Since I left the Islands I have been hanging out in the coffee shops and markets of Chiang Mai, gazing over the rice paddy fields of Pai and hiding out from bizarre half naked Chinese men, toting carrier bags full crisps in Chiang Rai.
I arrived late into the Northern City and despite only seeing nothing more than a few dimly lit backstreets, I instantly fell in love with Chiang Mai. For reasons I cannot explain the place just made me smile. And, I mean really smile when you’re whole body seems to exhale.
My days here have been spent wandering the back streets and temples on offer, with very little agenda but to drift. This is place where it’s not unusual to see Monks on motorbikes looking oh so cool, Ray Bans on, mobile phone in hand.
Seriously, I love this place. I cannot tell you how much. And I cannot tell you why. It’s a city, but it feels cosy; blanketed by the surrounding mountains and the protective arm of an ancient city wall.
After indulging myself in an air conditioned café this morning, to get out of the 40 degree heat, I managed to stumble across a local market where nearby local tribes people come to sell their handicrafts. There is all manor of imported bits and pieces from across the neighbouring boarders of Myanmar and China. It drags up memories lost of something that feels like home.
As I stood there surveying the collection of prayer wheels, ornamental Buddha statues, singing prayer bowls, meditation gongs and vibrant prayer flags, I am transported to last time I was in Asia two years previously that inevitably inspired this trip and it makes me ache.
To date, I can’t help feeling like I haven’t found what I’m looking for on this trip. But, without knowing specifically what that is it’s hard to know where you might find it. It’s true that I long to be amongst the Himalayas again, but also know that the incredible experience I had last time could never be replaced and therefore no attempt should be made to recreate it.
Besides, this ‘journey’ is not about sight seeing. I’m not interesting in striking through item after item on a must see list. Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop me questioning if I’m in the right place sometimes though. And it prevents me from being present in the moment I’m always too busy pondering where to go next. It’s a nice problem to have, but one that usually leaves me locked in indecision, frozen like a rabbit in the headlights simply afraid of making the wrong choice. It doesn’t help when all the 20 something gap years are all tramping the same well-worn routes like sheep boasting about their conquests on the Southern Islands and bleating about going tubing in VangVien. Ok so you might not want to get tanked, riding an inflatable in the Thames but I have to confess I don’t really see the appeal. Sorry, but if all you want to do is get wasted on foreign shores you’d be better off to save your parents money and pop to the local pub. This is not a cultural experience unless you count sleeping with a ladyboy.
As you can probably tell, I am beginning to sound a little jaded but with all my being I just want a different kind of experience. Not one that is listed in the Lonely Planet. In fact, I would like to burn my Lonely Planet.
The challenge is, where to find this ‘different’ experience?
I know my anxiety is just the planner in me trying to organize things, trying to provide structure, trying to create some kind of itinerary and with it a purpose. What I need to remember though is that the actual purpose of this trip is to have NO purpose. To let go and put my faith in something greater than myself, that maybe is better placed to decide what is best for me. Because there are times when I sure as hell don’t know.
Chiang Mai teases me though. Here, I feel happy, genuinely happy for the first time in a while. Here, a little piece of my soul surrenders. I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere I have felt so relaxed and at home. And that is a rare and precious thing. I cannot express how much I love this city. I want to carve it up into teeny, tiny little pieces and eat it all up. I don’t think I’ve ever felt cannibalistic about a place before.
I arrived late into the Northern City and despite only seeing nothing more than a few dimly lit backstreets, I instantly fell in love with Chiang Mai. For reasons I cannot explain the place just made me smile. And, I mean really smile when you’re whole body seems to exhale.
My days here have been spent wandering the back streets and temples on offer, with very little agenda but to drift. This is place where it’s not unusual to see Monks on motorbikes looking oh so cool, Ray Bans on, mobile phone in hand.
Seriously, I love this place. I cannot tell you how much. And I cannot tell you why. It’s a city, but it feels cosy; blanketed by the surrounding mountains and the protective arm of an ancient city wall.
After indulging myself in an air conditioned café this morning, to get out of the 40 degree heat, I managed to stumble across a local market where nearby local tribes people come to sell their handicrafts. There is all manor of imported bits and pieces from across the neighbouring boarders of Myanmar and China. It drags up memories lost of something that feels like home.
As I stood there surveying the collection of prayer wheels, ornamental Buddha statues, singing prayer bowls, meditation gongs and vibrant prayer flags, I am transported to last time I was in Asia two years previously that inevitably inspired this trip and it makes me ache.
To date, I can’t help feeling like I haven’t found what I’m looking for on this trip. But, without knowing specifically what that is it’s hard to know where you might find it. It’s true that I long to be amongst the Himalayas again, but also know that the incredible experience I had last time could never be replaced and therefore no attempt should be made to recreate it.
Besides, this ‘journey’ is not about sight seeing. I’m not interesting in striking through item after item on a must see list. Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop me questioning if I’m in the right place sometimes though. And it prevents me from being present in the moment I’m always too busy pondering where to go next. It’s a nice problem to have, but one that usually leaves me locked in indecision, frozen like a rabbit in the headlights simply afraid of making the wrong choice. It doesn’t help when all the 20 something gap years are all tramping the same well-worn routes like sheep boasting about their conquests on the Southern Islands and bleating about going tubing in VangVien. Ok so you might not want to get tanked, riding an inflatable in the Thames but I have to confess I don’t really see the appeal. Sorry, but if all you want to do is get wasted on foreign shores you’d be better off to save your parents money and pop to the local pub. This is not a cultural experience unless you count sleeping with a ladyboy.
As you can probably tell, I am beginning to sound a little jaded but with all my being I just want a different kind of experience. Not one that is listed in the Lonely Planet. In fact, I would like to burn my Lonely Planet.
The challenge is, where to find this ‘different’ experience?
I know my anxiety is just the planner in me trying to organize things, trying to provide structure, trying to create some kind of itinerary and with it a purpose. What I need to remember though is that the actual purpose of this trip is to have NO purpose. To let go and put my faith in something greater than myself, that maybe is better placed to decide what is best for me. Because there are times when I sure as hell don’t know.
Chiang Mai teases me though. Here, I feel happy, genuinely happy for the first time in a while. Here, a little piece of my soul surrenders. I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere I have felt so relaxed and at home. And that is a rare and precious thing. I cannot express how much I love this city. I want to carve it up into teeny, tiny little pieces and eat it all up. I don’t think I’ve ever felt cannibalistic about a place before.
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