄

Message received loud and clear 😅 Thanks so much, Alain... Just a couple more days of patience...

PS: I think being a travel journal writer requires great self-denial and a "demanding moral code"... a bit like Jansenism!!

I love this reference 😄

Personally, this reference surprises me and intrigues me. Something about Jansenism or travel journaling must have gone over my head.

You're really more attached to form than substance, which is clear from your rare and quirky travel journals, by the way 😏

Anyway, nothing to say about Thailand?

Jojo said it—don’t look for some deep meaning here, just an image that represents the dedication it takes to write a quality travel journal. Maybe Calaf could’ve used the myth of Sisyphus and existentialism to make it more relatable.

Speaking of existentialism, why am I wasting my time replying to this post that’s just looking for pointless drama?

I appreciate readers who are demanding and meticulous with others—they push us to be precise, factual, and to go beyond our immediate thoughts. They don’t much care for approximations, even if they’re vividly phrased for clarity. I’m beating my own breast here! Next time, I’ll write: "It’s tough and challenging to write a travel journal that holds up; and even if I were sure it’d be read, as a diary-keeping discipline, I keep at it, do my best, and try to improve."

Or: "I don’t know if the gods exist, but I force myself to believe in them, to be a better person."

Best to you all,

Calaf

Good evening Calaf,

I appreciate the irony in your reply. 🙂 I had understood the metaphor, and my surprise came from the comparison with travel journal writers—especially from someone who doesn’t write one here. I misjudged your compassion, to stay in theme, for those who never miss a chance to write about how difficult it is to publish a “quality travel journal” (we’ve got quite a collection of those here).

@Jojoone

And otherwise, nothing to say about Thailand?

What Marien describes in his two travel journals seems close to what I know about the country and confirms my reservations. But postcard-level impressions can be satisfying enough. (Thanks for the shout-out to my “rare and quirky” travel notes—the counters are going wild 😛)

@Pagal

Besides, on the subject of existentialism, why am I wasting my time replying to this message that’s just looking for pointless controversy?

No need to pile on so much jam. No, the intention wasn’t polemical—I was teasing you about your tendency to play the martyr to deliver “quality travel journals” for us. Forgive my ingratitude.

I was just teasing you about your tendency to sacrifice yourself to offer us “high-quality travel journals.”

As Jojoone so aptly pointed out, you’re confirming that you’re too focused on form—always quick to jump on that—and not enough on substance.

When I mentioned “high-quality travel journals” in this thread, I wasn’t talking about mine but about Marien’s. As for me, despite any *quality* flaws (if that term obsesses you so much), I put a lot of *effort* into trying to provide detailed and well-researched accounts, which isn’t easy with a demanding job, family life, travel, etc.—meaning very limited time. Even if the words make you skeptical, it *does* take sacrifices to start a detailed journal after a workday and putting the kids to bed, at hours when I should be resting before doing it all over again the next day. What’s your irony worth compared to that? I’ll say it: not much...

Now, if you don’t find them high-quality enough that you feel the need to spend your time coming here to be snarky about journals you don’t like—and on top of that, it helps boost the opinion you seem to have of yourself (while inflating your stats in the process)—well, good for you, I’m happy for you 😄

As far as I'm concerned, when it comes to a lack of quality (if that term bothers you so much), I put a lot of effort into trying to provide detailed and well-documented accounts, which isn't easy with a demanding job, family life, traveling, etc.—so very little time to spare. Even if the terms leave you skeptical, it really does take sacrifices to start working on a detailed travel journal after a long day at work and putting the kids to bed, at hours when I should be resting before doing it all over again the next day. How does your sarcasm compare to that? I’ll say it: not much...

But Michael, you don’t have to justify yourself! If some people don’t like our travel journals or our style, they can just not read them.

Why waste your energy responding to that kind of personal attack? Ignore them! That kind of comment only serves to stir up trouble, confusion, and discord, and to derail travel journals by creating heated discussions that have nothing to do with the content they’re trying to sabotage.

I realized a long time ago that when certain usernames pop up on my travel journals, I don’t even read what they’ve written (which is the case here, though I see your reactions). I already know it’ll be nothing but venom and hatred from people jealous of our journals because they can’t make theirs as sincere, moving, or authentic.

Let’s drop it... I’ve actually gone back to working on my next post for this journal. More to come soon...

Now, if you don’t find them good enough to the point where you need to spend your time coming here to be snarky about travel journals you don’t like—and on top of that, it helps you boost the opinion you seem to have of yourself (while racking up those stats in the process)—well, more power to you, I’m happy for you 😏

That said, you still have to appreciate surrealist literature. Personally, I sometimes get excited about the stats just to drop off by the third paragraph, and good for the authors if they’re happy with that. 😉

As Noël Godin said: "Let’s pie, let’s pie the pompous pickles."

And now, on to the next part of the work by one of the greatest living travel journal artists... I always look forward to hearing his take or experience of places I’ve been.

Hello Joël, You’re on a roll this morning!

And now, on to the next part of the work by one of the greatest living travel journal artists...

