And yet the place appears reluctant to change. Development there is, but for the moment it manages to offer travellers' comforts without disturbing an enduring sense of a lost world.

That Mae Hong Son should retain an independent air is scarcely surprising. Hemmed in on all sides by mountains, it was linked with the outside world only in 1965 when a paved road from Chiang Mai was completed. Prior to that is was effectively cut off from the rest of the country, a fact that had earned it a reputation as Thailand's 'Siberia' since here was a convenient spot for posting into oblivion officials who had blotted their copy book. That is not longer the case but the town continues to hold itself aloof, happily tucked away in its own enchanting Shangri-La-like valley.

Adding to that sense of Shangri-La is the way in which nature exerts itself as an inescapably dominant force. Not only is the physical setting awesome, its appearance and mood is also subtly changed by the mists which frequently envelop the valley, shrouding it in air of mystery. The phenomenon is such that Mae Hong Son is popularly dubbed Muang Sam Mok, "City of Three Mists", the morning whiteness being more intense of more lingering depending on the three seasons.

A more vividly colourful manifestation of nature is Mae Hong Son's most famous bloom, the bua tong, a variety of sunflower which carpets the hillsides with a dense covering of yellow-gold. The flowers bloom in November, most spectacularly in Khun Yuam district, and are so profuse as to have become a symbol of Mae Hong Son province, celebrated in an annual festival. Classified by some specialists as a weed, the bua tong has been found to have insect-repellent properties, which is perhaps another reason to glory in its natural beauty.

It is nature, too, which keeps a restraining hand on the developers. Unlike the northern cities of Chiang Mai or Chiang Rai, Mae Hong Son is squeezed into a very narrow valley and the mountains come up to the very edge of town. There is simply not the room for much modern expansion.

A distinct character is also preserved by the human factor. The majority of the townsfolk is Thai Yai or Shan, while Karen, Meo, Lisu and Lahu tribespeople add an exotic touch of colour. The architecture of the town's older houses and its handful of Buddhist temples is Burmese, and in the mountains are scattered hilltribe villages. Geographically and culturally Mae Hong Son is a little island; Chiang Mai, let alone Bangkok, seems a long, long way off.

Because of its location Mae Hong Son gives a sense of the timeless, although it is not a particularly old settlement. The surrounding forests harbouring herds of wild elephants had for long provided a livelihood for the Thai Yai, but these were migrant people making seasonal trips back to their homelands in Burma, and thus no permanent settlement arose.

The situation did not change until 1831, when the Prince of Chiang Mai sent an expedition into the area to hunt for elephants and train them for work. A sizeable numbers of animal were captured and, with the assistance of the local Thai Yai, a corral was built to contain them. In time the humble camp grew into a village, and later expanded to become the town of Mae Hong Son. By 1874 the population was large enough to prompt the Prince of Chiang Mai (the then de facto ruler of northern Thailand) to designate the place a city and appoint a governor. Four such quasi-autonomous rulers held office until the area was officially established as a province of Thailand, with Mae Hong Son as the provincial capital.

Today, little seems to have changed and the town appears at first glance as a tranquil settlement huddled around its one main street, secure in its own separate identity. To a large extent one's first impressions are correct.

Mae Hong Son doesn't offer an awful lot to do. The big attraction of the place is the classic travel brochure promise of getting you "away from it all" -- and the town does just that. There it is alone amid the hills and small enough to be toured on foot in half an hour. Nothing much happens and despite the Burmese border being close by, there is no official crossing point, although some smuggling does take place, adding a certain spice to the atmosphere.More.