25 November 2024 A Day of Feathered Divas, Stone Elephants, and a Bridge’s Midlife Crisis We kicked off the morning with a breezy farewell to the NP Hotel, our trusty Toyota Fortuner pointed toward Roi-Et. The open road beckoned, but not before a quick pitstop at PTT for fuel and the obligatory Café Amazon photo op—because if you don’t document your caffeine pitstops, did you even road trip? 
The day’s adventures unfolded like a quirky Thai soap opera. 
First up: Wat Rahan, a temple where peacocks strutted with the confidence of runway models, their iridescent feathers shimmering in the sunlight. 
They owned the place, and they knew it. (Note to self: Peacocks are the ultimate flexers of the animal kingdom.) 
Next, we stumbled upon Wat Pa Jiang, an elephant-themed temple where stone pachyderms stood guard like ancient sentinels. It felt like walking onto the set of Jumanji: Temple Edition, minus the chaos—unless you count Alison’s attempt to mimic an elephant trumpet. (Spoiler: It sounded more like a kazoo.) 
Between temples, we squeezed in another Café Amazon stop—because Thailand’s highways are basically a caffeine conveyor belt. By mid-afternoon, we faced the Mae Kae Dam Bridge, a rickety relic over Nong Kai Dam that seemed to sigh, “I’ve had enough.” Half-collapsed and thoroughly defeated, it was less “bridge” and more “modern art installation about decay.” 
We saluted its effort and moved on. By 3:30 p.m., we rolled into the Bed Hotel Roi-Et—a cozy haven with beds that didn’t judge our snack-stuffed backpacks. 
Eager to stretch our legs, we wandered to the Thung Chareon Fresh Markets, where dinner options ranged from “mysterious” to “nope, not today.” Instead, we retreated to the Him Kong Café next door, where fried rice, stir-fried pork, and basil-laced dishes hit the spot. Washed down with a crisp beer, it was the perfect end to a day of oddities. 
26 November 2024: Lakeside Serenity, KFC Armies, and Sunset Magic in Roi-Et The day began with a morning stroll through Somdet Phra Srinagarindra Park, a green oasis in the heart of Roi-Et. Picture this: a shimmering lake, a quaint walking bridge leading to Bueng Planchi Island, and the iconic Roi Et Tower looming in the distance like a giant bamboo panpipe reaching for the sky. 
We ambled along the lakeside path, snapping photos of lotus blooms, snoozing turtles, and the tower’s reflection rippling in the water. (Spoiler: We did not break a sweat. This was “exercise” disguised as a photoshoot.) By lunchtime, hunger (and curiosity) led us to Robinson Mall, where KFC became the unlikely star of the show. 
As we munched on crispy chicken, we witnessed an army squad roll in and haul away what looked like enough buckets to feed a battalion. We’re talking stacks taller than Steve’s caffeine tolerance. Note to self: Never challenge Thai soldiers to a fried chicken eating contest. We also love to check out the price of Tim Tams where ever we are – these beauties are less than Jurien Bay cost by far at approx $5 Aud 
The afternoon was all about R&R at the hotel—because even adventurers need naps. But as the sun dipped low, we returned to the lake, now transformed into a twilight wonderland. The Roi Et Tower glowed like a golden beacon, the water mirrored the pastel sky, and the entire scene felt plucked from a postcard. Cue the Instagram frenzy. 
Dinner called for a repeat visit to Him Kong Café, where we devoured another round of chicken fried rice, stir-fried pork, and basil-packed dishes—because why fix what isn’t broken? Topped off with a crisp Chang beer, it was the perfect toast to a day that blended serenity, spectacle, and a lot of fried chicken. 27 November 2024: Sakon Nakhon, Staircases, and the Eternal Quest for Snacks We said “see ya later” to the Bed Hotel and pointed the Toyota north toward Sakon Nakhon, a town that’s equal parts serene and surprising—like a monk who secretly loves karaoke. 
First up: Wat Phra Maha Chedi Chai Mongkhon, aka the “101 Temple” (because it is 101 metres High, wide and broad). While the temple itself is a glittering masterpiece, it’s also in a perpetual state of glow-up, with rooms still to be filled and walkways still receiving their coat of gold paint. 
Tradition demanded we haul ourselves up the steep, narrow staircase to the chedi’s peak. Steve wheezed, “Why do we do this?!” while Alison countered, “Views, baby, views!” And she wasn’t wrong—mountain view quilted the horizon, and distant mountains nodded at us like sleepy giants. 
