Enjoying the burbs of Chiang Mai

Sunday, I arrived home from Thailand.  Three days later, I still can't read for any length of time without falling asleep.  Jet lag, you know.  Let's see if I can at least write a short blog post!

It was a short visit, just six days, making the best of what had been planned as a rather different trip.  But it was a highly enjoyable visit, poignant because it may have been the last such visit to the beautiful northern town of Chiang Mai.

Not that I will never visit Chiang Mai again, but that it will never again be the kind of visit I've enjoyed over the past six years.  My nephew Denny and his daughter moved to Chiang Mai in 2017, where Denny accepted a job teaching middle and high school classes at an international school.  They were joined later, after his marriage, by his wife and his retired father.  Visiting Chiang Mai became an annual family event, until interrupted by the pandemic.  This year's visit was my first since Covid's chokehold on travel.  Sadly, it was to be my last.  Denny has decided to return to teaching in California, together with his family.

Any future visit to Chiang Mai will be as a simple tourist -- not as a family guest.  The difference is significant.

Since 2017, I've become familiar with central Chiang Mai.  Every return to the city is fun and this year Denny and I spent part of a day revisiting favorite areas.  Favorite areas shared with any curious tourist who visits the city.

But Denny lives outside the downtown area, southwest of the airport and close to the hills of the Thanon Thong Chai range running north and south west of Chiang Mai.  One day, we drove into the city on his motorbike, following a bewildering route through a maze of small roads, thus avoiding the semi-freeway -- enjoying a much more beautiful drive.  The city is surrounded by pleasant neighborhoods, such as his -- forested with semi-tropical trees and plants -- in many of which live members of the area's large expatriate community.  Spending your days in these neighborhoods is a very different experience from staying in a hotel in the city itself.

My experience with these neighborhoods has derived from two primary sources, both highly enjoyable.  First, riding on the back of Denny's motorbike as we tooled along small streets and roads, both in the valley and up in the hills.  And second, sometimes related to the first, meals at numerous small, local restaurants and cafés.  These eating spots -- aside from the numerous pizza joints -- all served both Western and Thai food.  They were inexpensive (at least by American standards), beautifully designed for both indoor and outdoor dining, and welcoming to locals, expatriates, and any casual tourists who may have been lucky enough to blunder in.

We also had one luxury dinner at a restaurant close to Denny's house -- the Little Glass House -- specializing in French, Italian, and other Mediterranean dishes.  Thailand's restaurant scene is not provincial, not even in the provinces.

A third source of experience with these suburban neighborhoods is the well-marked maze of bike/pedestrian trails, at least near my nephew's house.  Formal bike trails are almost superfluous, because the narrow streets and roads are so lightly trafficked, but they help guide you through some of the most beautiful, forested areas in the neighborhood.  We went out for walks virtually every day I was there.

Why can't I, as a tourist, simply return to this area on my own?  I could, in theory, but I would sorely miss the guidance of my relatives, taking me to the places best worth visiting.  Also, these are not areas where you find hotels, anymore than you expect to find hotels in an American suburban neighborhood.  I was staying in a rental next door to my nephew's house, rented to me by a couple known by Denny.  There was no neon sign in front advertising "Rooms for Rent."

Having gushed over the charms of suburban Chiang Mai, I should emphasize that the Chiang Mai downtown is full of hotels and bed & breakfasts -- everything from youth hostels to luxury hotels.  And you could easily spend many days enjoying the world of historical and modern day Chiang Mai without ever venturing beyond the ancient walls and moat.  

But just be aware that there's a lot more out there in the open countryside.

Lake Como redux -- 2023

As I prepare to depart Thursday for Singapore and Chiang Mai, Thailand, I recall that two weeks ago today, I was prowling around Milan -- sightseeing, photographing, and killing time before my 9 p.m. flight to London.  Writing this, I suspect I sound like quite the jet-setter, although by personality I'm almost the opposite.  It's just that several trips have come together at nearly the same time.

