Thailand got a lot more fun as we headed northwards. A slidey-seated bus and midnight Seven-Eleven breaks brought us our best friends for the next couple of weeks: Stephan, a bright-eyed Canadian bear; Sammy, an Australian trance-pixie; Julie, a sleepy Norwegian puppy and Anna, a Nottingham lass whose accent reminded me of home-home. We pulled up in Chiang Mai, bleary-eyed at 7am, at a guesthouse which just happened to be really cheap with nice rooms and a ruddy swimming pool. Thailand is so easy!
Chiang Mai is delightful - a nice small city, all clean and friendly and easy to walk around, with an “old city” marked by a moat, dotted with spangly temples, monasteries and markets. The city feels a bit European in places, with canals, a big river and tons of little coffee shops and cocktail bars. The ever-present sleazy sex-tourist bars, 40 degree heat and stray dogs remind you that this is Thailand.
We spent a couple of days exploring the wonderful markets and temples, eating deliciously cheap food and bonding over beers in bars that smelt of dog poo and wee or on the scruffy rooftop of our guesthouse.
We decided to explore the north by scooter, chugging 100-odd miles over the hills to Pai. The trip was really fun and scenic, only marred by Dave falling off and smashing up his scooter when he swerved to avoid a cow. But Pai was beautiful – a twinkly little hippie town tucked into the hills by a lazy river. We stayed in the aptly-titled Golden Huts, right by the river, with a lovely green garden full of flowers and hammocks. We could have stayed for weeks, but alas we had to return the scooters so bezzed it back to Chiang Mai.
Chiang Mai was starting to feel like home, and it was too easy to loll by the pool in the stifling 42 degree heat. So for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to book a day’s downhill mountain biking. We chose a trail for “beginners", but it was a complete nightmare. Scary and uncomfortable, I spent the whole route gripping the brakes in terror, skidding around, bumping into rocks and whimpering. Joe had the time of his life though, so it was worth it…and the scenery was pretty nice. We celebrated surviving with lots of red wine back in the old city.
Dave, Joe and me took a sweaty bus to Chiang Dao, a small jungly town a couple of hours from Chiang Mai which seems to be run by women. Taxi drivers, guest house owners, tour guides...they're all ladies. We stayed there for a night, visiting some damp and tangly caves full of bats and bat poo, then relaxing in the garden of our guest house with only foot-long geckoes for company. We were tucked up in our bungalows by 9pm.
Our friends had slowly gone their separate ways, and Dave was soon flying home. There was only one thing for it – we went to a fish spa. We sat with our legs dangling in tanks of water while shoals of small fishes nibbled the dead skin off our feet. It ticked like hell! Then we undid all the good work with a last night out in Changers, starting with football and margaritas, ending in a trashy, vomit-fragranced club called Spicy with a bottle of Sangsom, surrounded by trendy Thais, drunk sex tourists and dazed travelers humping each other to terrible music.
It’s time to go. I’m ready for a new country and excited about Laos.
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