Of 3 Pagodas and a bunch of Wangkas in Kanchanaburi Thailand

For about six years I've dreamed of hammering up Route 323 on my motor bike. Today I did it.

Kicking off from the lovely grounds of the Pung Waan Resort at Nam Tok (near Sai Yok Noi waterfall, where an old Japanese loco sits eerily on a section of track which is now the railhead), we were immediately enjoying the wide, flat and smooth surface of the 323.

Not just for Mazdas ...

Route 323 runs riot for approximately 300 km, starting near Nakhon Pathom (just west of Bangkok) and out through Ban Pong (where the PoWs arrived in cattle carts from Singapore to build the death railway), through Kanchanaburi, out past Sangkhlaburi and ends at Three Pagodas pass on the Burma Thai border.

Originally it was a muddy track, the one used by the Japanese to march the PoWs up to various notorious Death Railway work camps in the Second World War. It was also their main supply route north, but virtually impassable in the heavy monsoons of 1943.

The vistas to the west are ruggedly awesome - beautiful mist clad mountains, purplish green.

We soon came to the Hellfire Pass turnoff, with nurseries opposite in full tropical bloom. All of this beauty disguises the fact that the dreaded Cholera Hill (as it was nicknamed) sits just behind.

Several signs spruiked resorts and floating jungle rafts, cool hotels anchored in the Kwai Noi river. It is brilliant fun to put on a life-jacket and just float for kilometres downstream with cave-riven steep cliffs soaring abruptly 200 or 300 metres above you (warning: do not try this in wet season; a boat once had to come racing after me when I missed my 'stop').

Sai Yok Yai falls is quite splendid when in full cry, and riverside restaurants and boat hire outfits here do a roaring trade. Literally. Have you ever heard a V8 longtail boat in full cry? It makes my BMW bike sound positively whiny in comparison.

Still, I enjoyed making that comparison along the many straight stretches of the highway, seeing if there was anything after the red zone on the rpm metre ... well, you know, perhaps, it just goes around the clock and starts again or something. I wasn't going to die wondering.

I always enjoy the coffee shops along the way in Amazing Thailand. Cute little places in the middle of nowhere that can whip up a latte as fine as any you'll find in downtown London, Sydney or New York.

We stopped for a coffee just before the turnoff to Thong Pha Phum (I like that place name ... it sounds like sound-checking a drum kit, jing jing.) Thong! Pha!! Phum!!!

And this is where confusion set in ...

Note digital lights even out here ...

On my map (the trusty Roadway Thailand Atlas) the road to Thong! Pha! Phum! is a sharp left, and the road to the 3 Pagodas Pass is straight ahead. However, what we were presented with in reality was a 90-degree turn off at the lights to 3 Pagodas, while the road to Thong! Pha! Phum! carried on straight.

I put my helmet down on the road shoulder to go and speak to some soldiers/ customs/ police/ miscellaneous uniformed personnel at the nearby checkpoint. Yes, Three Pagodas is here, a right turn. Oh, so the road signs were correct then (never, ever, NEVER assume anything in Thailand!)

I put my helmet back on and ... hey ... what the? ... aaaargh!!! An ant. Biting my neck. Bastard! Then another on my ear. Aaaargh! Then all over my head. I ripped off my helmet, to see it infested with a whole colony of tiny black ants, drawn in no doubt by the heady (pardon the pun) pheromone of sweat built up over tens of thousands of kilometres done on Thailand's roads.

It took a full five minutes of swatting, slapping, scraping and smearing the little blighters to render my helmet secure again (OK, that doesn't make me a great Buddhist).

The case against opium 

The road now took a windier demeanour, curving hither and thither through forested hills. Rounding one bend, the road was suddenly blocked by a meandering crowd and a fleet of pick-up trucks. A Karen hilltribe festival. Perhaps an ordination. Splendid day-glo costumes adorned the kids, cleverly tied cloths festooned the adults' heads. Some guy was pounding out tunes on a weathered set of skins. Thong! Pha! Phum! An elderly couple danced like they meant it. They were either drunk on rice whiskey, high on opium poppies, or crazy. I bet a dollar on the latter.

Then the road descended wildly, with huge concrete lane dividers which made it feel like a luge run. This was Cool Runnings Thai-style.

