I'd heard that Chiang Mai airport was actually quite close to the city itself, so I stupidly decided to walk it when I arrived. Unfortunately, it was pissing down with rain when I arrived, but I decided to press on undeterred. I knew from my map that I had to walk roughly North-East, and I'd eventually come to a moat that pretty much marked the city centre. So I looked at the compass, and then packed it away in my backpack. As it was raining, I couldn't stop and unpack again to double check on route that I was still going in the right direction. But I didn't really see this as a problem, because once you know which way is North, it's not going to suddenly change is it? What I didn't take in to account is roads that bend. Up until now, most had been fairly straight.

An hour and a half later, and I should have hit the city centre by now, but, instead, I'm approaching a mountain with only a couple of shacks around me. Something had gone wrong. Fighting every manly instinct withing me, I swallowed my pride and asked around for directions, and eventually found someone who could understand me. She pointed back in roughly the direction I'd come from. I'd been heading West the whole time. 2 bours later, soaked to the skin, I made it to my destination.

Since then, I've had a great time here in Chiang Mai. I've visited the night market a couple of times, which is absolutley massive, and sells all sorts of things. You can pick up t-shirts for about a pound and trainers and sunglasses for just a bit more. I also spent an afternoon wandering around the temples in the city, and was lucky enough to be in one at a time when the monks had a chanting session (though one was on his Mobile at the start, which looked a little odd.) There was also a monk-school next door, where little wannabe monks learn their trade.

I then booked myself onto a 3 day trek up the mountains to the North of the city. Our guide, introduced as 'Jungle Jim', was an absolute legend, and kept us well entertained on the journey up to the village where we were staying that night. It was on the ridge at the top of a montain and gave some spectacular views. The villagers were really friendly, and we had an absolute feast cooked up for us.

As it began to get dark we were joined by 'Mr Whiskey', who brought what he described as moonshine, and the drinking games began. The main one we played had a penalty of a soot mark on the face as well as a shot, and we all got pretty wasted and covered in soot. Jungle Jim struggled the most, and had to quit about halfway through with various black smears all over his face. Together with his lack of upper front teeth, he would have looked a frightening prospect. This was confirmed soon after, as he wildly stumbled into the other groups' hut, babbling incoherantly and scaring the shit out of the occupants.

Mr Whiskey managed to last the night, and kept us very entertained with stories about being a guide up in the mountains. The best thing about Mr Whiskey was his very particular hatred of a nation. He detested Canadians. Coundn't stand them. He'd had too many experiences to think it was just bad luck. Apparently, it's pretty easy for the guides to make a 1 hour walk into a 5 hour walk, and he'd done this a few times for Canadian tourists. Luckily for us, we were Canadian free. Oleg, a young Israeli chap fresh from finishing his national service, caused great amusement when he thought the mosquito net above his bed was a hammock.

The next day, Jim showed us the village schoolroom, and we played a quick game that's like volleyball, except you use anything apart from your hands, and it's with a ball made from inter-twined bamboo. Then we treked to a couple of waterfalls, had a swim and then lunch. The hamlet we spent our last night at, was at the bottom of a valley, and next to a little river. The 'shower' was a little open-top bamboo cubicle, with a barrel of water and a saucepan. While I was in there, I saw some elephants mooching around in the jungle uphill from me. I suddenly felt like a proper traveller.

Next day we had a small walk to the elephant camp, and got ready for our ride. I'd heard that the ride could be a little uncomfortable if you sat around the neck, as the bristles on an elephant are very thick and wirey, and can cause a serious amount of chaffage. So I was only too happy when Oleg asked to be the one to go on the neck (though I felt a pang of guilt as he slide himself down wearing his 80's style short shorts.) I asked him whether he was comfortable, to which he gave a hesitant "I don't know" as a response.

Our elephant was a young, stubborn and slow female. And her name was Come, which I thought was quite an unusual one. The jungle walk itself led us up some almost vertical ravines, which we would inevitably have to go back down. Oleg suddenly said "I want down" to our guide, and before he even had a chance to reply, Oleg had swung his leg over and jumped off. This seemed to freak Come out a bit, which had me concerned too, as we were on a narrow path with a large drop to one side. I attempted to give her some vocal reassurance. She responded by walking upto and then ramming her head into the elephant in front, which then shat itself. The guides luckily managed to restore order as I was working out how best to survive a fall with an elephant in tow.

After the elephant ride, we got on a raft for some white-water action, which was really cool. Our guide let us out for a swim along a quieter stretch, which we enjoyed until a snake decided to skim across the surface amongst us. Obviously, I screamed like a girl and swore it was coming right for me before scrambling back into the boat.

Found a cheap guesthouse for the next couple of days, and then I'll be off to Laos.

written by  olliejohnson on September 5, 2006 from Chiang Mai, Thailand
from the travel blog: A man from Cockshutt.
Send a Compliment

---

I'm sure the reason you got lost upon arriving is not your lack of directional sense, I think it's because you forgot that the compass points not to north, but to the thing you want most... but only if that thing is situated to the north of you.

And tell Mr Whiskey to hold his tongue until he's met some more Canadians, like Celine Dion, Bryan Adams and me. I'd guess he's just jealous of our amazing [read: terrible] musical talent. Definitely a winning bunch, we'd show him.

written by  Angela on September 5, 2006

---

Couldn't agree more Angela (on both counts) - cheeky or what!!!!

written by  Old Woman of Cockshutt on September 6, 2006

---

I really laughed at the elephant story! I have handed my notice in and will be setting off on my travels at the end of October, scared and excited!! Keep up the entertaining blog and keep enjoying yourself!

written by  Erica on September 6, 2006

comment on this...