All photos and video from Thailand are finally online. I didn’t take many, save for busting my camera out now and then when acting like a tourist. The rest of the time, I suppose I preferred to see the land with my own eyes, not through the lens of a camera.

Enjoy.

The following was written 7-19, in Terminal 2 of Don Muang, Bangkok.

12:50AM UTC/GMT +7 hours Arrived at the airport and it seems every airline’s check-in booth is open, but United. I’m told they open at 3:30AM. There’s a waiting area here, so I’ve sat down with my pack. The airport is by no means empty, but is very calm. A strange state for an airport.

Kofi Annan on CNN.

1:09AM UTC/GMT +7 hours Just made a collect call home. Apparently Microsoft called me a few days ago for a game test.

1:15AM UTC/GMT +7 hours You know, I’ve been trying to follow this whole Israel-Palestine-Lebanon thing briefly when I get online, and I really don’t understand how anyone can be on Israel’s side.

I watched the first bit of Bush’s press conference in Germany where he said something like the “terrorists” are trying to “halt Israel’s pursuit of peace.” That’s about as crazy as saying that the US is pursuing peace – perhaps worse.

I read a few days ago that Kofi wanted a peace keeping force to go to Lebanon and stop them from attacking Israel, to give Israel an excuse to stop attacking Lebanon. How can he say that? If you want to occupy someone, occupy Israel. Give Hezbollah an excuse to stop attacking them.

Look at the numbers. There’s been, what, 14 Israelis killed? And how many hundreds of Lebanon folks (Lebanonese? Something like that)? Maybe Israel just has better bomb shelters or bigger boom sticks, but, regardless the reason, they are undeniably the more dangerous, terrorizing player.

Hell, the guest house I checked out of this morning has a sign on the front desk proclaiming they don’t accept Israelis because they’ve had too much trouble with them stealing. They’re terrorizing folks even here in Thailand.

But that was uncalled for. I’m attacking the Israeli government, not the people. And I doubt there are many Lebanon tourists here, so it isn’t a fair comparison.

Though while I’m on the subject of Israel, I’d like to say that they need to stop that compulsory military service thing. It blurs the line between government and civilian, and allows Israel’s enemies to justify killing of civilians.

4:06AM UTC/GMT +7 hours I’m at my gate now. The flight boards at 6:05AM, so I’ve about 2 hours.

Security actually acted like they care this time. They searched my checked backpack by hand, with machine, and even confiscated the waterproof matches I always carry with my first aid kit.

Those things cost like $5…

My money belt beeped going through the detector. It was just the zipper – she didn’t care to even unzip and look inside. I have my credit card in there, and could very easily have one of those credit card knives, too.

While they were searching my pack, I was asked if security could ask me some questions. I said yes (did I have a choice?), but then was only asked the usual “did you pack your bag”, “has it always been with you”, etc. I thought they were going to take me aside and poke something up my anus. Oh well. Maybe US will want to do that.

4:24AM UTC/GMT +7 hours I should mention that on my way to Bangkok, I put my backpack in 2 of the heaviest-duty trash bags I could find, in hopes of protecting it from the airport conveyor belts. It came out fine.

This time, I sent it through naked. I have no doubt that the bag itself will make it – it is, after all, military grade – but am curious as to the fate of the straps. This is a good chance to test it, since I don’t care so much about it going home. If it gets destroyed, I pick up another on ebay for $35.

5:39AM UTC/GMT +7 hours There’s a group of about 20 American kids here in bright green shirts. Look like high school. Their 2 chaperons are sitting next to me. I wonder who they are. From what I’ve overhead, they’re going to Chicago.

They’re being annoyingly loud.

The United folks are setting up for body searches, so perhaps I’ll be randomly selected after all.

I’m home now. Been back since about 9AM. Passport Control and Customs didn’t pay me a second glance, and my backpack came through unscathed, so there’s not much of note to mention there.

My hand written journal ends on the note of American whores, and so it seems I’ve come full circle: disillusionment, escape, and now back to the realities of America.

I’ve shaved, showered, tackled the 967 emails in my inbox, and napped. Strange to be back in my own bed. Strange to be wearing cotton again. Strange, I think, to not be in Thailand.

The following was written 7-19, waiting for my flight Tokyo.

3:51PM UTC/GMT +9 hours We arrived in Tokyo 15 minutes early, a good thing since security finally decided to take interest in me. My carry-on, at least.

The woman at the x-ray told her friends to search it. (I myself didn’t beep.) So another lady went through, found nothing of interest, and put through the x-ray again, but once more it was fingered. She searched it again, asking if I had any pens other than those she had already taken out. I told her no.

