Want To Explore Thailand?
Get access to 1,200+ private locations.
Exploring Khon Kaen in Monochrome
Khon Kaen, in the heart of northeastern Thailand, is often overlooked by travelers rushing between Bangkok and Laos—but it’s a province full of surprises. Known for its strong Isaan culture, bustling night markets, and a growing arts scene, it also happens to be one of the best places in the country to unwind.
Our first stop was Phu Wiang National Park, a quiet, forested escape about an hour and a half from the city. The park is best known for its dinosaur fossils, and there’s a 3.5-kilometer nature trail that winds through the forest to several excavation sites. We were lucky—at one of the dig sites, a paleontologist happened to be working, carefully uncovering 100-million-year-old bones. He even let us step inside the excavation area to take a closer look, which gave us a rare, up-close view of the work that goes into uncovering these ancient fossils.
The trail itself doesn’t offer dramatic views, but it’s still worth walking through. It winds through quiet patches of forest, with the occasional rustle of leaves and birdsong breaking the silence. The path is unpaved and can get fairly steep in places, so you need to be in decent shape, but the walk still feels calm and peaceful. It’s less about the scenery and more about the experience of being surrounded by nature, with just enough challenge to keep it interesting.
Later that evening, we headed toward a bat cave near Phu Pha Man. The drive itself was part of the experience—narrow roads cutting through open countryside, where life moved at a slower pace. We passed through a series of small rural villages, each with clusters of wooden houses, kids playing by the roadside, and the occasional shopfront with a flickering light. Along the way, cows grazed lazily in open fields or wandered across the road, unfazed by passing vehicles.
After another 20 minutes of driving, we finally reached the bat cave. The bat cave itself is tucked into the side of a limestone cliff near Phu Pha Man mountain, surrounded by dense forest and steep karst outcrops. From a distance, the cave entrance doesn’t look like much—just a dark slit halfway up the rock face—but up close, you can see the weathered texture of the limestone, worn smooth in some places and jagged in others, with streaks of mineral deposits running down like ink stains. The entrance is narrow and high, but it’s connected to an enormous underground chamber that stretches deep into the mountain. Once the sun dipped below the horizon, a faint rustling began from inside the cave—then, like clockwork, the first bats started to emerge.
What started as a trickle quickly turned into a stream, then a torrent: millions of bats poured out of the cave in a continuous, swirling ribbon that stretched across the sky. They moved in coordinated waves, forming a kind of living plume that twisted and folded like smoke in the wind. You could actually hear them—a low, pulsing whirr as their wings beat the air.
The next morning, we headed to Wat Tham Saeng Tham, a secluded temple set deep in the countryside. The drive there took longer than expected, with rural backroads riddled with potholes and stretches of uneven dirt tracks that slowed us down to a crawl. By the time we arrived, the place felt almost abandoned—no monks, no visitors, just a row of quiet buildings nestled along the edge of a jagged karst hill.
As we stepped out of the car, a pack of temple dogs emerged from the shadows near the entrance. They didn’t just bark—they growled, circled, and kept their eyes fixed on us with that tense, low posture that doesn’t leave much room for guessing. We waited a bit, hoping someone from the temple would show up, but the grounds remained silent. With no staff in sight and the dogs showing no signs of backing off, we made the call to leave. As much as we wanted to explore the temple, it just wasn’t worth the risk of getting bitten in the middle of nowhere.
On the way back to our hotel, we stopped off at a small local market we spotted along the roadside. It was the kind of place that pops up for a few hours in the morning—makeshift stalls under tarps, with fresh fruit laid out in plastic baskets and vendors calling out prices in rapid-fire Isaan. We grabbed a few snacks and some fruit for the road—sweet tamarind, a bunch of tiny bananas, and a couple of bags of sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves. It wasn’t a planned stop, but it ended up being one of the more enjoyable parts of the morning.
