How Marvelous Life Is

November 13, 2025

Dear little friends,

Honestly, it’s not terrible faffing around Chiang Mai for an extra 9 days. I have all sorts of capacity for indolence, but the tiny microtasks of everyday travel keep me surprisingly occupied. Just the laundry for every single sweaty excursion outside of our air-conditioned room, and finagling a way to dry said laundry! I’m just busy busy busy all the time (falsehood).

So we’ve had to dole out excursions to one per day because of laundry and energy, today’s excursion was going to be to Lotus’s. Yes, yes. People come from far and wide to Chiang Mai to experience the beauty and culture and nature but we, we need to go to Lotus’s to stock up on muesli for the weeks ahead in the wilderness of non-muesli Northern Thailand and possibly Laos too. Bruce mapped out a sort of route (“we’ll just follow the river”) and off we sailed into some real sunshine and sort of drier air than the sauna of the last nearly three weeks.

This neighborhood we’re staying in has been a revelation and previously completely unknown to us, we’re south of the southern edge of the moat/Old City, and it’s much quieter and less touristed, with neighborhoods complete with huge trees, overgrown vacant lots, small barns with water buffalo and chickens just yards away from chi chi ‘poshtels’ and tattoo parlors. I’ve always liked the lack of zoning in Thailand. Old next to new, rural tucked into urban.

The spiderweb of shady lanes eventually spit us out into some serious urban riding. Where did that high-rise come from? And that one? Damn, son. Why would you ever stay in one of these? But actually I kind of see the appeal sometimes. Give me six weeks out in funky rural SE Asia and I’d be thrilled to be in a modern high-rise with a swanky elevator and a buffet breakfast.

The plan to “follow the river” kind of went awry because in the market area the road next to the river is a one way and it wasn’t going our way. This meant ducking into the mammoth Mueang Mai Market and scrambling through the chaos thereof. It’s super exciting and worthy of a biking video but you would definitely die if your attention wandered for a split second. We did stop to take photos of shrimp.

During our last FaceTime with our 3.5 year old grandson, he asked for pictures of “candles and shrimp”. Candles floating in the river, specifically, because we had described Loy Krathong to him. That candle has sailed although we did send footage of the little lights floating in the darkness, but he remains unsatisfied with those. But shrimp? Shrimp we can do. We had told him there were foot-long shrimp/prawns in the market and he was intrigued, hence his request. I’m not sure why the shrimp, I think he likes to eat shrimp. Wait till he finds out they have eyes and legs and antennae.

Those dudes on the left are at least a foot long.

After the market we were in some reasonably sane streets and closing in on Lotus’s. But first, a street of huge puddles! Let’s go a different way. That detour led us into a perfect garden of delights. A literal garden, because there is an enormous market area up in those parts called Kham Thiang Garden Market. It looks to be a fairly recent development, with several widely spaced streets and various plant and garden supply vendors on each street. For people like us, it’s Garden Disneyland!

The sun was beating down. Bruce, stop taking photos and let’s go to Lotus’s and we’ll come back this way and ride up and down each street. Air conditioning is calling me.

Just a word about Lotus’s. First of all, what a stupid name. It used to be called Tesco Lotus, a brand familiar to those of the European persuasion. Lotus’s has little bodega, 7-11 sized stores in nearly every Thai town but only larger towns have these big department-sized stores at the edge of town. Inside is the large Lotus’s with groceries and things that can be hard to find in Thailand, and clothing and gift baskets and so on. And then a million little kiosks and hole-in-the-wall stores with food or shoes or bras or SIM cards or banks.

Lotus's has the largest and weirdest potato chip flavor selection.

The first time we met Jeff Arnim we gifted him a can of Pringles, so it's pretty much a given that we will send him photos of new flavors to try.

There is always a KFC. And where there is KFC, there is Dairy Queen.

I wouldn’t dream of going to Dairy Queen in the states but here it’s like my holy grail. As we sat in the food court with two new bags of muesli tucked into Bruce’s backpack, I gazed at my tiny chocolate dipped cone and I was back on Dakota Avenue in Libby, Montana. We lived two blocks from the Dairy Queen on Highway 2 and our mom had given us 50 cents to get ten baby cones for the family. Yes. There are ten people in my family. The trick was to speed walk with the little cardboard cone holders the two blocks home before the little curl of white soft-serve started to droop, which would make some of us cry, to have a non-curled DQ baby cone. We were forbidden to lick or touch any of those cones. Or drop or spill. We got so good at that. I never in ten quadrillion light years could have predicted that someday I’d be looking at the curl of my cone in a faraway food court surrounded by Thais eating Lotus’s pad krapao. That’s how marvelous life is. You look at your grandkid asking for photos of shrimp and wonder what and where the hell he will see and go in his lifetime ahead.

Anyway, we finagled our bikes out of a tangle of motorbikes in the Lotus’s parking lot. The sun was beating down. I was wishing I had my long-sleeved sun protective shirt on because the sunscreen was rapidly departing all exposed skin along with gallons of watery sweat. Back to the garden market to cruise up and down the lanes marveling at the incredible diversity of plants and flowers that we would like to grow in Portland and never will. The difference between Bruce and I, and this is a very significant difference, is that when the sun is beating down and I’m lurking in any shade I can find, he is still photographing, documenting, making this journal exponentially more beautiful and interesting for you all, while I am mostly incapacitated.

