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Phair, Loei Province: Thai-Laos Border
If only they would let me cross this border"Troubles, you see, is the generalization word for what God exists in. The thing is not to get hung up."
......................Jack Kerouac
This could just as easily have been titled The Travels of a Postmodern Monk: Zen by Zak and the Art of Motorbike Abuse. Much of my recent visa run to Laos involved riding over 1,400 miles (2,281km) on my (vintage 2004) 100cc Honda Wave Scooter. I found myself riding over mountain ranges, through cities, towns, villages and along the roughly paved borderlands of Thailand and Laos. Along the way, I incurred three flat tires and somehow cluelessly ran the engine without oil for a long stretch in the afternoon heat. This doesn't include another 700 mile journey in which I returned to the Thai-Laos border, by bus, to pick up the visa I had absent-mindedly left behind.
Even if it might appear as you read this that I found the some of the "troubles" that Kerouac insinuates as part of the almighty, I didn't allow myself to get hung up (or if I did it wasn't because of travel related troubles). And if I found any part of God it was only
Bangkok
My good friend Yngve, photographed and then virtually brushed the G and the O, "Go! Go! Go!". Don't let the apparent broken heart shape of my map fool ya, its only symbolizes the trajectory and not the content of my blood flow. Smoothness is not my game. Life is much more gritty than that.
The week before I set off for Laos I purchased a used Honda Wave scooter for 20,000 baht and prepared myself for leaving the country, something I need to do every three months given my lack of institutional sponsorship. I currently volunteer with about three different organizations in Chiang Mai on a sporadic part-time basis and without pay. (One for Burmese migrants, one that teaches visual literacy and another that holds film festivals for documentary films). I am very happy with the arrangements except for the those involving my visa. It is a hassle that could easily be smoothed out if I were willing to commit myself for a more long term position.....but I am not there yet. Unslaked wanderlust for the road and a growing curiosity about Asian worlds have me in persistent seeker mode.
Often during the hot afternoon sun of the journey I would take a
Khon Kaen City
One night here before reaching Nongkhai. Stayed here on my trip back to pick up my visa as well. I wrote much of my MA thesis near this lake several years ago. break and read Robert Pirsig's
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I thought about his words that Zen is the "spirit of the valley" and that "there are no motorcycles on the tops of mountains, and in my opinion very little Zen." I spent much of this trip near the tops of mountains but also in a number of valleys. It wasn't Zen I was looking for but a "romantic reality" that he characterizes as "the cutting edge of experience." But the cutting edge that is found in a "traditional knowledge" defined as the "collective memory of where the cutting edge has been," was what would invigorate my romantic imaginings. Rich simple beauty was found in the multiplicitous but warm social relations I encountered with so many people in both Thailand and Laos, containing some of the world's richest mountain and valley hinterlands.
A few days before the Thai New Year I packed my backpack and collected my camera gear and set off in the afternoon for Bangkok aboard my Honda Wave. I passed by Lamphun city and just before reaching the city of Lampang my bike started to sputter. I was out of gas! But
not to worry as a PTT Station with 7-Eleven and Amazon Cafe happened to be just across the road and I barely managed to roll in and fill up. These fillup islands which litter the main highway from Chiang Mai to Bangkok, particularly near major cities, are much like their US brethren. From Lampang I proceeded along the mountain highways that run through the rugged Kampeng Phet province before stopping for a few hours at a cafe to avoid the treacherous afternoon heat. A cute local woman was selling homemade durian ice cream there which I quickly acquired and scarfed down all the while chatting each other up. Alas, she wasn't coming with me.
As sunrise approached, I hit the road again just outside Nakhon Sawan city and lightning soon lit up the sky in the direction where I was heading. I stopped to put on my pancho and zoomed headlong into the waiting storm. I was soon moving at a snail's pace through a downpour and could see no more than 20 feet in front of me. My instrument panel soon crapped out and only my headlights were still functioning. Working headlights were enough to keep
Wat Pho Chai: Nongkhai
For me a somewhat romantic, time-honored tradition means exhilaration. me plowing onward. However, from then up to present, I no longer have a functioning speedometer, gas gauge or odometer. I pushed on and soon escaped the storm. After passing through Chainat province I soon found myself nearing Saraburi, only two hours or so from Bangkok.
