The elephant interaction was only a half day activity so we still had plenty of time to explore Chiang Mai the rest of the day. On our itinerary was a list of wats and a street market to check out. We headed off on a mission to see everything on our list.

As I have said a few times already, by this point in our trip, we were pretty much watted out. Again, no offense to any Buddhists out there, but they all start to blend together unless they have some particularly interesting distinguishing feature so I will just focus on the ones that stood out to us.

Wat Chiang Man: This one might have been my favorite because it was quite old (built around 1297), and it had large stone elephants that gave the appearance of them seeming to emerge from the building. This one also had bright white and rather elaborate dragons with elephantine trunks guarding the bridge to a smaller nearby wat.

Just like the rest of the wats, they all seemed to be built on a complex so there would be lots of other out-buildings and other lesser wats. At one point I had remarked to Scott that it was amazing how many of these buildings there were on the grounds and he replied “Where else are you going to put all the monks? They’re not going to live in the temple. You have to put them in a monkhouse.” The idea of a monkhouse bunkhouse made me laugh.

Wat Phra Singh: This one was interesting because the main wat was all gold, including the elephant statues that were similar to the ones at Wat Chiang Man. Also, there was a cat chilling at the base of the wat, so of course, that made me happy.

Funny story: Most of the temples had gongs outside of the many buildings and most of them had signs indicating that you should not bang on the gong which went largely ignored. Inevitably at each wat there would be some tourist gonging on a gong. Chiang Mai is also a jumping off point for many hippie boho travellers as they work there way around Southeast Asia and there were plenty of dreadlocked, barefooted, grungy 20-somethings to be found walking around in a cloud of body odor, patchouli, and marijuana smoke, loaded down with giant backpacker’s packs on their backs. In other words, they looked and smelled like raft guides. At one point I quipped to Scott that everytime a gong gongs in Thailand, a raft guide is born.

Wat Chedi Luang: This one might be my favorite because it had an asymmetry that gave it character- the top of the tall structure was missing, lost to an earthquake in 1545. It also had stone elephants around the temple. It was impressive because of its height and the grounds were decorated with elaborate colorful fabric lanterns.

We came across a popular and crowded street market as we were working our way from wat to wat, and we strolled through it and found a few snacks. Most notable was the coconut ice cream that was pleasingly served in a coconut half-shell, and little individual serving size lasagnes. I also found a cute little faux leather elephant keychain and some pajama pants, and shockingly, Scott found a fun button-down shirt with a palm tree print. (He very seldom buys clothes and certainly not on a whim!)

The market was fun until it wasn’t, and then it suddenly felt like we were trapped in an impossible labyrinth of pushy people and never ending market- in fact, at one point, I turned to Scott and said that I was pretty sure that the road to hell is lined with Asian street markets. It just stretched on for blocks and there was no order to the flow of foot traffic and no concept of personal space. Finally we somehow successfully completed the maze that seemed to be the street market and emerged from it triumphantly and then hightailed it home for the evening.

The next day’s adventure was a trip up the mountain to Doi Suthep. After a non-Thai breakfast that cost considerably non-Thai prices, we were ready to head that way. We assumed that summoning a Grab or Bolt would be an easy and straightforward way of reaching the popular and famous wat that sat atop this mountain since it was less than 20 km from Chiang Mai. This very much turned out to not be the case, and we ran into our first “common scams in Thailand” that we had learned about prior to our trip. The driver from the app would accept the trip but would then message to say they needed more money because it was so far out of the city. We got as far with one as to be sitting in his car as he was trying to negotiate for more fare. This went on for a bit with several drivers before I had a minor little freakout and demanded we use the “red truck taxis” that were abundant in the area because I like not being a victim of extortion and/or kidnapping. (To which Scott said I have “no sense of adventure.”) We had been hustled several times earlier in the morning by red truck taxi drivers who were trying to solicit business. In fact, Scott had haggled with one earlier but felt like he could get a better price with Grab or Bolt which is why we tried to go that route.

