2025 Thailand/China

mai - juni 2025
  • Juliet Sinclair's Trips
Et 22-dagers eventyr av Juliet Sinclair's Trips Les mer
  • Juliet Sinclair's Trips

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  • Day 1: Bangkok

    19. mai, Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 33 °C

    After more than 30 hours in transit, we’ve finally arrived in Bangkok!
    The 12-hour leg in business class—with a flatbed—was a game-changer. Comfort aside, we were pleasantly surprised (read: mildly stunned) by the Giorgio Armani toiletry kit and an actual set of pajamas handed out on board. Nothing like changing into branded sleepwear at 36,000 feet to remind you that travel can still feel a little magical.

    We’ve been to many Asian cities, each with its own rhythm. Tokyo, Singapore, and Shanghai dazzle with sleek futurism. Hong Kong, Kyoto, and Beijing strike a delicate balance between ancient beauty and modern energy. And then there are cities like New Delhi—where the raw, often jarring contrast between wealth and poverty plays out in the open. Bangkok fits into that last category. One moment you’re passing crumbling buildings with faded paint and shattered windows; the next, you’re staring up at gleaming towers of glass and steel, each one more architecturally ambitious than the last.

    The subway here is modern, clean, and efficient. Our only real discomfort was a brief moment of horror when a young man directly across from us began mining his nose with impressive commitment—and absolutely no shame.

    When we stepped out of the station, the heat hit us like a physical wall. The air was thick, fragrant with a mix of street food, detergent, and city dust—strangely not unpleasant. With hours to kill before we could check into our hotel, we wandered until we found a random restaurant with a roof and shade. The locals inside looked at us with wide-eyed curiosity; the owner came rushing over with menus that had seen better (and cleaner) days.

    I ordered crispy pork belly—flavorful, rich, and so good I barely noticed (or minded) the flies enjoying the raw cuts hanging out front. The fact the whole meal costs about $7 also helped. Here’s hoping we packed enough anti-diarrhea meds to counteract our enthusiasm.

    Today’s main event: a wild, wonderful, stomach-busting Tuk Tuk Thai Street Food Tour!
    If you’ve never ridden in a tuk tuk, picture a motorized tricycle with zero regard for traffic laws and a talent for squeezing through gaps no car would dare attempt. With the sunset glowing behind Bangkok’s skyline, we zipped into the streets and began what our guide promised would be a three-hour food frenzy. She wasn’t kidding—she absolutely fed us until we were on the brink of collapse.

    Stop #1: A restaurant specializing in Isan cuisine (from Thailand’s northeast). We were hit with bold flavors from papaya salad, spicy pork shoulder salad, ground pork, and chicken soup done Thai-style.
    Stop #2: Dessert already? Yes please: mango sticky rice, and a crispy pastry topped with warm coconut cream.
    Stop #3: The heavy hitters: a rich coconut curry voted one of the best in the world (yes, it lived up to the hype) and an unforgettable pork belly massaman curry.
    Stop #4: Mystery desserts—we had no idea what they were, but they were sweet, chewy, and totally worth it.
    Stop #5: Deep-fried flat noodle patties topped with a fried egg. Crunchy, savory, weird, and wonderful.

    Typing this all out is exhausting—but imagine eating it all. My mouth was thrilled; my stomach was staging a protest. By the end, I truly wished I were a cow with four stomachs. Seriously.

    But wait—the night wasn’t over.
    Our tuk tuk whisked us off to Bangkok’s 24-hour flower market, which is exactly what it sounds like: stalls and stalls of blooms in every direction. Except… all we could smell was grilled meat from nearby vendors. (Bangkok priorities, clearly.)

    We were taught how to fold lotus petals—a peaceful, almost meditative tradition that left us calm, quiet, and slightly sticky-fingered.

    Final stop: A rooftop bar with a killer view of the city. A golden temple glowed against the night sky. The breeze stirred ripples in the river below, turning the temple’s reflection into liquid gold.

