Why Nan and Phrae are Thailand's best-kept secrets

SKILLS REVIVAL

There’s a feast for the eyes when I head on to Doi Silver Factory. A small museum here displays the precious necklaces and ornamental clothing worn for special occasions by the local Yao hill tribe. In the workshop beyond, no less intricate goods are hand-produced for export, including huge filigree bowls and silver galleons, 70% of them bound for the US. Owner Somchai Rungrachatawanit is the fourth generation of his Yao family to practise silver work and each year he sponsors 10 new people for a three-year apprenticeship.

I’m booked to learn a craft myself at the smart wooden premises of Banmatjai Homemade in Phrae province. Here I follow my host’s instructions to twist a series of elastic bands to skin-pinching tightness across a canvas tote bag, then dip it gingerly into the inky depths of a vat of natural indigo.

Tie-dye workshops are not the only way this family business is reviving a traditional skill. In the hope of enticing a new generation back to the indigo clothing once famous in these parts, graphic design graduate Chidchanok Suchanok works with her pattern maker, Mum Amonpun, to produce more modern styles. The resulting garments are stitched locally and sold in the onsite boutique.

I get another chance to practise my own handiwork at Ban Thung Hong, where even the cat has a tie-dyed bandana. After hearing how indigo is sourced from plants in the surrounding mountains, I twist a scarf into a spiral with a fork as if I’m winding spaghetti. My efforts produce a pleasing starburst effect once my bundle is out of the dye and it’s even better to know my visit is supporting the continuation of a 200-year-old skill. The experts here are Thailand’s foremost producers of the distinctive Mo Hom Indigo fabric, which other craftspeople now buy to create their own fashions and homewares.

I do a double-take when a bowl of blue rice appears at the nearby Hommai Baandin (Earthern House) community kitchen. But yes, it is also dyed with indigo. It accompanies farm-to-fork chicken and some of the freshest vegetable dishes I taste on my trip. As I should expect by now, lunch also comes with a side of entrepreneurship. Since she returned to her home village shortly before the pandemic, the cafe’s founder, a former tourist guide, has also single-handedly revived the local hat-weaving tradition by teaching her elderly neighbours.

DIVINE OFFERINGS

I make my forays to the craft villages of Nan and Phrae provinces from their namesake cities, which prove to be relaxed, leafy bases also worth exploring, the latter with many teakwood houses. Hop-on, hop-off tours in open-sided buses save me from pounding the pavements in the heat. A dawn start also helps when I rise early to give alms to Nan’s Buddhist monks. Pursuing a flash of saffron robes in the streets near the market, I approach, head bowed, with my offering of food and receive a blessing in return. I wonder later if divine intervention is at play when I see a motorcyclist successfully weaving through traffic with an open tray of eggs balanced on one palm.

The cities have many fabulous temples where prayer ribbons flutter in trees and columns are studded with colourful mosaics. Some are guarded by carved Naga, snakes seen as a protective force in Buddhism. At Nan’s eye-poppingly bling Wat Sri Panton the serpents are seven-headed and golden. Phrae’s Wat Pong Sunan ups the game with a giant gilt turtle.

Though new to international visitors, the provinces’ place on the domestic tourism trail is obvious from the Instagram-ready set-ups I encounter. At Yud Wela Cafe in Sapan village, a beanbag-strewn platform overlooks a spectacular valley. At Pua, the riverside Ban Tai Lue Cafe is strung with lanterns and colourful fabrics. The same district’s Phuket Temple has heart-shaped seats framing a view of flame trees and paddy fields.

As for those much-replicated whispering lovers, I track down the originals inside Wat Phumin in Nan. Here they sit in a 19th-century fresco, a cheery contrast to a nearby depiction of an adulterer, with Spacehopper-sized gonads, facing damnation.

No one knows what sweet nothings the couple are whispering, but personally I’m passing on the secret of Nan and Phrae. It’s one that deserves to be shared.