July 21—Sukhothai: Adding Insult to Injury

Dear Family and Friends,

Saturday, June 21, Day 68, marks (hopefully) the worst day of our trip. Up at 7 AM, we were out the door by 8:15 AM, headed to the bus station to journey to a town called Sukhothai, where the ancient ruins of the ‘Golden Age of Thailand’ (from the 12th to 14th century Sukhothai Period) are located. The map of Phitsanulok that we received from the TAT said ‘Not to Scale’ and it was not kidding. The distance through downtown and eventually to the bus station was much farther than we anticipated or we would have taken a tuk-tuk instead of walking the entire distance.

We missed catching the 9 AM bus that we’d hope to be on, but made the 9:50 AM bus for 55 baht each with plenty of time to stop for iced coffee, crackers, and some fresh pineapple chunks. The air conditioning on the bus was welcome relief from our hot morning hike. Our attention was pulled during the hour drive between the action-packed martial-arts movie on the television screen (Thai special police hunted down escaped convicts with super powers … one was bullet proof but many were seemingly impossible to catch) and the scenery out the window showing everyday Thai life in towns and in the rural parts with its open rice fields and mountainscapes. Again, the homes themselves contrasted with each other: some were plain wooden-walled homes on stilts; others were more elaborate concrete dwellings; others were new condominium-style apartments above shops.

We arrived in New Sukhothai by 11 AM and took a 40-baht tuk-tuk ride to Garden House about 1.5 kilometers from the bus station. We rented an adorable free-standing bungalow with two beds, a fan, Western-style toilet, hot water, and two chairs with a table outside on a balcony; all this for just 250 baht (8.50 USD).

We got a bit settled, stowing our things, while Martha worked to talk Dani into renting a motorbike for the day. Old Sukhothai, where the ruins are located, is spread over about a five-kilometer-squared stretch of land. We could rent bicycles to get around the park, but it was already getting late in the day, and Martha thought it would be fun and pretty cost-effective to rent the motorbike instead of finding transport for two to the park, from the park, and around the park.

She was wrong. Sure, renting a motorbike until 9 PM would cost us only 150 baht (about 5 USD) plus some gas money. However, smashing the motorbike into a wall costs quite a bit more, as Martha quickly learned. She’d not ridden a motorbike before, and it’s a lot more powerful than she imagined. Plus, her karma kicked in as she lied to the woman renting the motorbike by telling her that, yes, she had ridden one before. There are eight-year-olds cruising around this country on these bikes, how hard can it be?

The pregnant woman who owned the store slowly pushed one of the lesser-used bikes from a back storage room for us, and had just given Martha a quick lesson on where the clutch and brakes were located, oh, and had mentioned that the front tire needed air and the bike needed gas … when Martha (with helmet on, yes) vroomed the engine, tried to turn unsuccessfully, missed the hand brake, and pummeled the bike into the wall across the narrow alley, busting the front wheel, a mirror, and the paneling along the side of the bike.

And, as you might imagine, she also bruised herself on her leg (don't worry, Mom, this photo is from several days later as it was healing ... and I really am fine) and on her pride quite effectively. Dani did all she could not to add in the ‘I told you so,’ but still slid a bit of a ‘I knew we shouldn’t have done this' in before she could catch herself. The pregnant woman she showed great concern for Martha’s well-being as opposed to the well-being of her property. Martha felt awful, apologizing profusely and requesting that the woman find out how much it would cost to fix the bike by the end of the day so that we could make amends appropriately in that way. “Please, keep the 150 baht that I paid for the rental as a down payment." The woman said that she would look into the repair costs, and encouraged us to not worry about anything and to enjoy our visit to Old Sukhothai.

On the verge of tears and pretty banged up despite her stoicism in front of the pregnant inn-keeper, our wandering duo slinked out of the hotel lobby and got on the back of the Old City bus that sat for many minutes before taking us to the ruins—just enough time for events to sink in and Martha to let go of some tears. Dani tried to comfort Martha by reminding her how lucky we were not to have both been on the bike or for her to have hit a vehicle in traffic, but she is not one to be comforted in these situations. Eventually, the bus took off and, for 40 baht total, we arrived within a half hour to the outskirts of the Old Sukhothai nation’s remains.

It was well past 1 PM by now, and Dani insisted that we have some lunch before entering the city walls (she was still concerned for the injuries Martha had sustained, although both were positive nothing was broken). For a total of 140 baht at the Thai/European Café, Dani had fish cakes and a mango shake; Martha found comfort in a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato and a coconut shake. But she still ended up crying at the table before hiding in the bathroom for a short while.

While Martha was hiding, Dani got her a bag of ice to put on her hurt hip and calf, and our traveling team took a break by Wat Mai, where Martha found more tears and the ice to be helpful in finding her center again. (Did we mention that the dogs the night before had kept us from a good night’s sleep, as well?) She also decided that walking would probably be best to help the muscles heal as quickly as possible.