We were really impressed by how clean and orderly this market was.

I took exactly ONE photo in this paradise. In the shade.

Now that we were returning south to our ‘hood, now we could ride next to the river, which is still high from recent rains, still has the occasional launching platform leftover from Loy Krathong, still skirting the market with shop after shop of papayas and coconuts, then it passes in front of the American consulate. The stars and stripes were at half mast, presumably out of respect for the late Queen Sirikit, but somehow, despite everything happening in our country I get a thrill out of seeing it, I remain hopeful, I feel there is a lot worth fighting for. A tuk-tuk noisily grazed by my elbow at top speed and the thrill was replaced by a different kind of thrill and I decided I’d better pay attention to where I was instead of where I’m from.

By the time we got back to our room I was done with excursions, took a shower, washed my soaked clothing, and settled into a siesta afternoon. Eventually Bruce was able to rouse me enough with these two words: “Aroon Rai”. Oh. Well, then. I’d get myself right up right now.

This is the SE corner of the old city wall built in the late 13th century.

Aroon Rai is an old-school restaurant right in the heart of Chiang Mai, a block down from Thaphae Gate. It’s been there for 70 years and they make a Gaeng Hang Lay to absolutely die for. Bruce makes it at home and it takes him two days and a LOT of complaining (“I’m never making this again” kind of complaining) and then people fall over his Gaeng Hang Lay and so, okay, maybe he’ll make it again someday. We had Gaeng Hang Lay at a closer, newer restaurant last week. It was good, but far too sweet, and, um, I don’t know, inadequate.

Another Chiang Mai specialty is Chiang Mai sausage, illustrated here in an oddly fecal presentation.

The thing about Aroon Rai is that it looks like a place where people don’t give jack squat about presentation or atmosphere. And they don’t. The tables are formica worn from 50 years of little blue plastic bowls and plates on them in certain spots. The wall is adorned with dusty bottles of whiskey that look like they’ve been slowly evaporating. Piles of crap are stacked in out-of-the-way corners. But, if you know, you know. The Gaeng Hang Lay will bring tears to your eyes. Every time we eat it there, we realize there is nothing else on the menu worth eating. We did, we ordered another dish with chicken and it was okay but we should have just ordered two Gaeng Hang Lay. It’s a curry with pickled garlic, tons of shredded ginger, a complex thick broth of spices (that’s what takes Bruce so long to make, is that spice business) and pork chunks falling apart under your cheapo aluminum spoon. Absolute heaven.

Anthony Bourdain went to Aroon Rai and totally blew it by ordering wings. Tsk, tsk, we said to each other when we watched that episode.

As we sat there at our ugly table the sun went down over the rooftops of Old Town and shoals of tuk-tuks and tourists and motorbikes roared along the moat steps away. More people, mostly Thais, drifted in and filled the rest of the ugly tables and set to. You really wonder how long a place like Aroon Rai can carry on with its listless decor and non-adorable staff. The fan flickered overhead and we sat back in our plastic chairs and silently cheered every single person who sat down with us. We are charged with paying attention to where we are and not what will happen next. It’s not up to us. But hoo boy. The Gaeng Hang Lay is a national treasure and you should go there.

On our walk back, through a particularly sweet lane in Old Town.

Today's ride: 10 miles (16 km)
Total: 83 miles (134 km)

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Steve Miller/GrampiesDo you send still photos to your grandkids, or little videos? We started sending whatsapp videos of 30 seconds to 1 or 2 minutes to Joni near the end of her life so she could share our adventures and hear our voices. We copied to the grands. Since her passing we kept the videos going to the grands. It felt like we were still connecting with Joni, and the children really love them. Especially ones where Gramps "interviews" animals we encounter.
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2 months ago

Andrea BrownTo Steve Miller/GrampiesWe text both stills and short videos to their parents since they are all too young for phones, and of course we FaceTime them every few days. 10 am here is 7 pm there and they’re usually in their jammies and winding down for bed. I’ll bet it was a lovely comfort to Joni to hear from you.
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2 months ago

John Solem"I decided I’d better pay attention to where I was instead of where I’m from."

That is a simple but profound observation -- thank you (and glad you didn't get creamed)!
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2 months ago

Mark LellmanExcellent photos. I remember Aroon Rai. Bruce sent me there in 1988. He and I ate there in 2000 too. Damned if I remember what I ate however. I imagine he decided what I should have, and I left it at that. Making me hungry now...
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2 months ago

Bruce LellmanTo Mark LellmanI'm sure we got gaeng heng lay (Chiang Mai pork curry) because it's the best gaeng heng lay in Thailand! We met our first cyclist on the road yesterday, a great guy from Israel. We talked to him for a long time and it was so fun. He was heading to Chiang Mai where his bike trip would end and we told him he had to eat at Aroon Rai. He said his wife was flying in and they would go there. He started his trip in Hanoi. A forty two day trip for him. It would have been an eighty four day trip for us.
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2 months ago