After a bit I decided I should point out the little slit compartment in the back of the bag that she seemed to be consistently missing. She reached in there and pulled out my Clif bar, a few receipts, and my mini camera tripod. Aha! The culprit.

Without the tripod, the bag was again x-rayed, and no alarms went off.

Funny thing is, I’ve never removed that tripod since packing it. No, I did use it once. But it’s been in that same place going through Tokyo airport before, not to mention Bangkok and Seattle, and no-one ever complained. Strange.

After that I went down to the cafe I had sat at a month ago, waiting for my plane to Bangkok, and had a lunch of greasy noodles. And now I’m at the gate, waiting for flight 876 to board and take me home to Seattle.

We’re to be served dinner and breakfast on this flight. The last plane served me breakfast, too: a rubber omelet. I had a bite, didn’t brave the sausage, and went back to sleep.

Let us hope I sleep on this flight. I arrive in Seattle in the morning and it would be best if I could stay awake all day and crash hard that night. Not that I’m in a huge rush to get over jet lag – I have no appointments when I get back for a week or two.

I wonder what movies will be shown on this flight. Hopefully not Firewall again. I assume they rotate every month.

Most of the people at the gate are Japanese. It was that way flying out of Seattle, too.

Two of those Green Shirts sat behind me on the flight from Bangkok. All they could talk about was the finale for some TV show and how much they missed Starbucks. In Thailand, there were actually times where I could be proud to be American, but that all goes right back out the window when I find myself back around other Americans. Most of them, anyway.

Can we really be such whores?

The following was written 7-18 over a banana smoothie, in Bangkok.

4:42PM By the by, I’m an official freelance journalist of the International Press Association.

Oh, and Chad: You know those love-bots you make? I’m sitting here in a café called Illy that sells something strikingly familiar.

The following was written 7-18 on a bench in Bangkok.

3:10PM I’m already being the stereotypical tourist, doing the whole Khao San thing and wandering the streets of Banglamphu, so, I figure, why not fall into a scam. Take the tourist image all the way.

Here’s how it worked:

I was wandering down a busy street, staring at UNICEF and wondering why they need a large, gated, guarded compound that looks like a government building. A nice looking Thai walked up behind me and asks if I was searching for anything. I said no, only looking at the buildings. He asked where I was going, and I said nowhere particular. First he tried to get me to go to the Grand Palace and Wat Pho, but I told him I’d already been there. He asked if I’d seen the giant standing Buddha, and I told him I hadn’t. He told me I should go because it normally costs 200 Baht, but today is a Buddhist holiday, so it’s free. And Grand Palace and Wat Pho were no good today, anyways, them both being so crowded from the holiday visitors.

After giving him my Lonely Planet for the map, he marked the big Buddha and Locky Temple, which I was to go to after. I told him thanks, and that I may walk that way, but he said no, tuk-tuk was better. Today, being the holiday, it would only cost 20 Baht instead of the usual 100. Just then, a tuk-tuk driver who seemed to be old friends with the Thai I was chatting with pulled up and asked if I needed a tuk-tuk. Before I could say anything, the two exchanged a few quick words in Thai and, the next thing I knew, I was in the tuk-tuk racing to the big Buddha. For 20 Baht

It was indeed free to see the statue, though I don’t know if that was usual or not. A few minutes there and the driver said ok, he’ll take me to the Locky Temple to see the Buddha there. When we got to the temple, I was told by someone standing around front that it was not open yet, but I could enter in 5 minutes. I waited 15, and nothing changed. I could see inside the room, and all it was was a bunch of old people eating breakfast and a few monks. It didn’t look anything special, nor did they appear to be finishing anytime soon, so I left.

The tuk-tuk beckoned me back and I was told now he would take me to the “Thai Expo Center” for some kind of coupon. I had no idea what that meant, but thought the guy had been nice enough yet, and all this for only 20 Baht So we zoomed off and parked in front of a gem shop. Some expo, eh? He told me to go inside for the coupon, so I wandered in. Yup, it was a gem shop. I asked the guy who opened the door for a coupon for the tuk-tuk and he asked if that was all. No gem? I told him that was indeed all. He looked disappointed, but scribbled something in Thai on a piece of paper, and I left. The driver was surprised to see me come out so soon, but motioned me back in to the tuk-tuk and we took off. In a little, he pulled over and told me what’s what.