I love that humor and the way it pokes fun at sterile and stupid attacks. It was ultimately the best response to so much hatred and pettiness. Thank you.

Yes, I like to justify myself to clarify things, which doesn’t mean I’m affected by personal attacks, especially when they’re of little value...

I won’t dwell too much on the individual’s style so as not to overwhelm their emotional meter. I took a quick look out of curiosity. He does indeed have a surreal style that aims to capture the travel experience by prioritizing originality and mental imagery over authenticity, with references that hold great intellectual and artistic value. However, I don’t learn much about him or the countries he visits because, instead of offering me the perspective of a traveler in a place I don’t know, I only feel trapped in the author’s hermetic intellectual universe. That’s probably his goal, after all—he has an audience that loves his style for those same reasons, and that’s perfectly fine.

But what intrigues me more is his tendency to criticize others’ travel journals and stir up heated debates. I struggle to see the point. It must fulfill some need for him. Oh well, I’m done with it—I’m closing the subject...

Feel free to delete this entire discussion from your travel journal!

Alright, back to Marien’s story!

Hi Mickaël

Before this page gets deleted... 😉

To bounce back on the original debate sparked by a tiny phrase that unfortunately veered into personal attacks, I really do think a travel journal requires discipline and a certain intellectual effort. But we shouldn’t forget the pleasure of searching for the right words, finding the perfect expressions (baroque or not 😛), creating images, etc. All while drawing from memories that let us extend the journey by sharing it.

After reading the travel journals of others here, what I appreciate most are those stylistic and approach differences—whether they’re realistic or symbolic.

Yeah, that’s exactly what I was saying. And of course, despite the effort it takes, we enjoy writing and sharing these travel journals with others. That’s definitely true for me!

The real topic, though, was more about discussing why some people feel the need to criticize others with veiled, snarky comments disguised as cryptic remarks. Got any thoughts on that?

The real issue was more about discussing why some people feel the need to criticize others with gratuitous attacks disguised as cryptic remarks. Got an answer for that?

No, it's all good, I'll let Marien's travel journal take its course 😉

After that joyful high-flying interlude among VF members with impressive message stats, I had to reread from the start to get my bearings and remember where we left off.

So, we're talking about Chiang Mai. While waiting for the next part, I see that for a first visit to this country, the ups and downs had you swinging between luck and bad luck, between places to avoid and places you absolutely must discover. Still, it’s a pretty impressive journey for a first trip and one that spares us a lot of clichés. It’s not a miracle—it’s because you put in the effort to do your research and reach out to others. That’s something that should encourage future travelers to put a little more effort into planning their trips...

A shout-out to the Silver Temple, located just outside Chiang Mai’s historic center: this was one of those times when choosing slightly darker photos really paid off. Seriously, those images have a magical quality.

I say: thank you Marien, thank you Pagal, thank you Jojoone, thank you Kate and many others, don’t let us down!

Dear Alain, no, I won’t let you down, whether you’re my only reader or just a handful.

If I took a while to get back to my keyboard, it’s because I’d immersed myself in literature: Jansenism, Blaise Pascal, *Les Provinciales*, *The Myth of Sisyphus*, Albert Camus, Existentialism, Jean-Paul Sartre, but also Molière, *Les Femmes Savantes*, *Monsieur Trissotin*...

But let’s get back to writing more in line with the authenticity of a travel journal...

February 18 Today, I discover a magical temple deep in the forest: Wat Luang Khun Win.



Since I don’t want any last-minute arguments with the driver, I warn him that the last five kilometers can’t be done in a normal car and that we need a 4x4. But on one hand, I don’t want to pay 600 baht as listed in the guide, and on the other, what interests me about this visit is precisely those 5 or 6 km of unpaved road through the jungle—just like when I went to Wat Pha Lat, the temple in the mountain.

The driver didn’t warn me or even ask for my agreement, but his wife is with us again. She bought mangoes for me, he tells me.

When she gets in the car, she wants to give them to me, but it’s too early. We leave at 8 a.m., and I’m already tormented by my need to pee, which is particularly strong this morning. We have to stop at least three times to empty my bladder, the third time around 10:30. We have to eat something at a small roadside eatery, still because of this inability to relieve myself in nature. I don’t even remember what we had. It couldn’t have been great.

The temple is quite far, 80 km away. We arrive in a village where the driver parks within the grounds of the local temple. He suddenly announces: - My “brother” will take us to the temple in a 4x4. His normal rate is 800 baht, but it’ll only cost you 400.

I point out that I intend to walk the last 5 km and that he’ll need to drop me off along the way so I can do this little trek at my own pace and take photos. I love taking photos in nature—there are often magnificent landscapes you can’t truly discover by car, or sometimes there’s a bird, an insect, a snake, or something like that you can’t see when driving.

Since I don’t know the area at all, I let myself be driven and wait until we reach the famous parking lot mentioned in the guide, where the 4x4s depart. Then I’ll tell them I’m continuing the last kilometers on foot. But we drive, and drive, and drive on this very difficult road, and after 45 or 50 minutes, we arrive at the temple.



