Day 6: Day of the Sun

Today’s theme was the sun. We took off to investigate Lop Buri, a two hour train ride north from Bangkok. It’s an ancient town, filled with the ruins caused by waves of various armies and the neglect of time. We were not there to see the ruins.

To get to Lop Buri we got up long before sunrise, at 3:30, for the 4:20 train (settle down stoners). We boarded the train at 4:18. Perfect timing. But why are a bunch of vagabond hostel people awake at 3:30 if they’re not developing alcohol poisoning in the Khao San road? Sunflowers. The area around Lop Buri grows endless fields of sunflowers. Like a Thai parallel to the Skagit Valley tulip fields. One of our troupe is a professional photographer, hunting perfect sunflower images to sell in order to keep going on the road. She had to get there before the sun beat them into an unphotogenic droop.

Monkeys

Turns out, Lop Buri is well known for one thing in addition to sunflowers. After all, what goes better with sunflowers than … monkeys. Right off the train station we see a monkey temple teeming with them. We weren’t looking for it, but we had found the Phra Prang Sam Yot, a Khmer monument given over to the monkeys

After an unexpectedly amazing breakfast featuring some of the best eggs and soup I’ve tasted so far. we set off in search of transport to take us to the fields. Before we find any though, a parade starts. Obviously. Just a day of perfect timing. Some kind of Money festival is beginning with the parade, with folks in monkey masks and battalions of children in their varied school uniforms. Delightful! Once it passes by, we head to check out the monkeys at the temple.

Now, I’ve been warned. Monkeys will steal from you. They’ll jump on your head. They’ll mess you up. It’s not that I disbelieved the warnings, but I thought simply hearing the warning would make me wary enough. Thing is though, those monkeys are fast. Unless you’re actually on guard, they’ll roll you. And so they did, quickly shredding my plastic bag and stealing my peanuts. Buggers had the peanut pack opened and were chomping them down one at a time before I even realized what had happened. Then they went too far. They went after my coffee.

What will not stand. I fought one off, then another. Finally out of range and in ready stance I took stock of the damage. A wet spot all over my left side. Not fatal. Except to my fashionability: I had to wear a rough approximation of the Indian subcontinent in coffee brown on my white shirt for the rest of the day.

Fortunately the sunflowers don’t care about fashion.

Sunflowers

We took a bus out of town and they dropped us alongside some fields in the middle of nowhere. A beautiful nowhere: acres of sunflowers with mountains in the distance. One single temple shining on the mountains. All sizes of sunflowers, everywhere. We spent a couple of hours just taking pictures and being amazed to be alive and seeing all this beauty.

Then the final part of the sun-theme: sun burn. Time to go back.

Temples

Our plan to get back’s core was faith. Faith that if we looked helpless enough and waved spastically enough, a bus would stop for us, regardless of the nonexistence of a stop. We were close: a Song Thaew stopped, and we got on.

It was another great, lucky, experience chatting with some wonderful Thai ladies all the way back — one of whom was short, silver haired woman in white we thought was a nun. Later it was explained that she is “close to being a nun”. Without elaboration. In any event, she had the kind of wise, joyful and full-of-life face it just makes you happy to be around. I wish I’d had the gumption to ask to take her photograph. That’s something I want to work on.

After a few stops a Thai-American woman and her American husband from San Jose embarked. She told us a bit about the history, a bit about the temples, a bit about how we should stock up on goods and bring multiple checked bags back.

Taking her cue, I went to check out the temple next to the train station while the remainder of our group rested legs and skin and tired heads. Inside was a beautiful Bhudda with gold leaf flaking off it. Evidently the devout pay their respects by sticking the gold leaf onto the Buddha image, so all those flakes were put there by the hands of the faithful.

School children were filing past the statue, making offerings and lighting incense. I felt self conscious taking a few pictures given that people were praying solemnly, but I figured children are children and most of them could care less what I did.

All in all a wonderful day. And one full of serendipity and luck.

One final piece of luck: we arrived just in time to take the train back. This is remarkable since we didn’t even know the train schedule and were planning to wait an unknowable amount of time for the minibus to fill up enough to take us back to Bangkok.

Instead 10 minutes later we were on an express back to the capital and desperately needed showers and darkness.