North Thailand, Festival Land (Pt 2)

Festival Land Part Two: Pai 

View over Pai Canyon

I struggled to keep my eyes open as the van climbed out of Chiang Mai into descending mist from the mountain. Leaving terracotta bricks of the old town, past teak houses and in to forest I struggled until the rammed van succumbed to the driver’s bet with himself to find out how quickly he could execute a circus trick I like to call ‘get passenger posteriors to simultaneously fly in a moving van’. He achieved this most effectively when my seat fell forward a foot on its’ runners and I was within kissing distance of the Thai man’s neck in front of me.

After the switchbacks in death van I arrived slightly nauseous, to Pai; town of hippies, waterfalls and mountain surroundings. I still felt like I was at a festival, with jewellery stalls and street food vendors setting up for the evening, while the temperature dropped from a blistering 35 degrees to a forgiving 25-28.

At Spicy Pai

North Thai Cuisine

I found my bed for the next two days at famous hippy commune Spicy Pai Backpackers. The coming wet season's dramatic clouds prevented clear sunsets, and yet the mists, rolling formations and huge streaks of fork lightning hitting trees only a few kilometres away, brought about an incredible electric atmosphere that wouldn't have been amiss in 'The Never Ending Story'.

An all you can eat buffet was put on for guests and I was allowed in to the culinary idiosyncrasies of north Thailand. BBQ Catfish and soups, pulled pork, sticky rice, roast chicken and a chilli paste that would have worked in Mexican food. Something I wouldn’t have been able to get at a Farang-geared restaurant.

The wind forecast a storm through the big tree-house of Spicy Pai Backpackers, or 'rooftop' as the Germanic Father figure and impossibly tall Stefan called it, I found myself reaching for my hoody while others continued to sweat. During my time in Bali I found myself shivering on my bike, Gloria, some nights during the drive home at 3am with only a thin jumper. It's 7pm. I think I may have acclimatised to Asia.

Storm from Spicy's 'rooftop'

With my layers and leggy denim shorts I felt all I was missing was a pair of Welly-boots and I could have been at Glastonbury.

As my visa grew closer to expiration, 12 hours in fact, I finally managed to find the Khao Soi Jon was raving about back in Chiang Mai. None of us had known what it was so had naturally been unable to track down the elusive Northern delight. It is in fact a coconut-based noodle and chicken broth with a spicy, salty taste topped with fried crispy noodles.

By 8am the next morning I sat on top of my back pack in the open air, whizzing towards the border crossing of Chiang Khong to begin a two day journey down the Mekong to Luang Prabang. The road slipped away from the moving truck, just like my now illegal presence in Siam, land of smiles, lemongrass and dengue.

North Thailand- Festival Land (Pt.1)

Part One A weekend in Chiang Mai

Monks walking for Alms in front of Tai Chi at Three Kings Memorial, Chiang Mai

Chiang Mai has no sky-scrapers. In fact the biggest structures are the Wats (temples). The old town is still surrounded by a moat and a fully functioning protective terracotta brick city wall complete with 'gates'. Remnants of an outer wall are dotted about the river where fountains intermittently spray up mist and trees line the water and it is easy to imagine what this place may have looked like back when the wall was complete.

After a whole day's travel with minivan, ferry, minivan again, drop off at BKK, shuttle bus tour around the airport (I enjoy the scenic route) shuttle bus to the correct airport, flight and finally a taxi, I made it to Chiang Mai to meet the glorious gorgeous couple, Katia and Jon for our fourth liaison in three years, across the world. And all in time to see children kick the crap out of each other at Muay Thai. 

Muay Thai fighters in traditional dress

Kickboxing

From our VIP seats, yes VIP, we saw many a wiry punch and hefty ankle slap to the thigh. To begin, two opponents took to the ring performing a choreographed sequence in the traditional Muay Thai dress of the days of yore and set to the sound of drums and an Asian clarinet. Today the fighters wear shorts far more similar to the shiny gold encrusted kind you get in western boxing, but rolled up to make the kicks more effective. 

"I will not be taking on that ten year old", I leaned to both Jon and Katia. From Katia came a horrified nod, a big grin from Jon. 

Animals!

No I wasn't referring to Backpackers. Chiang Mai Zoo is a hillside town for African, Asian and Australian animals. I was delighted at how well looked after they seem, despite some small enclosures for reptiles and  one maddened-looking Asian black bear so clearly bored of his enclosure. And compared to Tiger Kingdom, where big cats are drugged for a tourist's opportunity at getting close to a top predator for a fucked up cuddle. The pandas being the star attraction were in their own area to draw in more money . As you can guess, the breeding programme wasn't going well and neither panda, showed a hint of interest in anything but sleeping in their bamboo decorated enclosures. Still it was a treat for me to see one in (huge) flesh and I was impressed at the modernity of how to keep such large and dangerous animals in humane but safe areas by using the well known trench system instead of caging up in serious amounts of chicken wire (ahem, London zoo).

child busker at the night markets

At night markets we ate as much stick food, spicy soups, fat noodles and fruit shakes as our plastic bag tasseled arms could carry, to the point of becoming a fat noodle. They are clearly a popular attraction for the amount of Fereng and Chinese tourists amiably dawdling up the street and we easily lost each other on many occasions. But no worries, "what do you do when you lose each other?" Katia motherly questioned Jon and I. "You snorkel!" She announced in her Queensland tongue, smiling at our naïveté.

I felt as though I was at a festival what with the threat of rain, street performers, sparkling lights and the mysterious stalls; and food hawkers with their questionable delights and the relaxed yet packed environment of ease at which people drink in the street. At the Ratchadamnoen road Sunday market it was much the same, only they played the national anthem and EVERYONE stood still and I noticed the air was clear from the lack of cigarette smoking allowed here.

On our night out at Roots Rock Reggae, we were utterly joyous to discover a Thai Ska band, their trumpets and trombones calling back memories of nights in Brixton and at Glastonbury watching The Specials. I came to the conclusion that you could spend a whole year in Festival Land (Chiang Mai) and still not absorb everything on offer. Jon said it reminded him of Melbourne, for myself it felt more like Perth due to it's situation on a river, the very relaxed atmosphere and the arty scene and hidden gems every where you go. It was like when someone hands you a cake box as a surprise and you peer in the white cardboard to find a carefully sculpted delicious treat waiting for you.

Departing Koh Chang

Journey to Chiang Mai

Broken boats, Long beach

"I ordered you a healthy baguette to take away!" Do calls to me from the reception desk at Oasis. Her cheery dimples, coupled with her blonde curls give the impression of a very tall Dutch doll.  

The mini van is coming in fifteen minutes and I have just got out of the bungalow and still to find money to pay my bill. The van comes in ten and I clopp heavily down the hill with my giant breakfast sandwich to meet the wheels coming to take me away.

Rewind to six days before.

"I think you're going to enjoy it more than you realise" I say to Dad as the Songthaeuw takes us to Blue Lagoon cookery school.

"Hmmm, cooking is all work for me..."

"Yeah but you get to eat it today!"

Hawker, Khlong Prao

This is how I have stayed on Koh Chang for three weeks. One week getting to know expats, ten days concentrated dose of estranged parent and five more for my birthday party/hangover languor. Seriously, this place is magnetic and it's not just the parties. For those of you who don't know about Elephant Island, it's the second biggest in Thailand, has served as a station in wars during the twentieth century and has only become a traveller outpost in the last twenty years.

Like the monkeys that cling to it's jungle fringed hills, backpackers come from all over and do. not. leave! I nearly became one of them, and could have quite easily if certain factors of reality weren't pulling me back from a self inflicted reverential malaise. Read: too many hangovers to be bothered to book a ticket and deal with twelve hours of travel. Sound familiar?

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 As I stand on the ferry, watching the 'Welcome to Koh Chang' sign grow smaller while I rip in to the enormous ham, egg and cheese focaccia, complete with Dutch mustard mayo; I recall some factors other than drink that pull you back to this island. The sense of community among long-termers paired with some fantastically energetic Thais working in the bars night after night. The people organising beach clean ups who truly care about the island. Then the elephants that want your help or the divers that show you how to dive without disturbance, the tattoo you WILL get because let's face it, you're on Koh Chang, or the myriad of Western, Asian and Thai restaurants to keep you excited. And not forgetting beach sunsets where clouds

turn a blue sky to a pink purple and orange fluffed up sheen.

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Sunset, Lonely Beach

We speed away from the port in the packed van, a decent portion of me wants to go back to the place so easy to belong to. I hope I make the flight, but I know someone back on Koh Chang who hopes I don't and come back, which is nice. 