The view from a bike riding along the highway's shoulder as you get closer to Bangkok can be summed up with one image: dogs fast asleep on the tarmac (but shrouded in darkness). I nearly hit several of them in the dimming light as all at once they seemed to be nearly everywhere. Paradoxically, it wasn't really until I got to the city outskirts and center that I was able to relax my awareness a bit. It was actually quite pleasant riding around Bangkok after midnight when I arrived, with the exception of potholes everywhere that shook up my already traumatized bike. Many of the streets were near empty and traffic was very light. I arrived in the early Sunday morning hours and everyone was probably saving up their money for the upcoming New Year holiday rather than having a late Saturday night out. I had little trouble navigating my way
to my place on my friend Yngve's couch in the Victory Monument area. We had some time to catch up before he heads back to Norway. Just over 24 hours later, at dawn before traffic got going, I headed for the city of Nongkhai which sits on the grand Mekong River across the way from Vientaine, the capital city of Laos. BTW.....It is pronounced and spelled with no "s" on the end (likely an American or European creation) so you will hear people in Thailand and Laos refer to it as Lao just as it is spelled in native tongues. Lose the lisp.
"The real cycle your working on is a cycle called yourself."
.....................Robert Pirsig
I stopped to buy some fruit just before reaching Khorat, the most populous city in Northeastern Thailand and a manuacturing corridor for Bangkok. Small mountains with occasional Buddhist temples jutting upward and outward lined the road in the distance and huge trucks destined for factories belched black smoke. I imagine I resembled a coal miner by the end of the day. The stretch from Bangkok to Khorat with multiple lanes, much like an American freeway, is the
Vientiane City
Invited to the ceremony by a random stranger I met on the corner by a Buddhist chedi I was photographing just before the water festival got started. most unpleasant stretch if you are on bike. In a car I imagine it's great or eminently daydreamable.
More problematic than the black diesel dust was the flat tire I discovered after bargaining for some machit yom fruit (plumlike but smaller with a sweet and sour taste). I stopped at a little shack in the roadside dust to sit and think with a snack and cool drink while asking the owners, a thirtyish couple nursing a newborn. An air of simplicity borne of simple means pervaded the place, but I was entranced by the rich warmth of the owner nursing her baby and the relaxed nature of the father taking a nap in a hammock hung under the trees just outside the shop. They pointed me towards a place up the road where I could get my tire repaired.
Less than 2km up the road was a pa yang stand. (tire repair) There was still enough air in the tire for me to ride the distance slowly. My problems are apparently as common as the black exhaust clouds along the highway in these parts. Twenty minutes later and one dollar poorer I was on
Vientiane City
The youthful energy of Pee Mai Laos, the Laos New Year and water festival. my way again. The young man who fixed my tire chatted me up a bit as he quickly did the repairs. It reinforced my thoughts that the motorbike is the most local of transport in this region. No other form of motorized transportation competes in sheer numbers or access to people. It is great when you are in a pinch because even remote villages have spare parts and mechanics. My 'quality' experience was a counterpoint to Pirsig's self-reliance in repairing his motorcycle, shared with the people along the way who helped me rather than with those I brought along or the actual knowledge for repairs.
I soon found a roadside stand selling kai yang (grilled chicken) and somtam (papaya salad) which I slowly enjoyed in the shade. I would soon roll into Khon Kaen and sleep along the lake, Bung Kaenakon, before continuing on at sunrise. The next morning after several hours I reached Udon Thani, about an hour south of Nongkhai. The roads from Khorat to Udon Thani are flat and deathly hot. People selling fruit, vegetables and a wide array of snacks sit in stalls along the highway shoulder for much of the way. Udon,
even more so than Khon Kaen, has all the amenities, so I had lunch at the food court of a nearby air-conditioned shopping mall and rested for a few hours at a nearby cafe before continuing on.
About two hours before sunset, I parked my motorcycle along the edge of the Mekong River and bought myself a cold drink at a hotel there with a riverside view. Soon after, I found myself another room at a smaller place along the river. I would stay there two nights. The first night was on the eve of the Thai New Year, Songkran. I outfitted my camera with all the plastic and tape I could find in preparation for the shooting the next day's event. The hotel staff indulged my inquiries contributing a much needed ziploc bag. I ate some sticky rice and nam phrik (fish paste) with the staff, part Laos and part Thai, and did my best to keep a conversation going. Bangkok Thai was the mediating dialect.
