20/6/25
The youth hostel was less comfortable than we were used to. Perfectly nice, but for the same money we’d had far better rooms in fancy hotels. Beeping from the fire alarm disrupted the peace of the nighttime. Rain began falling in the early morning. Habitual throat clearing of nearby guests forced us to wake up.
Our plan had been to head out early but it failed as usual. Frankie was feeling a little low. We’d had a hard week of cycling. Instant coffee sachets did us just fine as we watched everyone else order extravagant meals. We needed to be more cautious with our money. Costs had started ramping up a bit what with the ease of spending money with WeChat.
Abatement of the rain was a pipe dream. Concern for ourselves was overridden by that of the bikes, which were mostly, but not entirely, protected by the tarp. At least we’d made a good choice of rest day. Riding in such continuous rain would have been demoralising. We made a trip to a nearby vegan bakery, Subingfang. They produced a large variety of biscuits and pastry items. There was little choice but to get one of everything.
Continuing our walk, we tried to find some coffee. An eatery caught our eye. A large tray of roast potatoes were being prepared. Frankie’s favourite. We also saw a man with a bowl of noodles. A creamy pale sauce on top. We’d read about this pea based, local delicacy. We went for it. They had a delicious make-your-own dipping sauce bar. We ordered tofu too. Scanning a QR code on the table didn’t work for us. At the end of the road was a supermarket, so we made do with more instant coffee. Drizzle had turned to heavier droplets. We went back to the hostel and finished Playing Nice. A torturous show, infuriating really, softened by eating our baked goods. They were delicious but without any sugar to speak of. Not necessarily a bad thing.
After a couple of hours we were compelled to go out again. Yuantong was a nearby temple. Large dragons inside the main hall looked like they were about to fight. Visitors in their finest threads made us feel underdressed, but they were there to pay tribute. Stairs which led up the cliffs behind the temple were locked up. The most intriguing part, locked off. Inscription inscribed tablets graced the stone faces. Caves, said to once contain dragons were also shut.
Two young people told us what they were thinking about as they prayed. Good health for their family and good results in their studies. One of them scanned a QR code to give money. Thailand has funded the most recent expansions to the temple.
Under our umbrellas, we sought to alleviate Frankie’s continued hankering for wheat products. Perusing the bakery we thought all the bread contained egg and milk, but a shopkeeper assured us it was a generic label. Jonathan joined in and bought a mango infused fruit loaf alongside Frankie’s baguette. We hesitated, then went to the buffet once again. Jonathan wanted some vegetables.
After dinner we dumped our bag at home and waltzed round Green Park. It was an extremely popular place. All domestic tourists. Huge lakes of lotus flowers. Bamboo forest ‘island’. Simultaneously, it was rather consumer based. Many little coffee shops with loud advertising. Darkness fell as we got back to the hostel.
We started watching a show called Forever while munching on the flavourful mango bread. We had decided to book one more night. A total of four. The weather hadn’t been favourable for all the things we wanted to do.
Surly They Won't Make It 