Thailand
Ayutthaya
Striking gold
So, you’re probably thinking ‘Ayu-where?’
At just an hour north of Bangkok, the chances are you’ve already been within striking distance of Ayutthaya, but never struck gold.
Next time you’re going to or through Thailand’s sticky metropolis, do yourself a favour and add this ancient Siamese capital to your itinerary.
Better still, go directly there from Bangkok airport. Do not Wat Pho. Do not collect 200 Baht. With jetlag, a taxi will have you there before you realise. And no need to roll a double. Once there, your Thai immersion can begin peacefully.
Without question, the place to ease you in is Sala Ayutthaya. This veritable oasis of calm and loveliness is highly appropriate for two reasons; bricks and water.
Siam’s old capital is sometimes dubbed ‘The Venice of the East’. Although I've counted no less than 43 other watery Asian destinations laying claim to the same accolade. This includes, somewhat implausibly, Chuncheon in South Korea, Hiroshima in Japan and Dhaka in Bangladesh. Thanks to its abundance of canals, Ayutthaya actually makes one of the more convincing Venices. Along with Luzhi Canal Town in Suzhou, China, Basra in Iraq (search for 'balam'), and Yanagawa, in Fukuoka, Japan.
Ayutthaya’s location, 80km inland, on an island formed by the confluence of the Chao Phraya, Lop Buri and Pa Sak rivers, was chosen strategically to encourage traders and discourage invaders. This strategy was hugely successful for over 400 prosperous years. Maritime and cultural links with France, England, Persia and China made Ayutthaya one of the three great power centres in Asia, and at one point, the most populous city in the world.
But the covetous, cut-throat Burmese brought this to an abrupt end in 1767. Following a long siege, they sacked the capital, burned the temples to the ground and beheaded all the Buddhas. The Siam Kingdom soon reformed in what we now know of as Bangkok, in time becoming Thailand. But Ayutthaya was never rebuilt and to this day remains suspended in an ethereal and eerie state of once-greatness, surrounded by the usual urban sprawl of car exhaust depots, budget furniture emporia and phone repair shops flashing unbeatable SIM-card deals.
Water's restful influence
Cloud Nine
Oblivious to the violent past and impatient present, water still commands its restful influence, percolating gently through the old city’s grid of canals and moats. Mirror-still ponds, waterlilies and low bridges evoke impressions of the gardens at Giverny.
But forget Claude Monet, you’re on cloud nine. Half-standing temples mingle with the undergrowth and watery currents in an explorer’s paradise of artful ruin and religious former-splendour.
Even Ayutthaya’s tuk tuks have an aquatic bent, their noses bent into a cute duck-like curve. Locals call them Tuk Tuk Hua Kop, or frog-faced, a far better description given their googly pug headlights. Reassuringly, they tend to remain firmly on dry land, eschewing the high-octane antics of your typical Bangkok three-wheeler.
As ever though, the best way to navigate central Ayutthaya is on two wheels. The bike the hotel lent me was as wobbly and primitive as any I’ve ridden, but the distances are small and meandering haphazardly felt appropriate. Visitors on tours are channelled around the main sites, whereas following your own flow down whichever tributary catches your interest makes the most of Ayutthaya’s scattered ruins. It’s the art of the dally epitomised. Mastery of the mooch.
Following the watery theme, Hotel Sala Ayutthaya perches itself right beside the Chao Phraya River, with the stupas of Wat Phutthaisawan opposite, perfectly mirrored in the flowing waters. Lit up after dark, or glowing hazy orange at dawn, the show is stupendous.
The river's power becomes apparent the next morning over a leisurely breakfast on the terrace. Working boats plough the straits directly in front of your fruit salad. Those heading smugly downstream pass at three times the speed of those chuffing, puffing and slogging against the stream. It’s both exhausting and strangely calming to watch. Thank goodness the morning caffeine is in full flow.
The other thing in abundance here is crumbling brickwork. The temples were originally finished in ornate white stucco, most of which has now crumbled off, leaving organic, rich red, highly textural brick with a close-cut quality that gives would-be architects like me hot sweats. Or maybe that’s just the Thai humidity?
Reflected Glory
A distinct wonkiness sets off the bricks’ tight alignment imperfectly. The subsiding structures slant, tilt and topple in a kind of visual poetry, sometimes sloping in synch, other times orientated in opposition. Meandering, twisting trees bring stanza and meter to the scene.
Early Henry Moore?
Against this backdrop, the Buddha statues have a distinct ‘Humpty Dumpty had a great fall’ quality, posing and presiding in pieces, courtesy of the marauding Burmese. Loosely put back together again in almost abstract assemblies of curvaceous stones, with arms and heads missing or improvised, their forms are still recognisably Buddha-esque. Their aura, distinctly enlightened.
Could they in fact have been Henry Moore’s inspiration?
Speaking of artistic inspiration, I found the headless statues made great life models. Having held their pose perfectly for around 400 years, an hour or two sitting for me was no trouble at all. But while not at all troublesome to draw, I did find the shading problematic. Carefully positioning my painting stool in shadow, within thirty minutes I’d invariably find myself sweltering in the sun’s full glare, needing to stay put to maintain perspective. It’s a first world problem.
