Sukhothai - Religious Enlightenment

Back to School

Now I've thought long and hard about this and I am sorry to say, oh patient reader, that I really can't find a way around it. Therefore, it is with much trepidation that I begin this post with a brief history lesson. Now don't immediately skip the next couple of paragraphs, this stuff is important I assure you. I promise I won't put in too many dates and names so sit tight and it'll all be over before you know it.
So, before Thailand was Thailand it was known as Siam, until 1939 when it officially changed it's English name. Before that it was a collection of city states centering around a localised power and before that it was simply a collection of regional empires. Now the era we're interested in is the 13th century when the regional empires were declining and the city states were coming into full force.
After the Lanna kingdom centred around Chiang Mai (more on this later) the rising star of Thailand was Sukhothai. Encompassing most of northern Thailand, some of northern Laos and parts of southern Burma Sukhothai, meaning "Rising of Happiness" is considered to be the first true Thai kingdom and marked a new period of cultural awakening. Ayuthaya, just north of Bangkok, rose to power and absorbed the Sukhothai state. It acted as the capital when Siam first opened up to western trade, until it was flattened in a Burmese invasion.
Today Sukhothai and Ayuthaya are among the most popular tourist sites in Thailand. Both ruined cities boast beautiful temple complexes and a hushed and still atmosphere of awe reminiscent of the power of a bygone age.
On our slightly swift tour of northern Thailand however Theo and I ignored all this potent historic significance and did what any discerning traveller would do when facing a difficult choice. We googled it and went with the prettiest.

Rising of Happiness

It was a beautiful day when we set out for Sukhothai, only an hours bus ride from Phitsanulok. Equal parts sun and cloud the odd rainstorm broke the heat. The first thing that struck us on arrival was the quiet. For a major tourist attraction it was dead. We were dropped off by the eastern entrance of the old city wall that surrounds the ruined temples and the only people in sight were the owners of the numerous food stalls and a friendly man from the bike shop who immediately pounced on us brandishing a map.
He told us we needed to head north to get tickets from the information kiosk. He also recommended we rent two of his bicycles because it was quite far. Yeah, yeah, yeah, we thought, sure it is. We're too street smart and wise to fall for that scam. We headed north, down quiet grass-lined paths, through the section of the north wall, past a vast lake and a herd of cows. We were hot and cranky and sticky after a good fifteen minutes of walking when we conceeded that yes it was far, and perhaps bikes would have been a good idea.
Our minds were made up when we eventually found the information centre. We wandered past several empty rooms and a strange series of covered porches before we found a woman, sat with her feet up, and an enormous map. She told us, in broken English, that we couldn't buy tickets there, we would need to go to the west side of the wall.
So the cunning bicycle man won in the end. With a grin he welcomed us back and ushered us over to the desk where could sign our names and pay our baht. When we were done we were presented with our bikes. What could make a scenic bike ride around ruined ancient temples better than old-fashioned style his and hers bicycles? With Theo on blue and me elegantly mounted (after a minor shorts ripping incident) on pink we set off.

Wat Saphan Hin - Sukhothai

We meandered peacefully through long silent halls of pillars and half-ruined walls of stone. Faceless Buddhas raised their weather-beaten palms in salutation. Dilapidated wats sat in the centre of mirror like ponds and only a few people trundled here and there, their voices lost in the wide openness of it all.
Leaving the complex we cycles north on a somewhat circuitous route (Theo lost the map, he maintains I lost the map, don't listen to him it's all lies) and found the "Big Buddha". Caught in a rainstorm we grumbled that this Buddha better live up to his title or we would be extremely displeased. We were not disappointed. Boy was that Buddha big. Crammed in between rising stone walls he sits in the classic position, one hand resting in his lap, the other with long, elegant fingers draped over his knee to the floor.

Phra Achana, Wat Si Chum - Sukhothai

The size of some of the Buddhas we've seen is a testament to the force of the devotion prevalent in this country. It is unfathomable how they moved them let alone devised the making of them. We've seen vast gilt wats, quiet functional wats and ruined wats. All have been totally different; a different atmosphere and a different purpose. I've seen people make their daily offering to Buddha, a bus driver offered up prayers while he waited for his passengers, flowers and food and gifts of every kind adorn shrines in every possible location. One thing we've learnt since we've been here, this country is serious about its religion.

