March 31, 2026

I should have felt adequately rested, but now that I have been struck with the bane of my existence, the humble cold, I need to take the morning in stride, and that repeatedly lying down to ensure that I am not overly exerting my body. I remain calm for stretches, then erupt again in coughing, although the coughing doesn’t seem to penetrate into my chest — God forbid this becomes bronchitis! But that is unlikely, given that the worse enemy of my health is the perpetual dark, damp cold that I recently escaped from — definitely not to be found at this time of year in Thailand!

For all I travel, I am a terrible travel planner, and tend to rush into the day’s activities without much forethought. I had been too scattered and distracted in the months preceding my departure to think too deeply about my travel plans, and so now, looking more closely at the activities available for my three day stay in Korat, realize that there really isn’t much to do. I may actually have an extra day on my hands, although this would hardly constitute much of a crisis for most. Perhaps it is appropriate, given that I need to rest and get rid of my cold …

I should begin the day exploring the centre of which I got a taste of yesterday, focusing on the rectangle of real estate enclosed by canals that defines the old town, although consistent with the lacklustre nature of Thai cities, I will find that beyond the obligatory temples, there is little in the line of historic or memorable architecture. But there are nonetheless attractions, however incidental, and I could best motivate myself by beginning the day’s exploration in some fashionable local coffee house.

The unusually-named Loftster Art Gallery Café along the southwestern boundary of the core area is completely at odds with the generally drab aesthetics of the neighborhood, the interior as stylish and imaginative as anything you could expect in any of Thailand’s innumerable fashionable coffee houses — and the bar is very high! The two-story establishment is largely open-concept, the walls lined with unfinished wood paneling over which is layered a grid of colourful art work alternating with racks displaying collections of old cameras, the space illuminated with moody overhead and shelf lighting.

Customers can sit on tall stools along the narrow wood counters or in the array of small tables arranged in the cafe’s limited open space. The counter at which the coffee and other drinks are prepared in is also limited in size, but the coffee is quite good; in general, given the production of quality coffee beans in the north of Thailand, quality coffee houses are assured to offer exceptional coffee, in terms of the beans, their processing, roasting, and preparation of the beverage, but never as impeccable as in that of some the neighboring countries. But Thailand has a long-standing coffeehouse culture that is second to none in East Asia.

Across the narrow road, the towering wihan (assembly hall) of Wat Sra Kaew, its cream walls lined with regularly-spaced red doors embellished with gilt finery, and crowned with the pagoda-shaped Sum Prasat pediments. The structure is crowned with a steeply pitched, multi-tiered roof whose red-tiled core is enclosed in concentric bands of yellow and green, the roof edges punctuated by regularly-spaced finials. The facades of the temple’s structures are heavily embellished with intricate gold floral designs featuring occasional representations of Buddha, the specific symbology of the decorative features elusive. The rainbow of colour of the temple structures is complimented by the radiant yellows of the curtains of flowers of the Golden Shower trees whose presence will anchor the six weeks I spend traveling in the Isan.

“Wat Sa Kaeo was originally built around 1677 during the reign of King Narai the Great and is counted as one of the six original temples positioned along the ancient city walls. The temple is named after the neighboring pond that was traditionally used in vital state ceremonies such as the Water of the Oath of Allegiance. The ordination hall houses an ancient Sukhothai-style Buddha image in the Mara-Vijaya posture alongside revered Ayutthaya-period portable images. It also has deep historical ties to the local heroine Thao Suranari (Ya Mo), who helped maintain the grounds during her lifetime.” (from Wikipedia)

The neighboring park is nothing more than a set of narrow walkways lining a huge square-shaped pond which on this quiet midday attracts no more than a few determined boys equipped with fishing rods who are unquestionably in their element. Wandering towards the centre of the canal-enclosed area, I pass by a continuous stream of small shops, the occasional employee or owner greeting me with broad smiles, the overarching sensibility one of homeliness and domestic comfort, and the pace unhurried. It doesn’t take much time outside to realize why the pace is unhurried, although it baffles me how locals can be so heavily dressed in such intense heat.

At the core of the old city lies the City Pillar, believed to house the guardian spirit of the town, and this one serves as a focal point of religious devotion for residents of Korat and surrounding areas. Despite its apparent significance, the shrine is quite small, although it serves as a pristine Buddhist-styled architectural artifact in the face of a somewhat drab urban environment. More majestic is the Wat Phra Narai Maharat temple immediately to the east, the entrance to which is marked by a soaring golden stupa, visible across the skyline of the town centre.

Despite being similar in style to the Thai Buddhist temple canon, this particular temple has a remarkable feeling, possibly due to nuanced manners in which architectural details are balanced, colour schemes, the arrangement of the buildings over the temple grounds, and the juxtaposition of the gold-washed structures with the Golden Shower trees. The regularly-sequenced orange portals on the pavilions are flanked with relatively simple golden columns and Sum Prasat pediments, the gables embellished with gilt floral motifs against a pale blue backdrop, the roof edges bristling with tightly-knit naga finials. Statues of elaborately-carved nagas coated in fading blue and gold flank the entrance of the wihan.

I meander through the leafy grounds replete with elegant icons of varying sizes and styles, but then need to take advantage of the abundant seating and shade in an attempt to escape the intense heat. I am the only foreign visitor in sight – in fact, I will only meet a few foreigners in Korat over the time I spend in the charming city. Local women heavily clad in clothing and protective bonnets lounge on the seats with their oversized straw brooms while a few vendors patiently wait for anyone to purchase cold drinks from them. I can only imagine the elaborate ceremonial processions that must take place in such a beautiful enclave, but now it feels largely abandoned.