By 2:30 p.m., we collapsed into Mali House, our Sakon Nakhon sanctuary. The afternoon was a blur of air-con worship, suspiciously loud ceiling fans, and Googling “how to revive spaghetti legs.” Come evening, hunger (and a craving for chaos) dragged us to Big C Supercentre. The food hall was a symphony of sizzling woks and questionable English translations. We ate pad thai so good it made us forget about the staircase trauma—almost. Then, because no day is complete without a side of “what’s that smell?,” we wandered into a local night market. Stalls overflowed with grilled squid, mangoes dressed like they’re headed to a gala, and desserts that probably violate several health codes. We resisted the urge to buy a bucket of fried crickets (Steve’s idea of “protein”) and settled for people-watching instead. Highlight: A vendor selling neon-colored drinks that glowed like they were radioactive. Pass. 
Back at Mali House, we flopped onto beds that felt like clouds (or maybe our legs just gave up). Sakon Nakhon, you’re a quiet charmer with a temple that’s always leveling up. Tomorrow? More adventures, fewer stairs. Maybe. 28 November 2024: A Spectacular Parade, Lotus Hunting, and Unexpected Encounters The morning began with coffee and Weet-Bix in our room, the breakfast of champions (or at least the breakfast of people who can’t be bothered to put on pants). By 8:30 a.m., we were out the door, greeted by Sakon Nakhon’s crisp morning air that made walking feel effortless. 
Then—magic happened. Photos of School Sports Day Turning a corner, we stumbled upon an incredible parade. This wasn’t just any school event—this was a full-blown spectacle featuring everyone in the most creative, elaborate costumes, moving with precision and flair. The American-style marching band had brass sections gleaming in the sun, drumlines that made our hearts race, and an energy that could power a small city. Students moved in perfect formation, their coordinated outfits telling stories through color and design. We stood transfixed as teachers, noticing our awe, waved us closer to witness the spectacle properly. 
The school principal told us it was the Municipal School 4 ‘State of State’ and Secondary School 3 ‘Jutithamavithaya’. Also on show was the Melodica band’s performance was so polished, so electric, it felt more like a Broadway warm-up than a school rehearsal. We snapped photos until our camera begged for mercy. We thanked the head mistress for including us in their celebration and left with huge smiles of what we had witnessed. Thank you. 
Post-parade, we floated through the rest of the morning—pausing to buy handmade coffee cups from a local artisan, wandering Big C in a daze (too early for lunch, too enchanted to care). Eventually, hunger won, and we drove to Robinson’s for Pad Thai and crispy chicken so perfect it snapped us back to reality. 
The afternoon took us to the big white Naga statue and lotus lake, where the flowers played hard-to-get with our cameras under the harsh noon sun. Back at the hotel, we collapsed into a happy exhaustion, only to rally for a KFC dinner (when in Thailand…). 
The night’s final act? A fascinating chat with two American Jehovah’s Witness missionaries during our walk home—exchanging travel stories and cultural observations under the streetlights. Photos of School Sports Day
29 November 2024: Meandering Through Sakon Nakhon’s Oddball Charm
The morning unfolded lazily, as mornings should. We ambled through Sakon Nakhon’s backstreets, where life moved at the pace of a snoozing cat. Motorbikes puttered past shops selling everything from spark plugs to spirit houses, each storefront its own little universe.
A woman hacked open a coconut with terrifying precision, while next door, a tailor pedaled an ancient sewing machine like her life depended on it.
At some point we remembered we had a car. The Toyota waited patiently, as Toyotas do. First stop: Wat Ban Na Oi, where a golden Buddha sat smugly atop the temple, surveying the countryside like a contented landlord. The grounds were littered with rainbow-colored nagas and random art pieces – the kind of place where you half-expect a gnome to wink at you.
Then came the turtles. Oh, the turtles. The Bun Phaya Tao Ngoi Bridge led us to a park celebrating the Giant Floating Turtle legend, which is exactly as wonderfully bizarre as it sounds.
A massive turtle statue held court, flanked by nagas who looked like they’d bitten off more than they could chew. Smaller turtles lurked everywhere – in bushes, near benches, probably in the toilets. At a market stall, Alison became emotionally attached to an Amazon-branded t-shirt (because global capitalism meets Isaan spirituality is apparently a look now).
What lipstick on a dog – I can say no more about this. LOLOLOLOL
The afternoon dissolved into one of those perfect travel moments – windows down, music up, following random roads just to see where they’d take us. Rice fields stretched to infinity. A lone farmer waved like we were old friends. The world felt wide open.
By evening we were back at Big C, shoveling pad kra pao into our faces with the dignity of starved hyenas. Somewhere between the chili fumes and a particularly aggressive ice cube, it hit me: this is why we travel. Not for the big sights, but for the small, strange moments that stick to your ribs.
