Jungles and Rivers

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And so, a nice early morning at 9. Which wasn't too bad because we had been sensible the previous night and only stayed up till 1. The walk home was a little interesting/unnerving. We encountered two gangs of possibly rabid dogs that thankfully distracted each other allowing us to make our escape. Also got locked out because the hotel person didn't tell us how to get in when it's late. Were saved by someone just leaving for a night out, and managed to sneak in through the door.

Note to self - there's no point in spending extra on air conditioning if you turn it up to 25 degrees anyway.

But anyway. Got on the taxi (back of a truck) only an hour after meeting and tried to settle down for the hour or so journey. After an hour we had driven back to our road three times to pick people up after driving to the edge of town repeatedly to pick up others. Maybe someone should point out, it might be better to order the pickups based on geographical location instead of alphabetical order. But the group seemed pretty good - we heard everyone gets told "there are a couple of English people and some Autralians and some people like you", which usually means one Dutch family.

We stopped at the tourism police station (so they could get permission to not care if we get hurt) and a guy called John Collins came over to tell us about the police. Anybody who has seen a stereotypical NYPD blue policeman who keeps vowing "just one more job" will know exactly who I mean. He told us just to ring 1155 if we have a problem in Thailand. I pointed out we were going to the jungle so maybe wouldn't have access to a landline. He made a joke about ringing 1122 for pizza and left. Apparently if we have a problem and see a police car, that's good because the number's on the side of the car, not because we can stop the car and ask for help that way.

On the way, we stopped at a market to buy a 'wife-beater', not my first choice of top as you would all know, but I required something providing (or more accurately, allowing) a little armpit breeze. Holly found one of those comical conical hats they wear in Vietnam, and we squeezed back into the taxi to head junglewards. I managed to see, through the small amount of available window (due to the ridiculously low roof), an ox-bow lake for one of the first times since year nine geography. For those who don't believe me, I have pictures of bushes blocking the view and the annoyed looks of people who have a camera shoved in their faces.

By time we started the trek it was about two. Apparently it was going to take 3 hours. Piece of cake. Funny thing is, it actually wasn't too difficult. Apart from one point where I was looking up at an apparent monkey and walked off the path (onto ants), and walking behind a dog for a large part (the jungle view being replaced with testicles and a bottom), it was manageable.

When we arrived at the village, the first thing I did was take off my sodden wet clothes and start wiping the mud off with our last remaining wipes. The first thing Holly did was step straight through the bamboo flooring of our hut in her rush to get a bed with a mosquito net. Discovering they actually had cold beers I could buy (and drink) in the room we were staying in, I suddenly regretted carrying the two (warm) pint bottles of beer all the way up the mountain.

Dinner was pretty good, green Thai curry specially made for the tourists fed up of spicy food after the previous night's cookery course. Then they brought a guitar out and we sat singing classic western songs, much like the previous night in Chiang Mai. I did them a favour by tuning their woefully dischordant guitar.

When we got into bed, after stargazing and watching the clouds roll in for a while, Holly commented on the thousands of dogs barking outside. She didn't seem too reassured when I told her she may as well just pretend it's one because she only needs to get bitten by one to get rabies. Nor did it help when I pointed out that our mosquito net was designed to stop mosquitos - and if a mosquito can't fit through the holes in it, there's no chance a dog will be able to. Nevertheless, we settled into an earplug-aided sleep.

First thing in the morning, while I sat eating my delicious but cold scrambled eggs and incredibly sugary jam on toast, I though that this wasn't so much a tribal visit, like I expected, as a visit to see the rural life of Thais. I started thinking of a group of Japanese tourists coming to spend a night in a barn in Yorkshire, discussing their cramped smelly journeys on the underground over some PG Tips and a ploughmans.
"Traditionally, the men would go out and plow during the day while the women stayed in and did the ironing and cooked a roast."
"Why farmer have shop selling jams?"
"Well, the increased fuel costs, along with various crop restrictions often relating to the EU's common agricultural policy, have forced farmers to diversify in an attempt to increase income."
"Eh?"

Afterward, we ventured down the hill. Fortunately it had been raining in the night so all of us who fancied repeatedly sliding onto our bums into red clay-mud in our inadequate hiking shoes were very satisfied. We did see a huge beetle thing that I held, which walked up to the end of my fingers and sprouted a couple of wings before flying off. This culminated in an intense low-speed chase of us trying to pick our way across a very wet muddy portion of path while a squadron of elephants slowly closed in behind us, kicking exceptionally dirty water or possibly even trampling on us. A couple of minutes later we were on these very elephants. A bit of an experience. I've done it a couple of times last year, but both times on reasonable easy ground and with a guide/driver close by. No such luck this time. As soon as we got on, it just started walking off towards the river, apparently leading the group. It walked along a tiny, very steep muddy path that was clearly crumbling into the water, and then of course walked down the other side, so our seat would slide back forwards to its starting position. To top it all off, it would stop every 30 seconds and stick it's trunk up until we gave it a tiny banana.

Never mind, we made it out that time alright. Next was the white water rafting, down a river that looked quite muddy and suspiciously more turbulent than anything that would be considered safe. This was of course confirmed at one especially white water section when there were a group of men standing by the side of the river, and another already in the water on a rescue rope. Apparently four out of five boats have someone fall in. At least we can take solace in the fact that A: we got out alive, B: if people had died, they might have the sense to close the attraction, and C: it was wicked. This led neatly onto the bamboo rafting, where we sat on an apparently decaying few pieces of bamboo, and trying to clean off all the sticks and pollution foam while enjoying the view.

When we got off further down the river, we all thoroughly enjoyed sitting for an hour feeling a bit stupid that we had left all of our possesions a mile up the river with the tour guide. But, they did show up eventually and we crammed into the back of a pickup again. Much hilarity for a fly on the wall ensued, with Holly and I sitting at the rear of the truck, when the back door just... fell open. We pondered if this would be a problem to fix until the driver came around and tied a little bit of plastic onto one of the catches, when all of our deepest fears were finally settled. When it started raining we realised we were a little pathetic, as the rain was somehow curling back into the truck and soaking our swimming costume clad bodies with uncharacteristicly cold rain for Thailand. This was fixed when we fashioned a lovely rear cover for the truck out of two brightly coloured ponchos. What was funny was all the Thais driving past didn't seem to give the truck with a cheap plastic pink and turqoise rear end a second look at all, suggesting this sort of thing was all too common on the motorway.

After having a nice real shower and getting dressed, we headed back to the live music bar from the other night, and I learnt how to say "she's my sister, no thank you" to the endless street merchants selling us roses. Our plan was not to get too drunk before heading off to Laos the following morning. Of course this failed miserably.

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Photos

The View From the Village
Shame about the weather... But it still looks pretty good.

The Bamboo Toilets
Quite good quality, if you're looking for cold dripping showers and sinkless squat toilets made of bamboo on the top of a mountain.

Campfire
Sitting round the campfire drinking and singing guitar-like. Notice the open flames in a contained wooden structure.

Hungry Hungry Elephant
Here's a banana now start walking you fat creature. Although it was very fun sticking bananas as far as you can up its nostrils.

Elephant Path
This is a steep uphill section of path that unfortunately does not quite capture the horror of traversing it on an unguided elephant.

Holly Looking Very Wet and Cold
Cold rain and wind and lack of clothing make Holly a sad girl. But an amazing makeshift shelter that was as good as anything you normally get in the country.