The paper I had gotten was worthless. (I still don’t know what was written on it.) What he was after was a free gasoline coupon that the shop would give him for bringing me. Two if I purchased something. He was the one to ask for it, not me, and I would have to stay for at least 10 minutes, looking interested in an item. I was not required to buy, though it would be nice if I did.

We would try again, he said. This time at a tailor’s. I couldn’t blame the guy for wanting free gas, and it wasn’t costing me anything, save time, which I have a surplus of. Hell, he was driving me all over the district for only 20 Baht and gas here costs 28 (per what, I don’t know).

I went in to the Tailor’s he took me to, and the greeter asked what I was interested in. Shirt, suit, jacket? I latched onto his first suggestion and replied shirt. He showed me a few up front, which I browsed through, but was disinterested in. He then led me to the back of the store and asked me if I was looking for a solid color or pattern, but I said I wasn’t sure. By this time I was getting into it, and, when he asked me what color I wanted, I replied something darker. He showed me a few and I analyzed the craftsmanship and fabric, but, to pretend as if I actually had something in mind, I asked if he had any long-sleeved. Not here, I was told, but it could be made. No, I didn’t want to deal with that, I told him, thinking this an easy way out. But he was insistent and handed me his card should I change my mind. To add a final little flare onto my performance, I asked to see his fabrics. He showed me, I browsed for a bit, thanked him, and told him I might be back.

Feeling pleased with myself, I strutted out to the driver and asked how I was. Did I take long enough? The coupon promotion ended yesterday, he grudgingly informed me, so my performance was all for not. But he knew of another shop that would give him what he was after, so off we went.

This is a great time waster, I thought to myself. I’m glad I fell into it.

The next shop had no showroom, so I would have to change my act. Improv. Upon entrance on stage left, I was quickly shuffled to a seat by one of those Thais whose tailor has watched Saturday Night Fever one too many times. He gave me a few catalogs to look through, saying everything in there was next year’s model and would cost me thousands of dollars in the States. I believed him. The price, at least.

I flipped through the first catalog, set it down, and looked through the second. Then I picked up the first once more, turned to a random page, and told him I liked that one. It was actually a nice looking suit and I may have been genuinely interested in it if I weren’t morally opposed to the concept of “dressing up”. He took me over to the other side of the store and showed me the fabric. I asked him how much and he directed me to a couch. I was told to sit, while he ran off to find a calculator. (Thais rarely like to tell you a price, but will instead type it on a calculator for you to see.) He came back and showed me number: 4500 Baht.

I was surprised. That honestly was a good price. I acted to hesitate and he pulled off a similar suit from the rack beside us, beckoning me to analyze the craftsmanship. I hesitated and he asked what was wrong. Too much? Student? Tight budget? A new number on the calculator: 4000. Again I hesitated and asked for a card so that I could think about it and come back. No, he said, this was a one day sale. I hesitated more, saying that 4000 Baht was a good price, but was a lot for me to put down all at once (true). After a bit of back-and-forth, I was able to escape, saying I’d think and come back later today. He knew I had no intention of doing so. On my exit, I thought I should ask what time he closed to sound a little more interested.

Back on the street, the tuk-tuk driver didn’t look cheerful, so I didn’t ask how I’d done. He questioned if I’d been to the Grand Palace. Yes, I had. Wat Pho? Yup. Long tail boats? No, hadn’t seen those. Well, he would take me there.

He did so, I looked, snapped a couple of photos, and told the whole pier no, I didn’t want a 700 Baht ride. I only wished to look. Dodging the post-card saleswoman best I could (but failing), I walked back to the street. The driver asked what I would do now. Walk, I said. He asked for the money, and I handed him 20 Baht, thanking him for showing me around.

I really don’t know how much was a scam. It very well could be a holiday. Perhaps he got his coupon. Maybe two. Regardless, it cost me only 20 Baht (For what is really more of a 100 Baht ride) and time. And the boats were only a block from where he picked me up.

Afterwards, I wandered down the street to stumble upon a bakery that happened to serve slices of expensive (by Thai standards) and excellent chocolate cake.

I haven’t done much since then.

Yesterday’s initial shock is wearing off, and I’m once again taking a liking to Bangkok. We have a funny relationship, the city and I.

The following was written 7-18 in MBK Center, Bangkok.

8:30PM I’m in the Baskin Robbins at MBK Center – the one I first sat at all that time ago.

I came here for the theatre, deciding to pay the 250 for a VIP ticket to Pirates 2.

They aren’t kidding when they say VIP, and it cost less that a cheap ticket in the States. A huge screen, excellent sound, and the seats! Reclining La-Z-Boys with blankets. It’s awesome. The only thing the Seattle Cinerama has on this is size.

