Advertisement
Published: March 18th 2009
Edit Blog Post
The exhalation of fresh air that was traditional Laos soon gave way to the inhalation of another new world, light years ahead. Just steps over the border into Thailand, we were greeted with the warm luminous glow of 7/11 signs and other amenities that represent modern civilization. As wonderful as Laos was in its primitivism, it was great to be able to stroll inside those glass doors and see familiar brand names gracing the labels of those mass produced provisions we call snacks. Oh thank heaven for 7/11.
After two days of traveling by slow boat up the Mekong River, our weary bones needed a rest. In the northernmost border town of Chiang Rai, we found a pleasant little guesthouse via Lonely Planet’s recommendation. We didn’t do much in Chiang Rai except for rest, re-up on books, and reacclimatize our stomachs to food portions up to our western standards. We stumbled upon a little restaurant called Rosa’s, which happened to be run by a woman from La Mesa (just outside San Diego) and we were delighted. Some home-style food and generous proportions sure tipped the comfort meter for us. We gave Rosa a hug and told her it
was the best meal we’d had in weeks. Not to ridicule Laos in any way, but sticky rice and noodle soup bowls tend to leave something to be desired in the ole bowels. Good thing its neighbor, Thailand, is experienced in catering to the big bellies of western travelers.
Chiang Mai was the next stop on our journey south. One of my favorite places thus far, Chiang Mai has something for everyone- minus the beach. Situated in the northwest, at the base of a mountain range and national parks, the city is rich in history and packs a punch to the senses. The ancient city was once fortified by a square moat surrounding four walls. Now the moat acts as a central attraction where shops and restaurants jostle one another for business from us and others like us- sweaty farang (foreigners) looking to get the best deal around. The other main attraction is the Night Bazaar. A dizzying array of makeshift shops and carts hawking everything from hand-woven pillow cases to DVD’s, the market is erected nightly as the sun goes down and it spans multiple city blocks. Speaking of pillow cases, Meg decided to pick up a
couple, of which we will base the entire interior design of our yet-to-be-acquired chateau. And the Sunday Market! Even bigger than the Night Bazaar, it sprawled over the entire area of the inner city. Our entire dinner was comprised of random bits of street food: a sausage stick here, a mango shake there, a stuffed crab over there, a Thai iced tea to wash it down. The prices were unbeatable; nothing we ate cost more than ten Baht (about 30 cents). Aside from all there is to do within
the city, there’s even more fun to be had outside of the city…
We booked a three day/two night trek at our guesthouse from Tee, the extremely nice woman who interrupted her hair dying session to help us out. The trip was to include jungle trekking, stays at hill tribe villages, elephant riding, white water rafting, and bamboo rafting. It was all of that and more.
We were picked up in a sangtheaw (pick up truck taxi) and introduced to our companions on the trip- a French family of three. Many of these treks are groups of ten or more so we were very lucky to have
such a small group- two guides for five trekkers- not bad. After a long ride up a bumpy unsealed pot-hole ridden road, we reached our trail head. Our official guide, Ali, wandered down from the hills, walking sticks in hand (one for each trekker) and our journey began. Ali was great. Singing misinterpreted lyrics from American pop music, he led our path through the mighty jungle. Those first few kilometers were the hottest of the whole trek. The sunlight on the skin felt like a primed rib being seared on the grill, and the shady canopy of the jungle was a welcome relief. The necessity and consumption of water had taken on a whole new meaning. The pleasure of downing the much needed liquid in the midday jungle sun far exceeded that of an evening glass of water in the kitchen back home. And by far I mean by miles.
In the first hours of the trek, the steps of our feet were leaps of exploration. Bugs cackling at volumes unheard of, monstrous alien spiders, vegetation that “fell asleep” when touched. Not to mention our other guide, Bank, thought it was funny to tickle you in the ear
with a stick and say “Spider! Spider!” Ha ha, jerk. Meg tried to explain the story of “the boy who cried wolf,” but the language barriers were too obtrusive- between the two Thai guides and the family of three straight out of Paris. Nevertheless, by evening we made it to the village of the Lahna people at the top of the mountain. Rickety bamboo shacks with thatch roofing and more holes in the wall than a Cambodian prison camp dotted the hillside and our dwelling was right in the middle, complete with mosquito net and half inch thick bedding pad (and a squat toilet/bucket shower a short walk away). That night Ali cooked up some to-die-for potato curry and vegetable fried rice. We were amazed with what this guy could do with just a wok and some coals in a candle-lit kitchen. That night, after exchanging some guitar riffs with a couple hill tribe kids, we laid on the bamboo deck of our abode and gazed at the stars as we bombarded Ali with questions about his culture: his childhood, their marriage customs, funerary rites, religious beliefs, and much more. Once again, we danced the dance of language acrobatics and
we laughed at each other about our respective cultures. Ali was perplexed at the fact we had taken a five month holiday, and we were shocked that he had never seen the southern islands of his own country- which may be some of the most beautiful on the planet.
The next day’s trek was much easier on the body. Rather than huge hill climbs, it was mostly flat and shaded. We came to camp where a waterfall cleansed our salty skin and children competed for our attention by jumping off a log into the water. Another fantastic meal by Chef Ali and we were off again. This time we stayed at a small village with only one family host. That night we played some frustratingly entertaining brain teaser games. “Fit a square into a triangle,” “make three sticks into four.” The kind of games that had annoyingly simple answers yet kept us hypothesizing and analyzing and calculating for way too long.
The last day ended with a bang. Another waterfall break at a village, and another test of skills- the slingshot. Everyone lined up the target at took shots. No hits… Until you know who steps
up… Meg was the only one in the group to nail the target with a small stone flung from the primitive weapon. Another blast to my machismo. Damn.
Nearing the end, we took a sweet hour-long elephant ride through the hills and across a river, followed by a white water rafting session, and capped off with a mellow cruise on a handmade bamboo raft to the final destination. Although exhilarating, the white water rafting could have been better. Our French companions clearly lacked the paddling skills needed on the left side of the raft to navigate the river. Good thing for us it was the dry season and the river wasn’t raging to its fullest potential.
All said and done, Chiang Mai was great. I even got to eat Burger King (and McDonald’s) for the first time in four months. Two big macs, large fries, and a six piece nuggets later, I felt the like the guy in “Supersize Me.” And wonderfully so. Although roughing it is a great way to re-connect with nature, returning to civilization always has its benefits- even if it means ingesting a thousand calorie gut bomb like a big mac.
Next stop… the islands…
Advertisement
Tot: 0.102s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 12; qc: 72; dbt: 0.0689s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
Mom
non-member comment
I want to ride the elephant
I though the spiders were big in Baja! Geez.... Looks like an adventure every day. Glad you found American food - bet it tasted good!!!! Are there any monkeys? Love you guys.