    And now… I’ve officially been awake for over 20 hours. Please let the sleep gods bless me tonight!
    Les mer

  • Day 2: Bangkok

    20. mai, Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 33 °C

    Today was our first full day in Bangkok—and what a day it was! We hired a private tour guide named Apple, who is as delightful as her name suggests. Sharp, funny, and full of stories, she made it her mission to give us the perfect introduction to the city—and she nailed it.

    Since we’re first-timers here, Apple declared this the “Day of Temples and Markets.” First up: the Grand Palace. I thought I’d seen gold when I visited the Golden Temple in New Delhi… but Bangkok said, “Hold my mango sticky rice.” The Grand Palace is drenched in gold—dazzling, ornate, and absolutely massive. Then came the Reclining Buddha at Wat Pho, a 46-meter-long masterpiece lounging in gold leaf like he owns the place (spoiler: he kind of does). And just when we thought the gold game was over, we found out about the Golden Buddha at Wat Traimit—solid gold and weighing 5.5 tons. Yes, tons. Thailand doesn’t do subtle.

    To visit these sacred spots, everyone must cover shoulders and legs. For tourists caught off guard in shorts, there’s a quick fix: elephant pants! Picture rows of Western men sheepishly waddling around in loose, brightly patterned trousers that look like they were all printed from the same bolt of fabric. It’s unintentional group cosplay—and I love it.

    The architecture of the Grand Palace is wild—a fascinating fusion of traditional Thai rooftops sitting atop what looks suspiciously like Buckingham Palace. Apparently, the King stayed there once and thought, “Let’s bring a bit of London home.”

    But the real star of the day? The food. Apple led us into a street market that felt like an obstacle course meets buffet line. Picture a narrow sidewalk jammed with vendors, each squeezed into tiny stalls hawking everything from sizzling skewers to rainbow crepes, fresh juices to fried bananas. Two-way pedestrian traffic was a shoulder-to-shoulder shuffle, and at any moment you could duck into a stall, hand over 30 baht, and emerge victorious with a bag of something delicious (and probably fried).

    We lunched in a humble eatery tucked into the market, and wow—Thai food in Thailand hits different. Fresher, bolder, and more complex than anything I’ve had back home. And just when we thought our taste buds couldn’t be happier, we had dinner at a riverside restaurant with a front-row seat to the sunset. As we feasted under the stars, party boats lit up like floating discos drifted by on the water. Pure magic. Seriously, the BEST curry I’ve ever had! How can something taste so rich and refreshing at the same time! It was sweet with a hint of spicy, creamy with a dash of citric. Just WOW! I am going to be so sad going back to Thai restaurant at home now.

    If this is just day one, I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.
    Les mer

  • Day 3: Bangkok

    21. mai, Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 31 °C



    Since landing in Bangkok, we’ve been checking off one tourist activity after another — but this morning took the crown for the most gloriously touristy adventure yet: the Maeklong Railway Market and the Damnoen Saduak Floating Market.

    Our private tour guide and driver picked us up early for the hour-and-a-half journey out of the city. On the way to the railway market, we strolled through a sprawling seafood market full of alien-looking fish and mysterious sea creatures. Shockingly, it didn’t smell like a rotting aquarium.

    The moment we reached the Railway Market proper, it felt like every tourist in Bangkok had the same idea. Total chaos — cameras everywhere, people jostling for the perfect selfie angle. Thankfully, our guide had pre-reserved us the VIP spot at a restaurant with front-row seats to the main event.

    Eventually, the train appeared — not with a dramatic roar, but more of a leisurely crawl, like it was on its coffee break. The train squeezed through the narrow lane, everyone got their photo, and then it was over. Was it fascinating? Sure, in a “well, that happened” kind of way.

    Then it was off to the Floating Market, where the canals were buzzing with longtail boats and colorful stalls. It was a chaotic ballet of paddles and propellers, and we were right in the thick of it.

