Pai

We thought we outsmarted the guards. But as we hugged the bank of the hotspring, naked, squinting into the beams of two flashlights, we realized we were wrong. Thai's value modesty, so being caught naked is probably one of the worst farang faux-pas (farang means foreigner, and not usually in a good way). First we tried to drive in on our motorbikes, but they wanted to charge us 200 baht each. Then we parked in the dark down the road, walked back and sneaked around the guard's station, trying not to laugh or make sounds as we tripped blindly over shrubs and roots. We still couldn't find a way in. Our last resort? Bribe the guards. The hotspring was closed after all, and charging us the normal price was proof they were looking to make some pocket money. By the time we made it back on our bikes, the guards were gone. We kept driving and settled into one of the hotter pools, only a sliver of moon and sparkling stars lit the water. We soaked for about 15 minutes before the getting caught; with the heat of the pool, it was just long enough. Instead of fining us, the guards seemed more interested in the contents of a nearby garbage can.

Five Americans and one German strong, we made quite the motorbike posse. I was too scared to learn how to ride amidst the curvy roads surrounding Pai, so Bonnie and others were kind enough to tote me around on the back of theirs. We took a winding road north through peaks of mountains and stopped at a viewpoint for stunning vistas, clean air and grilled sweet potatoes. We continued on to a cave, but couldn't afford the mandatory guide and bamboo raft. Two years ago, all the hotsprings and caves were either free or barely charged. Now, with a recent tourist boom, the natural beauty of the area often comes with a price. No matter, we made our way down a dirt road and then a narrow footpath (on our motorbikes!) in an attempt to get to the base of a giant cliff. Based on the reactions of grazing cattle, it didn't seem like many of the locals use motorbikes on that path. Eventually, muddy crossings and steep inclines prevented us continuing our journey on bikes. We parked and hiked up rough fields and through jungles of brambles and bamboo before eventually we couldn't get farther on foot. I was wearing flip-flops, so I went barefoot most of the way, caking my feet in mud, stepping on a few brambles and enjoying the Thai landscape passing through my toes. We passed bamboo shanties of farmers and they gave Bonnie and Steve a bag of something we haven't yet identified.

It was dark on the way back, and I forgot to pack warm clothes. My teeth chattered, especially downhill. Tilman cut the engine and we floated downhill without a headlight, through curves and almost into some cows chewing in the middle of the road (unflinching, of course). The sun had set over the mountains and a pink glow hovered above them. Amazing. To get the chill out of my bones, I went straight to the herbal steam sauna when I got back to Pai. The smell of licorice filled my lungs, steam seared my face, it was a perfect end to a beautiful day.

The next night we celebrated Tino's birthday by sending off a couple of lanterns. We sent fireworks after the second one, trying to shoot it down. It floated high enough to appear the size of a star.

In the three hours in took to drive from Chiang Mai to Pai, we rounded 762 curves. Don't worry, I planned ahead and took a Dramamine- didn't feel a thing! The heart of Pai consists of a handful of streets filled with shops, restaurants, and guesthouses. The streets transform into a market each night, with souvenirs, black sesame pancakes and chrysanthemum tea at every turn. I stayed across the river in a bamboo hut, overlooking fields, mountains and spectacular sunsets. I spent plenty of time in my hammock and had to huddle in blankets at night to stay warm. I splurged $6 for a traditional Thai massage that ranks in the top 2 of all time. I followed it with an herbal steam sauna- just thinking about it makes me relax.

Reluctantly, I left Pai after 8 days. I made my way down to Chiang Mai for 2 nights and then on to Chiang Khong, a border town set on the Mekong River. From here, I crossed into Laos.

Here's pics of Pai:

Pai

If you missed my account of lovely Chiang Mai, click HERE.

Chiang Mai

Khao Soi is a traditional northern Thai dish consisting of rich coconut curry soup, thick noodles, mushrooms, tofu (or meat) and crispy noodles on top. It's eaten with chopsticks, lime, fresh sprouts and pickled greens. Some eat it with whole cloves of garlic and hot peppers as well. I had my first introduction to the dish at Pok-Pok in Portland, and ever since then I've wanted to try the real deal (if you live in Portland and order Khao Soi at Pok-Pok, it would be kind of like you and me having dinner together across the world. just sayin').

