We woke up this morning at 6am. 6am I say!!! After four days here we’re waking up at the correct local time. We wandered down to the restaurant and had the Thai breakfast to which I’ve alluded. Call me old mister fussy, but I think I’ll stick to coffee, toast, and maybe the occasional curry.

We had a plan today. We were going to Phimai an hour or so away. I was excited. Phimai was the ruins of an outpost of the Khmer Kingdom, nearly a thousand years old. I couldn’t remember if I visited it in 1993, but the name stuck in my mind. At any rate, as opposed to my previous journeys, Dalma and I were going to visit it in that most regal and exciting modes of transport: motorcycle.

At about 9am we set off. There were two ways there: shooting down route 2 or the backroads of route 226. We chose the backroads. It was slightly slower, but the highway was straight and boring. It was a good decision. We cut off through the bacnagas.jpg

kstreets of Khorat until we joined 226 which turned out to be a somewhat bouncy two-lane highway. We rode alternately through small towns and countryside, eventually turning off to single-lane concrete roads through small villages and rural vistas. It was charming.

Eventually we arrived at Phimai, or to give it its full and grand title, Phimai Historical Park. This eleventh-century mini-replica of Ankhor Wat dates from the time of the Khmer Empire. This empire lasted five hundred years from the early 9th century and at is height occupied most of what we now call Cambodia, Laos and Thailand. Ankhor Wat is touted as its great achievement, but I think the establishment of the world’s first healthcare system, with 102 teaching hospitals based on Indian Ayurvedic and local practices eclipse this.

Anyway, before my bolshie background rears too much of its head, let’s get back to our heroes, in Phimai with its temples, palaces, places of religious ritual and significance, and ancient reservoirs, all available for our clambering. I sat for a while in one of the inner sanctums with a statue of a Buddha. A series of monks wandered through, each with a smile and a hello. Eventually, Dalma appeared and we continued to wander around this hypnotic structure. Photos don’t do it justice, but here are some anyway.

Phimai

We whiled away a happy hour and then headed back to the bikes and launched ourselves homeward. We went back along Route 2 which was fast and only interrupted by roadworks which slowed us down for a couple of minutes.

Afternoons are the leisurely part of the day when travelling. You do most of your hardcore sightseeing in the morning when it’s cooler and you’re more alert. But the afternoons are reserved for strolling, the occasional beverage, and lazy chatting between you and your travelling companion. In this tradition, Dalma went off to have a massage whereas I had an excellent light lunch at the Romyen Garden. We then went out to see Khorat. I was keen to see if I remembered any part of it from my previous travels and a couple of vague memories caressed my brain. I remembered the gate. I think I passed the site of the Restaurant of the Dancing Granny.[1] But most of it was a blank. We passed a series of singing groups on raised platforms, but to what end, we didn’t know. We passed a series of lurid and colourful snake statues. We passed a statue of Lady Mo, a local heroine who’s credited with rallying locals and saving Khorat from an 1826 invasion by Laos. But it was Sunday afternoon in Khorat and nothing much was open, so we wandered back to the hotel.

Lions
Lady Mo.

There are several night markets in Khorat. Dalma loves night markets, so we decided to see one. The main market, named Save One was six kilometres away, so we decided to walk to another, on the other side of the city, a mere kilometre away. It ended up being a longish street shut down for the night and filled with dozens of stalls selling food and clothing. We spent a happy hour there, trying foods we didn’t know and watching the happy, smiling Khoratians chatting and laughing with friends. You’re always an outsider as a traveller. Thai customs are confusing and people looked at us kindly, but as ousiders, but we still wanted a bit of what we saw there.

One of those baffling Thai customs made this very clear on our walk home. One of the streets had several bars and we decided to stop for a nightcap. There were a group of provocatively dressed young Thai woman in very high heels, who stood up as we entered, and guided us to a table. They looked very confused at the inclusion of Dalma, but we ordered drinks and some snacks anyway. Eventually, they went and sat down again and left us with a normally-dressed waitress who saw to our needs. Eventually some young Thai men arrived and the young girls sat down with them to chat and laugh. Ah. This seemed to be their job. When our snacks arrived, they included, among the offerings, century eggs, which we’d never had before. New experiences! (Though I don’t think I’ll repeat this particular one).

Century Eggs

So we ended our day with a leisurely stroll back to the welcoming arms of the Romyen Garden and its luxurious beds. We’d be setting off tomorrow, with new adventures to recount.

1. This was a restaurant I’d visited in 1993, which had been run by a youngish Thai woman and her aged relative. There was a jukebox in the corner, and we had a handful of single-baht coins, which we randomly fed in, prompting the grandmother to begin to dance and insist that my girlfriend at the time and I join her.