That evening, we made our way to the so-called Blue Lagoon—a spot that’s gained some attention online but felt more like a tourist trap than anything else. It’s tucked away in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farmland and scrubland, and getting there involved a long, winding drive through backroads that didn’t seem to lead anywhere promising. Although we did enjoy the wildness of the road: as seen in the pic below…
Once we go to the Blue Lagoon, it turned out to be an old limestone quarry that’s been repurposed into a man-made lake. The water has a subtle turquoise color, thanks to the mineral content in the rock, and at first glance, it’s undeniably eye-catching. A few wooden platforms and shaded seating areas have been set up along the edge, with small shops selling snacks, drinks, and food. It was nice to see for a few minutes—photogenic, sure—but the long drive out didn’t quite justify the visit. It felt a little overhyped, the kind of place that looks better on Instagram than it does in person. We stayed just long enough to stretch our legs and take a few photos before heading to a nearby restaurant with a nice view called Putahracsa.
We ate fried chicken wings, sticky rice, and grilled pork neck, which turned out to be the best we’ve ever had. Perfectly charred on the outside with just enough fat to keep it juicy, the meat was tender, smoky, and seasoned with a simple rub that let the flavor shine without being overpowering. It came with a side of nam jim jaew, the spicy-sour dipping sauce typical of Isaan cuisine, and together it was unforgettable—rich, slightly sweet from the caramelized edges, and balanced with a chili-lime kick that hit all the right notes.
Putahracsa also had an ant egg omelette on the menu, which we couldn’t pass up. It looked like a regular Thai-style omelette at first—crispy around the edges, golden and puffy—but biting into it revealed tiny bursts of texture from the ant eggs. They’re slightly creamy inside, with a subtle, nutty flavor that’s hard to describe but surprisingly pleasant. It added a delicate richness to the dish without being too strange or overpowering. Altogether, it was one of those unexpected meals that quietly stole the show, making the detour feel just a little more worthwhile.
Before heading back to our hotel, we made a quick stop at the Thetsaban market in Chum Phae to pick up some ginger tea. The heat from the spicy food had started to catch up with us, and ginger tea is always a reliable remedy to soothe the stomach and calm down the lingering burn.
As we walked around the market, we stumbled upon a stall selling fresh ant eggs, like the ones in our omelette. The eggs were piled on banana leaves, and the vendor was was also offering them for sale by the kilogram. To our surprise, the price was nearly double that of beef (500 baht per kilo), making it one of the more expensive items in the market.
The next day, we headed to Wat Chaisi, nestled in the Sawatthi village. The temple was a striking blend of old and new, with its buildings meticulously preserved and still in regular use for merit-making and teaching. One of the most impressive features of Wat Chaisi is its ordination hall, which is adorned with 100-year-old murals that have been carefully maintained.
The temple’s façade is a complex, almost chaotic composition of architectural elements—pilasters, false windows, redundant window frames, and moldings that break up the surface into a patchwork of compartments in various sizes and shapes. The fragmented design creates a sense of depth, with corners and protrusions appearing at every turn. The murals fill every inch of the space, wrapping around corners and flowing seamlessly across the surfaces. Even the most difficult nooks and crannies are covered, showcasing the artist’s ability to bring unity and flow to such a seemingly chaotic setting.
The murals at Wat Chaisi depict the story of Sinsai, one of the most beloved narratives in Isaan and Lao culture. Often considered one of the three masterpieces of Lao classic literature, Sinsai tells the tale of an ancient royal city under threat when the king’s sister is abducted by an ogre, or nyak. The plot follows her three nephews—one of whom is the hero, Sinsai—as they embark on a perilous journey to rescue her. The story is filled with adventure, magic, and a host of mythical creatures, including giant elephants, nagas (water serpents), and other supernatural beings capable of extraordinary feats, like flying, shape-shifting, and regenerating heads after battle. Sinsai, himself a hero of great strength and skill, is gifted with superhuman archery abilities and the power to communicate with the mythical khrut, or garuda birds, who come to his aid.