Chiang Mai is a popular place for foodies both because of the top-notch cuisine at stellar prices and also the culinary schools where you can learn to cook authentic Thai food. Vegetarians rejoice at the options here. It's easy to find real coffee, grown in the nearby mountains.

Chiang Mai has an old city, where most of the Wats (temples), restaurants and guesthouses reside. It's a popular place to visit, so it took me a while to find a guesthouse with an empty room. Everything in Chiang Mai can be had for less than Bangkok. Getting around is best done on foot.

I spent 9 slow days in Chiang Mai, long enough to develop favorite spots and recognition from the locals. I settled into a nice routine, spending most of my days writing, walking, visiting Wats, reading and exploring my thoughts over fruit shakes. I took roughly 3 cold showers each day and usually couldn't fall asleep before 2 0r 3am due to the heat. My favorite breakfast consisted of boiled rice soup with tofu and poached egg. Wat Phra Singh, in the heart of the old city, quickly became one of my favorite places to write. It's home to several temples and a luxurious garden full of shade, tables and wooden Buddhist sayings nailed to the trees. It is ever so quiet, aside from the occasional high school student wanting to practice English. They ask impossible questions, like "What do you want in future?" or "What is touristic in your country?" It's a big country, I told them, but mentioned Yosemite and New York so we could move on to the next question. "What do you know of Thai people?" they continued, as a group of them crowded around to watch. "What do you know of political situation in Thailand?" Maybe you could tell me about it, I suggested. She didn't know anything about it. The worst part is, they recorded the conversation and took my picture. There is a record- a record!- of all my awkward responses to their much too broad questions.Each Sunday night, the streets transform into one of my all-time favorite markets. Stalls hawk traditional handicrafts from nearby hilltribes, modern crafts from local city-dwellers, and tasty street food. Although it's called a "walking street," the crowds force more of a crawl. I thought all my senses might explode as I took in all the creative energy. Additionally, there are two nightly night markets- one sells cheap food and the other is a full-on craft bazaar that sprawls over several street blocks, malls and shopping centers.
On my last night, I met up with Tilman, a friend from Bottle Beach. We hopped on his motorbike and rode to the nearby Wat Suan Dok to watch the sun setting on the golden stupa.

I hated to leave Chiang Mai- I could live there!- but I knew another paradise awaited me in the mountain town of Pai.

If you missed the journey from the islands to Bangkok, click HERE.

Prachuab, a Thai massage and November's full moon

After such a slow pace on Bottle Beach, it only seemed fitting to make my way slowly back up towards Bangkok. I spent a night each in Surat Thani and Chumpon, port towns most commonly used as stopovers to the gulf islands. Next, I stopped in a tiny town called Prachuab, set in the middle of three gorgeous bays. I spent two lazy days there, maintaining the relaxed vibe from Bottle Beach. Not many tourists stop in Prachuab, which means less English-speaking natives and less vegetarian food.

At the top of a big hill, a tribe of monkeys greeted me. They looked me in the eye with expressions strangely resembling troubled faces of old men. Apparently these monkeys hopped a bus from Bangkok in search of mangos. They are well-fed, as evidenced by all the corncobs, peanut shells and banana peels littering the steps. From the top, I could see all three bays, the town of Prachuab and the mountains to the west. After being chased by a monkey (to the amusement of a group of tourists), I decided to make my way back down the hill. I stumbled upon a free lunch at the nearby temple. Prachuab has a lovely night market, selling meals from carts, mostly seafood.

From Prachuab, I took a bus to Bangkok and arrived just in time to enjoy the Loi Krathong festival, an annual event held on the full moon of November. Vendors lined the streets selling floats of flowers, banana leaves and baked bread in the shape of turtles. Each float has incense and a candle to be lit before placed in the river. Dance, martial art and music performances scattered the lawn near the river. Attendees munched on carnival food and swarmed to the river to send off a float. Lanterns floated in the sky until they burst and fell, flame extinguished. I bought a float with purple orchids and sent it down the river.

