The Dawn of Happiness...

Sukhothai is derived from the words sukha and uthai, meaning the dawn of happiness. It's influence once spread as far north as Vientiane, now in modern Laos, and the Thai alphabet that is in use today originated within the kingdom. The city was founded in 1257, and within 150 years it had pushed the mighty Khmer Empire back to the borders of modern Cambodia. Many of the temples bear traces of Hindu influence, and Wat Si Sawai, for example, is believed to have been a Hindu temple before it was adapted for Buddhist worship.

Last night I went for dinner with Marion, who is also staying at the Old City Guesthouse, and afterwards she was talking with the lady who cooked for us, asking her questions in her animated, superbly-accented English, The lady wanted to know where we came from, and when she found out that Marion was Swiss she excitedly told us that her brother lived there, studying or practising law. At one point she went into a back room and returned with a dusty and well-worn French-English dictionary, leafing through until she found the wiord 'loi'. We talked for a while, and her husband joined in for a few words every so often. Eventually he went to his counter, nd came back with an amulet which he pressed into my hand as he performed a solemn, formal wai. I returned his wai spontaneously, my heart beating with gratitude and pleasure. I made another deep wai without really thinking, and it struck me what a powerfully appropriate gesture it is, and how well it represents the true feeling of humble gratitude. He gave me another amulet to give to Marion, and explained that it was the Buddha from Wat Maha That in Sukhothai's Old City. It is a truly special gift.

Later that evening we travelled by tuk-tuk into New Sukhothai to search for music and somewhere to have a few beers. On the way home we hailed another tuk-tuk with a driver who went to his house to gather jackets for all three of us on the chilly journey home. Mine was a Thai silk jacket of shining silver with dark blue lapels which our driver said was his jacket for playing music. He said he plays the drums, and was delighted when I said I play the violin, miming the motion to be understood over the whistling wind. We stopped at an out-of-town shop on the way and he and I had a can of Chang each. When we arrived back at the Old City he gave me a solemn wai and presented the jacket as a gift for me to wear when I play music. Its European debut will be the 2011 Oxford Folk Festival.

This morning we watched the sun rise at Wat Maha That, then had a breakfast of Pad Thai and Tom Yung Goong. Afterwards we cycled out of the Namo Gate to the south of the city. After Wat Ton Chan we passed a small farm where a tiny puppy was struggling across the yard. We asked if we could come and look, and the family invited us in, bringing intolerably cute puppies to us, one after the other, each of them crawling with large black fleas that writhed on their bellies. The young child who brought the dogs for us to see gave me a sharp, formal wai after depositing the dog in my hands. The smallest was obviously the runt of the litter and it was clear that its brief life would be over in a matter of days.

Further down the road, at Wat Chetuphan, we saw strange structures made of leaves scattered on the ground, then Marion noticed a seething mass of red ants marching up and down a tree. They seemed to be harvesting the tree resin and the oblomg leaf-boxes must have been temporary nest sites. Within seconds we had been bitten by several of the soldiers, each of them over half an inch long. The one that sunk its powerful jaws into Marion's big toe was forceful enough to draw blood. We crossed the road to Wat Chedi Si Hong, and for an hour afterwards we were both twitching and jumping at the phantom ants we could feel on our skin, and brushing imaginary ants for our clothing.