    But the real magic happened when we drifted away from the busy market and glided into a peaceful residential neighborhood tucked along the canal. Suddenly, the noise faded, and a different side of life unfolded. Wooden bungalows perched on stilts above the water, doors wide open to catch the breeze. Laundry flapped lazily on lines, potted plants spilled greenery onto porches, and curious dogs perked up as we passed. Elderly folks lounged on their porches or crouched by the edge of the canal, and one graceful woman rowed by, her boat gliding silently beside ours.

    It was serene, simple, and deeply beautiful — a glimpse into the slower, quieter rhythm of canal life. No crowds, no noise — just calm waters and a sense that time was taking the day off.

    For dinner today, we had yet another street food tour, this time, all restaurants are Michelin Star rated. We had the best Mongo Sticky Rice, Pad Thai and a banquet fit for a king (the chef used to work in the palace). It has only been two days, but i have eaten so much I believe I’ve gain 100 pounds!
    Les mer

  • Day 5: Chiang Mai

    23. mai, Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C

    Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second-largest city, is nestled in the mountainous north and draped in charm, spice, and jungle mist. It’s famous across the country for its incredible food scene—and let me tell you, it lives up to the hype. Last night, we dove into a street food tour, and it was a flavor explosion: sweet, spicy, salty, and everything in between. Once again, wish I had more stomachs.

    But today, it was time to swap chopsticks for boots and explore the great outdoors.

    Our first stop? An elephant sanctuary with serious heart. Elephants have played a huge role in Thailand’s history—from royal war companions to forest workers. Now, in peacetime and retirement, many live out their days in sanctuaries like the one we visited, where love and bananas are in plentiful supply.

    We met a 7-month-old baby who was too cute for words, a very pregnant mama (a surprise pregnancy, oops!), and an 83-year-old grandma elephant who moved with the slow grace of someone who’s seen it all. We got to feed them, then joined them for a bath—which basically turned into an elephant splash party. Spoiler: they love water even more than we do.

    Next came a dip in a natural pool beneath a lush waterfall—cool, clear, and oh-so-refreshing. Then things got wild: we were herded onto the back of a pickup truck like jungle-faring cattle and dropped off at a bamboo rafting spot. Picture this: eight poles of bamboo, roped together, floating us down a river with our butts halfway submerged.

    The rafting crew? Two local teens—one clearly a pro, the other… still learning. The trainee managed to fall into the river three times and even lost his pole at one point. We couldn’t stop laughing (while low-key holding onto the raft for dear life). Still, thanks to our front-rower with sun-bleached hair and surprising skill, we made it through the rapids like champs.

    As we floated downriver, we passed towering coconut trees, wildflowers bursting in color, and even a guy casually riding an elephant through the jungle. Chiang Mai’s magic is real. Today was equal parts hilarious, heartwarming, and unforgettable.
    Les mer

  • Day 6: Chiang Mai

    24. mai, Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C

    Today was a marathon—left the hotel at 7 AM, got back just before 10 PM, and squeezed in more temples, art, and geography than most people see in a week. But what a ride!

    First stop: the White Temple (Wat Rong Khun). Let’s just say: if Elsa from Frozen designed a Buddhist temple, this would be it. Gleaming white marble, sparkling mirror fragments, and spires that practically pierce the sky—it was blindingly bright and utterly jaw-dropping. Created by a visionary Thai artist, the temple is still a work in progress, and honestly, it’s more sculpture garden than monastery.

    Inside, things get even wilder. The murals? Besides your usual serene Buddha, there are Marvel superheroes, Michael Jackson, Kung Fu Panda, and even the International Space Station, all mingling in some sort of cosmic enlightenment. It’s as if your childhood action figure collection found nirvana. Sadly, no photos allowed—but trust me, it’s seared into memory forever.

    Second stop: the Blue Temple (Wat Rong Suea Ten). Built by a student of the White Temple’s creator, this smaller but equally bold temple is, yes, entirely blue. Deep royal blues, electric blues, celestial blues—it’s like walking into a dream painted with stardust. And that ceiling? Instagram would have a meltdown if photos could do it justice.