The movie itself was decent (English with Thai subs, by the way). I didn’t think it compared with the first – until the end. They set it up for an exciting sequel, and what I missed most in this one was Barbosa. Oh, and the actor who plays Chtulhu: I like the guy, but he pretty much just recreated his performance from Underworld.

There’s a poster for Spiderman 3 here. He’s silver.

I’m in a dangerous position…

Bangkok. At night. Time to kill. And a surplus of Baht that I will soon have little use for.

The following was written 7-17, in Bangkok

6:05PM The train came in at around 3PM. From the station I caught a motorcycle to the Barn Thai Guest house. That’s the last time I do that with my backpack – I about fell off the back of the motorcycle from the weight of the pack every time he accelerated.

We drove around for a good hour trying to find the place. Nobody who the driver stopped to ask had heard of it, until we found one guy who told us it exploded. At least that’s what I gathered from the broken English and sign language.

Boom.

So I chose another, but they were full. The third choice worked out, but they stuck me with a hidden “key deposit” fee of 200 Baht after I’d checked in.

Ah, Bangkok.

They’re playing Pirates 2 across the street on a couple of plasma screens. Not a cheap cam or anything, either. How long has that been out? It must have been since I left. Explains all the “you look like a pirate” comments I’ve been getting.

I’m only about a 5 minute walk from Khao San, so I explored that a bit today. Where else can you sit on the sidewalk, getting your hair dreaded, while listening to 50 Cent blast from a bar across the street?

It’s not as bad as it’s made out to be, really, but I’m glad I avoided it before. The whole district is getting on my nerves actually. Next time I’ll go back to the Suk 11.

I might go back to Khao San tomorrow and buy a fake press ID. They’re cheap, and you never know when that could come in handy.

The guest house looks to have a bag storage service. It’s 30 Baht, instead of the free I’m used to (everything is much more expensive here in Bangkok), but it’d be nice to not have to carry my pack around all day. I figure I could pick it up and head to the airport around midnight.

My Baht was running low when I arrived today. I probably could make it through with what I had, but decided to exchange a little more. I’m not running low on dollars, but trying to hang on to what I have so I don’t have a bunch to exchange on the other end.

I can’t wait to get out of Bangkok, though I’m not looking forward to the long plane ride, either. Wish I could go back North. Chiang Mai is about as much city as I can handle.

6:54PM Day 5 of 7 for Malarone.

The following was written 7-17, waiting for the bus in Phitsanulok

8:23AM I would like, sometime, to fill in the pieces. To record the events for myself and others. So much has happened on this trip, this journal representing only a very small part.

More so, I would like to write some sort of conclusion. Here, near the end of, I look back at all the people, bus rides, and blisters, and they all meant something. After all, they happened, didn’t they?

The following was written 7-17, on the train from Phitsanulok to Bangkok

9:16AM This train is a bit older and trashier than the previous one, but the seats are padded and the air-con works.

It sounds like a diesel engine…

The following was written 7-16, in Phitsanulok

8:01PM I’ve managed to acquire a towel. It took a deal of sign language, but it looks like a shower is on for tonight. Of course, I’ve already forgotten the Thai word for “towel” he taught me.

The following was written 7-17, in Phitsanulok

7:46AM The sky opened up, thunder roared and lightning flashed last night, just as I had reached the safety of the floating restaurant. The storm kept me pinned on the boat for a couple of hours, but eventually died down enough for me to make a run for it without getting too wet. I made for a spot a few blocks away where earlier I had seen tuk-tuks waiting. Sure enough, one was there, and he overcharged me (as usual) for a ride back to the guest house.

I’m sitting in a cafe now, with my pack. Breakfast is a banana smoothie and waffle – though waffles here are always considered more of a dessert.

One night in Chiang Rai, there was a street vendor selling waffles. Plain – no syrup, toppings of any sort – but were they ever good. One of the best, I’d say. These aren’t that great. Taste more like microwaved Ego, really.

There are two little girls here in uniform, looking like they’re waiting to go to school. They’re both watching the Disney Channel, the commercials on which are in English, but Goofy, Mickey, and even Donald are dubbed in Thai. (I didn’t think Donald spoke even English.)

The following was written 7-14, in the Dream Cafe at Sukhothai

7:06pm I sit here, at the Dream Café. A covered porch in front of an expensive guest house in the New City.

Dimly lit, all wooden, vines growing over the front. Crescent shapes cut in the support beams with dim lights inside. Delerium playing on the stereo – appropriate music to be played in the ruined city of Thailand’s first capital, representing their golden age.