Beyond the adventure, the story of Sinsai is a deeply spiritual one. It incorporates key Buddhist teachings and traditional Isaan values, such as non-attachment, karma, sacrifice, harmony, and the importance of family. Throughout his trials, Sinsai exemplifies the qualities of compassion and wisdom, offering a moral framework that resonates across generations. The murals at Wat Chaisi not only capture the epic scale of this ancient tale but also weave in these timeless teachings, making them as much a visual narrative of cultural values as a retelling of myth.
Later that evening, we made our way back to Khon Kaen city, ready to unwind after a long day of exploration. We stopped at Thong Aek Laab for dinner, indulging in one of Isaan’s most beloved dishes. The laab was bursting with flavor—spicy, tangy, and fragrant, with fresh herbs and finely minced meat seasoned just right. It’s the kind of meal that feels both hearty and refreshing, especially when paired with sticky rice to balance out the heat.
After dinner, we decided to check out the night market to see what else the city had to offer. The market, which was bustling with locals, had a slightly different vibe from others we’d seen. Instead of the usual assortment of snack-sized street foods, this market seemed to cater more to those looking for a full meal, with most of the stalls offering made-to-order dishes. There were fewer snacks or quick bites that are typically found at Thai markets, and the options didn’t quite spark our curiosity in the same way.
Even though we didn’t end up eating anything, it was still nice to walk through the market. The colorful stalls were full of life, with people chatting, cooking, and browsing. The scent of grilled meats and spices filled the air, and the atmosphere was lively and warm, a reflection of local life in the evening. It wasn’t the food we were hoping to discover, but the stroll gave us a quiet moment to take in the evening buzz of Khon Kaen, and sometimes that’s just as enjoyable as a meal.
The following morning, we decided to take a quiet walk down to Wat Nong Waeng, one of the more iconic temples in Khon Kaen. What stood out immediately about the early morning in the city was its peacefulness. Khon Kaen, being more of a college town and a nightlife hub, felt quite different from most other Thai cities at dawn. The streets were calm and nearly empty, with only a handful of people out and about—mostly early risers tending to their daily routines.
As we made our way to the temple, we passed by a few food vendors, but the street scenes were much quieter than we expected. Most of the vendors were just beginning to set up, and there was a lack of the usual early morning food rush you’d find in most Thai cities. Even the morning alms procession, a sacred ritual in many Thai cities, didn’t start until around 7:00 a.m. here, which was a little later than the pre-dawn offerings typical elsewhere.
When we finally arrived at Wat Nong Waeng, we were greeted by the sight of the temple’s impressive Chedi, its golden spire reaching up into the sky. The Chedi, with its distinct architectural style and serene atmosphere, was the perfect way to cap off our time in Khon Kaen before heading back to the hustle and bustle of Bangkok.
Travel Resources
The Khon Kaen Toolkit
Did you know that… when you purchase something through one of our links, we earn a small fee. However, you still pay the exact same amount. It’s a win-win that helps us produce new content.
Travel Insurance ->
Never travel abroad without protection. SafetyWing is there when you need them.
Simplify your international transactions with a smart financial tool like Wise.
International SIM ->
Keep your cell phone bill from being as much as your plane ticket with Maya.
Check out Get Your Guide to discover the best activities all over Thailand!
Booking Platform ->
We always use 12Go to get the best deals on buses, trains, and car rentals.
Make it impossible for hackers to see your data on any network with NordVPN.
Interactive Map
Khon Kaen's Location
Share Via:
Facebook
Twitter
WhatsApp
Who We Are:
Alan & May
Welcome to North of Known! We’re Alan and May, a married couple who have embraced digital nomadism while calling Bangkok, Thailand, our current home base. Over the past 7 years, our shared passion for exploration and adventure has fueled our journey across the globe. Join us as we continue to embark on our nomadic adventures, sharing our insights, discoveries, and travel tales along the way.
Support Our Work:
