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Redwings Round the World Kerry and Laura's Big Adventure December 1997 - Januray 1999 |
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18 December 1997 We tried to make an early start for the big trip north, which Kerry and I had been planning for several weeks. We really did. But, last minute packing and writing of e-mails pushed us to the wire to get to the bus station --- a race that became a theme during our two-week journey from Phuket, at the southern end of Thailand, to Mae Sai, the northernmost point in Thailand at the border with Burma. We loaded our backpacks in a rental Suzuki jeep and Aaron zipped us from Redwings at the Boat Lagoon to the bus station in Phuket Town. We bought tickets with moments to spare. The bus rolled out before we even had a chance to settle in our seats. The trip off the island of Phuket was uneventful, except for the road conditions. Apparently, the roads are being fixed, although I would say that judging by the ruts and bumps and potholes, they have a ways to go. Kerry spent much of her time looking out the window at the beaches rolling by and saying "Oh look, doesn't that look great? Maybe we can stop here on the way back..." The beaches did look great. And we scoured the ever-reliable Lonely Planet for a clue as to exactly which beach we had passed. So eager were we for our excursion that we didn't forecast that on the return trip, with so many hours of bus trips behind us, we would be in too much of a daze to stop at any beach. The bus made one stop in Taqua Pa, where we bought some fresh-cut pineapple in a baggy and a couple of Cokes before rolling on to our destination of the day, Khao Sok National Park. The park lies about four hours north of Phuket. According to the park literature it is the only preserved place in southern Thailand that is vast enough for large mammals, such as elephants and tigers, to run wild. The bus driver dumped us off on the side of a hot dusty road after blowing past the park entrance by about a kilometer. Waiting there in his air-conditioned pick-up truck was Sow, a local Thai guy who said he owned some bungalows near the park. He would give us a ride there. No pressure. Just look. Sure, okay. We hopped in and Sou took us to Bamboo, where he and his pregnant wife had some cabins and tree houses next to a small river. Sou turned out to be something of a local entrepreneur. He also had a little restaurant, where his wife worked 24-hours a day, laundry service, and offered guided river trips and jungle treks. We happily snagged a tree house that was reasonably clean and had mosquito netting. Before readers start thinking this is all paradise, it's time for some honesty. I think it was then, perhaps, that exhaustion hit. After lunch at nearby Restaurant Nature (which had great banana chips) Kerry fell asleep in the treehouse while I read. I have to say that we were both rather grouchy for the first couple of days and argued over lots of little things that two people on vacation in Thailand probably shouldn't worry about --- like who drank the last of the water and who put the soap where. Primarily, we seemed to be unable to make decisions very easily, as was proved that first evening. We went to supper at Bamboo and as the tables were full, we sat with a young British guy who was on a bicycle trip. He had ridden through Nepal and Pakistan and was on his way to Phuket to meet some friends for Christmas. The first thing that happened was that Kerry and I accidentally ate our table-mate's supper. He was reading and not paying attention and since the waitress put it near us, we assumed it was ours. Oops, I guess we were hungry or still hadn't learned the difference between green curry and red curry. He didn't hold it against us, though and instead filled us in on his bike adventure. Then Sou wandered up and offered to take us on a three day hike to a nearby man-made lake. We would camp out and cook over a bamboo fire or something. Then we could explore the lake and see some caves. The cost was 2,500 baht --- or about $55 U.S. "You go on trek with me, maybe you see elephant. You go walk by yourself in jungle, maybe you see butterfly," Sou told us as his pitch. We said we'd think it over and then we hemmed and hawed and debated and said, well, if you really want to I will. That went on for an hour until the British biker finally said our discussion was the most indecisive chat he'd ever heard. In the end, we decided that obviously if we didn't jump at the opportunity, we didn't really want it. Although Sou was correct about the wildlife we saw, we weren't sorry we didn't go because we were fairly pooped from the Kings Cup and really just wanted to sit around and have our own schedule. Fortunately, this phase of tired, grouchy indecision didn't last long. On our second day in the park, we hit the trail. At park headquarters, just down the road from Bamboo, we checked out a map and picked out some waterfalls to walk to. The system of marked trails actually penetrated only a small portion of the park and it was essentially a trail on which we could walk out and back, branching off at various points to see caves or waterfalls or nice spots on the river. We ended up walking about seven kilometers to a nice little gorge. The trail was well-marked for the most part, except where we had to cross a river twice and got a bit confused. The jungle was cool and damp and filled with funky trees and birds. The river was full of fish. And yes, there were lots of butterflies, even neon green ones. We didn't see any tigers or elephants. Coming back, Kerry discovered a path that would take us up and around the bend in the river that we had twice crossed in the morning, thus saving us the prospect of getting our feet wet or breaking an ankle rock hopping. The alternative route had one disadvantage --- LEECHES! ICK! The wormy little creeps sneaked into our shoes and under our socks and sank their little suckers into our flesh to suck our blood. NASTY! I can't fathom why they were ever used for medicinal purposes. It makes me happy to live in a day and age in which it is preferable to inject chemicals into our systems as a cure. So, we walked as fast as we could until we rejoined the trail on which we'd been in the morning (and there were apparently, for some reason, no leeches). We spent some time sitting on a rock by the river picking the blood suckers off. I have to say that Kerry had it worse than I did, perhaps because she was walking in front. Our third say at Khao Sok was rather strange. The night before we had met a Thai guy named Tit (he spelled it for us) who said he's take us to see some caves for 250 baht. He said the caves were very interesting and he was a nice fellow so we agreed to go along. So we set out at about 10 a.m., crossed the river, some farmers fields and walked through a monastery. We were outside the park at this point. Tit led us to the side of a cliff onto which some rickety-looking ladders hung. He climbed up so I followed. At the top, the ladder was tied by an old, frayed rope to a rotting post that was wedged in a crevice. Above, the system of ladders was decayed completely. Apparently Tit hadn't visited the caves in a little while. We had no choice but to go back down. At the bottom, Tit chewed on a blade of grass for a while and then led us around the base of the cliff. At this point we were scrabbling through the brush and over rocks. We both drew small amounts of blood. After about 45 minutes, we reached the entrance to another cave. We dropped down into this one and flicked on the flashlights we'd brought. The smell should have revealed what hung above our heads, but I was amazed to see thousands of bats silently swirling through the flashlight beams. I kept my mouth tightly closed in case one of them dropped anything. We spent about 20 minutes wandering through the cave to the other side. Then Tit took us to his bungalow to eat the lunch of fried rice that we'd brought. He kept wanting to take rests so we figured he didn't have much else planned. That was fine with us since we really wanted to go read back at Bamboo, but I think he felt like he hadn't given us much of a tour. So, first he tried to paddle us down the river on an old windsurfer board. Then, he tried to entice us into going tubing. But, we weren't really game because the river wasn't very fast. So we went back to Art's Jungle Lodge, where we had met him and had some Cokes and listened to a remake of The Everly Brothers' "Dream, Dream, Dream" a few times. Then, Kerry and I said thanks and made our escape. On Day Four of the Big Adventure, we settled our bill with Sou's wife, packed up our smelly, sweaty clothing, and left the beautiful park behind. Sou dropped us back on the main road and soon enough a bus came rumbling along. It was a local bus that stopped every half kilometer and had no air conditioning and NO legroom. At one point, the bus driver stopped in the road and a bus going the other way also stopped. The drivers swapped cassette tapes and then moved on. After a few hours we rolled into Surat Thani, the small city that is the capital of the province by the same name. The city is about 10 hours south of Bangkok. It was about 2 p.m. when we hopped off at the bus terminal from which buses to Bangkok depart. The place was deserted, except for the ticket vendors. It turned out the bus wasn't until 7 p.m. and the ticket was about 500 baht. We decided to try buying a ticket instead from the Surat Hotel, which was a vendor for a VIP bus line. (Bus explanation, for the unfamiliar: VIP buses have air-conditioning, lots of leg-room, a bathroom, usually only three seats across the bus, and stop for supper. First Class buses have air-conditioning, and a bathroom, and are slightly less expensive, but have less leg room and have the usual four seats across. Local buses have no air-con, no leg room and stop all the time. The government-run VIP buses are the best because they are direct and really do have only three seats. The drivers also tend to be less maniacal. Lots of private companies also run VIP buses, which we found often had four seats across, crazy drivers, and blaring music at all hours of the night.) It turned out the bus terminal was on the outskirts of town, but then we met a Chinese man who gave us a ride in the back of his pickup truck about 3/4 of the way to town. We got ripped off by a Tuk-Tuk driver for the rest of the trip. We found the Surat Hotel and bought the VIP tickets, which were a good deal cheaper than at the bus terminal. There wasn't too much to do in Surat Thani. After walking the waterfront, the market, the temple and the back streets, we settled down at the local Swenson's and filled up on ice cream. The bus left fairly promptly at 7 p.m. and rolled into the night toward Bangkok. The bathroom reeked and the people in front of us put their seats so far back that they lay in Kerry's lap and locked her knees in. No amount of noisy complaints or kicking would prompt these people to put their seats up. No one else's seats went back quite so far so we concluded they must be broken, but that knowledge did not ease the pain of an incredibly grouchy 10-hour ride from hell. We stopped once in the middle of the night to eat. At 5 a.m., the bus dropped the delirious duo at the bus terminal in Bangkok. We hadn't done much planning ahead so we found ourselves a nice bench and whipped out the Lonely Planet. There were so many hotels listed and we were tired so picking a place to stay was kind of a task. We finally settled on the Mungphol Mansion in Siam Square. We got into a taxi that ripped us off and headed into the heart of the city. We checked into a room for 500 baht. It was pretty clean and had air conditioning and usually it had hot water too. There were no weird bugs crawling on the walls so it seemed rather civilized after the tree house, but it sure lacked the charm and the fresh air. We promptly fell asleep for a few hours. The first day in Bangkok was spent developing film, purchasing maps, and getting visa extensions at Immigration. It was also the time to get used to the heavy pollution that cloaks the city, prompting people who walk on the street or work in open shops to cover their noses and mouths. Traffic cops wear little masks. It's hard to imagine those