    Third stop: the Black House (Baan Dam). This one took a sharp turn into dark and broody. Designed by the teacher of the White Temple’s artist, this place is less temple, more gothic bachelor pad. The vibe? Viking longhouse meets Thai jungle shaman. Animal bones, skins, and an unexpected number of phallic sculptures litter the property like relics of some primal ritual. Let’s just say: this artist was deeply in touch with his masculine energy.

    Final stop: the legendary Golden Triangle—where Thailand, Laos, and Myanmar meet, and where the opium trade once reigned supreme. Back in the day, this was the Wild East—a hotbed of smugglers and warlords. Today? The Laos side is being turned into a glittery casino playground by a Chinese businessman with a 90-year lease (seriously), while Myanmar’s side remains frozen in time due to ongoing unrest. It’s a surreal mix of history, development, and political tension—but totally fascinating.
    Les mer

  • Day 7:

    25. mai, Thailand ⋅ 🌧 25 °C

    We woke up to the sound of heavy rain drumming on the windows—finally, the monsoon made its grand entrance! But with nothing scheduled this morning, we pulled the covers back up and thanked the rain gods for their excellent timing. So far, we hadn’t had to open our umbrellas once—an impressive feat for monsoon season!

    After a whirlwind of sightseeing days, today was a much-needed breather. I treated myself to a blissful facial that left me glowing like a dewy mango under a Thai sunrise.

    Our one big plan for the day? A Thai cooking class on a lush little farm. Picture rows of vibrant herbs and veggies looking like they just stepped out of a health magazine. We were greeted not only by fresh basil and lemongrass but also by the farm’s unlikely mascots: Josh and Sara, two very chill snapping turtles. No, they’re not ingredients—just green-onion-loving reptiles who stole the show!

    Here’s where I pat myself on the back: I splurged a few extra bucks to cook in the air-conditioned kitchen. Best. Decision. Ever. While others were sweating it out over sizzling woks in the tropical steam, we had a breezy, private cooking class. Luxury meets culinary school!

    We each picked three dishes to whip up from a generous menu. Everything was beautifully prepped in little dishes like a Thai version of “Chopped.” We ground our own curry paste with heavy mortar and pestles—feeling like real chefs—and made Thai iced tea that could cure any trace of jet lag. And the best part? No clean-up duties!

    To our absolute delight, we stumbled upon the Chiang Mai Pride Parade—and what a dazzling surprise it was! A joyful explosion of color, love, and celebration right in the heart of the city. At the entrance, a stage lit up with the graceful beauty of traditional Thai dance, mesmerizing the crowd.

    But the true showstoppers? The fabulous Drag Queens draped in stunning Thai costumes—elegant, radiant, and serving pure royal energy! It was glam meets culture in the most fabulous way possible.

    And just when we thought it couldn’t get more heartwarming, we witnessed something unforgettable: two Thai men getting married in front of the cheering crowd. The love, the joy, the sparkle—it was impossible not to get swept up in it. Love was absolutely in the air, and Chiang Mai was glowing with pride.
    Les mer

  • Day 8: Pai

    26. mai, Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C

    If you talk to literally any Thai person about Pai, they’ll hit you with the same warning: “The road is so twisty that it will challenge your stomach!” Even locals admit to losing their lunch on those dizzying mountain switchbacks. But me? I came prepared and outsmarted the road.

    Rather than gambling on a motion-sickness roulette with a bus and a speed-happy driver, I booked a private taxi like the travel genius I am. And when I say I was ready for battle, I mean armed to the teeth: motion sickness pills, a stylish little puke bag (just in case), a wrist zapper that sends out low-frequency electric shocks like it’s tuning into anti-nausea radio, and a magical-smelling oil bottle our Thai guides swear by.

    Plot twist: I used none of them. Our driver was a gentle wizard of the winding road, gracefully navigating the madness at a calming, tourist-friendly pace. I felt so relaxed that I even fell asleep—through most of 762 curves.