My trip thus far underscored my utter dependence on a multitude rather than just myself, but to meet and interact with so many made the journey seem
Ngum River, Vientiane Province
Eating "jumping shrimp" with Chula studies friend Sy and his wife. almost infinitely sustainable. I gathered encouragement to continue but also to enjoy the ride at a reasonable pace. Sitting and eating with them was an apt form of conditioning for much of the trip as it was something I would do over and over during the trip.
The next morning, I found a nice place serving Thai porridge with pork bits (pronounced like Joke) and headed for Wat Pho Chai where Songkran would kick off. Out front a procession of monks were lined up to receive big packages of goodies from a huge mob of people young and old. Nongkhai is known as a sleepy town but the temple was packed in anticipation of seeing the sanctuary's primary budda image. The image would soon descend the temple steps and circumabulate the temple three times before being carried around town with an accompanying parade of monks, beauty queens, officials and floats. On the town streets, little water stations were set up in front of people's homes. The stations ranged from picnic-like to party-like but all had plenty of ammunition, abundant water reserves for dousing passers-by.
I waited below the temple steps for the monks to
lead the buddha image out. It was a mob once the water came out. Pushed from side to side I was marginally able to get clear footage, celebratory chaos surrounded me and pushed me around. I wandered the streets for a while shooting and then I was invited to sit with three Thai gentleman about my age. My camera at this point was near useless having fogged up quite a lot. The three guys were fun for a bit (They were nice guys) but soon their excessive drinking became to be quite a bore so I headed back to my hotel around sunset. I would have to dry out my passport first which somehow, along with all my cash, had gotten drenched through the plastic bag I put them in. And my camera lens was still fogged up. The next day I would cross the border to Laos to enjoy the water festival there. (Laying them out on the bed worked and sitting the lens in front of a fan overnight worked wonders)
"So in America when the sun goes down.................nobody, just nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old."
.............................. Jack Kerouac
I found a cheap place right along one of the main strips going through the capital city of Laos, Vientiane. My plan, like in Nongkhai, was to shoot as much of the water festival as I could. I had no idea how it would all come out so my aim was just to wander the streets and shoot and see what happened. I had done this last year without producing any great images, but I did have a blast doing it. This time I had brought I better camera but I'm not sure I was any better technologically equipped. I put a clear plastic bag with a hole cut in it for the lens and held it together with copious amounts of tape.
The water festivities mostly anchored on street corners, in front of people's businesses or homes, and in the back of pickup trucks had an army of young people equipped with a broad variety of water ejaculating tools. Thumping stereo beats with fashionably dressed young people swaying their hips brought me reminders of the craziness on Bangkok's Khao San Road (or Silom) but smaller scale. Perhaps it was
the group of ladyboys who grabbed my nuts as I was strolling along taking snapshots that gave me this impression. Or was it the copious amounts of alcohol being downed to a hip hoppy, poppy beat? I spent the better part of the first day shooting on my own and canvassing the main strip along the river.
From my perspective, Vientiane, with its large youth population (studying and working), resembled Bangkok in minature for this holiday but not exclusively so, that is just how I thought about it. A section on the river that had a concert sponsored by Beer Laos (a cultlike beverage in Laos) and hundreds popping up and down to the rhythm made me think of Central World in Bangkok in front of which big name concerts are often held. The contrasts and similarities caught my imagination. In Laos, the main venue sat astride the Mekong River, in Bangkok, one of the main venues is a shopping mall. Escape from the heat in this part of Vientiane usually involves making choices (cafe, temple, the river, etc.) rather than one choice (the shopping center), but on this day water provided relief from the heat was
nearly everywhere.
I met with a Swede married to a Laotian for a bit who runs a hospital here and really (I mean really!) likes to drink and talk about himself. On the second afternoon, the last day of the water festival, I met a group of NGO workers (basically non-profit or volunteer work) who gleefully invited me to join them. They let me shoot quite a lot of photos and I hope some of them were good but it was fun. They took me to dinner and then we parted. Many of us are now Facebook friends and hopefully closer that after our encounter should we meet again.
I hit the streets looking for the tail end of the event before heading back to my super cheap no air-con room to chat with the quiet but intelligent young man who is the day manager there. He and I chatted a lot during my four or five days stay. He seemed stuck and resigned to his fate working (with little time for play), but not in an any agnst ridden way. Here was a focused intelligent young man who didn't even have email! I
don't know how that sounds but I found it hard to believe that someone who spoke English as well as he and working in a place that regularly deals with foreign travelers was forced or willing to accept this situation. I think if it was cheaper, or if he was paid more, things would be different. Are my cheap ass ways to blame? Is it even a bad thing that he doesn't have email?