The crowning feature lies to the east side of the temple grounds, a towering and unusually-decorated vihara dominating a small island in a lagoon. The entire canopy of the structure is clad in elaborately-carved naturally-stained wood. The ostentatious architecture contrasts starkly with the young, saffron-clad monks awkwardly maneuvering a cart laden with ceramic vessels along the dirt path running along the bank of the lagoon, onto the bridge to the vihara. On the south side of the water lies the cream-coloured San Phra Narayana pavilion housing statues of Lord Vishnu and Lord Ganesha.

“Wat Phra Narai Maharat is a revered third-class royal Buddhist temple that was built during the Ayutthaya period under the royal decree of King Narai the Great (A.D. 1656 – 1688), credited with establishing the layout of modern Korat. This temple was utilized for the sacred ‘Water of Allegiance’ ceremony, where provincial officials swore loyalty to the king. The temple originally housed the monument containing the ashes of Thao Suranari (Ya Mo), Korat’s iconic 19th-century heroine before they were relocated to the nearby Chumphon Gate. The ordination hall (Ubosot) sits on a small island within a lotus pond, flanked by blue seven-headed Nagas along the staircase.

Unique for a Theravada Buddhist temple, the temple features a small Hindu shrine housing three ancient, holy Khmer sandstone sculptures of Lord Vishnu (Phra Narai). This blending of faiths explains the temple’s name, which translates to ‘Temple of the Great King Narai / Lord Vishnu’. The central assembly hall is renowned as the largest Royal Vihara in Northeast Thailand (Isan). It enshrines a colossal, sacred seated Buddha image named Phra Thotsaphon Yanprathan Barami. The tranquil surrounding pond is famously populated by many turtles and giant Asian water monitor lizards that often sunbathe on the temple’s stone foundations.” (Google search)

Beyond this atmospheric enclave, the town unfolding to the east of the temple is considerably more prosaic, a set of single- and two-level buildings housing a variety of modest retail establishments, with few people venturing onto the street, given the intense heat. The majority of these modest establishments are at best fan-cooled. Trudging along the narrow sidewalks, the environment may appear very civil and reasonably organized, but there is little in the line of memorable or historic architecture.

But there are moments of beauty, the rustic simplicity of the few vendors selling food on the roadside from their simple stands, the surprising part for me that there aren’t more, presumably a result of lack of traffic in the area. However prosaic the aesthetics of the urban landscape may be, the towering floral extravaganzas offered by the jacarandas, flamboyant, and Golden Shower trees as well as the Rangoon Creeper vines provide an exquisite counterpoint. On the eastern end of the town core, the canal that encloses the core area opens up to a sprawling lagoon, the rundown buildings flanking the water as regrettable as the calm waters shaded by the flowering tree canopy are seductive.

A few young men try their luck with fishing rods extended out onto the margin of the lagoon, a lone human presence in the punishing afternoon heat, only slightly mitigated by the ample shade of the surrounding ancient trees. The streets are otherwise deserted, a far cry from the crowds of people I witnessed seething through the market stalls yesterday afternoon and evening. Only very occasionally do I spot young people playing rudimentary games outside or assisting their parents, broad, sincere smiles ubiquitous.

The heat may be intense but the sky is unfailingly blue, and at a time where the landscape should be inundated with rain, there has been a surprisingly minimal amount of rain. Huge cumulus clouds are etched against the dome above, the billowing canopies of trees lining the canal providing a degree of welcome cooling shade. Some of the drab walls of the area have been livened up with colourful graffiti and murals, and of course even the most unappealing urban spaces are lent a sense of timeless glamour with the presence of the ubiquitous Buddhist shrines and temples.

From the northwestern corner of the old town, I loop westward along the northern canal, taking in the mundane architecture complimented by the parade of bushy trees that runs alongside. I cross the first available bridge taking me back into the old town, then walk eastward along Yommarat road, looking for any interesting coffee shop or restaurant on the street. Despite the richly-appointed map, the reality on the street is less than compelling.

While much of the cityscape is quite conventional, amid the residential and small-scale commercial tumult an unusual sight becomes visible, that of a seemingly vagrant or homeless older man with a long flowing white beard moping around a rundown storefront whose facade is overgrown with vegetation and littered with innumerable smallish Buddhist and Hindu figurines as well as diverse mannequins and toys, assembled together as an incongruous display of devotion or renegade art exhibition. I could find out more, but the afternoon is already waning, and I want to return to my hotel before it gets too late in the day.

The next challenge is dinner, and that could be in the highly-rated nearby Rabiengkaew restaurant that appears to be a long-standing local institution featuring local specialties. Where some restaurants may suffer from a limited selection of dishes, this heavily wood-paneled locale has such a lengthy and detailed menu I have little idea as to how to proceed. The dishes are also quite expensive, but that may be a reflection of their size (designed for groups to share), quality, and amount of meat they include. In the end my selections reflect some degree of compromise, but they don’t include the house specialties of roast pork, which I am only informed of when I speak with the charming owners afterwards.

On the map, the hypermarket across the main artery to the east the Terminal 2 mall may not be that far away, but at this time of day, exhausted from hours of walking outside in the intense heat and with a full stomach, I find the slog through the grimy back alleys north of the canal depressing and exhausting. All I was looking for in the supermarket was juice and fresh fruit, as I had seen no fruit stands in the old town.

The day now feels stressed and empty as I look around in the darkness at the towering post-apocalyptic concrete monoliths and the general urban decay — but that doesn’t having any bearing on the quality of photographs by which I will later measure the day’s accomplishments …