    Pai itself is a little jewel tucked into the mountains, a dreamy escape for backpackers and serenity seekers alike. Our resort is tucked between emerald green farm fields, with the mountains rising in the distance like a postcard come to life. From our window: cows casually wandering, farmers tending to their land, and delicate wisps of mist floating lazily halfway up the mountains. It’s straight-up cinematic.

    The afternoon was pure bliss—a private pool session with no one else around. Just us, the water, the silence, and that sweet feeling of having discovered a hidden corner of paradise in the off-season.
    Les mer

  • Day 9: Pai

    27. mai, Thailand ⋅ 🌧 23 °C

    Well, the rain gods finally found us—and of course, they chose the worst possible day to catch up.

    Our alarms went off at the ungodly hour of 3 AM so we could be picked up at 4 and watch the sunrise from a mountaintop at 5. But guess what? No sunrise. Just rain. Buckets of it. Luckily, Pai doesn’t disappoint—even when the sun ghosts you. We found refuge in a charming coffee shop perched on the ridge, sipping hot chocolate and Thai-style omelet-over-rice while staring into a dreamy valley where mist floated lazily between the hills. Honestly, it felt like a scene from a Studio Ghibli film.

    Next up: cave adventure! Or… partial cave adventure. Thanks to the swollen river, two out of three caves were off-limits, and rafting was a no-go. But plot twist: that made the experience even better. With no crowds in sight, we had the third cave all to ourselves—like some kind of Indiana Jones VIP experience.

    We followed an elderly Thai lady into the pitch-black cave, her lantern swinging as the only source of light. Between the flickering shadows, the echo of dripping water, and the constant shrieks of bats above our heads, it felt like we had walked into the opening scene of a horror movie. Honestly, I was half-expecting a ghost monk to appear. But what we got was better: our guide pointing out formations that looked like monkeys, teeth, UFOs, and other charming oddities, all with the kind of whimsy you can’t script. No floodlights. No railings. Just a raw, magical cave and one lantern.

    The afternoon? Total rest mode. We collapsed back at the resort and spent hours just lounging, listening to the rain, and enjoying the peaceful hum of Pai’s countryside.

    Later, we ventured out to the Pai night market… which turned out to be less “cultural experience” and more “backpacker party zone.” Picture: college spring break, but with Chang beer instead of margaritas. We dodged through the crowd of bleary-eyed twenty-somethings long enough to grab some delicious street food, then made a tactical retreat. One tasty skewer and done!

    Not every day needs to be Insta-perfect. Sometimes, the best memories come wrapped in fog and lit by a lantern.
    Les mer

  • Day 10: Pai

    29. mai, Thailand ⋅ 🌧 22 °C

    Today was an all-out adventure—a private tour that promised seven incredible stops across Northern Thailand. Spoiler: it delivered.

    We began the day at the Long Neck Karen Village, home to refugees from Myanmar who were forced to leave everything behind due to civil war. When we arrived, the streets were eerily quiet—no other tourists in sight, just rows of stalls and women in traditional brass neck rings patiently waiting behind tables of handmade goods. The air felt heavy with sadness, the kind that lingers in silence. It was impossible not to be moved. So I opened my wallet and bought more souvenirs than I could carry. Haggling felt out of the question—how could I bargain with someone who’s already lost so much?

    Next up was the Su Tong Pae Bamboo Bridge, a poetic stretch of handwoven bamboo crossing over lush rice fields like something out of a dream. The bridge led us to a quiet temple, and as we walked, the fields rippled in the breeze, the only sound the soft creak of bamboo beneath our feet. A gentle, grounding moment.

    From there, we climbed to the hilltop temple of Wat Phrathat, where the views were straight out of a painting. Mountains faded into the distance like watercolor, the sky was decorated with dramatic clouds, and far below lay a quiet town with a tiny airport. We could even see into Myanmar—a hazy, powerful reminder of how close and connected these lands are. The temple itself radiated peace, the kind that makes you want to just sit, breathe, and stare forever.

