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.