We decided not to rent bicycles to explore the vast park, but instead just to focus on the central section of the ruins and slowly walk, taking as much time as we wanted to take in the architecture and feel of an ancient city like none either of us have witnessed in our lives. About a kilometer to the entrance, we paid 40 baht each to enter this section of the Old City

and enjoy Wat Mahathat as our first stop. Ancient Wat Mahathat was indescribably vast; numerous Buddha decorate these ruins with serene, blissed-out faces indicative of the views and artistry of the time. Two large standing Buddha flanking a central chedi with devotee-sculptures around the base and smaller Buddha statues on each of the four sides; separate stupa and other chedi all contained small or large Buddha; pillars of a former ‘hallway’ marked the grand central arena of the complex; and a white Buddha (under renovation) presided over the outside-of-the-hallway area. Brick walkways allowed for easy navigation among the old structures, and most of the building blocks were red brick, as well. Two lakes lay along the side of the main area of worship, and we were both impressed with how much of these structures remain in-tact six- to eight-centuries later.

From Wat Mahathat, we crossed a bridge above one of the four ponds surrounding the temple grounds and encountered two men interviewing guests to the Sukhothai National Historic Park from a marketing perspective. As we approached, Dani told Martha that she didn’t care if she felt like talking with them or not, that Dani would do most of the talking and that it would be a nice distraction from her guilt for a few moments. Dani was right, of course, and it was welcome respite to talk with the guys about what interested us most about our visit: why we hadn’t visited the Sukhothai National Museum on the grounds (because we’d learned some about the period at the Bangkok National Museum and had limited time to explore), and that we would be interested in photos or models depicting how the ruins used to look during their heyday, but that folks might not want to see them if they are all housed four kilometers away from the main site. Communication was easy as the gentleman we spoke with knew some English and otherwise had English flash cards with different “A, B, or C” answer options.

We continued to explore the grounds for a couple of hours, walking around the beautiful lakes surrounding Wat Trapang Ngoen and peeking inside the towering Wat Si Sawai (where we learned that these towering chedis are actually hollow inside). As our paths followed those of Thais long gone, their spirits whispered to Martha that it was all going to be fine, and she began to feel better about the error of the day. By the time we circled back around to take some video at Wat Mahathat and then to visit the grandly decorated statue of the God-King Ran Khamhaeng by way of Wat Chanasongkhram, our duo was finally getting closer to normal. Dani picked up a couple of her favorite white and yellow flowers from the ground, putting one in Martha’s hat to cheer her. We snapped loads of photos to capture the wonderous views of this, the first such collection of ancient-civilization ruins of this scale that either of us has ever explored.


After we crossed the bridge to view the gorgeous Buddha ‘descending from Heaven’ sculpture and the monuments of Wat Sa Si, we passed a tour group, took a photo for a couple from England, and sat down for a minute. The flower fell from Martha’s hat. Reaching down to pick it up and replace it, Dani’s tongue, tired from a poor night’s sleep and the long, tiresome day, spoke without her brain: “If I have to look at you, at least make it pretty.” On any other day, a hilarious statement. Today, however, Martha bawled in her already sensitive state. Dani felt horribly. Insult was added to injury.

We walked the grounds for just a short while longer before its close at 5PM, stopping to photo the lotus flowers in one of the ponds and to look through the bazaar outside the gates to distract our minds before we caught the bus back to New Sukhothai. It was close to 6 PM by the time we arrived at the Garden House, and it was time to face the music. We asked to see the wonderful pregnant proprietor, and she soon appeared. How much would this debotchery cost us? Martha had been preparing Dani that we might lose thousands on baht on her mistake. However, in a land that actually routinely fixes things instead of throwing them away as is too common in American society, the damage was incredibly less than what we thought it would be: just 750 baht. Whether this was the actual price to fix anything more than the wheel damage, we are not sure, because the lady would not give us details, but assured us that this would cover everything. We paid the fee, told her that we thought she would be a wonderful mother, apologized profusely once again, and headed back to the bungalow.

Martha was done for the day and went to bed without dinner, consumed by guilt for having lied and damaged the property of the Garden House. Dani, well into Deuteronomy at this point, headed out the door to sit by the river reading for a while, attempting to find calm. Too tired really to concentrate, she wandered into the night market to find some yummy veggies with glass noodles (50 baht) and an awesome, sweet lemon shake (20 baht) for dinner. She listened to two guys—one Japanese, one German—discuss in English the lifestyles of the two countries and helped the Japanese guy explain to the waitress that he was allergic to tomatoes. After dinner, she took a walk, crossing paths with a guy who was begging near some Thai ladies sitting at a fruit juice stall on the sidewalk. Dani rushed to a fruit stand to get a couple of apples to give to the man, thereby supporting the fruit seller and the hungry man at the same time. The lady at the stand was slow with the change, and the beggar was gone by the time Dani turned around. She returned to the bungalow by way of the main desk to pay for the room, pick up a few items of laundry that needed a proper cleaning, and thank the patron profusely once again. On her way back to the room she almost stepped on a frog, but managed not to yelp a girly scream in the serenity of the night air. We eventually fell asleep (Martha on her left side only) to the sounds of the geckos and the frogs living in the bungalow gardens.

In love and light,

Martha and Dani