Also in Bangkok, I got my first Thai massage. I changed into loose cotton garments and laid down on a low bed. Despite my distracted masseuse texting and taking phone calls, she gave me a good massage. Thai massage focuses on the body's energy meridians; in addition to pressing strategic points on the meridians, the masseuse move your body into all kinds of positions, ones you've never attained yourself... not even in yoga class. She used her own body to stretch mine, wrapping her feet around my legs and pushing hard. She served me herbal tea and gave me a discount (I assume because of all the texting). I felt great afterward and was sore for two days.

While I waited for my Vietnamese visa to come through, I had time to visit more sights, including Wat Arun. Located on the river bank, it towers 250 feet high and takes courage to climb up and down the steep stairs. The surface is composed of tiny mosaic tiles.


I took a 10-hour overnight bus north, to Chiang Mai- haven of all things healthy with temples on almost every block and fantastic cuisine.



If you missed coconut shakes, tree swings and the lazy days of Bottle Beach, HERE it is.

Bottle Beach

I will remember Bottle Beach. It will stick out in my head years later when I think of Thailand. It's not so much what happened there, what happened there was not much at all. It's the feeling of the place, the people of the place, the pace of life there.

I arrived by way of as many methods possible. From Surat Thani, I took a minibus to a bus, a bus to a ferry, a ferry to Koh Phangan Island, a tuk-tuk to Chalok Lum beach and finally a longtail boat to the secluded cove of Bottle Beach. Phew!

A man who calls himself "50 cent" or "Alex" greeted me as I stepped into shallow water and onto shore. He told me it was "happy hour" for his bungalows, and led me to a hut with a porch overlooking the ocean. It cost $5 a night. I settled in and met "50 cent," who by then took to calling me "shorty," at the restaurant. Over masuman curry, he explained to me that all my expenses would accumulate on a tab instead of paying as I went, just one more thing to make life as easy as possible. I walked along the beach, marvelling at the longtail boats, picturesque, yet oddly named. Boats with names like "Snoop Dogg" and "No Money, No Honey" lined the shore, swaying gently in ripples too small to be waves. I sat atop large rocks overlooking the water and watched the clouds turn pink from the sun setting somewhere behind the mountains. I revelled in the quiet surrounding me; only a few other beachgoers dotted the sand. There wasn't a store or annoying tuk-tuk driver in sight. Instead, I could see only a handful of resorts tucked behind coconut trees.

With peaceful sleep in mind, I drifted off, only to be awakened by a terrifying thunderstorm shaking my hut. Lightening pierced through the shutters, through the curtains and through my closed eyelids. Less than one second passed between thunder and lightening. My fingers went numb from plugging my ears. I even prayed to a god I don't believe in. I tried not to think of how tempting my tin roof must have seemed to the lightening. All was calm and sunny the next morning as I walked, barefoot, to eat breakfast in a bamboo gazebo on the beach. I remained barefoot for the next week.

At once, the pace of my life slowed to a halt. Bottle Beach demands you relax simply by limiting your choice of activities. Among my options, certain things repeated at least once a day: sipping coconut shakes, swinging under the shade of the trees and swiming in the warm, calm waters. I spent the rest of my time walking the beach, writing and laying in the sand. I finished a book and started another. Once, I even killed a coconut with a picnic knife. It was by far the most strenuous thing a did all week. By night, I ate dinner with other travellers. We sat around bonfires, watched the Thai guys dance with fire, played poker and Connect 4, sipped awful rum and cokes, laid around in hammocks and played silly games to keep our minds from wandering too far. The Thai guys that worked on Bottle Beach always kept us entertained. To the ladies, they were constantly calling, "I love you long time!" To the guys they would say, "you my brudda from anudda mudda!"

Bottle Beach is a place you can find yourself long after you intended to leave. I managed to pull myself away after a weeks time, and headed inland, bound for northern Thailand. I stopped in many places along the way...details to follow shortly! To find more pictures, click below.

Bottle Beach, Koh Phangan Island

You can find all the scoop on Phuket, the Vegetarian Festival and monks with swords in their cheeks HERE.