    Then came the Fish Cave. On paper, it sounded tranquil. Sacred fish living in harmony with nature? Sounds lovely. In reality? Pure chaos. The moment a tourist tossed in some food, the water exploded into a fishy frenzy—hundreds of them flopping over each other in a splashy, slippery riot. It was hilarious, slightly horrifying, and completely unforgettable.

    After that, we made a quick stop at a nearby waterfall, where the mist cooled our faces and the roar of the water reminded us just how alive this region is.

    But the crown jewel of the day? Ban Rak Thai. This hidden gem of a village was founded by Chinese soldiers after World War II, and is often called the most beautiful village in Thailand. Honestly, I get it. A serene lake sat at its center, framed by hills and buildings with unmistakable Chinese architecture. The rain was gentle, adding a soft, cinematic feel to the whole place. And lunch? Oh my. After days of Thai spice, we were treated to a feast of authentic Yunnan Chinese dishes that warmed the soul and filled our bellies.

    Just when we thought the day had peaked, our final stop brought us to Pang Ung Lake, a small alpine jewel nestled right along the Myanmar border. The water was glassy and still, mirroring the surrounding pine forest. Two swans glided across the surface like royalty, completely undisturbed—until a local dog came bounding down the bank. It trotted right up to the water’s edge, tail wagging, and stared at the swans with the kind of curious fascination only dogs can pull off. The swans paused, stared back, and for a brief moment, there was a wordless exchange—a peace summit between species.

    It was the perfect end to a long, unforgettable day.
    Les mer

  • Day 12: Ao Nang

    30. mai, Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 29 °C

    Day 12: Ao Nang

    This was the day I had circled on my mental calendar ever since we started planning this trip—and it absolutely delivered!

    We chartered our own long-tail boat for a private island-hopping adventure—seven islands in one glorious day! Sure, the 5 AM wake-up call was brutal, but trust me, the early start was worth every bleary-eyed yawn.

    By 6:30 AM, we reached our first island. The sun had just peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with soft pinks and oranges, while silver linings traced the clouds like nature’s own highlighter. The beach was still asleep—completely empty except for a few workers gently sweeping leaves from the sand. It felt like we had stumbled into a dream—or at least the opening scene of a movie where the characters are about to uncover a long-lost treasure.

    Two towering karst formations stood just offshore, like ancient stone gatekeepers guarding the peace of the island. With no other tourists in sight, we claimed the entire beach as our own. And so began our journey through paradise, one island at a time. The entire morning felt like we were sailing through a dream. Each of the five stops gave us our own slice of paradise: no crowds, no noise, just us and nature doing its thing. One highlight was a magical lagoon with water so clear it looked like glass. We waded in and spotted starfish lounging on the sandy bottom like they owned the place.

    And just when we started thinking, “Wow, I could use a drink,” our captain casually pulled out a tray of perfectly cut fresh fruit: watermelon and pineapple, served right on the boat like we were royalty on a floating resort. Peak.

    But paradise doesn’t stay hidden forever.

    As we approached island number six around noon, something felt… off. Twenty or more boats were bobbing in the bay, and our peaceful rhythm hit a wall of selfie sticks and loud guided tours. On shore, we navigated through the crowd, grabbed some ice cream, and found a quiet-ish patch of shade to people-watch as group after group lined up for buffet lunches. We looked at each other, silently thanking our past selves for booking a private tour.

    Then came island number seven: chaos incarnate. Thanks to rising water from the rainy season, the beach had shrunk into a tiny strip of sand, now overrun by what tourists. At least 50 people were crammed together, elbow to elbow, trying to claim space on what used to be a beach.

    “Nope,” we said. “Hard pass.”

    Our captain, absolute legend that he is, nodded and took us somewhere off the map—a secret little bay with calm waters, not a soul in sight. He handed us snorkeling gear like a magician pulling a dove from his sleeve. We dove in and found ourselves surrounded by coral, fish, and silence. The perfect ending to our day of island-hopping.

    Final verdict? If you’re planning this adventure, do yourself a favor: book a private tour, wake up early, and claim the islands before the crowds even know what’s happening. Worth every baht.
    Les mer