My visit to Italy was the second chapter of a European adventure that began with the hiking trip in Scotland that I discussed two posts ago.  With two of the Scotland crew -- John and Anne (my college friend Jim's brother and sister) -- we flew to Milan, took the train to Milan's Stazione Centrale railway station, and walked a couple of blocks to the hotel we had stayed in exactly a year before.  There we met Ann and Tony -- the wife and husband, respectively, of John and Anne.

We arrived late.  All of us were hungry, and we went out to dinner at an outdoor café a couple of blocks from our hotel -- a dinner begun at 10 p.m., which made me feel quite European and cosmopolitan.  The following day we relaxed in Milan, and then the next morning we took the short (about 45 minutes) train ride to Como Town, on the southern shores of the lake.  If we hadn't felt it before, we now realized that northern Italy was crammed with tourists this year, even at the relatively late date of September 9.  The line for tickets on the lake ferry was endless, but we persevered as we watched the sailing of several boats, finally got our tickets, and boarded a hydroplane about 3 p.m.  We arrived at Menaggio -- half way up the western shore of the lake -- about an hour and a half later.

After two prior years renting the same villa just north of Menaggio, I felt on very familiar ground by this time.  We walked to the bus station and boarded a bus for the ten minute ride to Rezzonico, where our property's manager was waiting for us with big smiles.

As I approached the entrance to our rented villa, I felt the same as I had the year before -- that I had hardly been away at all, let alone an entire year.  Everything looked the same, everything seemed welcoming. The manager realized there was no need to give us more than a cursory tour of the house we knew so well.  She set us up with reservations for dinner at the local pizzeria, and wished us well.

We had only to choose our rooms, move in our bags, kick back our heels, and await the hour for dinner.  The two bottles of complimentary wine in the kitchen's pantry called out to us.

The only real differences between this year and last were (1) the weather -- beautiful the first three days -- changed to clouds and occasional showers for the rest of the week; (2) we missed the presence of Jim and his son Graham, although the house felt a bit roomier with only the five of us; (3) we felt more at home in a well-remembered and beloved town rather than first-time visitors amazed by the magical world in which we found ourselves; and (4) my legs were still suffering from the infirmities that had plagued me in Scotland, limiting the amount of hiking and walking I could do.

Nevertheless, we repeated our ferry visit to Bellagio and Varenna, across the lake, and walked a considerable amount about those towns.  Assisted by a morning dose of Tylenol, I also joined the others in climbing a steep, rough trail from the town to Varenna Castle, feeling a brief flush of late-life manliness, a feeling I had missed for the most part in Scotland.  John and I also repeated last year's visit to the neighboring town to the north, Cremia, and this year pressed on further along a pleasant lakeside trail to the next village of Pianello.  

Less actively, we discovered a new hotel restaurant about a mile from our villa, which also contained a gelateria with some of the best Italian gelati I'd ever sampled.  And that's a high bar.  And we discovered that our opening day piazzeria also served as an excellent source of caffe and croissants in the mornings.  We wound up our week's stay with a final pasta dinner on Friday.

On Saturday, I sadly bid farewell to our group in Menaggio, where they caught the bus back to Como Town, and thence by train to Milan.  Anne and Tony were leaving for home, but John and Ann were heading south to explore Sicily and the Naples area.  I was sad, as I say, but also eager to greet my sister Kathy, brother Philip, and his wife Vicki, whose ferry pulled into Menaggio in mid-afternoon.  We took the bus to Rezzonico, and almost lost our brother when the bus's doors closed and bus began moving while he was still struggling with baggage.  It was a funny scene, although maybe only in retrospect. 

Check-in formalities were repeated, and Philip and Vicki -- their first visit to Lake Como -- began settling in and getting a feel for the area.  A photo from their first day shows Philip already stretched out on a lounge in our patio area, soaking in the sun.