We made our way back to a street corner where many of the red truck taxis were gathered to see what sort of price we could secure for a trip up and back, and had the good fortune of timing our arrival to the taxi rank with a family of three from South Korea that was also haggling out the details of a trip to Doi Suthep. The red truck taxis can fit about eight people and the cost per person is lower the more people are inside it, so we asked the family if they wanted us to join them. They were happy to have us and we quickly made friends during the ride.

The wife/mother was a teacher in South Korea and spoke good enough English that we were able to communicate. We each inquired about the other’s time in Thailand thus far and found out about their occupations (she was an elementary school teacher and had the same elementary school teacher vibes of every American teacher- we quickly discovered that this energy is universal and has no ties or allegiance to any one particular country). We shared information about what part of our respective countries we were from, as well as the weather back home (they were also escaping the cold). She told us that her family’s favorite part of their Thai vacation so far was the cheap massages and they each had gotten one a day during their trip. Scott and I got a kick out of this authentic interaction and the family seemed to as well; in fact, we took selfies along the route with them and had our taxi driver take a group picture of us when we reached Doi Suthep.

Part of the deal that we had reached with our red truck taxi driver was that she would wait for one hour once she dropped us off so we could explore the wat atop Doi Suthep and would then take us back into Chiang Mai. We took a picture of her license plate and made sure we knew where to find her in an hour and set off to climb the famous steps of the temple.

We saw a somewhat homemade looking sign to Doi Suthep and followed the path it was indicating, but we noticed that there weren’t many (and eventually, any) other people on it. For a moment we thought that we might be falling victim to another “common scam in Thailand” where an enterprising con artist has their own entrance to a temple or other point of interest and charges admission, when it turns out that there is actually no admission charge. But we carried on because Scott spied some derelict and somewhat looking abandoned steps in the distance that appeared to go to the temple. We survived the stairs, huffing and puffing our way up the steep ascent, and then all of a sudden we were inside a monastery and saw that we were at a side entrance to the temple. The monk who we surprised did a double take and then gave us a smile and a thumbs up; evidently he approved of our backroads sneak route to the temple.

We went and found the actual ticket booth, bought admission for two and went in to explore Doi Suthep. It was pretty watty. And looked like most of the other wats. There were some Buddhas and lots of gold. Its gimmick just happened to be that it was on top of a mountain. So we went to find the observation deck that we hoped would give us a great view of Chiang Mai down below. And… it was too smoggy to see anything. The city of Chiang Mai was obscured by a thick cloudy haze. So we had to guess what it would have looked like had there not been air pollution. There is a chance that we were seeing the effects of the “burning season” when farmers in the northern part of Thailand burn their fields to prepare the land for the planting of the next crops.

Disappointed by the inability to see anything exciting, we wandered off to see what else lay on the temple grounds. Not seeing anything particularly captivating other than some stray temple dogs, we decided to start our descent, this time opting for the 306 stairs of the Naga Staircase. At the base there was the typical Thai collection of souvenir shops and snack stalls and we each got a coconut smoothie for the return trip. We soon found our South Korean friends and the correct taxi and headed back into Chiang Mai.

After our new friends were dropped off, Scott and I asked to be taken to the nearby Wat Sri Suphan, or the Silver Temple. We paid our admission, read the placards at the entrance, and then went in. I couldn’t tell you what the inside of the Silver Temple looks like because “SILVER BUILDING ONLY MAN INSIDE WOMAN WALK AROUND AND SEE PICTURE ON MOBILE. ONLY MAN BECAUSE MAN IN THAILAND BECOMES MONK. WOMAN DON’T BECOMES MONK ITS FORBIDDEN. THINK YOU FOR YOUR DONATION AND RESPECTATION.” I didn’t bother looking it up on my mobile and sat outside and took pictures of Scott who was cheekily posing with the “Only Men Inside” signs. (His report: “It looked like all the other wats. There was a buddha and pssst… it wasn’t even silver, it was gold.”)¹ We did happen to see a woman trying to go inside the forbidden temple and an apoplectic employee quickly intercept her as he chastened her and explained to her the error of her ways.

