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Published: November 2nd 2006
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My last night in Chiang Mai was kind of funny. After going out for drinks with my friends (Mike and Kay from the U.K. and Mahogany from NY/Arizona/Singapore), I got dragged off by a pretty Thai girl (an Isaan Girl, to be more specific--their beauties) who I thought was taking me to dance at a night club. She actually took me to a massage parlor for some of the famous Thai massage. There was no "happy ending", so don't even ask, but by the time it was over I really didn't feel like partying anymore. So I made a stop at Chiang Mai's famous night market and went to bed around 11pm.
And thus I became the only person without a hangover on Mike and my bus north to Chiang Khong the next day.
The Bus They told us it was a "V.I.P. Bus," but it was more like a tiny, stuffy van with no A.C. and way too many people packed into it. Mike and I and an Irishman named Ronan played games with tiny-cards most of the way, using our laps as tables, until the windy road and the heat and the hangovers and all
the thinking made us too car sick--then we'd take a break.
It was pretty miserable, with a few stops at desperate little shops to get gauged on snacks and water. But, there were two good things about this trip:
1. We were finally leaving the hustle and bustle of Thailand's central flatlands and bigger towns for the peace and scenic beauty of northern Thailand and Laos. Mountains, rivers, shacks, and lush green forests--woo-hoo!
2. The people on this "bus" to Chiang Khong became our travelling companions and friends for the duration of our time in Laos. The Canadians (Mike and Paul), the Swedes (Johanes and Daniel), the Irishman (Ronan) and his Scottish girlfriend (Lucy) were on the bus with us and were also with us in every town in Laos-- and we had a lot of great adventures together.
The Border It was already dark outside when we pulled up to a slick little guesthouse in Chiang Khong, and even those of us who'd slept the night before were exhausted and feeling a little ill. But, in the fashion of these little border-towns, we were immediately assailed by people trying to get our money
and mostly wanting to rip us off.
The bus was scheduled to arrive at 5:00pm, but it was now 6:30. We'd read online and in our guidebooks that the border would be open until 8:00. However, almost every person we spoke to said that the border had already closed at 6:00pm. Coincidentally, they all either owned and ran guest houses or had a family member that did. The one guy who seemed straight-up with us was also the driver of the most brilliantly decayed little Tuk-Tuk I've ever seen. He told us that the border [i[was open until 8:00.
Ronan and Lucy didn't really give a damn about the scamming and were content to find beds here and cross in the morning. On the other hand, Mike and the Canucks and the Swedes and myself were all pretty stuck on the idea of partying in the more-populated town of Huay Xai tonight--just across the river. After rushing to get the photos Laos requires for foreign visas, we booked it up to the border house. Just to add tension to this mess, our Tuk-Tuk moved slightly slower than a jogging Bill Clinton and we were overtaken several times by
stray dogs and children on bicycles.
We got to the border-house at 7:30, just in time to find the lights out, the place abandoned, and a new sign announcing the everyday closure time of 6:00pm. Our guidebooks were obviously out-of-date now, which is fine. The frustration came from knowing that our bus driver had probably recieved a tip from that first guesthouse to delay our arrival until after 6:00.
An Extra Night So, we got to stay an extra night in Thailand. For the Scandinavians and North Americans--including myself--this just meant paying a little bit more for a room and some drinks than we would on the other side. For Mike, this meant paying a 500 Baht fine at the border the next day for overstaying his guest visa. We decided to make the most of it and set out to look for a hopping place.
It wasn't much of a search. The place directly across the street from the border-house was more bustling than any place we'd seen on the ride through town, with only 6 people at it. We stopped there, haggled for rooms, then sent a couple scouts into the town to
see if they could do better. They came back empty-handed, then we all settled in for dinner and drinks.
Later it was revealed that our six fellow revelers were in fact border guards celebrating their last night before changing stations. I shared a couple Singha beers with them, but they were too inebriated and too poorly skilled in English to allow much conversation. Fun guys, though, Thai border guards...
The place was quite and serene. Excepting the clicking of the Cicadas and the slapping of river-water against boats, there was nothing to hear all night. We slept like babies and that was our last night in the Land of the Free.
The next morning we got up early, had some grub, and headed over the muddy Mekong river into Laos.
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