I realize then that the parking lot where the 4x4s depart was in the village where we met this “brother,” and that in fact, we’ve just covered the last 5 kilometers. I’m really upset. When we arrive, he asks if I’m happy because the site is very beautiful, very wild. And since I’m not Thai (or Indian) and simply not hypocritical or politically correct, and I express my feelings as they come, my answer comes out sharply: - No, I’m not happy! I told you I wanted to walk up. You said yes, yes... But you put me in front of a *fait accompli*, you deceived me!

No one reacts. Not him, not his so-called “brother,” not his wife. And he starts trying to take me somewhere, almost taking charge of my visit. Maybe I’m repeating myself, but what I expect from a driver when I rent a car is for him to take me where I’ve decided to go, but I want to remain completely independent, as if I’d rented a car without a driver. Usually, in India, drivers quickly understand how I use their service and let me go off on my adventures. But this one, on the fourth or fifth outing, is still trying to manage what I’m supposed to see... Like everyone else... Hop, hop, hop, three little tours and off they go. Of course, he starts arguing...

I don’t even let him speak. I tell him gently and politely: - Now, I’m going to do the visit alone. I want to be left alone. You three do what you want, but I intend to visit at my own pace and take my time.



And I walk away through the forest to discover the different buildings. They’re indeed magnificent, but what adds to their charm is that they’re nestled among trees and vegetation, sometimes without even a marked path to access them.



What’s stranger than this staircase whose steps are Naga scales?



At one point, I come out into a sort of clearing where all the beautiful wooden buildings are highlighted by magnificent multicolored lanterns.



I meet up with my travel companions again, and once more, the driver—I never managed to learn or understand his name—advises me to go see a Buddha. The one he wanted to show me as soon as we arrived.

I head toward this building where I’m literally thrown out, even aggressively, by a monk who tells me this space is reserved only for monks. Not just the building containing the Buddha, but the entire surrounding area. I feel that same impression I’ve had sometimes in India: as a foreigner, I’m “dirty,” “impure,” and I’ll defile the place with my presence, even if it’s in the middle of nature. I hate this narrow-mindedness and lack of tolerance. Since I don’t take off running and just retreat slowly, the monk goes after me again. I really don’t like his tone. I feel even more attacked because the driver and his “brother” had advised me to go admire this statue, which they themselves had just seen, raving about the beauty of this Buddha.

Since I’ve taken my time and taken lots of photos, we consider leaving.

This time, I tell them there’s no way I’m getting back in the vehicle—I want to take my time. It’s barely noon, so I can’t imagine going back to the hotel already after paying 3000 baht for the full-day outing. - I want to walk back down, take my time crossing the forest on foot along the road, take photos of the different landscapes I saw on the way up, especially the picturesque roofs of a small village lost in the forest. - The road is very bad. It’s dangerous... You could fall, sprain an ankle, break a leg...

Thais, like Indians, don’t like walking. They can’t imagine that my hiking shoes are perfectly suited to this terrain, and above all, they can’t imagine my expeditions on much steeper and more dangerous trails when I did the “Monks trail” and got lost in the jungle. I feel my temper rising. I’d like to tell them: - Just leave me alone, I’ve walked on far more perilous terrain... But once again, since I don’t want any trouble, don’t want to get upset, and since I sense they’re genuinely worried, I hold back, reassure them, and despite my frustration and disappointment, I decide to get in the car with them.

I can tell they’re relieved, as if I’d just escaped a great danger. Immediately, the driver tells me he’ll stop whenever I want to take a photo. But what he doesn’t understand is that I don’t feel comfortable with this system because I might ask him to stop often, and that bothers me. Because he, who isn’t a photographer, won’t understand that different viewpoints can radically change a landscape photo...



Besides, in a car, you often miss interesting, aesthetic, or lively subjects: the particular color of leaves or flowers, a bird, a spider, a snake, a huge scorpion... Especially from the very high seat of a 4x4. And this one is particularly high. I realize this every time I have to get out...



On the way, I ask them to stop for a moment in the small village we passed through this morning. I want to take nice photos of all these old wooden houses, especially those in the middle of the forest.



There’s a tiny market where I can buy passion fruits—I love them!—for 35 baht per kilo. It’s unbelievably cheap.

The vehicle owner takes us to eat at a place he knows, and of course, it’s a friend of his. It’s fair game, so why not? But he immediately starts talking about how this friend runs an elephant camp and begins praising and promoting it. - I’m not interested in elephants at all. I’ve spent half my life in India for nearly 20 years now, so I’m starting to know elephants...

And speaking of elephants, I was particularly surprised by the hype around them everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. In guides, agencies, hotels, even on the street, as if tourists come to Thailand mainly to see elephants and as if it’s the country’s major tourist attraction... Strangely, since I’m not interested in this elephant camp, we don’t stay there, and he takes us to another restaurant.

