Thailand -

ith its gold-lacquered facade and dragon-tail roof tips, Wat Bang Phra looks like just another Thai Buddhist temple. It's not, though. This wat is famous throughout the Kingdom for its magical tattoos and the resident monks who etch them. Locals consider it the holy headquarters of protective body art - a visit here, it is said, is a passport to a better life.

Many Thais believe tattoos inked by Buddhist monks hold mystical powers, protecting bearers from illness, evil spirits and even bullets, while also bringing good fortune. The belief dates back to 9th-century Khmer culture and superstitious soldiers tattooing their torsos as a form of drawn-on battle armour to guard against enemy swords. The tradition lives on here, an hour's drive west of Bangkok in Nathorn Pratom province, where the ancient art of protective and curative tattooing is still practiced as part of a monk's ascetic existence, based traditionally on prayer and self-denial.

Of Thailand's quarter of a million monks, only a few qualify as tattooists, and as such their talents are highly sought after by an all-male clientele that typically includes university students, taxi drivers, labourers and members of the country's feared nak leng (gangster) community. The ceremony is taboo for women; it seems the blood loss from their menstrual cycles drains tattoos of magical power.

Few foreign tourists make the pilgrimage to Bang Phra. Arriving alone on a hot afternoon, I am introduced to the temple's arjan (master) and chief tattooist Shzou, a welcoming forty-something monk whose saffron robes conceal his own body art. On hearing my Australian accent, he raises his gown to reveal an image of a large red koi carp emblazoned on his lower leg, the work of a tattooist named Geordie during a visit to Sydney. According to folklore, a koi carp once swam bravely up a waterfall, transforming into a dragon at the top. As such, the fish remains sacred to Buddhists.

"Tattoos help people find the power in themselves," says Shzou, showing me a detailed portrait on his shoulder of Luang Phur Purn, Wat Bang Phra's recently deceased abbot and patron saint. Legend has it Phur Purn once calmly subdued a raging tiger using nothing but his immense powers of meditation. Today a gilded statue of him riding the tamed beast stands triumphantly near the temple's entrance. His body can be seen resting peacefully in a gold-rimmed Perspex coffin inside the compound.

Phur Purn, began his school of magical tattooing here in 1975, teaching his craft to local monks and using temple donations to build roads, schools and a hospital. His legacy can also be found in the adjoining souvenir shop-cum-museum in the shape of tiger-head talismans sold as good luck charms. Thai religious beliefs have it that monks are able to transfer their spiritual energy by passing on charms, amulets, beads and, in the case of Bang Phra, tattoos.

For decades, tattoo enthusiasts throughout Thailand have flocked to Wat Bang Phra for the annual wai kru ceremony. Pilgrims gather on a nearby dirt field in their thousands to pay early morning homage by adopting the characteristics of their given tattoos. In fits of religious fervour, bodies are contorted and minds entranced in attempts to invoke the spirit and personality traits of dragons, geckos, snakes, birds and whatever else is drawn on their bodies.

Mesmerised, participants wearing small necklace carvings of Phur Purn hurl themselves at senior monks lined in readiness on the temple steps, only to be halted and wrestled to the ground by burly uniformed guards who rub the ear lobes of devotees in order to release the demon essence from their souls and return them to the natural world. To conclude the ceremony, holy water is sprayed from the stage into the crowd.

A former pupil of Phur Purn's, Shzou caters to festival-goers by operating from a small incense-fumed parlour in a nearby stucco building, asking a THB 50 (RMB 10) donation for his needlework. On the steps outside, I chat with a group of young men lazing in the shade, many waiting to have their bodies permanently blessed in a tattoo initiation ritual called krob kru.

Pilgrims have been known to travel great distances to Bang Phra for Shzou and his team to re-bless existing tattoos, complete a work in progress or, in the recent case of one devotee, etch an 'invisible' tattoo using clear sesame oil instead of the traditional blue-black dye. Chosen designs - typically mythical creatures and religious mantras - are artfully chiselled into limbs, shoulders, backs, necks, even shaved heads, using sharpened 50 centimetre-long skewers dipped in Chinese charcoal ink infused with a mixture of herbs and reptile venom. Tattoos of Buddhist motifs are also popular, though these must be worn above the waist as a sign of respect.

Seated in lotus position on a large ink-spattered cushion, Shzou prepares his tools, looking every bit the studio artisan. I watch with interest as a young disciple bows, then plants joss sticks at a small shrine crowded with burning candles before kneeling into position. Open palmed, held in place by his friends, he grimaces as Shzou begins rhythmically hand-tapping a finely worked passage of pali (Buddhist text) into his upper back. Despite his discomfort, he rarely cries out. Physical pain through tattooing is thought to clear the mind of cluttered emotions and ultimately lead to salvation.

Thai religious tattooing is generally a serene and silent process, quite at odds with the electric needle-gun buzz and skull and crossbones imagery of Western (or Bangkok) tattoo parlours. For participants, it is a spiritual rather than a cosmetic exercise. Shzou's simple handmade silver rods cause less bleeding and inflammation than modern tattooing equipment like autoclave sterilisers. He uses simple lao kao (rice moonshine) as antiseptic and toilet paper to wipe down the skin.

After almost an hour of careful concentration, the job is done. Shzou then whispers to his young client a brief prayer on how best to nurture the spirit of his new inscription. The wearer's devotion to his tattoo depends on how much he prays to it and whether he is willing to follow Buddhism's basic precepts, including a vow of non-violence.

After the ceremony, Shzou kindly offers me a complimentary tattoo. I politely decline. Wat Bang Phra has already left its mark.