Unfortunately, not a lot of sun soaking was available during this second week.  The occasional showers of the first week became more frequent.  I woke up about 3 a.m. Wednesday to the most dazzling lightning display I'd ever witnessed.  The room was lit non-stop for about a half hour, and the roar of thunder was constant.  We had occasional thunder and lightning throughout the rest of the week, but the rain that fell seemed to dry surprisingly quickly, so we still managed to get out and around quite a bit.

While Philip and Vicki were otherwise engaged, Kathy and I repeated the hike to Pianello that John and I had done the prior week.  Tylenol again came to my rescue and made the hike easy and enjoyable. 

We repeated the visit to Bellagio and Varenna (but not the climb to the Castle), where the crowds were even denser than they had been the week before.  It was a relief to spend the rest of the week in the far more semi-rural atmosphere of our village and its surroundings.  We did make an enjoyable visit (as had the group in the first week) to the Swiss city of Lugano, a beautiful lake-side town a little over an hour's bus ride from Menaggio.  We had a great lunch.  And then were totally drenched during our half hour return to the bus stop for the ride home, but the downpour seemed funny, rather than a disaster.  (We are all former Pacific Northwest residents, after all.)

That same night, we had our celebratory dinner -- as we had with both weeks the prior year -- at the family-run restaurant Lauro in the village.  As always, a wonderful meal in a casual but atmospheric setting.

So, again it was Saturday morning.  Kathy's knee had been acting up, and so we skipped the ferry and took the bus all the way from Rezzonico to the train station in Como Town, and then the train back to Milan.  That night, we had the best meal of either week at the restaurant near the station in which our second week's group had dined in 2022.  The next day, we each headed home, our planes leaving at widely different times.  Mine was the last, leaving at 9 p.m. for London, where I spent the night at the Terminal 5 airport hotel before leaving for Seattle the next morning.

An excellent two weeks.  Will there be a fourth consecutive year at the same Lake Como villa?  When I returned home, I was shocked to see that the first three weeks of September 2024 were already booked, as was the third week of August.  In panic, I plunked down a deposit to reserve the villa for the last week of August. 

So I guess the answer, quite probably, is "yes."

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Photo -- Lake Como displays a different mood during the second week from the sunny, peaceful face it had shown in past years.  But even in a storm, it's a highly attractive locale.

Singapore "Swing"

Barely back from Milan and Lake Como, with my circadian rhythms still somewhat confused, I leave next week for Singapore, and then on to Chiang Mai, Thailand.

I spend only one night in Singapore, between flights, and you might well ask me why I'm taking this circuitous route.  Because of a cooler, more complicated plan that my sister and I originally planned together with my nephew and his wife.  My nephew lives and teaches in Chiang Mai.

The idea was to meet in Singapore, explore it a little (I'd been there a couple of times before, but never for long), and then take the train through Malaysia to Bangkok, stopping along the way to see a bit of Malaysia and, perhaps, sample their beaches.  I'd fly home from Bangkok, and the others would proceed to Chiang Mai.

Unfortunately, for various reasons my sister was unable to make the trip at the last minute, but I already had the nonrefundable airline reservations.  So I'll stay overnight in Singapore, then fly via Bangkok to Chiang Mai.  I'll spend a week in that very attractive and relaxing town, socializing with my nephew, who will be on vacation, and then fly to Bangkok to connect with my previously booked flight home to Seattle.

I'll be gone about ten days, only six of which will be in Chiang Mai.  The rest of my time I'll be flying, cooling my heels in airports, and staying in hotels -- both in Singapore and in Seoul airport's 12-hour-stay, inside-security hotel which exists for the exclusive use of persons in transit.  I'll have a 14-hour stay in Seoul between my flight from Bangkok and my flight to Seattle.

This isn't an itinerary that I ever would have arranged from the outset, but it evolved organically out of unexpected events.  But it will be fun, and the heart of the original plan -- to spend time with my nephew and his family -- remains intact. 

There will be photos, of course.  I'd post of photo of me downing a Singapore Sling at the Raffles bar in Singapore, but the drink is vastly overrated.  I'll stick to gin and tonics.