We eat very well there, but for me—and for them—the best part of the place is meeting a group of elderly Thai women on an outing. I say “on an outing” because I find them particularly overexcited, almost “tipsy.” It’s as if they’ve never seen a Western tourist in their lives... It’s like I’m being flirted with by fifteen “ladies” between 60 and 70 years old.

All these chatty women, as talkative as parakeets, are heading to the temple we just left. My driver adds to their enthusiasm by telling them—totally falsely, he knows it—that I walked up to the temple, that I didn’t want to go by vehicle... They’re amazed because I’ve noticed since arriving in this country that Thais can’t walk 5 meters without a vehicle.

The leader—I really don’t see the point of spelling “cheffe” to feminize the word. We say *la peur*, *la terreur*, *une humeur*, *une amitié*, etc... These are just more pontificators who felt the need to add an *e* to certain activities or professions when they’re practiced by women... All my life, we’ve said *la chef*, *la prof*, etc... So, the “leader” asks me my age. - I won’t tell you. It’s whatever you think it is—that should suit you. And I’m not asking yours either. Laughter and approving giggles, and they fly off in a loud rustling of wings and feathers...

After the meal, the “brother” invites us to his house. I’m surprised when we arrive because my driver tries to locate the house and seems not to know this place at all! If the 4x4 owner is his brother, how is it possible he doesn’t know his house? He marvels at everything he sees, at the location first, then at the large room where we’re received. A sort of magnificent wooden pavilion. I receive a very warm welcome from his supposed brother’s wife. She speaks to me in French and proudly announces that she speaks a little of our language. And indeed, she’s not bad at all. Moreover, to my great surprise, when we arrived, she greeted me with a handshake, Western-style. She’s really very different from my other companions, very Westernized, if I may say so. However, she’s sorry she only has water to offer me, as this is a completely unexpected visit.

Another surprise: the two women barely greet each other, don’t speak at all, and my driver’s wife stays completely aside, standing, while we’re offered seats, glued to her phone and clearly sulking. Surprising for sisters-in-law, isn’t it?

Our hostess explains that they own a guesthouse and have also set up another place as a “luxury tent camp.” She shows me the photos. Not only are the accommodations superb and very comfortable, with modern, high-end sanitary facilities, but the environment is idyllic. - This is absolutely the kind of place I love, and I would’ve preferred to be here rather than in the city in Chiang Mai surrounded by so many tourists.

They then show us the upper floor of the house, set up as guest rooms. The rooms are beautifully decorated with great taste, respecting the Thai style, nature-oriented, and very ecological. Only downside, but a big one for me! - But there’s no bathroom?... - You’ll bathe in the river, the master of the house tells me with such seriousness that I believe him, and I must make such a face that the woman bursts out laughing. - No, no, he’s joking. There is a bathroom. It’s shared by the three rooms, one of which seems to be theirs or a family member’s. So it’s really immersion in a family. Apart from the bathroom, I like the idea a lot. But for me, without private toilets easily accessible at night, as you know, it’s a deal-breaker.

While talking to me, she explains that her husband has been a long-time friend of my driver, which I had guessed. The visit continues with a superb kitchen under construction, all in wood, connected to the house as an extension but open to the outside, the garden, and the river. This very friendly but also very professional woman does a good job promoting her guesthouse: - There are also walks to do all around the countryside... And unknown, isolated temples in nature, in the forest, like the one you visited this morning. It’s very quiet... You only hear the birds... - That’s exactly what I’ll be looking for if I come back to Thailand next year... I hate touristy places... I tell her about my disappointment with Chiang Mai and all the tourists. - I’m very interested for next year... Do you have a website? - No, we’re on Facebook. We rent through Facebook. (Me, Facebook—I hate it.) - I don’t have a Facebook account. - No problem, you’ll get our details from your driver if you’re interested... You can ask him for the information, and we’ll get in touch through him.

We spend a very pleasant moment with these people. Our hostess apologizes again for only having water to offer me. - And besides, the house is messy—I wasn’t expecting a visit...

We hit the road back to Chiang Mai, and I arrive at the hotel around 4:30 p.m. Time to drop off my things, pee, and I’m off again at 5 p.m. to the Night Market because I want to see if I can find shirts for Johny, Praveen, Dineshan, Riju, Ratheesh... who loved the shirts I bought myself yesterday and all want one: - I will give you money back... Yes, I know the song... 🤝 😢

And I hit the jackpot right at the start of the market at the same shirt stall I found at another market yesterday, and I can buy three shirts. But I splurge on two more for myself because I find them really beautiful and with an uncommon design. I try to negotiate the price, but... - I gave you the rock-bottom price of 250 baht yesterday... I can’t go lower... But finally, at the last moment, his wife intervenes—she seems to be the manager because yesterday, he already asked her if she agreed to lower the price to 250 baht. - I’ll still give you a 50 baht discount on the total, she tells me, but really, I can’t do more. I don’t make much on a shirt. At 250, it’s just enough... I feel ashamed—less than 1.50 € for me, who just spent almost 40 €, while this last-minute discount might mean a lot to her...