Out into the open again, the countryside opened up magnificently, a huge flood plain where the Kwai Noi has been dammed and the Khao Laem reservoir has buried villages and temples but given life to a lively amount of traditional fishing villages and water sports. Er, and whisk broom empires. Forget what your broker's telling you about Google; get into whisk brooms, these people must know something on the inside I'm telling you.

Richer folks in the area have jagged top spots for their houses with commanding lakeside views of where the two ends of the Death Railway finally joined in October 1943.

Further on a huge bridge across the Ranti River afforded money-shot valley views. Then climb climb climb to Sangkhla Buri, a refreshingly prosperous town, with fancy median strips, a massive gold reclining Buddha, and ... tah daaaaaa ... the 3 Pagodas.

Hold on a minute. I thought the pagodas were supposed to be white? And we're still a few kilometres short of the border. These were pirated pagodas!

Sangkhla Buri is clearly a popular town for locals to visit (about 6-7 hours by road from Bangkok). A swathe of small guest houses and restaurants lined many many back roads that I took, looking for Thailand's longest wooden bridge, the Mon Bridge. Easy to miss really, it's only 400 metres long!

Can you spot the Wangkas?

On the other side is a Mon tribal village (they exiled from Burma in 1949) called ... wait for it ... Wangka, jing jing.

Today there are about 25,000 Wangkas living on that side of the river. So approximately half the town are Wangkas.

And so, with childish smirks on our faces, we left the Wangkas and headed up toward the border. Lord knows how the Japanese thought you could get a train line up through the Tenasserim Hills here, but they did, exacting a dreadful toll on the allied men of A Force.

The 3 Pagodas are actually a tad underwhelming. Not huge. Not impressive. But distinctive all the same.

They symbolize the area at which Buddhism entered the country from India in the 3rd century, and also mark the area through which several Burmese invasions against Thailand were launched (and vice versa), and of course was the point at which the Thai Burma Railway exited the country. A small section of track commemorates that (although this section of the railway was ripped up immediately post-war to ensure Karen separatists did not make use of it).

A huge Thai flag fluttered limply to one side. A starry/ stripy Myanmar flag on the other. A queue of cars, trucks and three-wheelers, all groaning under the weight of baggage, lined up to exit Amazing Thailand.

Some Wangka on a BMW

We posed for photos. Asked Thai soldiers to shoot us (er, with the camera I mean) but were politely declined as they preferred to sit in the shade of the customs office veranda. The Burmese soldiers however were much more co-operative. At the first sight of the camera they sprung to their feet, cradled their AK-47s, and couldn't wait to shoot us. On sight. Fingering their triggers, and pacing up and down, they motioned my friend to point his camera away. He didn't. I urged him to, otherwise I myself would shoot him. Wangka!

Like any border town, markets have sprung up here. Selling Thai and Burmese handicrafts, clothes, whiskey, and Chinese crap. Kids played with remote controlled cars at the base of the Thai flag.

Kid ordering 2 goat soups

One stall had a large pot sitting on the counter. Out the top seemed to be some kind of horn. On further inspection, it was a goat's horn. Still attached to a whole goat's head. In the soup. Shit! It was goat's head soup. (Is this where the Rolling Stones got their inspiration for their seminal album?)

The shop owner indicated in the universal fashion that this could put lead in your pencil.

As my friend coerced the head from the pot trying to get the thing to smile for a photo, I noticed a bunch of kids materialising from a gaping hole in the side wall of the shop.

"Is that Burma?" I asked. Yes, he replied, grinning. There was nothing to stop people or goods simply climbing through from one country to another via his shop wall. I took a step forward -- he raised a hand indicating I shouldn't try it ...

The Real Amazing Thailand ... not on the tourist map.

Every now and again in a traveller's life there's a day that stands out as a 'real' travel experience, because it's not scripted, not planned, completely spontaneous and utterly authentic. I was about to have one of those days as we continued our motor bike tour of northern Thailand ...

Phil and I fired up the motorcycles after a photo opportunity at the huge golden Buddha who sits serenely on the Thai side of the Golden Triangle. The plan was now to follow the Mekong River around as we tracked east on the 4007, keeping the mighty muddy river on our left. Its levels fluctuate vastly depending on the season, and now it was over 7m deep, considered a level at which it gets 'interesting' as it churns its way across from Yunnan all the way up in China through the Indochina countries to finally disgorge itself in Vietnam.

