When a work project unexpectedly evaporates in late June, I suddenly have two weeks cleared, a blank slate. Sitting in my stuffy office, craving adventure, Eben and I spin the roulette wheel of travel exploits: “Kayak Everywhere.” Where in the world can our family of 4 (including a 4- and 11-year-old) go three days from now, from San Francisco International Airport, for under $650 a ticket? A map appears with dollar amounts splashed across the globe. Our options are surprisingly limited, lots of locations in the United States and only three abroad—two in Mexico (places we’ve been before) and Bangkok, Thailand. Eben and I raise our eyebrows at each other. Thailand? Why not? We’ve only heard good things… Click, click, click. Names, passport information, credit card. And CONFIRMED. In less time than it takes to order take-out, we’re booked to Thailand for two weeks of spontaneous adventure. Our next few blog posts dive back into that trip, into the tourmaline bathwater of the Gulf of Thailand, teeming street markets, ancient temples, soaring mountains, delectable food, and of course, the “happy cabins.” From sleeper trains, to villas, hotels and huts, we stumbled into some very happy places, with just the right amount of comfort and cozy to soothe our venturesome souls.
A few hours out of Chiang Mai, up winding roads, through a tropical shower, a statuesque peak juts out from a jagged, bright green, range. The mountain is high enough that the peak is wreathed in moody clouds that shift with the breeze, revealing its shape in pieces. Across a rippling river, the mountain opens its mouth, swallowing orange-robed monks whole. The infamous cave temple of Wat Tham Chiang Dao.
Just down the road from the cave temple lives a handful of happy cabins, strewn across a garden of lush ferns, blooming flowers and gnarled trees. Maybe you’ve heard whispers of it? That’s what happened to us. We were lured to Chiang Dao by whispers of a less-touristy place, a place where Thais go to relax, a soothing place far from the bustle of Thailand’s northern cultural center, Chiang Mai. We had no idea what to expect. Whereas many of our family trips are heavily researched and planned, this one unfolds organically. We book one night at a time and see what happens, planning our next journey the morning of or the night before. Our trip to Chiang Dao follows that same formula. We decide to go that morning, over breakfast along the Ping river, the swiftly moving current beckoning us onward. We say goodbye to our riverside hotel in Chiang Mai, packing our tiny rental car with overstuffed backpacks, market treasures, and dried fruit for snacking.