I’m sure she’s telling the truth. From my long experience in India, I know that as long as they can negotiate, they do. But when they’ve reached their limit, it’s no longer possible to go further.

I get back to my room at 11:30 p.m., which is a nighttime feat for me. Before that, I stop to eat at a Food Center. What I order is delicious but served on a cardboard plate. The place turns out to be extremely noisy with blaring Western music, the kind I hate. I don’t have a good time there, and I’m glad to get back to the hotel. I’m so happy about my day that I rush to tell those I love about it and want to take a look at my photos from the day. They’re so successful and especially so numerous that I go to bed at 1:30 a.m.!

And that’s when I realize I forgot to pay the driver his 400 baht for the 4x4. When we arrived and I paid him the balance of what I owed, he risked a timid and syrupy: - Don’t you have an extra reward for me? And I realize at bedtime that, being a good Thai, he didn’t dare ask me outright for the 4x4 supplement...

But me, I’m French—I’m not used to all these Asian language twists. I’m not familiar with them on this first trip to Thailand. On the contrary, his request really annoyed me because I had intended to give him a good tip because even if he didn’t entirely satisfy me as a driver, he’s a nice guy. And besides, on each outing, I paid for all the drinks and meals we had together, including those for his wife since she imposed herself each time, and also the entrance fees for certain attractions that he wasn’t exempt from as a driver...

Hi Jean Marie, I just read your latest posts about your stay in Thailand, and since you mentioned possibly going back, you can find some info on Chiang Khan, Sang Khom, and Nong Khai on my personal site. We really enjoyed the few days we spent there...

Hi there, Well, here we are—you now know where we stand... Still in Chiang Mai... Won’t be for much longer, though... Soon we’ll head to Chiang Rai. Thanks for your active participation in this travel journal.

Hi Jean Marie, I just read your latest posts about your stay in Thailand, and since you mentioned possibly going back, you can find some info on Chiang Khan, Sang Khom, and Nong Khai on my personal site. We really enjoyed the few days we spent there...

Hi Anne, that’s kind of you. Thanks for the offer! I think I’ll take it pretty easy this time. It’ll be two weeks in Nan and the surrounding area, then three weeks in Chiang Rai and its region...

As we arrive at the hotel after our last temple outing in the forest, and I’m about to pay him for his service, the driver suggests taking me to see one last temple a bit far from Chiang Mai. Since I’m not exactly thrilled about spending more on an extra outing, he insists: - It’s an exceptional temple! Very few people visit it—hardly any tourists know about it! The sly guy! He’s hit the sweet spot, the perfect argument to convince me. And he continues: - It’s exactly the kind of place you’ll love… Even though it’s really far, I’ll only charge you 2500 baht.

He’s so persuasive with his praise for the place and the price that I let myself be convinced. And I didn’t regret it… Especially since I wasn’t quite sure how to fill my last days in Chiang Mai. I’d soon realize I should’ve spent much less time here and added those last two days to Chiang Rai instead…

For the fourth time in a row, I see him show up with his “shadow.” I wonder if she ever leaves his side in their life, if she’s afraid of some hidden infidelity under the guise of a fake outing with a tourist, or if she just hasn’t seen this temple yet, or if she’s up for another ride with a free meal, etc…

If she’d been as warm as the woman we’d met two days earlier, I wouldn’t have minded. But instead, every time, I get the impression she’s sulking, completely ignoring my existence even though I acknowledge her and don’t complain about her joining us uninvited. Out of all the times—many—I’ve hired a car with a driver, this is the first time a family member of the driver has crashed like this. Except when I went to Dungarpur in Rajasthan. But the driver had asked for permission to bring his mother—and his brother—who wanted to take the opportunity to visit their mother living there. And it was a real celebration. Plus, I’d formed a strong bond with him a few days earlier after being stung by hundreds of bees (over 120 stingers were removed).

So this time, I’m the one playing the Asian by smiling when I actually think she’s got some nerve.

As we drive toward this new discovery, the driver asks me: - When are you leaving for Chiang Rai? - Sunday… - And how are you getting there? - By bus… - If you want, I can take you there… - But I’ve already got everything planned… I’ve already bought my bus ticket, and it’s non-refundable, and I didn’t budget for a car ride, and I’ve already arranged a whole schedule with a friend. (Because I see where this is going…) - No, no, I’m not asking for anything. I can take you for free. I have a friend who’s sick. He’s been hospitalized, and I’m going to visit him because he’s all alone there, he doesn’t have anyone… So I can take you. It’s no problem. And it saves me from making the trip alone… - If it makes you happy, why not? But anyway, I’ve already got my non-refundable bus ticket… (Something tells me there’s a catch behind this offer…)

When we reach the sanctuary, I’m stunned to discover a massive complex with multiple buildings, each more extravagant and flashy than the last. Is it beautiful? I don’t know… It’s extraordinarily kitsch. Very colorful, grandiose, impressive, photogenic.





After this avalanche of Buddhas dripping in gold since I arrived in Thailand, I’m happy not to see many here—instead, all sorts of colors that remind me of enamels and mosaics.





