If you follow any of my social media accounts, you’ll have seen that at the end of July, I visited Thailand to take part in the very first Thailand Village Academy. This brand new programme brought 22 international bloggers and 22 Thai bloggers together to visit 22 amazing villages around the country, and experience a side of Thailand that’s rarely seen by tourists.
When I applied, I had to choose an itinerary from the 22. They all sounded incredible, so I struggled to choose just one, but then I spotted the Ban Bang Phlap itinerary, which included a visit to Rom Hoops Market. I’d seen a video of this incredibly unique market on social media years before, and I’d always said I’d love to see it. I selected this itinerary, and much to my surprise, a few weeks later I was emailed to say that I’d been selected!
After flying into Bangkok and attending the academy’s opening ceremony, it was time to head out on an amazing adventure. Here’s what happened when I got to see the market I’d been wanting to visit for years (don’t miss the video at the end):
Rom Hoops Market, Maeklong Railway Station
This post was originally published on Read.me
Day one starts with a taxi ride from our hotel to Wongwian Yai Railway Station, in what feels like the centre of Bangkok (but I don’t have my bearings, so it really could be anywhere!).
For the whole cab journey, I am glued to the window, watching the skyline unfold ahead of me, marvelling at the scale of it. Bangkok’s skyscrapers make London look like a toy town!
Life is unfolding everywhere I look. There’s the man sleeping in the back of a truck, the women sitting side-saddle on the back of motorbikes, on their morning commute, and the guy on his tea break, sitting beside a highway staring at a pond filled with water lilies. Seeing him is a timely reminder to look for beauty even in the midst of chaos.
We arrive at the station, which is little more than a line of chairs and shops along the railway track, motorbikes and pedestrians and cyclists all hustling past, excited chatter mixed with the unhurried silence of passers-by. My guide, who speaks but a few words of English, has disappeared somewhere, leaving me with a gaggle of suitcases. It’s hot and sticky, although the locals are all in trousers and even cardigans. My comfort zone is something of a speck on the horizon behind me at this stage, but I’m trying to take it all in, to just go with the flow (something I know I need to work on)!
The train trundles through the city, nothing gentle or smooth about the rumbling, jolting, humming it creates as it traverses homes, roads, fields and tiny, stagnant streams.
Fans oscillate lazily from the ceiling, but the wind is doing a better job of cooling me as it sweeps through my hair, my eyes glued to the view. Lush green covers everything. There are waxy thick leaves of the banana plants, gentle fronds, long verdant grasses, lilies, and every other size and shape and shade of green, growing in and from and through every space I see. Shrines peek out above fences and through gaps between buildings. And, as a slight aside, I will never complain about a British train toilet again.
We step off the train at Mahachai Railway Station – after about an hour of travel – directly into a crowded market. The smells are overpowering, fish and fruit and I have no idea what else. I pull my suitcase, dodging people and cars and vans and bikes and tuk tuks, fish heads glistening to my left and right, bags of bright orange, crunchy dried shrimp perched on stall countertops.
We lose our guide – again, but only briefly – and decide to wait for her at Tha Chalom Pier, where motorbikes and mopeds pile into a tiny green ferry. We walk down the rickety metal gang plank onto the boat, which leaves the dock with a groan and a churn. It’s a quick journey across the Mae Klong River, and soon we’re bumping against the opposite bank, a giant gold Buddha visible through the trees. There’s another market, here. Smaller, pressed along the edges of the street. There’s a school, a temple, a tourist information centre, a cafe, and another train station.
We sit, sweaty and tired from lugging our bags, and spot the timetable. We have an hour’s wait before the train from Ban Laem Railway Station to Maeklong Station. Other passengers pass the time by laying on the benches, or buying small bags of food sold by the vendors along the tracks.
We try to make conversation. Mulan, our guide, takes photo after photo of us in various awkward poses. My Thai buddy Q and I try to chat in stuttered words and sign language and, occasionally, Google Translate. He knows a few words in English. I know exactly two in Thai (hello and thank you) so it’s not exactly sparkling conversation. And yet we chat — verbal or not, it all counts — about editing, about Mulan and her love of taking photos. About the heat.
The train arrives. We pose for more photos (some of them our own this time), and hop on board. As we begin to move, the sun beating down on our skin, the carriage rocking not so gently back and forth, my eyelids begin to droop.
I’m woken by splashes of rain on my arms. It’s lashing down suddenly, monsoon season well and truly in full swing. Soon we reach Maeklong Station, the train only just squeezing past the crowds taking photos and the awning of the market stalls.
This is a market I’ve known about, and wanted to visit, for years. But it’s going to be a while before the train starts moving again, so we sit in a small restaurant called Gong Meng Chan and enjoy wonton noodle soup, and Thai iced coffee, which is incredibly sweet and just what I need in the heat!
Soon it’s time to hustle through the market, stepping along the train tracks, under dripping awnings in primary colours, past vegetables and clothes and fish and dried fruit. A bell from the station sounds, and the vendors begin covering their wares. They’re not in a hurry, but it’s clear that they’ve done this so many times before that they barely need to think about it.
I watch, excitement building, as the tracks are cleared. A bell rings again. There’s a ripple of anticipation among those who have come to watch the famous spectacle of Rom Hoop (“folding umbrella”) Market. The train appears from around the corner. It’s not coming quickly, but it’s so close that I could reach out and touch it. I don’t. Instead I watch in awe at this perfectly measured performance. A few centimetres difference, and a whole stall could come tumbling down.
As soon as the train sweeps past us, the awnings are put up again, and within seconds, it’s as though nothing out of the ordinary happened. It’s every bit as wonderful as I hoped.
We meet our local hero, Tong, from Ban Bang Phlap Community, who drives us to the Community Centre and homestay, a simple set of rooms surrounded by tranquil fruit orchards. There’s barely a sound out here.
We are treated to a delicious meal of crab omelette, Tom Yum chicken and fried shrimp with broccoli, and then it’s time for bed. We’re all tired after so much excitement, and there’s SO much more to come tomorrow…
