Before you all start chastising me for my blatantly, disrespectful, subject title, I'm just relaying, albeit phonetically, what I heard last week in a bar here in northern Thailand. Was wandering about looking for a beer and heard the unmistakable sound of this Tony Orlando & Dawn classic drifting down the narrow streets from a corner, karaoke bar. Superb! And no, it isn't this week's song title!
And so, Bangkok -
Charming gateway to Southeast Asia through the ancient land of Siam?
Shopping paradise with towering four, five and even six star hotels?
Backpackers crossroads for the mutual exchange of stories, advice, bodily fluids and maps to mysterious islands?
Sprawling urban metropolis with traffic hell and rats in the alleyways?
Bangkok is all of these things which is why, when I spoke to people who had been here, half of them loved it and half of them hated it? Me, I'm glad I saw it but I'm equally glad to have moved on after four nights. I thought Hong Kong was hot, humid and non-stop busy. This place is ten times as big, ten times as busy and it feels ten times as hot. It continually pulsates with the noise of impatient drivers - every third car is a cab - and loud, bass driven music in any and every type of bar you can imagine... and some you can't!
I've done a couple of touristy things (the Grand Palace, a ride in a tuk-tuk, visit to a snake farm) and a couple of shopping things but the single best thing for me about Bangkok, hands down, no question, is the food! Flat noodles, thin noodles, sticky rice, seafood, poultry, soups, all stir fried or boiled or steamed to perfection with a touch more spice and colour than I saw or tasted in Hong Kong, although fried ducks blood was a first for me! There're 58,000 restaurants here and I'm only sorry that I couldn't have visited more.I'm not ashamed to say that I was more than a little apprehensive about leaving the relative familiarity of the ex-British colony that is Hong Kong before coming here. I'm thankful therefore, that I followed the advice given on Page 5 of my 'Rough Guide - First Time Around The World For 30 Something Dummies' which says,
"Don't be afraid to look up that childhood pen pal in Ghana or your third cousin once removed in Hungary..."
I manage to get accommodation with - now concentrate here - my sister's, husband's, cousin's, work colleague and I am eternally grateful to Al, Iain, Yui, Wee and Damien for their help, kindness and hospitality during my time in Bangkok. Don't know if I could have done it without you.
From Bangkok, I caught the overnight train north to Chiang Mai, Thailand's second biggest city but much more relaxing and a lot less humid. I'm here primarily to see more of the Asian countryside so being the fit, adventurous, outdoor type (!?), I signed up for a three day mountain trek to the nearby... eh... mountains. It went a little something like this...Day 1
Get collected by the minibus on Wednesday morning and there are thirteen people in total plus our English speaking guide, Nan. It feels a bit like an Agatha Christie novel as everyone tentatively checks out everyone else, each one wondering who's got a dark secret or emergency cigarettes or a secret stash of toilet roll. In summary, there are two Spanish couples, three English girls, two French guys, two German guys, an Australian woman (spiritual earth mother called Sheila, I kid you not!) and a strapping, blond, handsome Scottish guy. He has to cancel to meet a friend so I take his place.
Nan's breaking us in gently as our day is punctuated with stops at markets, cafes, waterfalls, hot springs, geysers and we trek a total of two and a half hours, albeit up and down some severe climbs and descents, ending up at a tiny village in the jungle occupied by the local Karen hill tribe. Most of the hill tribes are pre-literate societies (imagine Govan without electricity or Burberry baseball caps) and they live very simply and basically. We're all sharing a not so large, one-room, hut on stilts so during the night, we very quickly become accustomed to the different tones and pitches of international snoring.
Day 2
Woken by the dawn chorus of Asian roosters except it's not bloody dawn - it's 4.30am! Subconsciously, everyone ups the decibel level of the more familiar snoring so eventually get back to sleep. Had a little mishap during the night when I tried to find the outside "toilet" hut without the aid of a torch and ended up face down in the mud (at least I think it was mud) so need to wash some clothes in the "shower", an elevated piece of guttering at the nearby stream. Head down there around 6.30am just as everyone's waking only to find that the Germans have laid their towels by the riverbank. No, not really, but it would have been funny. Actually, the German boys are titanic and polite and funny (no, seriously) in everything that they do. No physical labour is too strenuous, no meal has enough chilli in it and they generously offer round the deep fried crickets that they bought at the local market. I decline.
Trek all morning, some 9 or 10 kilometres in all, up and over peaks with great views north across the mist covered valleys towards the mountains of Burma and Laos. Arrive at an elephant camp by lunchtime and spend the afternoon meandering through and along side a river on the backs of these great animals to the village of the Lisu hill tribe, our stop for the night. By comparison, this appears to be a slightly more "modern" place with a real shower and greater numbers of children, filthy but happy, running around the place. Everyone's more relaxed at night and it's fun trying to communicate in broken speech, hand gestures and sound effects. However, it's particularly embarrassing and shaming to watch everyone make such an effort to speak English, mostly very well, and it instils in me a desire to learn a new language when I get home. I just feel that my two native languages, English and body, are just not going to get me very far everywhere in the world!
Day 3
After breakfast of Nan's (eggy) bread, we spend the morning on bamboo rafts travelling down the river. The scenery is lush, green and very peaceful and there's enough small rapids to make the trip invigorating as well as relaxing. I'm on the Anglo-Saxon raft (me, the English girls and of course the two Germans steering at the back) and the trip turns into a race at one point as the rafts come together. I can almost hear Stuart Hall's (from 'It's A Knockout') hysterical commentary in the background, "..AND HERE COME THE SPANIARDS! HA, HA, HA!" but German efficiency sees us through. After lunch, we take a bumpy jeep ride to an orchid/butterfly farm and all too soon I'm getting dropped off back at my guest house in Chiang Mai."I have returned from the jungle," I announce, Indiana Jones-like, to two dogs lying in the shade who don't seem as impressed as I am. Feel a bit like Richard Gere at the end of "An Officer And A Gentleman" when he's watching the new recruits, as I smugly observe two new arrivals reading the trek literature and debating which one to book. Decide to let them make their own choice since they can probably tell where I've been due to the dirt, grime and unique odour that I'm omitting. All in all, it was a great three days, probably not the toughest challenge in the world, but an unforgettable experience.
The best way to recover from a strenuous jungle trek, I always find, is to indulge yourself with a Thai massage. This is a particularly vigorous way to spend an hour especially when the massage is delivered by a woman who's clearly just retired from the WWF circuit. Haven't had my body contorted into such unusual positions since Mrs Evans, my primary 4 teacher, told me to assume the shape of a crab during music & movement class.
Later today, I begin my journey to Cambodia - dark, mysterious land with a troubled history or vastly underrated Kim Wilde single from the 80's? Tune in next time to find out.
Sawat dii khrap
Love, Neil x
PS Sorry this note is so long, especially for those of you receiving it at work. Will try and make future ones shorter and sharper. Just got a bit excited about the whole jungle thing.
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