I’ve since learned that construction started in 2016 or 2017 and keeps adding new buildings year after year…





In fact, other structures are currently under construction, and I’m more fascinated by the ongoing work than by the already completed pieces, which showcase the immense talent of the artists.





I thoroughly enjoy spending three and a half hours visiting this temple, taking my time to take hundreds of beautiful photos. It’s really hard—if not impossible—for me to pick just ten to show you. My taste might not be yours…





If any of you want to see more, you’ll find plenty on my YouPic account.

When I finally meet up with my companions again, he’s as delighted as I am and thanks me: - It’s fabulous! This is our first time here, thanks to you… However, his enthusiasm can’t hide his wife’s impatience—she’s got a face like thunder and shoots me furious looks that don’t escape her husband, who, being a good guy, desperately tries to justify her: - My wife is really hungry… You stayed a long time… I resist the urge to tell him that if she’d stayed home, she could’ve eaten on time and to her heart’s content…

After we’ve eaten, on the way back, he suddenly announces: - I can’t go to Chiang Rai because I’ve got work—I’ve got a request to take someone to the golf course on Sunday, the day you’re leaving… I’m not fooled. I understand perfectly that this is payback because they again pointed out during the meal that I’d stayed a long time at the temple, while they thought they’d be back in Chiang Mai for lunch… I guess his wife must’ve reproached him for offering to take me to Chiang Rai for free…

The next day, my last in Chiang Mai. I force down some chicken bits in my room while my last load of laundry spins in the laundromat next to the hotel… Then I pack my suitcase to avoid rushing at the last minute on departure day. Especially since it’s going to be a hassle to fit my Buddha, which is way too long. But mostly, yesterday and a bit this morning, I decided to treat myself. Since I had some money left in my budget, I bought some meters of beautiful silk yesterday, directly from a renowned factory, and some linen this morning. It was on sale—I really got it cheap at 135 baht per meter (barely 4 €!!!). I’m going to have some nice shirts made once I’m back in India. But once in the bag, the fabric rolls feel really heavy. I hope I won’t exceed the weight limit for the return flight.

I was an idiot—I should’ve brought a bigger suitcase. Though I had a feeling I’d bring stuff back. But I didn’t think… I’m getting old… I also went to buy the missing medication for my GERD (also forgotten in India…). I tried to do without it, but it was getting really tough. 34 € for a box of 14 tablets! That’s insane! Medication is ridiculously expensive in Thailand—more expensive than in France… I don’t know why. It’s money down the drain since I’ve got my stock in Kannur. For 34 €, I could’ve bought another beautiful silk roll—even some really high-quality silk.

When I finally finish my departure preparations, I send a message to the driver to ask if he could take me to the bus station Sunday morning before he picks up his golf client… The answer comes almost instantly: - If you can give me 2500 baht, I can take you to Chiang Rai.

No comment!

He’ll pick me up at 9:30 to take me to the bus station. The bus doesn’t leave until 11:00 and a few minutes, but you have to be there half an hour before departure, and since the traffic jams in Chiang Mai are as bad as Bangkok’s, he said it’s better to leave at 9:30.

I’m really glad I followed my idea of doing extended stays. For me, it would’ve been terrible to spend three days here, four days there, five days somewhere else, packing and unpacking…

Posting travel journals on VF is turning into a real chore. I just wrote a long message to pagal on their Rajasthan travel journal. Everything was fine when I clicked send—then it all disappeared! The post above took forever to upload the photos. Once it was ready, I clicked send, and suddenly the page changed. I ended up on a completely different section, with no way to go back, even though I’d saved it by clicking preview. I had to start all over again, including re-uploading all those photos. Finally, it’s all good! Happy reading! !

All this just as I posted that I was really looking forward to your reactions 😠

February 23

I don’t know exactly why, but I feel like I’m at a turning point in my trip—like it’s finally about to begin... It’s about time! 😅 Not that I haven’t loved Thailand, but up until now, I’ve felt like I haven’t really done what I’d imagined for this trip, for this country... Maybe it’s because, thanks to Joël, I’ll have a driver to take me where *I* want to go, not where *he* wants. - Hi Jean Marie, the driver will be available. His name is Phajon. You can reach him at 08426... or 0857... You’ll see, he’s very reasonably priced. He’s a bit hard of hearing on the phone, but in person, it’s fine. Speak loudly and arrange a meet-up. You’ll sort out the rest in person.

A big thank you, Joël, once again, for connecting me with Phajon.

I’m also pretty hard of hearing on the phone, especially when it comes to English, which is why I hate communicating by phone in India or here in Thailand. I already struggle to understand people in person, but over the phone? It’s a nightmare—I don’t understand a thing. I was hoping we could communicate via WhatsApp. But unfortunately, Joël tells me Phajon isn’t on WhatsApp. Most Thais use a different app. I’d really like him to pick me up at the bus station when I arrive. When I don’t know a city, it’s always a bit tricky to get to my hotel, especially since this one is in the countryside, far from Chiang Rai—20 km away. - Arrival at the bus station, terminal 1 at 3:20 PM. If you can give him that info... - Phajon will wait for you from 11 AM Sunday at the arrival. He immediately understood it was the "greenbus." The village where you’ll be staying is 2 km from his place. You’ll see—he catches on fast and he’s a character. It’ll liven up your stay.