Before too long we were passing through Chiang Khong, the well known border town where backpackers and 'visa runners' gorge noodles and hop on ferries across to Laos. Every now and again the ridge would rise, and the jungle would open itself up to a wondrous view of the river, with boats fast and slow playing their trade against the current, and the Laos jungle holding tightly onto whatever secrets it keeps.

We picked up the 1155 and tracked the Mekong a little more until we came to a T-junction near Wiang Kaen (the eastern most district of Chiang Rai province). I turned right. But after 100 metres, I pulled over. Something didn't feel right. Should we have gone left? (The signage in Thai offered no clue, of course! One squiggle pretty much looks like another.)

We U-turned then found the road getting smaller and smaller until we came across a very sleepy village. This was definitely not the right road either. What the ... ?

I pulled up outside a house/shed to consult my map. No sooner had I switched off the ignition than there was a beaming Thai face right next to me, offering a glass of whiskey. I beamed and declined with thanks. It was not quite 11am. By the time Phil had pulled up, this guy was pointing across to this shaded carport-like shed where I could see about half a dozen of his mates sitting in a circle, with several bottles of Sam Song Whiskey in front of them.

They motioned us to join them. We exchanged greetings. With sign language and my sketchy Thai I tried to signal where we were supposed to be going. They laughed. Have a drink, they said. Phil is a teetotaller, so I had to take one for the team. I can't stand bloody whiskey. Not even at night. Aaargh! NASA would be interested in this stuff. Have another they insisted.

These guys were local pomelo farmers, finished their morning shift. Sitting around on the dirt floor, slicing, dicing, cubing, and julienning vegetables all to go into a huge pot for lunch. I hadn't even noticed till then, all their womenfolk were sitting off to the side, gas-bagging, while the men prepared the food. This is apparently very common in northern Thailand rural areas (much like an Aussie BBQ really.)

Have another drink. Hahaha. There was no taking 'no' for an answer because they didn't even ask the question, just topped up the glass. And topped it up, and topped it up.

They started handing around some spicy minced pork while the main dish was boiling off on a little fire nearby. One of the guys lifted the lid, and -- oh my god! -- it was like something from Lord of the Rings. A flaming pig's head smiled at me from the bottom of the pot. I mean a whole damn head, ears, snout and all. I swear it winked at me. Jing jing!

Stay for lunch they said. Well, yeah OK, why not? After all the sun was belting down and this was so pleasant to be spending a really fun time trying to negotiate across cultures with uproarious results, whatever was said or charaded.

Then these hard young men did something truly touching. A couple of them went out, grabbed some cardboard sheets, and covered our motor bikes with them so they wouldn't get too hot. A caring gesture.

Soon after, a 4WD pulled up, and a most glamourous leggy lass sidled out. One of the guys' sister, who ran a flower market in Chiang Mai. Suddenly it was Phil, and not the pig in the pot, who was all ears! Within a few minutes he was announcing that they would be getting married. Uproarious laughter from the gang.

Lunch was not too soon, and the pork, vegetables, rice and soup went down a treat. 'Drink more whiss-a-key, Khun Stu.' One more for the team.. Aaargh!

As the heat of the day pounded on the roof, and the humidity reached triple if not quadruple figures, I could feel my energy sapping. Someone had turned up the gravity. Phil was still fine-tuning the wedding details in his inimitable gregarious style; he was doing fine with the ladies.

In a moment of clarity I realised we had a lot of kilometres yet to go. We had to get out of here while I was still able. I went to slip some money to our gracious host (a nominal sum just to cover the whiss-a-key and the food, not a big showy farang amount). It was summarily declined.No, wouldn't hear of it. This was not about money it was about friendship. 'Thailand Australia friends, number one.' We made our excuses and left, to a big farewell of waves and laughs.

While the details of that day are not so clear, thanks to the Sang Som, I'll always remember it. I'm ashamed to say the whiskey wiped the guys' names from my memory. And Phil I'm sure still dreams about whats-her-name. But I'll never forget the day I took a wrong turn and discovered the real Amazing Thailand.

I've marked it on my GPS.