December 9, 2019
Walls and bridges
New Sukhothai to Suwankhalok
Dear little friends,
Staying in our little Baan Thai bungalow reminded me a lot of old-fashioned teardrop campers from the 60s, with the wood-paneled walls and tight quarters. The bed was so tightly wedged into a corner that I could read propped up against the wall like a cozy treehouse. But we were climbing all over each other all the time, that would be fun if we were in our 20s but sadly we aren’t.
I have said this before but it bears repeating, that the moment of freedom when you push that pedal away from a place is kind of heady stuff. We don’t know anything about Suwankhalok but Bruce thinks he may have stayed there in 1974 when they were on an art tour with his St. Olaf College group. That being said, of course that was a long time ago and in practical terms this is still new territory, which is always fun.
The Yom River in New Sukhothai has been walled off, evidence that there must have been catastrophic flooding there in the past decade or so. One of the restaurants we ate at had a very old photo of the river 100 years ago, with Chinese junks and other small boats crowding the banks. Now there is a ten-foot concrete wall that completely blanks out the river, which you can only see from the bridge. People climb steps over and go fishing but that's the extent of interaction with their river, which is why there was a town there in the first place. We followed the path that hugs the sinuous path of the Yom for several miles, riding through quiet neighborhoods in the morning sunshine. Old people warmed themselves out by their front gates, little fires smoldered out, dogs slept after their strenuous nights of barking and running around in their packs looking for girls.
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Once in awhile there would be a small swinging bridge crossing the river, just big enough for one motorbike or a loaded touring bike to go across at a time. Bruce demonstrated his bridge courage by clattering over the wooden slats while I filmed him. Now that he has crossed the Mawlamyine Nightmare Bridges without incident he is full of bridge courage.
The concrete disappeared and the Yom looked like a natural river again, and the paved road became intermittently a clay/dirt road, it was lots of fun. Dogs woke up and bothered us but nobody was biting and I usually seem to be able to talk them out of aggressive action. Eventually we had to join up with the highway, which was busier than we had hoped and didn’t have much of a shoulder. But we were going north, the sun was behind us, it was not hot, and the scenery was pretty. I wear an earplug in my right ear (we are riding on the left) to dull the traffic roar and keep myself more relaxed on busier roads. People drive too fast.
We stopped for an iced coffee and I mapped out another route that would take us off the busy highway, a “walking route” that Google maps came up with. We took a left, found the alternative, and had a little adventure riding through rice fields, palm oil plantations, and got a little lost in a fun way. The birds were amazing, it felt good to be offroad, and we saw some farming action. But eventually we had to return to the highway and crush it out to Suwankhalok. The earplug went back in.
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4 years ago
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Suwankhalok seemed like a pretty nice town and as we entered the small downtown area we saw a promising looking noodle place and swung in. There was a very old sweet-faced lady sitting in the center of the cooking area directing traffic and taking the money. We pointed at the dishes we saw on a large poster on the wall, and then noticed that her face was on the poster too. She was famous! Once in awhile we stumble on a humble restaurant that are institutions in their communities, usually reigned over by older women who have perfected their particular specialty and are honored by locals. This was one of those places, and the dishes we chose were lovely and unique.
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We decided it was time to stay at a city hotel, and the one we chose had a distinct 60s look. The lady at the desk seemed indifferent to our presence but decided to take our money and hand us a key. We walked up the terrazzo steps with our bags and Bruce got a pretty strong deja vu hit that they had indeed stayed at this hotel in 1974. There is probably no way to know for sure and a lot of these old hotels in Thailand look alike but I’ll bet he did.
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4 years ago
4 years ago
The room itself was charmless with a window that had a great view of an adjoining concrete wall, just enough room between buildings for pigeons to roost and coo in. The other side of the building had windows and there were very few people staying there so the message we got was loud and clear. Sometimes things work out that way. Apparently the restaurant downstairs was karaoke central so perhaps they were trying to spare us that at least. Honestly, after a day of riding I can sleep through almost anything so it didn’t matter to me, my needs are a hot shower and clean bedding and a door that locks and two bottles of water. There was also another nude lady on the bathroom wall to spiff things up and add tons of romance and class to the scene. This not a painting or poster, by the way, but actual tiles set into the tiled wall of a lovely young lady clothed only in flowers and a sarong slipping down to her ankles.
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It was the eve of another national holiday (Constitution Day) and the sidewalks were being rolled up early, with shop after shop pulling down their metal doors with loud clangs of finality. We walked around and finally found a place that would make us some fried rice, but on the way back to the hotel we discovered a huge open air evening market of produce and food that we were just around the corner from the hotel! How did we miss that? We found a papaya, we found a box of milk, we had a bed, and we were fed. The bad karaoke downstairs wasn’t keeping me from an honest night’s sleep and the lady on the bathroom wall had nothing to say to me either.
Today's ride: 32 miles (51 km)
Total: 405 miles (652 km)
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| Comment on this entry | Comment | 6 |
I'm not a St. Olaf alumni or anything, but I live less than 35 miles from there, and I visited the campus quite often back when I was in the paint business. And what a beautiful campus it is. It's one of the nicest I've seen, and way nicer than the campus of crosstown rival, Carlton College--an equally prestigious school.
Well, I've gone on long enough. If you were part of a different St. Olaf College group that went to Thailand, I apologize.
4 years ago
Ok, I admit it, I was an Ole. Attending St. Olaf changed my life because I hooked onto a semester abroad in Asia in 1974. I completely fell in love with all aspects of Asian cultures. In fact, I quit St. Olaf at the end of the semester while still in Thailand. I wrote them a letter saying that after studying Japanese, Chinese and Thai cultures I felt the program was unfinished and needed to continue to India. And that’s where I went. Upon returning to the States I attended the University of MN in Asian Studies. At the time, ironically, St. Olaf offered no classes on Asia. None! The University however had one of the best programs in the country for Asian Studies. I feel honored and lucky to have been able to attend both St. Olaf and the University of Minnesota.
I remember years ago there was a yearly contest (by whomever) as to which college campus in the country had the most beautiful campus. Carlton and St. Olaf took turns winning every other year - St. Olaf for its buildings and Carlton for its grounds. I agree, there can't be more beautiful buildings than those at St. Olaf.
I moved from Mpls. to Portland, Oregon in 1983 but my entire family is in the Mpls. area.
4 years ago
A while back, I had a discussion on this site with Andrea regarding unusual sports team names. She told me about the "Cheesemakers" of Tillamook and the "Sandcrabs" of your Florida High School. (DIG, DIG!) Considering the Ole and Lena jokes all of us Minnesotans know so well, "Oles" is a pretty good one too.
4 years ago
4 years ago
4 years ago