What a stroke of luck that he lives so close to my accommodation. I was worried about choosing a base so far from the city center. Since I can’t use WhatsApp, I could email him my schedule to start planning our outings. I’ll be staying in Chiang Rai for 9 days, but I won’t be able to afford a car ride every day... But he doesn’t have an email address either.

Our meeting starts with a cheerful communication mix-up. While I’m still on the bus, I get a message from Joël: - He won’t come because you didn’t call him back. Ask your hotel to call him this afternoon without fail so he can pick you up, and then you can discuss. - Oh! Well, that’s a great start! You didn’t tell me I had to call to confirm. - Have you arrived? - No, I’m still on the way—I told you I’d arrive at 3:30 PM... I try to send him an SMS, but it won’t go through. I told you I can only communicate via WhatsApp. I can’t make calls with the SIM card I have—it’s data-only.

I send a message to my accommodation and ask them to contact him, give him my arrival time, and the correct bus station, since there are two in Chiang Rai. - I just reached him—he said you called, and now everything’s OK. - Phew! Thanks. - I’m relieved for you too. I made a mistake—I didn’t give him the right arrival info. Communication between three old guys isn’t easy... 😅😂. Once you’ve got him, sort out the rates and your schedule with him right away. - Of course... - He’s already at the bus station. He’s near the green sign with the number 13 and has a red banana... - I just arrived—I found him...

A few minutes later, as we’re driving to my village... - Did the first contact go well? - The first contact, yes. He’s very nice, but I didn’t really understand what he said about my plans. I get the impression he’s saying the last outing isn’t possible... He’s really embarrassed because he doesn’t have an air-conditioned car. He picked me up in a pickup truck. It seems like a real problem for him. I can tell he’s worried I won’t want to ride around in a pickup without comfort or AC. So he offers me a very attractive deal: 1,000 baht per day as a driver + fuel. And he’s relieved when I tell him I couldn’t care less about the AC and that his vehicle is just fine as it is.

Since I don’t know the area, I don’t have a precise plan—just the places Joël recommended that I showed him on my itinerary. But I’m ready to go anywhere he suggests, as long as it’s in the mountains, waterfalls, villages, forests—anything, as long as I don’t see any more tourists... Except tomorrow, when we’ll do the Chiang Rai temple tour, and then—nature, here I come!

By the time we arrive at my room, it’s already past 5 PM. I’m dripping with sweat, feeling dirty and covered in dust. All I want is to rush into the shower and relax in this idyllic haven. We’re greeted by a pretty girl, maybe 16 or 17 at most. As nice and pretty as she is, I don’t think it’s very professional to be welcomed by someone so young. Especially when she tells me the room isn’t ready. It’s actually a sort of bungalow on stilts in the middle of a charming exotic garden. A quick look around tells me there are three of them—two small ones and a larger one. The girl points to "mine," one of the small ones, at the very back of the garden under thick foliage. At least I’ll be in the shade all day if I stay here to enjoy the tranquility of this bucolic spot. But given how tired I am, I’m annoyed the room isn’t ready, even though it’s been booked for months with confirmation and reconfirmation, and even paid directly by Booking.com two days ago via my registered card. - When will the room be ready? - Tomorrow. Tonight, you’ll have this one, up there... She points to a wooden two-story building. It’s picturesque but looks rather old and poorly maintained. I protest because I don’t want to unpack my things just to repack them the next day... As often happens with difficult arrivals after a long or tiring trip—or both, which is the case today—I’m really not handling this setback well, and I flat-out refuse the one-night temporary room. The girl looks panicked... - I’ll ask my sister... She’s not here, she hasn’t come back yet...

Phajon, who hasn’t left and is waiting for me to get settled, seems to share my disappointment, if not my anger. The teenager comes back: - It’s okay, you can have the room now. And to my great surprise, the room that wasn’t ready suddenly is—like magic! I realize it must have been promised to other travelers for tonight... I don’t dig deeper into the reason...

But I’m not done with surprises... The room is ridiculously small—9 m² at most. A fridge in one corner makes the space even tighter. The bed takes up the remaining area, and even between the bed and the fridge, you have to turn sideways to get through. There’s only 50 cm of space between the edges of the bed and the walls on the other three sides. No table, of course—no room for one in such a tiny space—no chair, no nightstand, no furniture for clothes... Where am I supposed to put my clothes, my computer? Or store my suitcase, other than leaving it blocking one of the three paths around the bed... I’m stunned! - But this is tiny! Not even a chair to sit on! No table to put my computer and my other things! The girl calls her sister... - You can have the room I first offered you for the whole stay. I go see the room in question. It’s a bit larger, but it’s not clean at all. No chair, no table, no closet, no clothes rack. Next to the bed, there’s a messy pile of unappealing clothes—so dirty they look grimy. Shoes, dirty socks, worn-out pants. Who’s staying in this room? And how could this room, which was supposed to be ready for my first night, have been offered to me when the other, clean one wasn’t? I refuse to take this room...

