When you go to another country and see so many beautiful things, you really start to wonder why there aren't so many breathtaking scenes in the place you came from or even the city. In my case, that city is London and Chiang Mai almost makes me bitter about the run down buildings and vast amounts of grey that greet me on a day to day basis.
"I wish we'd conserved more of what London used to be," a quiet utterance that seemed to float away with the wind. After all, in comparison to the glittering pathways of the temple I was walking through, the statement was completely insignificant.
I think it's safe to say that this is what dreams are made of. The exotic backdrops to glamourous movies and the Utopian escapes that plague our minds when we should be contemplating wholly more boring topics. I say plague because thinking of these places can only lead to a lack of productivity when it is needed the most.
Today I visited two of the great temples in Chiang Mai. I have never seen so much gold in my life.
"Surely it's paint," one of us remarked but without a response. Who could be sure?
Well, there is one thing I am certain of - the song 7 Bottles didn't leave my head for a second today. Could it be a sign?