Chang Mai

Bid fond farewell to our island retreat from the dawn ferry to Koh Samui, watching the sun rise as the beach receded. Arrived at the tiny airport in time to transfer to earlier connecting flights, thank you Bangkok airways, which not only offered this without us even requesting it, but then provided food and even hot drinks on each leg to Chang Mai, both under an hour!

And we’d enjoyed a sumptuous free breakfast buffet whilst waiting to board at Koh Samui-we were a mit stuffed on arrival here.

The Eco Resort hostel we’d booked from England is rather odd-tiny motel like rooms around an enormous Olympic style pool, open to non residents, and a very pricey restaurant alongside the dormitories...a weird mix of backpackers and upmarket facilities. 

We’ve got an upstairs private room with its own separate living space and bathroom, rather than being in the main part, because I ended up in tears in reception when we arrived and the staff upgraded us! In my defence, the tears were not just because the allocated room was next to the pool changing area, but because in the dark at 5am I’d finally fallen over the shower step in Koh Phangan and my little toe was excoriating I was in agony.

It’s black and swollen, but strapped up is ok, so no worries, and a nicer room here in exchange for the pain!!

The first evening we staggered-in my case literally-around the night markets/bazaars, eating yet more street food to keep our energy up and gazing at the vast halls and alleys full of goods. Today we’ve explored and got the hang of getting a tuck tuck or a shared open topped ‘taxi’ which you hail in the street, to get around

Paul had his first massage-he and I both treated ourselves to a 30 min back, neck and shoulder indulgence. Compared to Bali, the pressure is the same (ie hard!!) but the Thai technique involves more pulling and stretching-I rekcon my arms left their sockets at one point, and my neck turned full circle………..

We’ve began the foray into the many different markets which dominate Chang Mai, today being Saturday, there is a ‘walking street’ which goes on for miles-it took us hours to wander, peruse, eat ‘ancient’ or ‘antique’ ice creams (we’re thinking it should be ‘traditional’) of assorted flavours –in my case, black bean , which tasted like rum and raison-sticky rice and red beans, and a bag full of  bizarre marshmallow like puffballs in coconut made from steamed tree fibres, washed down with sugarcane juice.

Me  looking up for inspiration in Chinatown market-wearing new dress purchased from a stall somewhere in these massive structures.

Me posing outside the Chinese temple, during a cultural break from shopping!