At least I was able to tell my prangs from my stupas, chedis and mondops. With the help of this simple aide-memoir:-
Prangs are podgy. Resembling a corn on the cob stood on its end. Khmer in origin, they symbolise Mount Meru, the mountain supposedly at the centre of the physical, metaphysical and spiritual universe in the Hindu faith. Meru means high in Sanskrit and a prang will generally sit at the centre, the highest structure in any temple. They often have (or used to have) highly ornate stone carvings.
Stupas are sharper. They typically have a broader base, tapering into a slender spire. They’re derived from early Indian burial chambers; earth mounds, with a brick form constructed on top. In modern Thai temples, stupa are often painted gold. Worshipers circle stupas clockwise, so the sacred object is always on their right, the auspicious side.
A Chedi is the samey. A slightly more Thai specific term that can be used interchangeably with stupa. Sometimes chedi might refer to a larger structure and stupa to the smaller surrounding pointy bits, there for moral support.
Stupa and Scaffolding
Mondops have a pyramid on top. Their square pillared base was used as a library or shrine to hold sacred scriptures or artefacts. The pyramid on top narrows rapidly to a spire, usually shorter than neighbouring prangs or stupas.
Ayutthaya's crowd puller
I hope you've got that. There will be a short test at the end.
The fact all forms co-existed in Ayutthaya speaks to the breadth of its influence in its day. And gives the layman like me, something to sound wise about.
Speaking of wisdom, even if you’d never heard of Ayutthaya, there’s a good chance you’ll recognise the image of the sagacious Buddha head at Wat Mahathat. It’s the one strangled by the sprawling roots of a banyan tree. It’s Ayutthaya’s most popular image. And rather gripping.
No one knows for sure how the Buddha head came to end up smothered by the strangler fig. Unceremoniously decapitated by the Burmese, rather than being carted away or trashed, this head somehow found sanctuary. And has been held tight in the Banyan’s embrace since.
Actually, to my eye, this particular Buddha looks a little pissed off, certainly less blissed than chubbier versions. You’d be forgiven for being a little peeved yourself, under the circumstances. He certainly gets virtually no privacy.
This set-piece crowd puller is pure selfie-stick central. It’s worth visiting just to witness the exquisitely ironic contrast at play. Throngs of tourists, each seeking a snap complete with inane grin and cheesy peace sign, versus the erudite composure of the Lord Buddha, at one with nature, and resigned to his fate, and resultant fame.
I spotted a Thai lady sightseeing, in 35 degrees of heat, with her cat ensconced in a specially adapted backpack. Even though its accommodation was generously sized, airy and equipped a working fan, the cat looked even less amused than Lord Buddha himself.
Equally hot, sweaty, and saturated by stupas, I took great pleasure in returning, to Sala Ayutthaya’s cool, calm modernism. I’d have paid good money just to step into its enthusiastically air-conditioned art gallery reception. (Come to think of it, I did pay good money).
Relatively Complete Composure
Saffron Flavour
In response to the surrounding ruins, Sala Ayutthaya ups the ante with slick, ultra-modern brickwork. Its red brick structure curves, soars, and ascends gracefully, speaking to the inner Lego enthusiast in each of us. (Although, the Lego models of my childhood were unfailingly rectilinear. Arcs and curves were way beyond the skill of this amateur constructor). The hotel's interiors complement this modern brickwork with the inevitable slick concrete, airy drapes, cool white walls and even cooler jazz.
But when it comes to cool atmosphere, nothing beats the intensity of being amongst Ayutthaya’s UNESCO-listed monuments.
Face to face with history (albeit with precious few faces left), you feel disconnected from the shallowness and transience of the modern world and deeply aligned to something more spiritual and enduring.
The marooned Buddha's head at Wat Mahathat is in fact the perfect metaphor for Ayutthaya; the historic monuments rest, peaceful and pensive, in the clutches of a restless and relentlessly growing city. Out of respect, that new gives the old the space to just be.
In our 4G, AI world of high bandwidth and low attention, this is the OG UX.
A Few Links and Practicalities
(Just sharing the love. I absolutely don’t get paid for these.)
Sala Ayutthaya:
www.salahospitality.com/ayutthaya/
Baan Pomphet:
Fancy Michelin listed restaurant with small boutiquey hotel attached, rivalling the Sala
At its peak, Ayutthaya had around 400 temples. There are 41 now. Whilst you won't want to see them all, Ayutthaya warrants more than a day trip. You could easily do three days. Naturally, I lingered a little longer.
If you want to limit yourself to the biggies, the five I'd prioritise are:
Wat Phra Si Sanphet: Once the largest temple in the city, in the grounds of the former Royal Palace
Wat Mahathat: Plenty to see beyond our Banyan tree Buddha
Wat Lokayasutharam: This one has a 40 meter reclining outdoor Buddha. It used to have wonderful crumble and patina, but has recently been re-plastered and painted to resemble a giant slab of melting butter.
Wat Ratchaburana: Includes Ayutthaya's most spectacular prang
Wat Chaiwatthanaram: Although this is off the main island, I highly recommend the slight detour
There's a small entrance fee for most of the bigger temples or you can buy a pass that covers them all.
Don’t miss;
Some of the smaller lower-billed temples, such as Wat Worachettharam, Wat Thammikarat or Wat Phutthaisawan if you can manage the slight detour and fancy a bit of new alongside the old.
Bang Pa-In Palace; 19th Century Royal Summer Palace a short day trip away from Ayutthaya.
Do miss;
Riding on an elephant. However quaint it looks, a little research into what's involved for the elephants should put you off.