measures do any good, the air is so thick. After Immigration, we decided to walk back through the city's largest park. It was full of joggers and cats and was quite nice. There is one section that is for weight lifting. There were about two dozen buff men grunting and lifting barbells. After observing this for a bit, we walked out of the park, past the U.S. Embassy and onto Sukhumvit, one of the main drags in Bangkok. We were looking for a bar, called Utopia, that we thought sounded interesting. We knew it would be a hike, but it was fun to wander the streets and look at people and all the things for sale. Everywhere were signs of the economic hard times. The Bangkok Post carried stories of the "Used To Be Rich Market," where Thais, who were wealthy until the currency and the market crashed a few months back, sell off their worldly goods. (Colleen visited and said it wasn't that interesting.) On the street, when it came to bargaining with vendors, they knew exactly how much the dollar was worth to the Thai baht and used that as leverage for higher prices. So, we spent a few hours looking for this bar. It got dark and we wandered into a go-go bar strip that seemed to be full of Thai women and white men. Finally, we asked directions a few times and found the place. It was closed. By then I was starving and exhausted and had a fit of crankiness. We ended up eating at an unappetizing restaurant just because it was convenient. To make ourselves feel better, we went to the movies at a new shopping plaza and saw L.A. Confidential. At the beginning of the movie, everyone in the theater stands up while the Thai Anthem is played and a tribute to the King of Thailand is shown on the screen. There are pictures of the King boating and pictures of the King as a photographer. The king is a very popular fellow here and I rather enjoyed the tribute. The movie was good too. Then it was off to bed at the Mansion. Day two in Bangkok included a visit to Jim Thompson's House, which was just around the corner from Mungphol Mansion. Jim Thompson was an American who moved to Bangkok and became a silk magnate. He built a traditional Thai house, complete with crooked windows and doors, and made a fortune. He was killed in Malaysia, a mystery that was never solved. His house is now a museum. Fairly interesting. From there, we tackled the bus system. This was quite an adventure since our Thai language skills consist of "Good Day," "Thank you" and "Check Please." We managed to find the National Museum, which was closed. Then we hit the National Theater, which was closed. We dared an incredibly scary intersection to get to the Modern Art Museum, which was closed. Hot and tired, we hoofed it a mile or so to a market for a chicken and noodle lunch with Coke. Next on the tour was the Grand Palace, which was open. The Royal Family no longer lives there, but it is used for ceremonies and it houses the famous Emerald Budda, which is really made of jade. It is considered disrespectful to wear shorts inside the palace so along with admission, tourists can borrow sarongs to wear for a few hours. We tied them on over our shorts and poked around the glittering, expansive grounds. The buildings are numerous and massive and have upturned corners and are all decorated with colored glass. Everything is shiny and statues of scary-looking monster-like creatures stand at every corner. Murals along the walls depict the historic battles of Budda. Late in the afternoon, we took the bus to Chinatown and wandered about until we were tired. Then Kerry said she wanted to find a place she'd heard about that is loosely called the Monk's Village. It is really an alley in which a few families that live make the bowls in which monks collect their food every morning. The bowls are hammered from eight pieces of metal and lacquered black. We flagged down the driver of a three-wheeled taxi and told him the name of the alley. He seemed a bit confused, but then took us on our way. At one point, he slowed down and looked at us. I made the mistake of smiling and nodding, I don't know why. Suddenly he veered off the street and down an alley. We stopped in front of a gem dealership and a woman out front welcomed us to a house of good deals. We were in the midst of falling for a common Bangkok scam, which runs something like this: confuse a tourist and take them to a silk or gem house on any pretense and get them to buy anything, no matter how much money they may appear to have. Taxi drivers who deliver the tourists get a commission from the business. Of course, at that time, we were too surprised and ignorant to know this and didn't want to be rude to this nice woman who was beckoning us inside. We followed. First we went to the silver department. "Oh, Big Sale. Good Discount for You, my Friend. Look at this pin (big and ugly) and what about this necklace (icky)? Real Silver, Big Discount." I decided that given that the building was three stories high, this might be a good time to pick up some silk neckties for the family back home in the States. So I asked about silk. "Not Now. Later," was the firm response. The silver show continued. I finally bought a pair of small silver hoop earrings for 100 baht. The saleswoman looked disappointed. Then it was upstairs to gems, but we managed to duck out of that since the idea of us loading up on gems is preposterous. Then on to silk. We bought a couple of ties and escaped to the street. In the next alley over, we found a woman bent over an anvil, hammering away on a monks bowl, while several old timers watched. Bowls of all sizes were balanced on rickety shelves. Some were lacquered and finished while others were just raw metal. We watched for a bit and then Kerry bought a small bowl. We took the bus back to the Mungphol for a breather. That night, we got in touch with Colleen, who was in Bangkok visiting friends. We went to dinner at her friend Veena's house and had delicious Indian food. It was nice to hang out and relax and have some laughs in good company. On Christmas Eve Day, I got my haircut. I really needed it, but the hairdresser man really got me going. I went to Hair Great, in the mall across the road from the