I had fun swimming in the falls in the jungle outside Bangkok, so it was easy to sign up for a similar tour from Krabi. This location was distinguished by the fact that the waterfalls were fed by hot springs! I had never heard of such a thing, and had to experience it first hand. Only, of course, so that I could report on it to you.

The problem with waterfalls is that their romance is undercut by their terrible cost: crisp mountain waters that deliver a cold shower more life-threatening than bracing. As much as I long to stand in the pool directly under the falls and let my soul be cleansed by the healing waters, ouch. I don’t think my soul has ever been properly cleansed while shivering. Thus, my dirty, dirty soul.

Would I be able to live the dream, letting the warm waterfall flow over me in a rhapsody of jungle bliss? Yeah, mostly.

But first, never let it be said that I am unwilling to humiliate myself for your entertainment. Because this tour was my second attempt at the hot springs waterfall, not my first.

One of the big questions many of you had as I embarked on solo travel was, “Is he smart enough to keep himself alive without his Jiminy Cricket?” We now have the answer to that question. Barely. Just barely.

The day before my scheduled tour I went swimming and had lunch at my usual beachside café. I’d been eating pretty native, but decided to treat myself to a comfort burger. I’d barely swallowed the first bite when I felt my stomach churn. “Well, that’s an odd coincidence,” I thought. “It can’t be the burger. That’s way too fast a response for food poisoning. Weird.”

So I finished the burger. Which ended precisely where you’d expect.

The next morning I’m waiting for the van in front of my hotel thinking, “Ooh, I don’t know.” Retching in the bushes was, thankfully, dispositive, and I called it off.

I rescheduled for a couple days later, figuring that should give me enough time to recover, and also because it was the last practical opportunity for me to take a day trip before I left Krabi for Chiang Mai. Once again, I’m waiting for the van downstairs, thinking, “Maybe I shouldn’t.” Which is confusing, because “Maybe I shouldn’t” occurs to me so rarely.

Maybe I shouldn’t, but I did. And it was fine. A little fraught, but fine. Still, you don’t miss your water ’til your well runs dry. I’m certain I’m safer with Jiminy along.

Namtok Ron

Namtok Ron starts with a lovely jungle walk before you reach the hot springs.

There are three distinct areas: the hot spring falls themselves and then two spa pools. The spa pools are filled from the same source, they’re just constructed pools instead of the natural falls.

Each of the three areas is also a completely different temperature. I’m not entirely sure how that works, but the waterfall pool is just a degree below body temperature, and the two spa pools are 104° and 113° (!) respectively. Or simmer, parboil, and rolling boil.

I started with the mildest, the waterfall pool, and discovered that it wasn’t quite what the word “waterfall” evoked. It was more spillway than falls, but it was delightful to cozy up in a stone nook and let the warm waters rush over and around me. Even though it wasn’t what I’d imagined, my inner curmudgeon was wet, warm, and pacified.

My intention had been to do them in ascending intensity, but I got the two spa pools mixed up and went in the 113° first. I was terrified of the last one, thinking that it was going to be even hotter, so I was relieved to find out that it was actually the middle pool.

This was not our first hot springs/hot air adventure, having dipped in Cleopatra’s Pool in Pammukale in Turkey. In that case the air temperature was a near-death 107°, as opposed to Krabi’s ~ 90°. Still, all three pools performed the neat trick of making the air seem cool on exit.

Emerald Pool

Like Namtok Ron, the Emerald Pool is part of the Khao Nor Chu Chi national park, so it was a short drive to our next stop. It started with a buffet lunch of flavorless hot-table food, for which I was profoundly grateful. The last thing I wanted was activity down there.

There were two additional pools besides Emerald: Crystal Pool and Blue Pool. Emerald was the only one of the three that was swimmable, and it was already a full kilometer walk from the entrance. I decided that the additional photo ops weren’t worth the risk. I bobbed in the Emerald Pool, held pretty still, and stayed close to a toilet.

The bobbing was excellent. Emerald Pool was only cool compared to our previous stop. The water temperature was like the beach at Ao Nang, where you could just walk in without that moment when you’re waist deep and you hold your breath and dunk yourself to get it over with quickly. I stayed in for pretty much the full hour we had there, without regrets. Warm water an impossible green. What’s to regret?