On a walk during my first morning in the city, I met a Laotian man who invited me to a baci ceremony (see pictures) and party that they were having for their family friend, a policeman, who had just received a promotion. My new friend is a tuk-tuk driver who recently had an accident and was out of work. He had just built a house and had a baby on the way. He and I met and talked at length since he had the time. I met with him several times during my visit. I vowed to send him some of the many photos I took of the baci ceremony once I returned to Chiang Mai. I would like to get his prints
Central Bus Station: Vientiane
Even in the shadows I see motorcycles out soon.
On the first day, I also met my long time school chum Ting and new wife Kratai for a quick coffee in-between the water madness. He is still working for a UN women's program trying to save money and dreams of a farm in the countryside one day. Perhaps he will need farmhands at one point if they don't grow a few themselves. Ting has perhaps the most pleasant demeanor of all my friends. He just glows.
The Thai embassy was closed during the New Year holiday so I had a few days to fart around Vientiane. I spent a day with my university friend Sy, newly married, who lives in Vientiane with his wife. He took me to the nearby Ngum river to hang out and eat copious dishes of salad, marinated meat, sticky rice, and grilled fish. My favorite was the raw shrimp dish, called "jumping shrimp", tiny little shrimp from the river are served as a salad with a spicy, sour sauce. Perhaps it is a little like eating Malpeque oysters when you are in PEI with cocktail sauce, but with lots of horseradish added. Sy and his new
Mekong River: Vientiane Province
Very close to Loei province and Chiang Khan where the river loses the islands wife have invested in a new car, land and soon a home with children(they are trying!).
It would be a few more days before I could apply for and pickup my visa so I farted around Vientiane and along the Mekong for a few days. Around sunrise on the Mekong was the nicest time to sit and play with all the functions on my camera. Kids play, adults aerobicize, teenagers hang out, neighbors chat, and everyone else sits on the riverside or in the bars and restaurants along the main
Rue that lips the river. I soaked up the ambience nearly every evening while I was there. Complementary to Kerouac's assertions about the uncertainty of what happens after nightfall, my time in Vientiane would attest in equal measure that daytime is hardly predictable. And that was just the way I liked it.
After several more days in Vientiane, I submitted and picked up my visa and headed to Phonsavan, the subject of my previous blog:
http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Laos/East/Phonsavan/blog-714460.html "I was having a wonderful time and the whole world opened up before me because I had no dreams."
.......................Jack Kerouac
After returning from Phonsavan, I headed directly for the bus station where I waited for more than an hour to catch the next bus to the Thai-Laos border. I got bored there and ended up taking pictures of people's shadows for fun until the bus arrived. I didn't get any signals that people would let me stick my camera in their face and conversation was muted so I figured what the hell. Three hours later I was across the border in Thailand with my visa in hand. I soon headed to the hotel where I stayed before to pick my Honda Wave which they had let me park there. Rather than drive at night I decided to spend the night and leave at sunrise the next morning. Besides, my tire was near flat, again(!), and I needed to visit a repair shop in the morning. Turns out this time it just needed a new valve.
My loose plan, not fully mapped out, was to follow the often rugged roads along the Thai-Laos border which started tracking the Mekong River and ended up tracking mountains in national parks as you got further along.
I would follow that to the city of Nan, deep in the east part of Northern Thailand, a long-time crossroads for people from Laos, and then head west towards Chiang Rai and then Chiang Mai. Following this route was the main reason I brought my motorbike. I had a kind of dreamless suspicion that something fun or at least revealing would happen on my journey through here.
The first night I made my way along country roads with little local gas stations, sugar cane stands and small towns. I even passed through (Sri) Chiang Mai which is just across the river from Vientiane. I was nearly home and didn't even know it! I had hoped to reach the touristy (especially for Thais) but rustic looking city of Chiang Khan in Loei province which sits prettily on the Mekong River and has been an entrance point for migrants and shoppers from Laos on other side for a long time. A long walkway lines the Mekong with a very open view and old wooden buildings now set up for tourists line narrow streets. It is the kind of place worth a look at least once although I had slept
Loei Province
After a cracked tire there once before years ago. I found a place along the main strip out of town that featured a clean bed, cold shower and fan for about five bucks. The wooden spots along the river had outrageous prices for my budget, they went for about twenty bucks and up a night.