Mungphol Mansion. They told me my hair was very dry and that I needed "special treatment." They were right it was dry. I'd been in the sun for weeks. They showed me a small green bottle that I thought they would try to get me to buy afterwards, but which I had no intention of buying since I have never done anything in particular to my hair except wash it and comb. I smiled politely at the green bottle. I'm not exactly blessed with the thick, healthy black hair all the Thais sprout. He said my hair was "very little." Anyway, we did the cut and then his assistant started brushing and all of a sudden the green bottle was there and before I knew it we were doing "special treatment." All smiles, all around, except from me, who was supposed to be back at the Mansion at 11 a.m. I said I didn't have time for this, but to no avail. Big smiles. They mushed in the green stuff, put a plastic bag over my head and stuck me under one of those heat lamp things and gave me a Thai fashion magazine to read. I was never happier! An egg timer was set for 10 minutes. When it went off, it was five minutes before 11. The assistant started blow drying, one hair at a time. Finally, I just got up and said I had to leave. I took a brush and fixed my hair in a jiffy. The hair man smiled. 800 baht. What?? Haircut 300 baht. Special Treatment 500 baht. Pisser. And no more smiles. Feeling stupid, I paid the man and stomped back to the Mansion, vowing that in the future I would cut my own hair. Special treatment!! (Despite that frustrating moment, I would have to say that in general, Thai people are exceptionally nice, friendly and patient, probably much more so than the average American. On the street people are rarely rude and nearly everyone we approached was quite ready to provide directions or a ride or whatever.) In the meantime, Kerry had been off at the Hard Rock Cafe picking up a pin for her little cousin who collects Hard Rock pins. I guess that means she'll be going to the Hard Rock in every country. At 11:30 or so, a car and a driver rolled around for us at the Mansion. Now we were travelling in style! It was sent by Bob Francis, a Boston friend of Kerry's who has been living in Pattaya, a couple hours outside Bangkok, for the last year. He was transferred there for work. Kerry had called Bob and said we'd like to get together. Bob's response was extremely nice. The car took us to the Dusit resort hotel in Pattya and a friend of Bob's who works there, named Prow, showed us to a plush room with a balcony over the sea. We took a swim in the pool, had a workout and met Bob in the late afternoon for a Thai massage at the hotel. In the evening, we went out to dinner with Bob and Prow at a nice Thai restaurant. Then we wandered the streets to see what Pattaya is famous for. Everywhere there were prostitutes, female and male, and go-go bars. White tourist men marched arm in arm with their ladies of the evening. It was like a carnival, a really awful carnival. Bob and Prow said it is a hard place for both of them to live, although I guess you'd get numb to it after a while. It wasn't long before we'd had enough of the scene. We stopped at a small Buddhist temple and Prow showed us how to ask Budda for our lucky numbers and our fortunes. It was sort of hard to remember that it was Christmas Eve. For all three of us, Bob, Kerry and me, it was our first Christmas away from home. We said a quiet Merry Christmas when midnight came and Christmas Eve rolled into Christmas Day. We agreed that maybe it was a good thing it didn't really feel like Christmas because then it would be harder on us all. On Christmas Day, we had a nice brunch at the Dusit and bid our farewells to Bob and Prow, who were both off to their respective jobs. A car shuttled us back to Bangkok. We got in a massive traffic jam, but our driver left the road and drove us through a construction area for a few miles to beat the other cars. On this day, we didn't return to the Mungphol Mansion. Instead, we had a treat lined up for Christmas --- a night at the Marriott, made possible by a discount extended to us by Colleen's kind friend Lan. We checked into the downtown hotel feeling conspicuously grubby in our quacks, t-shirts, and back packs. In the later afternoon, we headed to a Catholic Church for mass. The singing was a bit off key, but I liked it anyway. This was really turning out to be an unusual Christmas for me -- first the prostitutes, then Budda and now mass. Really what I'm used to is dancing around the Christmas tree to the sound track to the Coal Miner's Daughter. I guess that family tradition is a bit non-traditional, but it is the Longsworth family custom and I don't know anything different. We went all out and had a turkey dinner at the Marriott. That was pretty nice, although the stuffing was a touch strange. Mixed into the buffet were numerous Thai dishes as well, which actually offered a nice balance to the international Christmas experience. Later that night came the hard part --- calling home. Everyone at my house got on the various telephones at the same time and it was bit confusing. At one point someone in Massachusetts asked me if I was having fun. My mother responded from the next room, "Yes, I just had breakfast." I was very happy to talk to everyone, but the truth is that we have Christmas down to such a pattern that I knew exactly what they were doing anyway. I did feel like I was missing out all the same. It's the little things that happen every year. Next day, Dec. 26, Kerry and I began our search for bus tickets to Chiang Mai. All the travel agents near the Marriott said that because it was the busy season, their buses that night were full. We finally had to take a taxi out to the northern bus terminal, which is about 20 minutes outside the city center, to buy tickets. At first it seemed we'd have to spend another night in Bangkok as ticket vendors passed us off to the next window time and time again. There seemed to be no empty seats that night. So we conferred and decided to delay going to Chiang Mai. But when I went back and bought the tickets, two seats for that night had miraculously been produced. I still haven't figured out why or