For the first weekend in a while, I stayed local and enjoyed the natural beauty right in my backyard. Instead of the routine overnight bus ride to Bangkok and beyond, I took a leisurely hour and a half motorbike ride with Josh near the Laos border to Tham Sakoen National Park, which we originally passed on our way to the northern most province of Chiang Rai two months ago.
The province of Nan doesn’t draw flocks of tourists because it lacks the razzle dazzle postcard sites and high energy of a Chiang Mai, which insures Nan’s fitting place as one of Thailand’s hidden gems. It’s quietly rural but filled with incredible landscapes symbolic of authentic Southeast Asia. Each motorbike ride in Nan provides the opportunity to stumble upon something unexpectedly awesome. The roads are surrounded by electric lime green rice paddies, thick forests and rolling hills as far as the eye can see, with little wooden shacks sprinkled on top. All you need is a motorbike; the rest is provided.
After frequent stops to enjoy the scenery, Josh and I arrived at Thom Sakoen National Park and marveled at the limestone mountains soaring through the jungle. They reminded me of the limestone structures we saw in the beautiful island of Ko Phi Phi jutting out of the aqua water. On the way to the campsite we spotted a small sign for a cave, so we hopped off the motorbikes and began a steep hike on an unmaintained trail. Soon the immensity of the cave’s mouth caught us by surprise and we excitingly, yet cautiously entered the darkness. Boulders became our stepping stones as we followed the sound of shrieking bats towards the cave’s belly. We stood under the flying rodents’ hectic home and followed their shadowy figures on the cave walls. Then we decided to investigate a ray of light coming from the back of the cave, which entailed passing through bat shit and stalactite tunnels. The light from the cave’s ceiling gleamed through various crooks and crannies as we climbed up to the outside. We explored at a methodical pace in case we encountered any dangerous critters (i.e. snakes, spiders or scorpions), although what ended up scaring me was a small decapitated doll, whose role it seemed was to scare off nosy travelers...
With plenty of daylight left to pitch a tent and gather wood for a campfire, Josh and I settled into the empty campgrounds. The landscape had a land-before-time feel; it was the kind of place you could envision a pterodactyl swooping down from the mountains into the jungle. The night was warm and clear and the innumerable stars illuminated the canopy, making it perfect to abandon the tent and sleep on the ground.
We woke up the following morning with the sunrise and explored a river that ran through the national park. The boulders that rested in the water were similar in size to the ones we encountered in the cave and we jumped from rock to rock until we came to a fork in the river. Josh went left and I went right, although we each ultimately found a waterfall. I was quite satisfied with the serene spot and promptly swam to the falls in the refreshingly cool water. As I air-dried on a boulder in front of the waterfall pool, I observed the jungle downstream and absorbed the tranquility.
The province of Nan doesn’t draw flocks of tourists because it lacks the razzle dazzle postcard sites and high energy of a Chiang Mai, which insures Nan’s fitting place as one of Thailand’s hidden gems. It’s quietly rural but filled with incredible landscapes symbolic of authentic Southeast Asia. Each motorbike ride in Nan provides the opportunity to stumble upon something unexpectedly awesome. The roads are surrounded by electric lime green rice paddies, thick forests and rolling hills as far as the eye can see, with little wooden shacks sprinkled on top. All you need is a motorbike; the rest is provided.
We woke up the following morning with the sunrise and explored a river that ran through the national park. The boulders that rested in the water were similar in size to the ones we encountered in the cave and we jumped from rock to rock until we came to a fork in the river. Josh went left and I went right, although we each ultimately found a waterfall. I was quite satisfied with the serene spot and promptly swam to the falls in the refreshingly cool water. As I air-dried on a boulder in front of the waterfall pool, I observed the jungle downstream and absorbed the tranquility.