We headed back to our hotel. I decided a nap was in order and Scott decided that he wanted to explore more of Chiang Mai. He wandered northeast where we hadn’t ventured yet and first ended up in an area with several clothing stores. He decided to see if any of them carried the “Made in Thailand” Woolly brand merino wool shirts (Amazon) that he wears and specifically picked for travel due to their quick drying properties and their ability to repel odor. No luck. So he continued along and found an art gallery, the local Muay Thai boxing arena, popped into a McDonald’s to see how their prices compared to back home, saw the night bazaar being set up, and then got a lime smoothie. He reported that the lime smoothie made for a rather “puckering experience.” I eventually texted him inquiring as to his whereabouts and he started heading back to Fang Chiang Mai, walking along the canal.

We had decided to try out Tikky Cafe for dinner, based on the recommendation from American travellers that we had met on our first night in Chiang Mai. We chose to walk the 3.5 km there to see more of the city. Along the way we passed a “Women’s Massage Center by Ex-Prisoners” and were perplexed as to what the heck that meant. Massages only for women? Or by women? Women “ex-prisoners” I suppose? So many questions. (Ahh, a quick Google search reveals that it is staffed by women who were formerly incarcerated and received vocational Thai massage training in prison.) We reached the restaurant and sat outside to wait for a table because it was quite crowded (always a good sign).

Dinner was superb. The food was excellent- I had green curry and the rice that came with it was shaped into the form of a teddy bear. It was so cute that I didn’t want to scoop into it to eat it. Scott had pineapple fried rice with cashews, and it came served in an actual pineapple that was cut in half. For dessert we had mango sticky rice for the first time and were immediately hooked. It is a common Southeast Asian dessert and we realized why it is so popular the moment we had our first taste. Too stuffed and exhausted to walk home, we opted for a cab and headed back to Fang Chiang Mai.

Funny story that we will refer to as The Thai Sock Incident: The first day that we had arrived in Chiang Mai, I had sent my laundry out to be done, orchestrated through the hotel front desk. I had asked Scott if he wanted any of his clothes washed and he had reluctantly contributed a pair of shorts and a pair of Darn Tough merino wool socks (Amazon). His reluctance is an important detail here, as is the brand of socks; they cost about $20/pair. Another pertinent detail is that he had strategically only brought two pairs of socks on the trip. So, the laundry came back the next day, all nice and neatly folded. Except that Scott’s socks were missing. He became quite distressed and we went through it all to see if they had somehow gotten folded up with the other clothes. Nope. Scott immediately wanted an APB put out on the socks stat. This was not ok. I messaged the hotel manager to see if he would inquire with the laundry service and have them hunt them down. Somehow Scott was able to fall asleep that night, but he was NOT OK. The next morning as we were headed out on our adventure he went to touch base with the manager to get a sock location progress report. He even showed them a picture much like you would show someone a picture of your dog had it gone missing. The manager said that the laundry service looked but couldn’t find them. Unacceptable Scott said. Tell them to look again. Fast forward to a stressful day. Scott inquires again, and is told that they found one of the socks. Still unacceptable. What on earth is he supposed to do with just one sock? These are $20 socks he tells the manager. The manager scoffs at this and says “how can a pair of socks cost $20?” Scott pulls up an internet link as supporting evidence. Tell them to look harder. Fast forward to that evening. As we are walking down an alley on our way home to the hotel, Scott sees some laundry drying on a clothes line and begins rifling through it, desperately trying to find his socks. I have to tell him to knock it off and get his hands off other people’s laundry. We walk into the hotel, and the front desk worker leaps up as soon as we enter the lobby, triumphantly holding up both socks in their hand. Scott runs to the socks, scoops them up into his arms, cradling them lovingly to his chest and murmuring to them about how much he missed them and that he’ll never let them out of his sight again. Thus bringing a happy ending to the Thai Sock Incident. The next two times I had laundry done I didn’t even bother asking him if he wanted any of his done.