how or exactly what it takes sometimes to get a ticket out of a ticket vendor. Some of them are completely unhelpful and seemingly won't sell a ticket if they don't feel like it. Very bizarre. But, there we were, tickets in hand. We had several hours to kill before the bus so we went back to the Marriott and then poked around the neighborhood a bit. In the early evening, we decided to go see The Jackal with Bruce Willis and Richard Gere at the the theater across from the hotel. We knew we'd be cutting it close with the 9 p.m. bus departure, but we decided that if the movie got out by 8 p.m. we would have time to just run across and get our backpacks and hop in a taxi to the bus station. The movie started late and then there were previews and then the salute to the King. It was a pretty action-packed flicked and when 8 p.m. came and we were minutes from the end we just couldn't leave. We ran out of the theater at about 5 minutes after 8 o'clock and got our stuff from the Marriott. We stood on the curb to flag down a taxi. Usually, taxis swarmed us. But tonight, the streets were very strangely quiet. "No," said Kerry, who came to a realization before I did. But it was true. The Princess was coming. We'd had this experience in Phuket once while waiting for a bus. When a member of the Royal Family drives through, police and guards make all the traffic pull over and wait on the side of the road. Pedestrians stand respectfully on the side and wait. We had no choice but to wait until the limousines passed by bearing the invisible Princess to her destination. Then the taxis began to flow, but they were all full. Time was marching on toward the hour of our bus departure. A very nice Thai man who had stood to watch the princess pass began to help us. He stopped empty taxis, but they all just drove away. He said there was a traffic jam at the bus terminal and no taxis wanted to go there. We tried about five more times. It was 8:30. Finally, the man said he was waiting for a friend who wouldn't be there until 10 p.m. and he didn't have much else to do so he would take us. His car was right nearby. He drove a Toyota, but said he worked for Rolls Royce in Bangkok. Given the economic condition of Thailand, I'm sure business hadn't been very good lately. Probably not too many Thais are buying Rolls Royces. But he was very cheerful and took a back route to avoid the traffic jam and got us to the bus station. He even parked and rushed us through the incredible crowd and figured out which bus was ours among the several hundred waiting to depart. We thanked him profusely and he waved us off. We were the last ones to board the bus. The overnight trip to Chiang Mai was uneventful. The bus was roomy since it only had three seats across. We arrived in the chilly northern city at about 6 a.m. Again, we searched the Lonely Planet and settled on Gap's Guest House. Since we'd had such a struggle getting a bus ticket I called the guesthouse from the bus station and the proprietor said she had a room. We hopped in a Tuk Tuk and went straight there. Good thing too. We got the last room and over the next two hours several pairs of travelers were turned away. Gap's was a garden and kitchen surrounded by little wooden houses. The furnishings looked antique. The cost, including breakfast, was 390 baht a night --- about $7. It was quite a good place and would have been perfect in my mind, except for the fact that the room was inexplicably full of mosquitoes. I killed dozens every night before feeling safe to sleep. And actually, we didn't get bitten all that much. First day in Chiang Mai, we set out immediately, having slept reasonably well on the bus. We walked all through the old city, checking out the temples, the walls and the moats. Everyone had told us that Chiang Mai was too touristy and to skip it. There were tourists and a lot of places that catered to tourists, but the place still seemed to have a life of its own. We enjoyed it and decided that the reason some places are touristy is that they are quite nice. We ate at some good restaurants, in particular a whole foods restaurant at which we had Indian food. It was in Chiang Mai that I started my photo essay of Thai dogs. The dogs are masters of the streets and they adorn the temples. They live independent street lives and really seem not to bother people. Often they are mangy to the point of being bald, but they have great character in the face and I tried to capture that. Kerry was not too pleased by this crusade, but she was tolerant. I really liked the massive night market as well that sprung up each evening after dark in the center of the city. We spent a couple of nights there, searching for bargains in silk and other stuff. We also went out one night for too much beer to a bar called the River's Edge, which seemed to cater to foreigners and young Thais. The local talent on stage proved to actually have pretty decent talent. We were entertained by the band and a dancing drunk until quite late. Then it was a long walk back to Gap's. Another day in Chiang Mai was spent by going up to a very crowded temple on a mountain outside town. From there we hiked to a waterfall. The latter part of the excursion was quite nice, but the first was just too packed. I don't even remember the name of the place. I think I blocked it out. Next day, we were off on a very bumpy bus ride to Chiang Rai, a smaller city about three hours to the north of Chiang Mai. Chiang Rai Province is one of the northernmost provinces in Thailand. It is known for its rugged beauty. Thais as well as Hilltribe people of various origins live there. It is largely agricultural. According to newspaper stories, Opium and marijuana trafficking and illegal logging are big problems in the region. Thais also say the pineapple from Chiang Rai is better and sweeter than the pineapple in the rest of Thailand. It tasted pretty good, true, but it all seems to taste good to me. We got lodging at the Mae Hong Son Guest House on the edge of town. The staff was very friendly and asked if we were interested in going on a trek. This is a popular activity among tourists. Treks can vary from riding on an elephant and being driven