Heading North: Chiang Mai

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I spent the day mooching and shopping; replacement flip flops were required because they had broken a few nights before (clutching broken flip flops and drunkenly eating Pad Thai at 2am. Too British for words). The bus to Chiang Mai was at 6pm and I was escorted to the bus by two Thai girls and then a Thai guy, who turned out to be the same age as me. They were all training to be tour operators and were all giggles and fashionable clothes. After sitting around on the already mosquito-laden coach for an hour we finally departed. I was sat one seat forward from the very back and had two to myself. A middle-aged Spanish man was sat on the seats parallel to mine and his friend sat defiantly on the back row by himself, undoubtedly smugly contemplating a kingsize bed for the journey. Then a french couple boarded the coach last minute and headed the only two seats available together: the back row. The Spanish man actually told them they couldn't sit there because he wanted all five seats for himself to sleep on. I sneakily pretended to be asleep so I didn't get involved. The 6 foot 5 French man eventually bagged him and his girlfriend two seats in the corner of the back row and the Spanish man huffily sat in the seats behind me. What I thought would be a smooth journey given the size and relative modernity of the bus and Thailand's good roads, was not. The coach may as well have had square wheels. Still, I reclined my seat almost fully and tried to doze. Both the Spanish men were now sat behind me and had taken to kicking my seat every now and then in the hope I'd put my seat back up. I'd paid 300 baht for a reclining seat and so that was what I intended to do: recline. I stubbornly decided it was their comeuppance for being so selfish and trying to get a backseat space monopoly in the first place. At the stop halfway one of the Spanish men approached me and signalled with his hands to put my seat up, I simply feigned misunderstanding and walked off shrugging my shoulders.

12 hours and about 1 hours worth of dozing later, we arrived in Chiang Mai. All the Thais in Bangkok would laugh and say 'Chang Mai cooollld' and I just assumed by cold, they meant about 20 degrees i.e. perfect bikini weather for British. But as we stepped off the coach I realised they actually meant really cold, especially in comparison to the sweatbox that is Bangkok. We were ferried to one guesthouse outside the old city, but I wanted to stay inside the old city which is surrounded by a moat and old walls. Luckily a sweet and beautifully compact couple from Singapore were heading in that direction too and knew Chiang Mai well, so they showed me to the guesthouse I wanted to stay at. Much to my dismay it was full, so I headed onto another street and found a room. I wandered back to Julie's for food though and there I met a Dutch girl looking for a room and so I recommended my guesthouse. We then set off to explore Chiang Mai and then at Julie's acquired a Dutch and Norweigen guy for our explorations. The four of us wandered the streets, sampling street stall snacks of fish and chicken balls and spring rolls. The city itself is a large, bustling place, but not as overwhelming as Bangkok. It still suprisingly retains some of the atmosphere of a town, despite the mass of go-go bars and huge 5 star hotels. By a taxi truck that weaved speedily up through the hills we visited Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep, a temple on a hill that overlooks Chang Mai. Fantastic views, but I think I had reached Wat saturation point. On the way back we found an army shop that was stocked with all that any aspiring Ray Mears could wish for. Stuart decided to buy camoflage trousers for his trek. Sanna and I contemplated buying army tshirts. We had a few beers on Julie's rooftop terrace and then went to bed. The sleep deprivation was now catching up with me.

At about 9am, whilst I was getting ready, I heard Stuart's voice outside our rooms. We'd booked onto a Thai Cookery course the previous day and had assumed we'd go in the morning and tell them we wanted to go in the evening. It turns out they'd booked us onto the day course and they were waiting for us at Julie's, so Stuart who was actually staying there had come to wake us up and collect us. Sanna had just woken up so after a five minute turnaround we ran to Julie's for a quick breakfast before they picked us up and took us to the local market. At the market they told us about the different herbs, spices, rice, noodles and vegetables used in Thai cooking. The woman seemed impressed that I knew what Lemongrass was. We then left for the cookery school. We spent the day making 6 dishes each and eating them. Our teachers were Thai girls studying English who were absolutely hilarious and sweet enough not to kill me when some chilli from the green curry paste I was grounding in a pestle and mortor flew into one of the girl's eyes; when she emerged ten minutes later after bathing her eye she just smiled and said 'no worry'. It was such a fun day and by the end of it we all had 'food babies' as the Thai girls put it (it seems girls the world over have universal concepts for stuffing themselves and getting a 'pouge'). The food I made was rather delicious if I do say so myself, so expect me to be rustling up 6 course Thai banquets on my very faraway return.

Sanna and I headed to the Night Bazaar that evening. It's a crazy labrinyth of stalls selling the usual garb: silk scarves, clothes, fake designer sunglasses, painting, Buddhas etc. and vendors shout at you 'Hellooo miss, how are you today? you buy?'. Haggling is a hilarious art form. Many times you just casually ask how much, not that you want to buy it, you just want to know the price and upon walking away they'll be screaming 'I DISSSSSSSSSCOUNT FOR YOU! HOW MUCH? YOU BUY?!'. No, if you're going to scream at me like a wailing banshee, I won't buy. I bought a Thai shoulder bag though, an obligatory purchase if in Thailand. Sanna ordered a Buddha painting from a young, hip Thai artist, so we'd have to return that next night for more shopping. Shame that.

The next day Sanna was going to the Elephant Park and the boys were heading to upto Pai. I decided to go to a Yoga class and so after breakfast with a Dutch/Columbian couple at good old Julie's (we may as well have been staying there) I set off, a tuk-tuk driver I asked for directions informed me that it was just down the road. I found the Yoga studio, but it was closed and locked-up and a bar owner across the road told me they'd moved houses to down the road. So I set off again, dangerously close to the starting time, but I just could not find it. I got very upset as I'd been looking forward to the Yoga and felt I really needed to do some. So feeling sorry for myself, I wandered the streets of Chiang Mai sobbing. A little melodramatic possibly. I decided to check out the Arts and Cultural Centre instead, thinking Art & Culture would also satisfy my craving for something more meaningful. The Centre is actually the Chiang Mai version of Tales of Robin Hood, only on a larger and slightly more sophisticated scale. There are maps, 3D displays detailing Chiang Mai's development since prehistoric ages, which is based around the logging of Teakwood and the development of the railway line. Not quite the cultural experience I had been craving though.

That night we returned to the Bazaar to pick up the painting and for me to get a scarf. We'd been told it was even colder in Pai, where we were heading to tomorrow. We grew bored with trudging through the labrinyth though and went back to the guesthouse via Julie's. The anticipation of Pai was growing as the Thai artist had exploded with excitement when we told him we were off to Pai tomorrow and enthused about the place, telling us where to go and what to do. It was time to sample the Pai so many people had recommended to me.

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