The next morning I aimed for Nan, some 200 plus km away, with no expectation of getting there. A nurse I used to date in Bangkok liked to call me Phi Tong Luang (The Yellow Leaf People) after a hunting-gathering group of Nan province that was once the subject of numerous ethnographies. One scholar refers to this mountainous region as Zomia (Northern Thailand, Northern Laos, Northern Burma, Northern Vietnam, Eastern Cambodia, Northeastern Bangladesh and parts of Yunnan and Sichuan China), "the largest remaining region of the world whose peoples have not yet been incorporated into nation-states." The Phi Tong Luang are now more settled and nation-states are in their usual scramble for the abundant natural resources in the area, but I wanted to see what the landscape in Nan was like even though I have been through much of 'Zomia' elsewhere. Across the border in some
of the mountanous parts of Laos, things are much less settled than in Nan where I would stop. I am hoping to get up into those mountains at some point.
The roads to Chiang Khan are paved and only mildly bumpy. Winding through mountains and along old country roads full of potholes with long unpaved stretches, I had a feeling this would be the most hellish travel of the trip but perhaps the most scenic. The first part was along the Mekong River and this is quite well paved. Surprisingly you can barely see the river as it has islands filling its middle for miles on end. Perhaps during the wet season the water is more visible, but of course the roads less navigable.
Several hours later I would be in the heart of Loei province, a mountainous dry place. In the early morning I took a drive through the mountains of Phu Rua National Park. It was disappointing and hazy and hot, but the drive there through a number of small towns was fun. I had a chat with the guard who sits at the foot of a bridge on the Thai-Laos border,
one of many small such points in these parts. After stopping a nearby small town for a cup of coffee at a small little town, with wifi(!), I headed for customs at the border. I wanted to ask them what kind of paperwork I would need to get my motorbike into Laos. (This will be my next trip perhaps). It sounded easy but we will see when I get back to Chiang Mai.
After leaving the park, I plowed ahead staying as close to the border as I could according to my sometime functional GPS. I soon ended up on gravelly country roads or paved roads with huge holes in them. At least there were some trees to shade my way. I soon realized, in what seemed like a middle of nowhere forest, that my rear tire had cracked open and was losing air pressure at an alarming rate. I bet the temperature was close to 40 degrees celsius in the sunlight. I was soon walking with my bike with no idea of where the next repair station would be.
After about 20 minutes a pickup flew by and then backed up. A balding
Thai man probably about my age peeked his head out the window and asked if I needed help. The delivery was very imperfect but I got the point. He soon loaded my bike into the back of his truck and dropped me off in a small village about 2km up the road where the back of someone's home doubled as a motorcycle repair shop. Apparently, my problem is quite common in these parts as I saw two others come in with the same problem while they replaced my tire and inner tubing. We joked and laughed a bit and I was soon on my way. It cost me less than fifteen dollars to have this done! I promised Nor, the gentleman who picked me up that I would stop at his school some two kilometers up the road.
I found Nor at a noodle shop where he invited me to sit and sponsored me with a bowl of kuaytiew moo (pork noodle soup) loaded with meat. He then told me he managed the town's main school and invited me back to come to teach some English lessons for a few days if I was free. At the
On the Road in Nan Province
Where are the "Watch Out for the Cow Shit" signs? time it was summer break and school was out so after I downed the noodles and we exchanged phone numbers I was on my way again. I told him I was thinking of a Laos road trip when my Thai visa was up in three months time and that I would try to stop by on my way there, motorcycle registration willing. At this point, I still only had the receipt for my bike and no valid registration.
By the time I continued on it was probably two in the afternoon. After an hour or so, I stopped at another charming border crossing in Phair along the way before continuing on. I soon entered Phitsanuloke province which is also very mountainous especially on the Thai-Laos border. I filled up in the village Of Ban Rom Klao and decided to check out a forest temple just nearby. I wandered in about 4pm (two hours before sunset) and eventually a monk came out and greeted me. He invited me and we talked and talked and talked. Before I knew it he had invited me to stay the night free of charge with all the Thai ramen noodles I could
ever desire. (The Thai brand name is Mama).