Phitsanulok - Just Passing Through

The Long and Winding Road

As my narrative reaches the first part of our overland journey let me tell you a little bit about Thai transport. For us wealthy westerners second class train journeys are very pleasant. The carriages have air-con, the seats are padded and fold back and have convenient tables and a smartly dressed lady marches up and down the aisle bringing you food and drink. The buses, for the most part, aren't much worse. The whole thing has air-con and often tinted windows and the seats lie back and have nifty cup holders.
Inner city travel is just as exclusive, plush air-conned taxis are available or of course the infamous tuk-tuk. These are three wheeled vehicles with a driver seat in the middle and the front and one or two two-seater benches in the back, complete with canopy and fairy lights.
For the local Thai, who could earn anything up from the minimum wage of six pounds (ish) a day, the aforementioned standard of travel is just too expensive. Third class trains look more like the local trains you see in cities at home, with long bench seats facing each other in fours. They are often padded, but some are just simple wood and you tend to get stuck to the padded ones anyway. There is no air-con so all the windows and the doors separating the carriages (the walkway is a narrow metal bridge with a rail) are thrown open. It's very pleasant to go rushing along with the scenery gliding past, but the noise of the train is deafening. There is no smart lady with drinks here but every few stops (and there are thousands!) a new lady gets on with a wide wicker hat and a huge banana leaf lined basket of goodies or an ice bucket of drinks. The buses are much the same, they fly past with every seat occupied and the windows and door wide open. Passengers loll about, bouncing up and down on the seats, buffeted by the breeze.
For longer distance road travel it is not uncommon to see a large pickup truck, with high metal bars all around the back, crammed full with fifteen or so windswept people standing in the back. Some of these with seats are used to take children home from school, with a runner at the back for the excess boys to stand on.
Within towns the locals use, as everyone who has even seen a picture of Thailand knows, the motorbike. But when they're not dicing with death in the frantic roads (old and young alike) they use sorng taa-ous. These are a distant cousin of the tuk-tuk, converted from small pickup trucks they still have the cab up front but have a covered, two benched passenger section in the back. They shoot around town picking up and dropping off as many people as they can in no logical order.

All Aboard

So, there we were at Hua Lumphong station, ready for our first ever Thai train journey. The station was a great place to people watch. All walks of life, westerners, monks, poor people, rich people, fruit sellers and officials, they all converged on the platforms, waiting for trains.
A monk came up and tried to sell me some Jason Statham DVDs, but the man behind me turned around and warned me off. "Monk no good," he said, "monk bad." There's another ex-fan, disappointed by Transporter 3.
The most incredible thing to watch was the workers at the station washing the trains. While they were still pulling in to the platforms they swarmed all over them like ants, changing destination placards, mopping the sides and jumping on and off to clean inside.
On board Theo was bitterly disappointed not to be travelling third class, that was, until they brought out the free food. The only real incident of note on our eight hour journey was my first encounter with a squat toilet. Outside the air-conned carriage it was needless to say a little fruity when I found it, a couple of hours in. The hole that leads on to the track is disconcerting to say the least. It was not altogether an enjoyable experience. My advice is, do it or don't. Man up and wade in or forget it. To go in half arsed (excuse the pun) especially on a moving train is a fatal error and a failure to adopt the correct full squatting position is disastrous. There that's all I'll say, lets move on.

Just Passing Through

We arrived in Phitsanulok, about 250 miles north of Bangkok, late which, as we would discover, is fairly standard. Phitsanulok is a fairly uninteresting town, destroyed by fire in the fifties and rebuilt with little flair its only draw was that it lay nicely in out path to the historic town of Sukhothai. More on that later.
In the late afternoon Phitsanulok, about 250 miles north of Bangkok, felt quiet and suburban. The streets are lined with school children playing games and adults of all ages jogging or working out on the road side gym equipment on "Healthy Street". We passed a circle of old men playing one of the most athletic games of haki-sack I have ever seen. The trees were alive in the dusk with the sound of flocks of birds.
Late in the evening Phitsanulok feels like an entirely different place. There were motorbikes absolutely everywhere, weaving in and out between the huge 4x4s that seem to be this country's car of choice. Everything seemed alight and buzzing and the pulsating heart of all this activity are the night bazaar and the market.
We of course made straight for the night market, which specialises in food. Walking up and down the rows of stalls we bought a little of everything that looked good. We had grilled corn on the cob, chicken skewers, strange crispy pancakes with something like melted marshmallow in the middle, soft pancakes containing Thai custard (like normal custard but bright green) and more Pad Thai. One stall laid out pic 'n' mix sushi while another sole deep fried insects.
The food almost improved on what we had in Bangkok, the same delicious flavours, but  more authentic, not jazzed up or cooled down for the tourists. That, and the peaceful functional temples that serve as the towns main tourist attractions are what make this town ever so slightly more than somewhere that was just on our way.