My grumpiness over leaving is compounded by a desire to avoid the usual small talk and not throw the remains of baguette at the maniacal driver. Ahem, "My name is Lucy, I come from England, I'm 28  and here is a list of all the countries I've been to. Go!" How many best friends are you really going to make on a mini van to Bangkok? And this is strange for me to say because of how many times I've had the conversation about being friendly to people. 

"You never know the opportunity you will miss".

children on swings, Koh Chang East

The Blind date format of making friends gets tiring really quickly. Information exchange on the road is inevitable: names, ages and passport stamps, but does it have to happen immediately? Whatever happened to natural conversation?

I digress. 

 With every swerve in to a blind corner whilst overtaking a truck, my  enormous breakfast sits a little less pretty. I officially hate the driver. On the other hand, Northern Thailand finally awaits and I know I'm going to kick myself for leaving it so late. Don't get quagmired in Koh Chang, everybody does.

 I finally make it to the plane, after being dropped at the wrong airport, being shown the sights of Suvarnabhumi airport (by the way it’s actually pronounced 'Serwanaphoon' to keep you on your toes Ferang!) on the free shuttle bus and a cross city tour of Bangkok to make it to Dong Muang with an hour to spare. She pushes back to the runway so I may trade new friends for old ones at my next destination and my thirst for flights is satiated once more as the sun sets a powder blue in to whipped cream clouds. I am genuinely sad to go, but I must, for dear reader, I have crap to do. A blog to write and start making money off, a course to finish, some waterfalls to conquer and bucket lists to tick off. And a liver to de-bloat.

Pier, Long Beach, Koh Chang

Thailand: crazy for you

Welcome back Fereng

Arriving in Bangkok, intense humidity and 40 degree heat pounded more weight on to the 20kilos hanging off my back. Crazy Bule, now Fereng who tried to walk up Sukhumvit with all I own, got lost far up from my hostel in Thong Long on a street with, as promised by Lawrence Osborne's book "Bangkok Days", many seedy massage parlours, while I ambled around food hawkers. Welcome back to magnetic Thailand. My stomach flipped excitedly. 

Shamefully, I found 7/11 for a ham and 

cheese toastie. White sugary bread encases a melted plastic cheese and shop floor ham filling. Distinctly un-Thai, but unable to be found anywhere else I have been, and for me it holds many happy memories. Of being an irresponsible drunk-packer, meeting new people and laughing away hangovers with these boiling hot pockets of anti-nutrition. 

Changing cultures

I forgot how friendly Indonesians are. Swaths of Indonesians move there for work from more remote islands, and despite the huge influx of foreigners to Bali, there is still bafflement with the outside world. Indonesia is still quite culturally cut off from the rest of the world, which helps preserve custom, and I think friendliness. Although Indonesians seem bored of overcrowding from tourism, their affability is catching and I began from Ngurah Rai airport, smiling and saying hello to as many as possible.

Thailand, with its' multitude of land borders and attraction as a major tourist destination, means more people pass through (making it harder to get off the beaten track). But this also makes Thailand an accepting place for cultural difference. I recognise most Thais are also welcoming, friendly and warm with a wicked sense of humour. I meander with a lost look on my face and a map and I am offered help. I ask a questions and jokes come back. 

Show respect for the ruling culture, and be welcomed tenfold.

You do, in places, get a small sense of 'God, not another one!' I'm determined not to be another one.  I would like to get off that ‘beaten track’. I want to learn the language and alphabet more than anywhere. I want to learn the correct way to Wai and good Thai manners. I am as ever, fascinated by this golden country, its' countless temples, idyllic islands and enthralling history. 

Island Review

So I write this from Koh Chang, hoping to change my ways ever so slightly and to make the conversion from backpacker to 'Thailand Enthusiast'. Toasties have not passed my lips for a week and I am trying more street food, falling more in love with the culture one mouthful at a time. In Bangkok I sampled more of the never-ending plethora of sites and sins on offer, had a fling with mango sticky rice and stayed just long enough to make friends with other English teachers. Read: long-termers.

I made my way to this blessed island and discovered mountains of various personalities. The quiet, heady, dark and exciting. Marvellous, crazy, unexpected and mild- much like the foods on my list, and the clean Buddhist life at odds with corrupt squalor. Thailand: a moving vestibule of yin and yang. 

To come: Getting lost in Koh Chang

Lonely Beach, Koh Chang