Mae Salong: From army camp to tourist town

Mae Salong is nestled deep in the hills of northern Thailand. Photo / Wikitravel image

There's a friendly welcome and then there's the hospitality on offer at the Little Home Guesthouse in the small village of Mae Salong, deep in the Thai hills.

"More tea?" says my host, Somboon, the landlord of Little Home, as he re-fills my cup for the umpteenth time with the subtlest, smokiest, freshest tasting Oolong.

I'm sitting on a small covered terrace, watching the vast skies above the northern Thai hills melt into a gentle evening.

On the road below, brightly adorned men and women of the Akha and Lisu hill people are heading home, tired yet smiling after a long day at market, with either children or bundles of wood clinging to their backs.

Somboon presents me with a plate of spicy Yunnanese noodles, which I quickly devour, and then joins me for more tea.

"I grow my own Oolong and even some coffee," he says.

"Mae Salong now produces some very good tea. I will take you to see my farm in the morning."

Mae Salong is renowned for its teas. It's also famous for its cool, temperate climate n a welcome relief from the sauna heat of the rest of the country. And its location is of note: the village is strung out along a high ridge, unusual in a country famed for its plains and valleys.

But there's a lesser-known tale about Mae Salong: the back story of how it transformed itself into a popular travellers' destination.

Sixty years ago, on 23 April, Chiang Kai-shek's Nationalist Kuomintang (KMT) lost control of their capital, Nanjing, to Mao's advancing People's Liberation Army.

It was the turning point of the Chinese Revolution, which culminated in Mao declaring the People's Republic of China on 1 October 1949.

Most of the remaining KMT forces retreated to Taiwan, but one army, the 93rd, cut off deep in western China in the hills of the Yunnan, continued fighting.

Eventually, pushed southward into Burma, most of the remaining 93rd were evacuated to Taiwan in the 1950s and 1960s.

Even then, with their forces severely depleted, elements within the 93rd held onto their dream of returning to China and overthrowing Mao's regime.

With nowhere left to run, by the end of the 1960s the remaining members were forced into northern Thailand. They set up camp in a small Lisu hill-tribe village that was smothered in thick forest - it was called Mae Salong.

"I was actually born in Thailand," says Somboon.

"My Yunnanese father - a famous general in the 93rd - had sent my mother to an Akha village, near a place called Doi Tung about 25 kilometres west of Mae Salong, in 1953, when she was pregnant with me. That's where I was born."

With Somboon's family moving back and forth for a number of years through the then porous Burmese-Thai border, the 93rd were finally allowed to fully settle in Mae Salong at the beginning of the 1970s. There were conditions though - mainly that they had to fight the Thai Communists, who then controlled almost a third of Thailand.

"My father died fighting for the Thai government in 1972," says Somboon.

It was during this period that the 93rd garnered a reputation for involvement in the drug trade, something that was depicted in Ridley Scott's 2007 film, American Gangster.

It wasn't until the Thai Communists were defeated in 1982 that the remnants of the 93rd were finally given the right to stay in Thailand and full Thai citizenship.

With the fighting over, Mae Salong began to transform itself from renegade army encampment to tourist village.

The opium poppy fields were destroyed, tea was planted in their place and the 93rd's barracks were converted into holiday resorts.

"For the first few years after my father's death I was a colonel in the 93rd, but when the fighting ended I moved with my wife and two sons to Chiang Mai," says Somboon.

After spending a number of years working as road-builder, Somboon and his family returned to Mae Salong in 2005 to satisfy a life-long ambition.

"I'd always dreamed of opening a small place for travellers to stay," he says.

Somboon's efforts have paid off.

Little Home has a variety of delightful, well-kept en-suite bungalows set in a small garden n each offering a perfect view of the sunrise from its verandah n as well as a main wooden building with stylish rooms that are ridiculously cheap to stay in.

"We are almost always full at weekends with Thai tourists," says Somboon.

"They come to Mae Salong to feel the cold. Many won't have experienced it before. But for many foreign tourists the temperature is still warm enough."

These days, Mae Salong is like an authentic slice of Yunnan China deposited high in the hills of Thailand.

Red-tiled roofs, swept-up Chinese-style, dot the landscape, terraced tea plantations flow down the steep hillsides, and arcane Chinese charms hang from doorways.

Parades of welcoming teahouses, proffering tourist-tempting scented Oolong and sharply pickled plums, line the twisting streets, while Akha, Lisu and Lahu hill people create an ethnic melange.

This mix of authentic Chinese culture and hill people has proved a big attraction not only for foreign tourists but also the domestic Thai market.

Several independently owned resorts now line the main road in and out of Mae Salong - the better ones are often full at weekends with touring Thais. Yet, while development has picked up, the atmosphere is still very low-key.

One of the main reasons for this relaxed ambience is Mae Salong's location.

While the forest tracks that the 93rd arrived on are long gone, the plunging, tight, twisting, road in and out of Mae Salong still affords the village a distinctive cut-off ambience.

The only public transport connecting the village to the outside world is in the form of a songtaew - a converted pick-up truck with two rows of padded seats in the back - an adventurous way to arrive for the hardier traveller.

Otherwise, guesthouses are happy to pick up people from nearby Chiang Rai airport for a small fee - Little Home charges about 30 pounds one way.

The other advantage of the location is the views - on a clear day, a giant sweep of rolling green marches all the way to the Mekong River and the hills of Laos and Burma.

One of the best places to take in this view also happens to serve one of the most delicious homemade chocolate brownies on sale in Thailand - the funky Sweet Mae Salong Cafe.

"The trick is to add more chocolate, not sugar," says Jinapuck "Mee" Chewanorrasuchakul, co-owner of Sweet Mae Salong with her husband Kittikhun "Ton" Khongstisawat, as I sit eating a suitably sticky brownie while admiring the view of distant hillside Akha villages from the cafe's tiny, bamboo verandah.

A labour of love for its owners, Sweet Mae Salong also serves great coffee.

"The coffee we use is grown locally," says Ton.

"It's very high quality."

Fed and watered I stroll back up the hill to Little Home. A walk around Mae Salong can often take longer than planned due to the numerous tea houses that invite you in to taste their wares.

Strangely enough, sales pressure is minimal and most seem happy to just let you sample the fabulous array of Oolongs. Preserved fruit is another big seller, with jars stuffed with cherries, plums and raisins.

After more homemade Yunnanese cooking - tasty boiled spicy pork leg with Chinese buns - I fall into a deep sleep, only to be woken at daybreak by the village cockerels. I clamber out of bed and scale the sharp, skyward pointing staircase just round the back of Little Home.

Twenty breathless minutes later I reach the massive, ornate golden spire at the top. With the sun just poking over the horizon I make it in time to witness the spectacular light-show.

A gaggle of saffron robe-clad monks and the distant twisting Mekong completing the magic.

It is hard to imagine this engaging hilltop village offering anything other than one of the warmest welcomes in a country famed for its friendliness.

- INDEPENDENT