Dawn breaks in Nakhon Phanom with a dozen saffron-robed monks and novices walking along the riverfront of this small city in Isan, Thailand’s northeastern region. Across the road looms the 50-foot-tall Phaya Si-Satta Nakharat, the brass monument and fountain in the shape of a seven-headed “Naga” snake standing sentry. The Mekong River flows past, lazy and muddy, and a lone spot-billed pelican flaps its way between the water’s surface and low-hanging clouds. Among the jagged mountains of neighboring Laos, fog puffs from the dense green jungle. A light rain has been falling. The sheen of water on pavement reflects the passing monks as they trudge barefoot, collecting daily alms.
Throughout Thailand, cities and villages wake up this way. Still, the sight feels different here in Nakhon Phanom, perhaps because I’ve never visited before or maybe it’s because relatively few tourists ever will.
Travel in Thailand has followed well-worn paths for more than 50 years, starting with a Southeast Asian extension of the old “Hippie Trail,” a series of sites and stops that began in East Timor, Indonesia, continued through Malaysia and carried on to Bangkok and Chiang Mai.
The free spirits of the ’60s and ’70s and then the backpackers of the ’80s and ’90s cemented popular travel circuits spotlighting ruins of ancient kingdoms, famous Buddhist temples, northern mountains and southern islands such as Phuket and Samui. Travelers have skipped Isan for a couple of key reasons: fear of the unfamiliar or missing photo opportunities elsewhere.
After landing in Udon Thani and picking up my rental car, I embark on a five-night road trip, mostly along the Mekong River. I meander back roads, through farming villages, past local temples with stupas and gleaming gold Buddha images. And quickly, I remember why the green season (from June and November) is the best time to visit the area. The landscape unfolds in near green monochrome. At the warmer, lighter end, rice paddies undulate like the sea, while mango and rubber trees provide darker, colder tints. Towering cumulonimbus clouds periodically stalk the horizon, and when the sky darkens, the greens pop even brighter.
Isan makes the mundane exquisite. Fewer crowds mean everything stands out more, and you sense that nothing is for show. The locals have the well-earned reputation as some of the nicest people in the Land of Smiles. Aside from a couple of provinces bordering Cambodia, the Northeast is safe for travelers of all stripes. You can’t help but feel immersed in the culture and setting.
The restaurants and markets cater to residents rather than international travelers, and some of your favorite Thai food probably originated here. Papaya salad, or tam buk hoong (som tam in Central Thai), may as well be the national dish. Grilled chicken Isan style — spatchcocked and held flat with bamboo splints — knows no parallel. And while jasmine rice is readily available, the local sticky rice is so much more fun. Laab is also Northeastern — try the variation made with duck.
Geographically, the 20 provinces of Isan lie on the Khorat Plateau — roughly the size of England and Wales — which rises from Central Thailand. While much of the area is flat, travel around the Sakhon Nakhon Basin in the northeastern corner, which is more varied, with mountains, waterfalls and unique geological features. Hin Sam Waan (or Three Whales Rock) is a trio of massive boulders in Bueng Kan province created during a tectonic uplift 75 million years ago. Erosion of sandstone left the “whales” protruding from Phu Sing Mountain, where their cliffs plummet more than 500 feet to the farming valley below. Hiking trails lead along the tops of the two larger “mother” and “father” boulders, but be careful to stay within the painted dots, as there is no guardrail.
Six days is nowhere near enough time to take in all of Isan, but I’m able to sample five provinces. On the third morning, I departed the Lake House, a tiny boutique hotel in Bueng Khong Long (you won’t find international luxury hotel brands here). Early that day, I hiked up Phu Langkah to explore Tum Naka (Naga Cave), a sacred mountaintop with slot canyons where sandstone formations resemble the scales and seven heads of the mythical snake.
On another afternoon, at Namtok Tum Foon (Waterfall at the Cave of Dust), I bathed in a small punchbowl that rushing water had carved into the rock and visited the cave, where the dirt underfoot is as fine as its dust namesake. I chatted with a roadside vendor who sold me rambutan (a tropical fruit native to the area) and fresh coconut water. Grilled chicken stands and noodle shops also lured me in. I purchased the perfect durian (the spiky fruit known for being malodorous) from a makeshift market inside a machine shop, too.
Traveling is just as simple in Isan as it is in the bigger tourist areas, probably easier because there’s way less human congestion. If you’re confident on your own, it’s a fun adventure. If you’d like an expert’s assistance, reserve a private tour at Three Whales Rock. Guides are required at Naga Cave. But if you’re looking for more support, check out Smiling Albino’s Elevated Isaan tour, where guests travel a highly curated route by helicopter. One of just a few companies to operate luxury expeditions to Isan, the team meticulously researches the destinations and specializes in creating higher-end experiences in remote places (such as the Laotian countryside).
Elevated Isaan often includes private dinners with renowned chefs, exclusive ceramics workshops at the Baan Chiang pottery village/archaeological site and community-based events such as festivals, hands-on agricultural tours or tie-dying lessons using local indigo.
Creative director Greg Jorgensen notes that guests also enjoy river trips, cave exploration, hikes and visits to traditional weaving villages. “We bicycle the countryside of Nakhon Phanom to visit some of the most fantastic Lao-style stupas in Isan,” he says. “[This] allows us to visit our friends in various ethnic Phu Thai villages there.” And in the province of Loei, he adds, “There is the fantastic local spirit dancing, such as the Phi Khon Nam shamanic dance.”
Smiling Albino partners with family-run guesthouses and unique villas throughout the region. “Our focus has always been on local-meets-luxury, and the rich Isan culture presents an irresistible canvas for us to play with,” Jorgensen says. “Isan isn’t for everyone, and that’s exactly what makes it so special. We like to say it’s just an inch off the map — far enough to feel like you’ve discovered something new, but close enough to stay completely comfortable.”
Outings also could revolve around the local Moh Lum music scene. “Some of the best music in Thailand is in the smaller towns of Isan,” he says. “For the right type of guest, we are happy to arrange a private performance. These rarely end on time, with dancing, singing and merriment going well into the wee hours.”
