One of the most revered figures in Thai history, Naresuan is beloved in northern Thailand, which suffered heavily at the hands of the Burmese.
This history lesson came at the start of an eight-day road trip through the region: a 720km (447-mile) loop from Chiang Mai past national parks, a haunted canyon, a fluorescent cave, the remains of an ancient kingdom, a quaint town of teak architecture and a horrifying garden of death.
Rather than taking the touristy Mae Hong Son Loop west from Chiang Mai, we follow a low-profile route to the east.
There are very few famous attractions on the road from Chiang Mai to Chiang Dao, Pa Ngio, Phayao, Nan, Phrae and Lampang, which means we explore any and every site we come across. That includes the Naresuan monument, which looms above the road from Chiang Mai to Chiang Dao, and the nearby complex dedicated to something far less regal: animal faeces.
Elephant Poopoopaper Park is cloaked in forest, 15km north of downtown Chiang Mai. Many tourists to northern Thailand visit elephant sanctuaries, to bathe and feed the massive creatures, yet few would know that elephant dung is such a versatile material.
For centuries Thai farmers have used it as a potent fertiliser. Now, eco-conscious entrepreneurs at this park are turning elephant, cow, horse, donkey and buffalo poo into paper products.
During a guided tour of the site, which has a gift shop, landscaped gardens and signposted walking trail, we learn that those animals have very fibrous dung, which after being dried can be processed into paper, helping to save trees.
Things get even stranger an hour north, in Chiang Dao, where I see a naked woman riding a cactus. Naturally, I stop the car to investigate.
The statue can be seen from the road through the wide entrance to the Wat Mae Ead temple. Beyond, in the Buddhist temple’s Purgatory Sculpture Garden, or “Hell Garden”, are far more grisly sights: corpses being sawn in half, spears puncturing human skulls, flesh hanging off skeletal torture victims.
The ghoulish artworks, a sign explains, represent the nightmare that faces Buddhists who break the religion’s moral code. What makes it even more jarring is that, mere metres away, inside Wat Mae Ead, sits a serene hall decorated by colourful wind chimes and flanked by cute, cartoonish statues of Buddhist monks.
Chiang Dao itself is characterised by densely forested mountains and foothills embellished by peaceful villages, dramatic viewpoints, rustic cafes, boutique hotels, gilded Buddhist temples, soothing hot spas and a wildlife sanctuary.
Some of those temples cling to peaks, like Wat Tham Pha Plong, which I reach via a vista-rich, 20-minute ascent up hundreds of steps.
I need to descend to enter nearby Wat Tham Chiang Dao. I duck stalactites to get a clear view of its shrine, buried within a cave inside Chiang Dao mountain.
The following day, our 152km drive to the tiny town of Pa Ngio takes far longer than expected, at nearly five hours. This is partly because we stop so frequently to absorb the natural majesty; partly because the curling, mountainside roads are bumpy and intimidating; and partly because I am so wary of Thai roads that I drive below the speed limit.
The next day, we pierce jungle-draped valleys and lofty mountain passes on an 80-minute drive to Phayao.
Hugging the eastern edge of Lake Phayao, the town is a muted provincial capital of about 20,000 people, small markets, historic temples and a waterfront boulevard. The latter is lined by parks, monuments, cafes and restaurants serving fish caught in the 20-square-kilometre freshwater lake, one of the largest in Thailand.
From Phayao, a three-hour drive past numerous peaks, rice paddies and farming villages lands us in Nan. Also a provincial capital, and similar in size to Phayao, Nan has a prestigious past. For more than 500 years, from the 14th century, Nan was the capital of a sequence of kingdoms and states.
This glory is depicted in weathered but intricate murals inside the town’s most intriguing temple, the 420-year-old Wat Phumin. Deeper historical perspective is offered by the nearby Nan National Museum, an early 1900s royal pavilion. Its ground floor explains Nan’s customs and festivals, while its first floor displays hundreds of artefacts.
The road from Nan to Phrae is flat and calming, compared with the routes that went before. It does, however, feature the eerie Tham Pha Nang Khoi cave, where I find myself beneath the earth, ducking bats, in a cavern drenched in fluorescent lights that is supposedly home to a spurned ghost.
At the top of a tall, stone staircase is a stalagmite that resembles a woman holding a toddler. According to legend, this is the petrified remains of a mother frozen after years of waiting here for her husband. Beyond that, a 100m-long wooden walkway leads through a vast cavern illuminated by brightly coloured lights.
Another natural wonder, 25km south of here, has a similarly creepy backstory. Proclaimed as a miniature Grand Canyon, Phae Muang Phi Forest Park is a sandstone plateau that, due to erosion, boasts a small gorge embellished by dozens of pillars of various shapes and sizes, which visitors can wander through.
From atop the plateau there are views down into the ravine and across treetops to the nearby mountains. Myth has it that this gully was created by a local woman who, after finding treasure in the forest, tried to escape but was weighed down by ghosts until her footsteps eroded the earth.
Phrae, meanwhile, is another sleepy town, slightly larger than Phayao and Nan. Its outstanding attribute is dozens of old teak homes, many in fine condition.
Dating to the early 1900s, when Phrae was a booming centre for teak timber, these houses fuse Thai and European architecture, and some – such as the Khum Vongburi Museum, a time capsule of a century-old lifestyle – can be toured.
That era represented Phrae’s peak, but nearby Lampang had its zenith many centuries earlier.
Our final stop on the loop, 1,300-year-old Lampang retains some of its city walls, built during the era of the Lanna Kingdom, which exerted varying levels of control over Northern Thailand for six centuries until the late 1800s.
Lampang was overshadowed by Lanna capitals Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and still is. Yet it has a satisfying degree of antiquity. I feel like I am treading back into history at its 106-year-old railway station; its white-arched Ratchadapisek Bridge, which was the longest in Thailand in the late 1800s; and its almost 600-year-old Wat Phra Kaeo Don Tao, which in the 1400s was home to the most revered artefact in Thai history: the Emerald Buddha, a priceless, 66cm-tall (26-inch) statue that is now displayed in Bangkok’s Grand Palace.
Visitors will not encounter tourist hordes in Chiang Dao, Pa Ngio, Phayao, Nan, Phrae or Lampang. This driving route, however, offers memorable scenery, distinct architecture, curious attractions, historic wonders and soothing serenity.