to a gem shop to sweating it out with a backpack for a few days in the jungle. We were, in fact interested in trekking, but it can all be a bit confusing since many guesthouses offer treks and other guides are available through tour agencies. And then there are all kinds of warnings about not getting ripped off and robbed and wandering into a bad situation or getting a lousy guide who doesn't speak the many languages needed to navigate the Hilltribes and does drugs all the time. We agreed to meet with the guide from the guesthouse at 7 p.m. and see what he was all about. In the meantime we did our own research. I got a list of registered guides from the local tourist office and we walked over to the Hilltribe museum. A group that runs out of the museum offered treks and they also do birth control and food programs. It looked like a good outfit, but the price was quite high and the treks were very prescribed and all included elephant rides, which we didn't care for. We were also unread off by the fact that at the end of the trek the guide gives a tour of the various projects the group runs. We debated for a while and then it turned out they couldn't do a three-day trek leaving for the next day anyway. That solved that issue for the indecisive duo. At the museum I saw a couple who I had noticed checked into the guesthouse right after we did. They wanted to go trekking as well, they said, and also planned to meet the guesthouse's guide that night. Kerry and I poked around Chiang Rai the rest of the afternoon, stopping in a various places that offered trekking to see what they had to offer. One guy we talked to, Ben, said the guide from our guesthouse was "no good" and there were many complaints about him. Ben's tour was pricey and he would go for only one night since he didn't want to work on New Year's Eve. In fact he said nobody would trek on New Year's Eve. Yeah, okay Ben. That night, we met Nou, who would be our guide. Jon and Ann, the Swedish couple we met at the museum, also agreed to go on the trek. Nou said we would leave the next morning at about 10 a.m., take a longtail boat up the shallow Kok River to a village where people take elephant rides. We would have lunch and if we wanted to, ride an elephant for a bit. Then we'd go further up the river by boat to a hot spring. From there we would walk a few hours (distance in the hills is measured in time it takes to walk, not miles or kilometers) to the village where we would spend the first night. The second day we'd walk about six hours, stop at a waterfall, and spend the night at another village. Third day, we would walk a couple hours, have lunch and a truck would pick us up to go back to Chiang Rai. On the way back, we would stop at the Queen Mother's Project. (We couldn't figure out what this was, but Nou assured us it was very special to the Thai people.) After the description, the four of us looked at one another and said okay, we'd go. At 1,600 baht each, it was about half the cost of the other treks. The next day ran pretty true to plan. We zipped up-river in the longtail, a long, shallow-bottomed wooden boat with an outboard that looks like an egg beater. The motor is extended far behind the boat and the fulcrum is positioned so the pilot can easily raise and lower the motor while moving through shallow water. We went for about an hour, winding up the small river among the hills. It was so nice to be in the country again. The north is much chillier than than the sweaty south and I was shivering by the time we pulled up to the muddy river landing of the Elephant Village, as Nou called it. A small restaurant was on the shore and a dirt street where shops sold handicrafts to tourists ran toward the hills. Next to a high platform near the water, elephants patiently waited to be ridden. A few other tourists were there, as this town is an easy day trip from Chiang Rai. It turned out that this was Nou's hometown. The people who live there, and Nou, are of the Karon hilltribe, one of the approximate dozen peoples that populate the region. Nou said that when he was small, missionaries first came and visited the village. They were the first white people there and it was from them that he began to learn English. Now, many tourists visit the village every day, he told us. Jon and Ann decided to go on an elephant ride. The kid steering the elephant was about eight years old. Kerry and I waited on a bench. The elephants were sweet looking animals with these huge delicate feet. They seemed to revel in being allowed into the river. I felt sorry for them. We ate lunch of fried rice at the little restaurant. Nou, who looked out of place because he constantly wore a green beret and U.S. Army fatigues that bore the name Beardsley on them, disappeared for a bit and then joined some other Thais in front of a nearby television. They were in hysterics over a comedy show in which, from what we could gather, some Thais were supposed to be doing authentic Thai dancing and providing authentic Thai food to some farangs (that's what they call us foreigners) and the whole episode went badly and the foreigners looked like complete idiots in doofy sarongs. Since our food hadn't come and everybody else, including the cook and Nou, were mesmerized by the show, we watched too. But it was a bit surreal, watching a comedy of ourselves. We headed up the river again and buzzed up to the hot spring, which turned out to be way too hot for swimming. That sucker was a-boiling! We started walking then. Once away from the water and on a dusty jeep road, it was hot, very hot. Nou had said we really only needed one water bottle each, but that turned out not to be enough. All four of us were quite hot, very sweaty, and thirsty soon under the weight of our packs. After a bit, we veered off the jeep track and onto a foot path that soon came out in a village. Nou told us to rest and disappeared for some time. We wiped our sweat off and watched some kids play in the dirt. I looked at one little girl who was sucking on an old tea bag and she promptly burst into tears. Oh dear, scaring the children is not good for cross-cultural relations. Nou reappeared after about half an hour followed