Pronanounced: Ah-Yoot-Ta-Yaa
Why did I choose somewhere with a challenging name? Because people should know about this place. It is almost unknown to modern travellers but in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Ayutthaya was one of the great trading cities of the world, filled with people from every nation. In 1767, following a devastating attack by an invading army from Burma, its smouldering ruins were left to crumble back into the soil and its Royal palaces were re-established in what is now known as Bangkok. Most of its treasures were looted, its history forgotten.
The Chao Phraya River south of Ayutthaya, a place seemingly built from water.
Ayutthaya sits on a curious island created on a bend in the great Chao Phraya River (pronounced: Chow-Pra-Ya) where it is joined by the Lobpuri River, 80km north of modern-day Bangkok. The city was founded in 1351 as ancient Siam’s second capital city, half-way between India and China, tucked away beyond the reach of European powers who sought to add territory to their empires. It was a challenge to reach Ayutthaya: sea-going ships were too big to sail all the way up the Chao Phraya River and cargo had to be transferred to smaller boats for the journey. Each trading nation was permitted to establish compounds along the river; the ruins of the Dutch compound, just downstream from Ayutthaya, can still be visited.
By land, the journey was even worse. Ships from the east coast of India would sail through an archipelago on the west coast of Burma (now Myanmar) and up the great Tenasserim river as far as navigable. Cargo would then be transferred to elephants – seriously – and trekked across a wild mountain pass that separates Burma from Siam, then across to the Gulf of Siam to be loaded back on to boats for the journey up the Chao Phraya River. Accounts of the journey so hair-raising that I had to find a way of weaving that detail into Imperial Secrets!
An ancient map of Ayutthaya, displayed at the old Dutch trading compound on the Chao Phraya river. Ayutthaya was a place of glittering, gold-clad temples and busy trading markets. It was crossed by many canals, some of which remain to this day, others covered over to create straight roads. It’s hydraulic engineering was the envy of the world at one stage, perhaps not surprising when you think that the Dutch had a big influence in the region at one point.
In 2019, the draft manuscript of Imperial Secrets sat on my laptop but needed something to wake it up (like toasting spices in a hot pan!). I was scheduled to visit Malaysia to teach for one last time, so I decided to visit Ayutthaya, which I had grown to love in books and web articles. After a couple of nights in Bangkok (everyone needs a couple of nights in Bangkok, it’s completely awesome) we took a car north to Ayutthaya. Back at home, I described this trip in Imperial Secrets:
“The concrete Toll Way slices northwards from Bangkok through a timeless landscape of farms and rice fields. Sara had half expected Ayutthaya to emerge majestically from the shimmering plain like some mystical Shangri-La, but instead, the approach is crowded with uninspiring modern industrial buildings and billboards advertising everything from discounted rice to domestic water pumps. The modern entrance to the city is a steel bridge across the Pasak River channel; from there, a broad, tree-lined boulevard leads over the crushed and looted ancient city to reach the main historic sites without interruption.”
The eastern end of Ayutthaya is a busy modern town with shops, restaurants, hotels (if you go, stay at the Sala Ayutthaya hotel) and houses. It’s built right on top of the old residential parts of ancient Ayutthaya: the muslim quarter and Chinese market described in Imperial Secrets. The fort is still there but the city walls are gone. As you drive west towards the Ayutthaya, ruins begin to emerge from the most unlikely places: a private garden, a school playground or just the side of the road. The key ruins lie within what is now the Ayutthaya Historical Park.
The Diamond fortress seen from the Chao Phraya River. Mohamad and the city's residents flocked to the quayside near here (no longer in existence) to escape on 7th April 1767.
On the day we visited, the temperature reached 35 degrees and shade was hard to find. We were surrounded by ancient wonders too numerous to visit in a single day. Only the brick cores remain of palaces and monastic temples (a temple is known as a ‘Wat’): bricks scorched and burnished by the huge fires that engulfed the city during the Burmese attack.
Fire-burnished bricks at Ayutthaya. To touch those bricks was somehow to connect with the energy of the place.
Ayutthaya really does have an energy to it: part calming, forgiving perhaps, but also tragic. It’s almost impossible to describe, so here is an extract from Imperial Secrets and some photos which illustrate a tiny fraction of Ayutthaya.
“Sara’s visit ends in the north of the old city, where the narrow Lobpuri river channel passes dry, grass-covered fields and corrugated iron shacks. Here, a glorious Imperial Palace of lacquered teak, richly glazed tiles and solid gold once stood, now reduced to low brick foundations and dusty paths. The vast kitchens, where Mohamed and his forefathers cooked for Emperors, have vanished forever, their location lost to time and fire. Sara imagines the din and smell of the kitchen, the ceremony and glory of banquets, the bustle of palace life. Mohamad’s spirit rejoices.
Before retreating to her guesthouse, Sara wanders through the nearby Wat Phra Si Sanphet, the Monastery of the Temple of the Holy, Glorious Omniscient One, where priests and god-like kings once walked and prayed together. Peaceful rows of broken, cross-legged Buddha statues watch her in silence. She runs her hands along the temple’s burnished bricks, glazed by the immense heat of fire, imagining the rhythmic to and fro of Imperial monastic life. In the ruined prayer hall, she sits for a while on the platform from where the ancient golden Buddha had watched the city’s destruction before its beaten gold covering had been melted down and carried back to Burma. Unbearable tragedy appears to seep from every wall.”
The ruined prayer hall in which Sarah sat. In the middle is a huge brick platform on which a great staute of Buddha sat. His gold covering was melted down by Burmese troops by lighting a fire at the base. The hall would once have been roofed over and richly decorated in red and gold.
Best of all, perhaps, is the calm gaze of a huge golden buddha who witnessed Ayutthaya’s destruction and survived. He is now in Bangkok, having started his life in another ancient Siamese city, Sukothai, moving to Ayutthaya in 1403. If you ever visit, go and see him!
The Golden Buddha at Wat Traimit in Bankok. Made using 5½ tonnes of gold, he lived for many centuries in Ayutthaya, latterly covered in plaster and pieces of coloured glass to prevent him from being spotted and stolen by Burmese troops. He was moved to Bangkok after 1767 and, during building works in 1955, a chunk of plaster fell off, revealing pure gold...
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