Big Ears
One of the biggies on our “must do” list for Thailand was a visit to an elephant camp. After screwing around for a couple of weeks in Chiang Mai we finally decided that we’d better get moving on an elephant experience or we were going to run out of time.
After asking some of our new friends in town we quickly decided that Patara Elephant Farm, with their solid reputation for caring for the welfare of their animals, was our first choice. We fired off an email asking about availability.
The reply came back quickly: there was none, at least not for the three weeks we had remaining in Chiang Mai. I locked myself in a phone booth and screamed for a couple of minutes, Ron Burgundy style, then fired off an email to our second choice, Chai Lai Orchid.
Chai Lai is a resort that also hosts elephant experiences, and their stated goal is to help reduce sex trafficking by training and empowering at-risk young women. They also reportedly took very good care of their elephants, and when we heard back from them that we could visit in a few days we were thrilled.
We were picked up with a few other folks from the Three Kings Monument in the center of the Old City, and about an hour later we stepped out of our songthaew in front of a small shack by the side of the road in the jungle.
Our guide greeted us with a broad smile and beckoned us to follow. We crossed a narrow Indiana Jones-style footbridge over a river that made Braeden laugh when it swayed back and forth. It made me wish I was wearing Depends.
At the end of the bridge we found the resort itself, tucked into the dense foliage on the steep riverbank. The staff led us to a thatched deck overlooking the river and gave us chilled coconuts to cool us off while we waited to meet the elephants. We sat for awhile, watching the river burble by below, carrying the occasional bamboo raft bearing tourists.
The staff informed us that our raft ride would be first, so we left our belongings in a small shed and hopped in the back of a pickup truck. The truck took us a mile or two upriver, then bounced off the road onto a rocky path through the jungle. When the river came into view again we saw dozens of long bamboo rafts waiting on the bank.
The three us us hopped on one, directed by our guide, and we took a peaceful cruise down the little river on the creaky bamboo raft. The young guy who was poling us down the river spoke no English and my Vietnamese could be best described as, “Um, you know five words, you don’t really speak Vietnamese,” so Juliann, Braeden, and I chatted among ourselves, watched for monkeys, and dipped our feet into the cool water as we cruised down the river.
The ride was beautiful but uneventful and soon we were back on shore. Our guide handed us knit bags full of roughly cut sugar cane and bananas, then led us back across the suspended foot bridge to meet our elephants.
We turned off the foot bridge and the elephants were all waiting for us in a shaded clearing. Their mahouts, or trainers, were also there, paying close attention to make sure we were spared the indignity of an obituary that reads, “Sat on by an elephant, survived by…”
Braeden, Juliann, and I were there with all the elephants, maybe six to eight of them, and at least a half-dozen other tourists. The elephants immediately knew what was in the bags we carried and they sidled up to us, their powerful trunks groping for the bags.
I gripped Braeden tightly by the hand and had my head on a swivel to make sure he didn’t get inadvertently squashed by any of the huge but gentle animals. The mahouts were all over us, however, giving the elephants a shove or a shout when the curious animals got a little too close.
After we got used to the traffic we fished out some sugar cane and bananas and started offering them to the nearest elephant, who eagerly reached out and pulled them from our hands. The speed with which they snarfed down the treats was surprising, as all the footage we’d ever seen of the animals showed them moving slowly and deliberately.
But when it comes to food, those suckers don’t screw around. We each had a bag full of cane and bananas, and we spent a few minutes with each elephant, stroking and talking to them, before we moved on to the next animal. When we came to Tong Po and her months-old baby, Tang Mo, we stopped and spent quite a bit of time. We fed Tong Po until she was no longer interested, then we let Braeden feed cutie Tang Mo until we ran out of food.
Once feeding time was over, it was time to hop on and go for a ride. Braeden rode Tong Po with me, and her mahout came along to make sure B was securely in place on the elephant’s back. Juliann rode atop Tong Po’s mother, who’s name we unfortunately didn’t catch.
The elephants lumbered along through the jungle, up and down steep paths and winding through the trees, while we tried to look like we knew how to hold on. After awhile I discovered that if I pulled up my knees and tucked them behind Tong Po’s ears I could ride pretty comfortably. I also figured out that she enjoyed it when I scratched her ears, so every once in awhile I’d shout some encouragement and give her a little scratch.
Baby Tang Mo came along, too, tied to her mother, and she acted pretty much as any toddler would: first she would scamper ahead, getting distracted by tasty foliage, then lag behind, investigating a tree trunk. She would lay down in her mother’s path to get attention and stay there until the older elephant would give her a shove with her trunk to get the baby moving.
I felt badly for Tong Po. She couldn’t even drink a bottle of wine at the end of a full day of dealing with her kid.
Upon reaching the river the elephants trotted in with gusto, sucking up trunkfuls of water and spraying it all over themselves – and us. Braeden screamed with delight and Tong Po soaked us over and over again. Baby Tang Mo rolled in the water, playing gleefully as we marched across the river.
It took us about 45 minutes to do a loop through the jungle, and when we reached our starting spot we dismounted our elephants and said fond goodbyes. Then we crossed the bridge again for one last experience: bathing with DeeDee.
DeeDee is Tang Mo’s sister, and still a juvenile at 7 years old. We met her on the banks of the river with her mahout, who spoke to us in broken English and had a sparkle in his eye.
Braeden and I were wearing our swim trunks, so we hopped into the river with DeeDee and her mahout. The mahout gave us brushes and exhorted us to give DeeDee a scrub as she dutifully lay down in the river.
Every few minutes the mahout would whistle a command to DeeDee, and she would point her trunk in our direction and blast us with cold river water. Braeden and I scrubbed her belly, being sure to stay clear of her legs so we didn’t get kicked. I gripped him by the elbow tightly the entire time, ready to yank him to safety should the little elephant roll over in his direction.
At the end of the bath we each received kisses from DeeDee and Braeden got to pose for a picture on her back. He beamed with pride at being on the little elephant all by himself, and when the mahout showed him how to dismount by sliding down DeeDee’s trunk, he grinned and did it like a little pro.
We emerged from the river cold, hungry, and tired, but happy. We changed into dry clothes, bid farewell to the wonderful staff at Chai Lai Orchid, and hopped in the back of our songthaew for the long ride home.
By the time we reached Chiang Mai we were ready for dinner, so we grabbed some takeout and headed back to our apartment. After dinner we tucked Braeden in and J and I watched Homeland until we fell asleep.
New Year’s Eve
I’ve never been a big fan of New Year’s Eve. In my twenties I worked in a bar, and NYE was a major pain in the ass. Watching college kids get drunk as hell and act like jackasses was entertaining once, then I never needed to do it again.
In my thirties we tried doing special things for New Year’s: dinner, dancing, parties. But it always ended up being Amateur Hour wherever we went, and we quickly tired of making reservations far in advance and overpaying for the pleasure of a less-than-enjoyable experience.
So lately we’ve just been spending New Year’s Eve with family and doing things that are low key, which has proven both rewarding and fun. This year, of course, it was just the three of us, so we decided to grab some dinner somewhere quiet, then head out for a stroll as the sun went down, before everything got crazy.
We ended up at our (then) favorite restaurant, Cooking Love, a little hole-in-the-wall kitchen with a few tables and a line out the door. The food at Cooking Love is…hold on a second, I’m drooling…it’s unbelievably good. Local food in Thailand in general is outstanding, but Cooking Love is the real deal, for real cheap, with great service.
J and I wrapped up our meal with a couple of glasses of “Thai Whiskey” (actually Sang Som rum…delicious!) while the boy did yet another drawing lesson on YouTube.
[Side note: some time ago Braeden and Juliann discovered drawing lessons for kids on YouTube, most notably Art For Kids Hub, and the boy has been pencil to paper ever since. He’s produced over a hundred sketches, and at times he’ll sit for 3-4 hours drawing. It’s awesome – and adorable – to watch.]
After dinner we slipped past the lengthening line for the restaurant and strolled out into the purple twilight of the Old City. The air was humming with electricity and the narrow, ancient streets were much busier than normal.
Our 2 Weeks in Antibes, France
We turned onto Rachadamnoen Road, where the Sunday Night Market is usually held, and already it was bustling with pedestrians and stalls selling everything imaginable. Braeden saw a woman making tiny raisin donuts, and with round, shining eyes he politely asked if he could have some. We bought a small container and then walked on, holding the boy’s hand as he munched a donut and watched all the passersby.
Juliann turned toward me and the street behind us to say something, then I saw her eyes turn skyward. Her mouth fell open.
“Lanterns,” she murmured, and she pointed. Braeden and I spun around.
The street we were on ran straight through the center of the old city and exited through Tha Phae Gate, a popular gathering place for street entertainers, food sellers, tourists, and the like. Long ago the gate was one of the few entrances to the Old City, which was then surrounded by high stone walls.
The gate today is just two small but beautiful sections of the old stone walls separated by a space of about fifteen feet. As we looked, we could see the walls of the gate at the far end of the street, and rising above the walls were what looked like fireflies.
Lanterns!
We had heard about Yi Peng, Chiang Mai’s famous lantern festival, before our arrival, but we had arrived in Chiang Mai a few days too late and missed it.
Now we saw dozens, scores, maybe hundreds of lanterns rising into the night sky, and our excitement rose. Without a word, we all started moving quickly back the way we came, towards the gate.
Others saw what we did and started back as well, and before we knew it we were part of a flowing crowd surging towards the gate.
We passed through and saw hundreds of people on the promenade. Some were unfolding lanterns, some were lighting them, and some were holding lighted lanterns and waiting for them to drift into the air.
Juliann quickly found a vendor selling lanterns and bought one for $2 US. We borrowed a lighter from a group next to us, lit the wick, and held the lantern patiently. Other tourists walking by would stop and watch, take pictures of us holding the lantern, then hurry off to buy their own.
Occasionally we would have to duck as a nearby group released their lantern too early and it would drift drunkenly into the crowd. A chorus of shouts would go up as we all fended the lantern into the air, and eventually it would take flight and the shouts would turn to cheers.
It took 3-4 minutes, but the lantern finally started to tug at our hands. We held on to it a bit longer, then tentatively let it go. It rose slowly, then accelerated skyward to join the hundreds of others that were rising into the sky above the city.
We hung out in front of the gate for awhile, marveling at the spectacle, then we started making our way home on foot. We stopped at a wat on the way, listening to the music being played out front by a motley crew of locals and we watched the stream of lanterns rising from the courtyard.
We got home late, put the boy to bed, and tucked ourselves in. Popping sounds jarred us awake just as we started to drift off to sleep, and we threw back the curtains to discover that the fireworks had begun over the city. The sky was filled with brightly colored rockets and starbursts among the thousand twinkling lights of the lanterns.
We gave quiet thanks that we were so fortunate to be able to experience such a spectacle, then closed the curtains and fell sound asleep just minutes into 2017.
Wrong Way Waterfall
Chiang Mai is a great place to live because it’s easy to escape the city and get to the outdoors, and we had done precious little of that in our time there. In our final week we called up a taxi driver that we had previously used and booked his time for a trip to one of the area’s most famous waterfalls: the Bua Tong “Sticky Waterfall”.
Bua Tong is sticky because the river feeding it has a heavy limestone concentration, and the limestone has, over thousands of years, built up on the rocks of the falls. Instead of the rocks being slippery, they provide solid footing.
The park was about an hour from the city and when we arrived we were the only people there. We walked through the park to the entrance to the falls, and we took the stairs down to the bottom “level” where we would begin our climb.
It was an overcast day and not particularly warm, so we were pleasantly surprised to find once we stepped into the pool at the bottom of the falls that the water was warm.
The beginning of the climb was easy and the slope gentle, but it got steeper quickly and we had to use the knotted ropes to ascend. Braeden took to the challenge like a champ, and after he figured out that he couldn’t lie flat against the rocks while holding onto the rope or the water would cover him, he had a great time.
The climb itself was only a few hundred feet and it took us about 15 minutes to get to the top, but we had an absolute blast challenging ourselves and getting wet all at the same time. Braeden was beaming when we reached the top and couldn’t stop talking about the climb.
We shook ourselves off and we took a short hike to a sacred spring. The spring was beautiful and quiet, and we watched as worshippers dipped a cup on the end of a long handle into the spring to drink from the waters.
We dried off and headed towards our taxi, who was waiting for us with umbrellas, as rain had just begun to fall.
The rest of our week was relaxing and uneventful. I said goodbye to my new friends at CrossFit Chiang Mai, Juliann did the same for hers at Wild Rose Yoga, and we made sure to eat at our favorite restaurants one more time (Kinjara, our new favorite Thai restaurant, and Salsa Kitchen, one of our favorite Mexican restaurants anywhere.)
We packed our bags, exchanged our remaining Thai baht, and headed to the airport for our next adventure.
Vietnam!