by a young man in flip flops who carried Nou's back pack for the rest of the trek. They had prepared a plate of wild boar for tasting, which turned out to be quite good. We walked high up into the hills, through rice paddies, and bamboo forests. Finally, our young guide, who spoke no English or Swedish, veered off the track and we dropped down a steep hill to a clearing where a village of three bamboo houses on stilts stood. Nou indicated the house in which we were to sleep and we took off our shoes and entered. It was one big room with a stone fire place near the door. Villagers rolled out sleeping mats and piled up blankets for us. We washed in a stream and the sun quickly set. It got quite chilly and we huddled around the fire despite the smoke. Nou cooked us a bland supper of rice and chicken and the villagers all sat down to watch us eat. That was a bit strange, but Nou told us later they were just curious about what and how we ate. After food, the Thai rice whiskey came out. It was awful. Nou drank a lot. Jon drank some. And I think Kerry and Ann had a few sips. I tried hard, but could barely get a drop down because it tasted so terrible. Then Nou brought out the bitternut chew. He folded the small nut and a red paste in a banana leaf and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. Jon, Ann and I all wanted to try so he obliged and gave us some. It tasted okay and when we spit in the fire it was bright red. We stayed up late talking about Thailand, Sweden and America. Nou showed us his tattoos. The young men in the village seemed to admire Nou greatly. One of them gave Nou a Thai massage after dinner, but Nou seemed frustrated because the kid couldn't crack his back. That night it was cold. We each got two blankets and I had brought an extra. Kerry had her sleeping bag. Jon and Ann said they didn't think they'd be cold, but in the morning said they didn't sleep very well because of the chill. Once the sun was over the mountain, the light leaked through the cracks in the bamboo house. Jon, Ann, Kerry and I were up a bit before 8 a.m. We waited around until Nou showed his head an hour later. He cooked us some eggs and we were off, up a very steep hillside. We stopped to rest there for a minute in a poppy and marijuana field. All morning we walked up and down and up and down through the bamboo forests. It was lovely, but tiring. Mid-day we arrived at a large waterfall and went for a quick dunk. Nou said it was too cold for him and he sat on a rock. Lunch was Raman Noodles in another village and then we walked on until late afternoon. When we arrived at our night stop for the second night, we were all pretty pooped. It had been a long day and the end was spent scrambling down a stream in fairly thick jungle. The sight of the bamboo houses and cows and people was quite welcome. It was New Year's Eve and while obviously we weren't in for a wild party, Jon, Ann, Kerry and I got along quite well and we were happy enough spending it together. Nou had his rice whiskey, which he seemed to drink at every meal, and that made him happy. The accommodations were similar to the first night. We were at a lower elevation though and had more blankets. The night was much warmer. We stayed out late on a little deck off the house, looking at the stars and drinking (or choking down) the whiskey and a few warm Singha beers that had wandered into the village. At our lunch stop we had bought some chocolate covered biscuits and when we brought these out, in addition to some emergency candy Jon and Ann had, the villagers were pretty happy. In exchange, they brought out the most treasured part of a chicken they were cooking nearby: the heart. They put it in front of us next to the candy bowl and the beers and urged us to help ourselves. Jon, who was quite game for anything, seemed to think it was okay. I already had a piece in my hand before I knew what it was and had to make the motions of eating and enjoying. I actually didn't swallow too much. Kerry and Ann declined. I felt badly because obviously they had shared the wealth, but I don't go in much for chicken heart. Never have. A bit more Thai whiskey and Nou showed his tattoos again and everyone forgot. He also told us about the cows he owns and that he keeps in the village. He said that the man sitting next to him (who later gave him a Thai massage) had built a fence for Nou's cows. Nou had paid him in heroin rather than cash. After the trek I read a long article about the problems of drug addiction in the Hilltribes. We didn't actually make it to midnight for New Year's. We all fell asleep half an hour before 1998. But in the morning, the New Year was sunny and clear and lovely and I wandered into a cow pasture in northern Thailand in my socks that smelled like wood smoke to brush my teeth before eating fried eggs cooked over a fire. Looks like it will be a good year. That last day, Nou seemed a bit slow (like a bit too much Thai whiskey) and he wanted to walk only for an hour to meet the truck, but we talked him into taking us on a longer route. We left the village at about 10 a.m., after all the little kids tried very hard to get us to buy woven goods. We had a beautiful walk down through the jungle and down a stream bed. At one point we climbed across the top of a rather scary waterfall. A young man from the village in which we had spent the night came with us, wearing flip flops the whole way, and carried Nou's pack. He also carried a slingshot and fired at birds, but didn't hit anything. We got into farmland and crossed through people's fields and yards with the young villager picking his way through a maze of trails. It was a terrific morning I thought and felt this appreciation for every mangy dog and chicken I saw. We finally reached civilization and Nou brought us to a restaurant for fried rice. The restaurant owner loaded us into his truck and drove us off toward Chiang Rai. We did stop at the Queen Mother's Project, which was a building and grounds at which special ceremonies are held. Hilltribe people who become students at the university in Chiang Rai can also live there, Nou said. It wasn't until weeks later, back in Phuket, that I