Hey y’all,
After another splendid afternoon at the Once Café, I walked to the Blue Temple in time for sunset.
As the guy at my guesthouse had said, the place was far less crowded. The falling light also made the temple more beautiful. But it still felt like the Disneyland of Buddhist Temples.
On the way back though, magic happened.
Walking in Thailand is an experience of watching where you step. When traveling with Kip, he pointed out the many perils along the way with efficiency.
“Don’t trip here,” he’d say at an unexpected step that could have easily tripped me up if I hadn’t paid attention.
“Broken concrete.”
“Broken glass. Watch your step.”
Although not as shocking as in India, there was always trash, and I even came across a couple of logs of human feces freshly shat right on the sidewalk.
That was a couple of days ago.
So spacing out in my own little world, as I often do on walks, is not a good idea here. Pay attention to my surroundings or fall flat on my face or step in shit.
The Blue Temple was almost 3 kilometers away, on the other side of the river from my guesthouse.
I wouldn’t have noticed this place had it not been dark.
As I approached the stairs to the walking path of the bridge, I heard the clink of dishes and silverware – sure signs of a nearby restaurant – on my right. Through the lush foliage, I saw a tall white building and the glass enclosure of what looked to be an elegant conservatory.
That made me curious. I wandered over and sure enough, it was a restaurant and a bakery.
I walked into something that was straight out of French Colonialism.
This place could have been in New Orleans with the soaring ceilings, soft wood floors, verandas, and columns, and just the way the space was made.
I didn’t expect that in Thailand, but Chiang Rai is so close to the Laos border, it’s definitely possible this area had had French settlers.
This place was a jewel.
Very romantic with seating both inside and outside before the river. With the classical French architecture and the lush growth of the tropical environment that is Thailand, the atmosphere was stunning and romantic and very relaxing.
Of course, there were a lot of couples dining there, and most people I saw were Thai.
I wasn’t super hungry, but there was no way I wasn’t going to have dinner there. The best tables were reserved, but the host sweetly guided me to a place on the lawn near the river.
Dinner was delicious.
Tamarind vermicelli noodles baked in a puff pastry with a small soft-shelled crab on top, I even had wine with that. For dessert, I indulged in a creamy panna cotta with a decadent strawberry sauce, and a honey-mint limeade to drink.
But the food doesn’t matter near so much as I felt dining there.
Nothing brings my soul to life faster than spontaneity.
That is one of the treasures of traveling – especially alone because there’s no negotiating with somebody else. The chances to follow curiosity where it takes me are abundant, and I love it when I’m rewarded with discovery.
But there was something about what happened here. Finding this gorgeous place where I had a gorgeous dinner because I followed my curiosity filled me with so much joy.
I didn’t care that I wasn’t part of a couple. I didn’t mind I wasn’t there with a new travel buddy. The gift for me in that moment was the spirit of celebration in the experience of solitude.