I sat with him for hours chatting away. He was fascinated by my camera and photos in general even though he only had a quite outdated digital camera. He knew more about camera specifications than I do, although I am a kind of learn as you go kind of photographer; and my road is a very, very slow one. His intelligence and curiosity were sharp and unrelenting. After listening to his discussion of Buddhist precepts, in drowse inducing Thai, he realized I needed some sleep. I slept in the room with his novice, in waiting?, who comes nearly every day all the way from Phitsanuloke city by motorbike (over 40km) to look after this learned monk who is about my age. The still teenage boy with pop rocker hairdo does the cooking and cleaning around the temple. He has some problems at home and I think the solitude of the temple and role modeling of my new friend was good for him. I really liked him.
The next morning at sunrise I got up. I was invited to do the alms rounds with my new friend
Bool: Plain of Jars
A common scene in Laos and Northeastern Thailand near the Laos border but my time was now running short. I only had three days to get back to Chiang Mai before my next English class (teaching Burmese migrants). I walked him out to the gate and then hit the road and we both parted with waves. I really hope I see him again.
After a beautiful sunrise over the mountains of Phu Soi Dao National Park, I headed in the direction of Nan once again. I soon found myself in the company of cows and chickens and dodging cow flops on the highway, if you could call it that. Soon I was on a dirt road with its electric lines just being laid. A construction crew invited me for a bite which I declined as nicely as I could. It was hot and the windy, steep and unpaved road road would stretch 20km before the next town. After my last flat tire, I was wondering what social opportunity awaited my next misfortune. It was not particularly fun driving so I stopped for ice cream and gas on the other side of the mountains. The next town was thirty minutes from Nan and I reached Nan city by lunch. I
Phayao Province
Me and my Honda Wave soon found a cafe to escape the heat. I contemplated sleeping there for the night and touring the town but I was still over 300km from Chiang Mai; a long way by motorbike. Given the heat, any exploring would be unpleasant until near sunrise.
I left Nan by early afternoon and stopped at a gas station where I discovered my oil tank was completely empty. Ouch! I filled up with oil and continued on after having a mechanic give it a quick look over. My four-stroke Honda Wave is an amazing piece of machinery. And even better, I don't need a computer technician to repair it! In any case, if only I could find smart phones, laptops and cameras that could withstand this kind of abuse. Then I would know that the words 'consumer demand' actually have some substance. I usually feel a bit like Robinson Crusoe when it comes to my having my needs met by the "free market" outside of food.
Surrounded by an airy mosaic of views beyond wordsmithing, I was soon cruising through the mountainous Phayao province. My old girlfriend Joy lives in the mountains here. There is a good stretch of
road about thirty to forty kilometers outside the town of Chiang Kham, where Tate and I worked on his documentary last year, that sits above a huge valley. For a time, it feels like you are flying through the mountains along a jetstream looking down on the valley and soaring between lofty glimmering peaks. At sunset the sublimity of it made me forget some the struggles I encountered on the rough and gritty roads of the morning. Only in Mae Hong Son province, have I experienced roads so tough but also filled with moments of majestic beauty like this. I soon made it to Chiang Kham and gassed up before driving another two hours on good roads, but in darkness to Chiang Rai city. I knew if I stopped in Chiang Kham to visit my old friends at the boxing camp it would not be brief and Chiang Rai was not a difficult ride even in the darkness. The roads were smooth from here on in. Comparatively, on the highways of Chiang Rai and Chiang Mai, time and distance collapse, rather than expand. My journey was near completion.
I found a place near the center to bunk up for the night and some noodles on the road nearby before cleaning up my dusty body. By sunrise I was destined to be on the road to Chiang Mai. And I was. I was back at my apartment on Nimmanhaeminda Road in Chiang Mai city nearly ten days after I had left. My classes would be on schedule the next day.
On a last note, like in those movies after the credits, I got a phone call about one day after I had left Nongkhai at the border. The maid had found my passport in my room. I knew I wouldn't make my class if I returned so I continued on. Three days after arriving in Chiang Mai I was on a bus back to the border. I decided to spend a few days in Khon Kaen, nearby, before returning to Chiang Mai about a week ago. Although I have used Kerouac as a muse through much of this, it is mostly his spirit of trying to have authentic relations with people on the road that I admire and his willingness to lose himself on the way. I am neither sure I am like him nor aspire to be, but his unquenchable hunger to search and his open approach to the road can be inspiring. When there is no tour guide, sometimes you need something to stick with however imperfect.
"To travel is better than to arrive."
...................Robert Pirsig
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Sandy
non-member comment
What a wonderful journey!
You are living a life few get the chance to have and it's only because you are so open to everyone and everything that others are so welcoming to you. Enjoy the ride while you are able. Love, Sandy