learned from someone else who had been there that it is the headquarters for a massive reforestation project lead by the King's mother. Back to Mae Hong Son Guest House, where we thanked Nou for the trek. We showered and slept. Next day, we ventured with Jon and Ann by bus up to Mae Sai, the northernmost point in Thailand. Mae Sai is a dusty border town with a lookout point from which we gazed at Burma. We had some lunch and wandered the streets for a few hours before heading back. On the return, we got on the slowest bus in the world and it took two hours (instead of an hour and twenty minutes there). Kerry and I raced back to the guesthouse, got our stuff and hurried back to the bus station on foot (unable to find a Tuk Tuk when we need one of course!) to board the overnight bus to Bangkok. We had VIP tickets, but this really was the ride from hell. We were on the bottom layer of a double-decker bus. The seats were on the same level as the luggage compartment so we felt as though we were riding two inches above the ground. A speaker over our heads served the entire cabin so the scratchy music they played for the first hour deafened us. Then came the B movie dubbed in Thai about a killer hog in Australia. Kerry actually seemed to enjoy it. Then quiet. But not for long. Half an hour before the middle-of-the-night pit stop, the music came back on. We asked the bus assistant to turn it down and she gave us a big smile, but no relief. Eeeek. There wasn't enough leg room and the seats in front of us smushed us and it was cold. Worst of all, the bus driver was a total nut. I watched out the window in terror as we passed every vehicle in the road as if his ego depended on it. Of course the road was under construction and Kerry swore she felt the bus shimmying sideways on the dirt sections. I have never been so scared in a vehicle in my life. I was almost glad they had deadened my senses with the music. By the time we rolled into Bangkok's northern bus terminal at 6 a.m., music jamming, I had labeled Kerry the grouchiest person on the bus and I was not too far behind. We jumped in a taxi (literally, since the guy only slowed down in the thick bus station traffic) and headed for the Mungphol Mansion for some much needed sleep. On the way, the taxi blew through red lights and took a bump so hard I hit my head on the ceiling. Thanks, I was falling asleep. Our day in Bangkok wasn't too action filled since we were pretty wiped out. We slept and went out to the southern bus terminal by taxi to get tickets to Phuket for the following night. (Yes, we're on a roll here. We had agreed with Aaron and Colleen to be back on the boat by Jan. 5 so get some work done before heading off to the Maldives.) At the bus terminal, a nice ticket agent assured us the next window over was booking VIP to Phuket. When we got there, a sour woman said we should have bought them at the first window. We said, sorry, we were told to come here. The two agents glared at eachother and the sour woman turned to us and said "All full." We knew she was lying, but could do nothing about it. We settled for tickets on the First Class bus the next night and saved ourselves 150 baht. We took a bus back into the city and got off near the zoo. We walked along a moat and looked at the snapping turtles. We decided to head over to Khao San Road, which is where most backpackers stay when they visit Bangkok, but which was not where we had opted to stay. When we got there I was really glad. The street was packed with foreigners who appeared to be in need of showers. The shops were filled with junky souvenirs and fake student identification cards for travelers to get discounts. Signs hanging from buildings crowded the air with advertisements for cheap guest houses, beer and pizza. The place seemed grimy and as if it could have been anyplace. We made our visit quick and headed back to the Mansion. That night, we decided we hadn't really seen Bangkok at night so we read up on some places to go and headed out on the town. We decided first to eat Indian food and found a great little restaurant. Then we decided to try Utopia again. We got there after a bus ride and a long walk to find that it had closed December 31. So we walked again for quite a ways to get to a new microbrewery. The beer was okay, the band was mediocre and the atmosphere was lame. We left and were debating trying another spot when I got tired and it was after midnight so we returned to the Mansion. I can't say that night life in Bangkok was the highlight of the trip although judging by the range of places to go out, it is quite good when you are in the mood. Next day we slept really late and headed to the famous weekend market by bus. The place is endlessly huge, hot and crowded. Everything under the sun is sold there, from Army pants to puppies to delicate Thai china. It was quite a place and absolutely mobbed. We lasted about three hours and bought little. Kerry said she was glad we had gone to other markets up north before hitting the weekend market because we probably would have bought a lot. True True. In the late afternoon, we collected our bags and bid the Mungphol Mansion farewell. For the first time, we left plenty of time to get to the bus station. We found a taxi without much problem and there was little traffic. We were an hour-and-a-half early for the bus. Ho Hum. We decided to make one last attempt to get on VIP. When I inquired at the window the sales person said sorry, they only had one seat left. That meant the bus hadn't been sold out the day before. That lying lady! Well, it turned out our bus trip was fine. It was half full so we each got two seats. The driver drove admirably and when dawn broke we were rolling onto Phuket Island. From the bus station, Kerry and I walked through Phuket Town and caught a local bus to the Boat Lagoon. Redwings was waiting and it felt nice to be home. We arrived feeling well traveled, tired, hungry, happy and in desperate need of laundry service and a shower. By noon, we were sanding the toe rail in preparation for varnish. Back to Previous Log / Forward to Next Log Copyright ©1999 All Rights Reserved by Laura Longsworth and Aaron Henderson |