Wat Tham Suea

Our last stop was Wat Tham Suea, a temple complex that includes the temple and grounds, a Buddha on the Hill, and Tiger Cave. This didn’t sound as bad as the concentration camp that was added to the Bangkok waterfall tour as enrichment, but it also seemed a little off the mark. Like that Bangkok tour, the bulk of our day was spent swimming and hiking, so sure, toss in a temple. Knock yourself out.

Imagine my surprise (I’ll wait a moment while you do) when it turned out that Wat Tham Suea is one of my favorite temples that we’ve visited. I am going to have to retire the phrase, “The Liberace of churches,” but there’s a reason I keep using it. I’ve used it to describe the Guzman in Oaxaca and the San Cayetano in Guanajuato, and in both cases I was describing a kind of overwrought turducken of architectural ornamentation.

That’s less the case at Wat Tham Suea, which seems almost subtle in comparison, but is still utterly ridiculous in a way that warrants the Liberace callout. I’m prone to clown clothes, so it should be no surprise that architecture of the If-Some-Is-Good-More-Is-Better school would sing to me.

The first and most obvious attraction is the ground level temple. There’s also one up at the top of the mountain that everyone is happy to remind you is 1,260 steps and you’re probably not up to it. That temple is fairly new at about fifty years old, but the one at ground level is so new it’s still being worked on. Unlike Bangkok’s 300 year-old temples, which are just maintained so they look freshly built, Wat Tham Suea legit just opened to the public.

The interior lived up to the exterior’s promise.

I don’t know whether there had been a complex at ground level that had been razed or whether this was all sui generis new construction, but practically the entire site seemed like hard hats should be required. But they weren’t. No tort lawyers!

Where not under construction, the grounds offered ample eye candy.

Stairway to Heaven

I obviously wasn’t going to assay the 1,260 steps to the summit. Had I been tempted, the signs to that route were labeled Mountaineer, so yeah, no.

This warning was at the very foot of the steps.

While I didn’t see any monkeys (I think they’re mostly on the path to the summit) I kept a weather eye out for the little bandits. No one wants their stuff snalched. Least of all by thrieving monkeys.

And before you’re all, “It’s insensitive to mock people for making typos in a foreign language,” I will submit to you that if I made a sign in Thai and it contained errors, Thai speakers would be fully within their rights to mock me. I would even say that they were obliged to do so. And I would join them heartily.

Our guide, by the way, offered a long list of things we weren’t supposed to do with the monkeys. “Do not feed them, fight them, eat them, or Thai box them.” Among others. Those are the admonitions that stuck with me, at least, probably because they seemed the most important to remember.

Tiger Cave

Tiger Cave is several distinct features. The first is this antechamber, before you reach Tiger Cave itself. I’m not sure about the vintage of these pieces. I suspect they’re closer to the fifty years of the summit Buddha than the just-unwrapped temple, as the site itself doesn’t have any significant history prior to Big Buddha.

Then there’s Tiger Cave itself. There are conflicting stories about why it’s called Tiger Cave. One has the monk who founded the temple in 1975 entering the caves to meditate only to find tigers roaming about. Which I would find an impediment to meditation, but that’s why I’m not a monk. That and the vows of chastity and poverty. Please comment below: Top ten reasons Mark isn’t a monk.

Another explanation is that there are tiger paw prints on the cave walls. Another is that tigers roamed those caves long before a monk found them in the 70s. However it got it’s name, Tiger Cave presents as the world’s weirdest gift shop.

The cave system is all throughout the mountain that holds the Buddha, but only parts of it are accessible. Getting to the backside of the caves requires walking around the base of the mountain and taking some steps. Quite a few less than 1,260. 137 steps up, 89 down, 25 up, and 12 down. I counted, because I hadn’t spilled any matches, so there was nothing else to do.

It’s not clear exactly what’s on the other side. This did not clarify matters.

I think it was referring to this?

I sat on a bench and waited for this photo. I think this is the best picture I’ve ever taken. It’s certainly my favorite.

There truly wasn’t much else behind Tiger Cave. Caves and Buddhas. Go figure.

137 steps down wasn’t so bad.

And that was the end of an epic day. I hiked, I swam, I sight saw, I took several long bus rides, and I did not shit myself! You define victory however you like. I’m taking the W.