Meanwhile, night has fallen. Phajon doesn’t say a word and looks dismayed by my distress. I can’t open my two-compartment suitcase in the room. There’s no space except to put it on the bed. I can’t stand this annoying habit of my Indian friends who travel with me or stay at my place—putting their filthy travel bags (that have been on dirty train floors and sidewalks covered in dog pee, monkey pee, or... human pee) on the clean bed where they’ll sleep—often without a bedspread. No way am I putting my suitcase on the bed and then lying down after undressing and showering. I need to get my Odomos from my suitcase—brought from India, the most effective mosquito repellent there is—because I’m being attacked from all sides by swarms of mosquitoes. The thick foliage was sheltering them! I have to open the suitcase on the wooden bench along the terrace, but I can’t put my clothes anywhere—of course, what you need urgently is always at the bottom of the suitcase!—because the table and the rest of the bench and chairs, all dark wood, are covered in dust, twigs, and various insects drawn to the dim light of the small lamp. But at that exact moment, the electricity decides to cut out, and I can’t see a thing. Phajon still hasn’t left and is silently watching my frustration, looking perplexed. I tell him to go, that I’ll handle the rest of the evening...

And on top of everything, there’s nothing to eat—just cookies and ice cream. Booking.com mentioned a possible dining service if desired. And I’m starving! No breakfast, no lunch—just two clementines and a banana. I’m hypoglycemic; I can barely stand. Joël had written: - Every evening, ask Phajon to bring you food, or buy fruit during the day for the evening... Well, yes, that’s what I’d planned—that’s what I did in Chiang Mai. No breakfast in the morning, but lots of tea and coffee, then a good brunch between 11 AM and 2 PM, sometimes even at 3 PM, and in the evening, fruit or snacks bought along the way... But here, I was hoping for a real meal... No choice tonight—I’ll have to make do with what’s available...

I have a heated exchange with the owner via WhatsApp. I tell her I’ll leave first thing in the morning and threaten to make a scene with Booking.com and the Thai tourism authorities if I’m not fully refunded for the amount already paid, since she doesn’t seem willing to refund me. She finally shows up late in the evening. She offers me a larger room for tomorrow. I’m about to refuse and stick to my plan of leaving, but at the same time, I don’t want to waste my energy arguing with her. She ends up offering me rice with a little pork and an egg. It’s very good but not nearly enough. I have to order some touristy fast food to fill up because I’m *really* hungry. It’s crazy that even here, I’m running into this "tourist" vibe I hate.

It’s always a bit of a gamble with guesthouses. Sometimes you luck out, and sometimes it’s terrible. The travelers gave the place top ratings, but they’re all people who stayed one or two nights, with almost no luggage, and they’re young, mostly...

Before he leaves, I ask Phajon to pick me up tomorrow to go to Chiang Rai. We’ll look for accommodation that suits me, and then he’ll leave me to explore the interesting temples in Chiang Rai on my own. I’ll get around on foot—I’m used to walking. And I’ll see at the end of the day if he can bring me back, depending on where I find my room. What I appreciate is that he agrees to come at 7 AM. Usually, drivers aren’t keen on such early starts. I explain that it’s the best time to visit the temples before the tourists arrive, and he understands perfectly. So I need to go to bed early—I really need a restful night to decompress. Of course, the place is beautiful—we’re in the countryside, surrounded by birds that will wake me up tomorrow morning—but the room’s discomfort is really striking. It’s a real letdown, especially after the 20 days of comfort I just had in Chiang Mai for almost the same price.

In the end, I have to bring the suitcase inside. I can’t leave it on the terrace with all the insects, the cats, maybe even rats... I spread a large towel on the bed under the suitcase and have to sleep with the computer and its accessories, plus the open suitcase, all on the bed next to me. I never would’ve imagined such a situation in Thailand. You only see this in India. And I send photos and videos to the owner to show her I’m not just being difficult—I have real reasons to complain about the cramped space, the impossibility of opening my suitcase, and the conditions I have to store my things and sleep in.

I see that the hotel hassles you can experience in India are the same in Thailand...

But given how tired I am, I’m upset that the room isn’t ready even though it’s been booked for months with confirmation and reconfirmation, and even paid for directly through Boobing.com

Maybe it’s precisely because instead of going through Booking, you went through Boobing. If you don’t know what the "boobing" practice is, I suggest you Google it—VF’s prudish admins might censor me if I explained it here 😄

I can’t stand this annoying habit of my Indian friends who travel with me or stay at my place: they put their filthy travel bag(s)—which have been dragged across dirty train floors and sidewalks covered in dog, monkey, or even human pee—on the clean bed where they’re about to sleep, often without a bedspread.

Same here—I’ve never understood why they have this cultural habit of putting dirty luggage on clean beds! It’s happened to me countless times, whether with friends from Barmer or hotel porters.