Everything to Do, Nothing to See

The hub of northern Thailand, Chiang Mai is a centre for activity, not a place to look at or to watch.

It's quiet and lacks urban aggression. Locals lounge outside their shops, just waiting. A sprite of a woman floats from the back of her restaurant and notices that I and two English guys, Paul and Scott, have arrived. She brings us menus and floats back. It's a while before we can order.

Later, down a lane dappled by sunlight, a man rolls past on his bicycle at the speed of his afternoon.

The three of us walk to the ends of the old town, see a little of the city outside the walls. Enough to know what the place is about. I realize that I've seen all I want to.

There are the temples, of course. They mark the city like a spoonful of sugar spilled onto a coffee table. But by now I'm templed out.

Temples are South East Asia's response to European castles and churches: one can find them anywhere in the region. Vietnam has temples and ruins and Buddhas scattered up and down the coast. In Cambodia, Phnom Penh boasts the Grand Palace and the Silver Pagoda and, not to be missed, Angkor Wat lies just outside Siem Reap. There's a lot to see.

It is Angkor Wat that finally gets me. Seeing such splendid stonework, and on such a scale, lessens the brightness of all the other lights and I cannot be bothered once I hit Bangkok and its pile of temples.

"It's no good to have the peak in the middle of your trip," says Paul. "You have nothing to look forward to."

So I take my travel guide's advice and look into the activities in and around Chiang Mai. It tells me that there are any number of day trips outside the town and many courses available to give me a taste of Thai culture.

Paul and Scott find a trip out to a national park. Doi Inthanon sports a number of waterfalls, a hilltribe village and "the highest spot in Thailand", 2565 metres up. The tour company will drive us there and back, take us to the various sights and provide lunch. I say yes.

The choice is a good one. Our tour guide lets us see the sights at our own pace, doesn't hold our hand. At the falls, water crashes from a great height, wets the stones under our feet. When we get closer, it mists our clothes and camera lenses. The Karen hilltribe, in their village of basic huts, weaves gorgeous silks and serves locally-produced coffee, dark and smooth.

"The highest spot in Thailand" is the only mild disappointment, providing no view to the bottom, but we get some amusement. The souvenir shop sells bottles of oxygen to combat altittude sickness. Sniggering ensues, which we try to suppress with so many Thais around wearing scarves and mittens and toques.

Over the next couple of nights, I hit Chiang Mai's night bazaar. Blankets, pillow cases, place mats, scarves and shawls: all can be found in the stalls, beautiful examples of Thai craftsmanship. Not normally a shopper, my wallet empties rather quickly then.

The last full day is a cooking class. I learn how to cook traditional dishes like phad thai and green curry. The teacher demonstrates each recipe, warning us not to burn the garlic all the while, and takes us to the market to see the ingredients she uses. I finally see galangal in the flesh and learn that it is similar to ginger.

I head to Pai the next day - Paul and Scott have already departed for Laos - but sit down to breakfast first. As I sip my coffee, a Swiss woman says hello and confirms my suspicions about this city.

"I went for a hilltribe trek and, yesterday, I did a cooking class. Today, I start a 2-day foot massage course," she says.

She has been in Chiang Mai a week already and still isn't bored. Hiking, visiting hiltribes and taking courses - this woman spends her time doing a lot but not seeing much of the city itself.

Over four days here, I have done the same. There is everything to do and nothing to see.