I came for the dessert – 2 scoops of vanilla ice cream 1 scoop of chocolate, bathed in chocolate syrup – but will remember the drink.

“Stamina drink,” the menu said. Traditional medicine in the form of herbs and alcohol, steeped for months. Could I resist?

The taste reminded me why I dislike alcohol. A spicy, strong rum, that somehow seemed to defy gravity and sit right in my nostrils. A shock, and a cleaner, but luckily only a shot.

Will I fly? Or only levitate? Will I regain perfect sight?

Not yet.

Mosquitoes are fighting for their share.

Multiple herbal mixture formulas steeped in alcohol for several months, used in Thai medicine for protection from sickness and ailments.

• Formula 5 Rejuvination: Nourishes eye sight, nervous system, relieves pain from bad circulation, regenerative cure for the pubis.

The following was written 7-16, under the beating fan in my room in Phitsanulok

12:33PM In Phitsanulok now. Or something like that. I can’t figure out how to spell or pronounce it.

Perhaps I was naive, thinking I’d complete the trip with no more worries than where to throw my used toilet paper. Where I’m staying tonight, I’ve finally had to come face-to-face with the horror of an Asian squat toilet.

I suppose they’re not that bad, really. Just odd. There’s not even a pressure washer this time. Just a bucket of water. Luckily, I have a fresh roll of toilet paper with me. The strange thing is that, despite the toilet’s size, there’s only one small little hole for everything to go down, and that one little hole is the only place with water. So if you miss it, it all just kinda sits there. You have to try to wash it down with the bucket of water. And then of course it doesn’t flush, so after you get it in the hole, it all just sits there.

Doesn’t seem like the most intelligent design to me. I must be missing something.

I ordered deep fried shrimp for lunch today, but didn’t expect everything on the plate to come deep fried and battered. Deep fried asparagus? That’s just wrong.

It has been getting progressively hotter as I inch down south (though I’m still in the North). The AC on the bus from Sukhothai today was broken. It was only an hour, but by the time that was through, I was praising the 95F coolness of the open air.

Tomorrow it’s back to Bangkok. I went to buy a seat on the train, thinking that would be more comfortable and scenic than a bus, if slower. Choices with AC were limited, so I had to get on the 8:59AM train, and I’m not sure if I have a wooden seat or what. I will have to wake up early. Luckily the station is only about 3 blocks away.

The guest house here doesn’t provide a top sheet. I’ll have to break out my silk sleeping bag liner tonight.

I don’t yet know where I’ll be sleeping tomorrow, but I’m considering braving Khao San Road. I did my best to avoid it the last time I was in Bangkok. But a trip to Thailand doesn’t seem complete without at least a quick visit to the infamous ghetto.

My flight home is something like 5AM on the 19th, which means I’ll have to spend the night in the airport. Otherwise I’d have to worry about finding a guest house with an insomniac receptionist who would allow me to check out at 3AM, and then try to find a metered taxi. All unlikely.

At least I’ll have plenty of time to get through security…

Thanks to the magic of something-or-other, I think I’m due to arrive in Seattle only 5 hours later at 10AM. That is, as long as the hyperdrive isn’t busted. And Atton isn’t our pilot.

There’s only one thing I want see in Phitsanulok, and that’s a Buddha image in a Wat up north. He’s supposed to have some sort of dragon-flame-halo thing. The map makes it look to be out of walking distance in this heat, so I’m putting it off.

There are supposed to be a couple tasty boat restaurants on the river up that way. Perhaps I’ll catch a tuk-tuk up there this evening and have dinner after I visit the Wat.

There was a monk eating at the restaurant where I took lunch today. Aren’t they supposed to be, you know, begging and stuff? At least the count of nicotine addict monks is still only 1.

I hope all of you are enjoying reading this, and are thankful for my choosing to publish it. It seems most of the entries are full of my complaints. I suppose that’s the danger of traveling alone, with no one to whine to. I live the good moments as they come, and when I sit down to write, all that’s left is the bad.

There’s some good in it, I think.

The following was written 7-15, in Sukhothai Historical Park

11:30AM Fruitless, here in the shadow of ruins. Man’s labor, great civilization reclaimed by nature.

Crumbled stone returning to the womb of the Earth to become life once again.

Why keep playing?

The river is change, but endless. Coming and going.

Spirits returning to shadow, and the darkness engulfing all.

Only questions.

Looking and searching and grasping.

The following was written 7-15, in Sukhothai

1:30PM I’ve done the unthinkable!

Turned in a garbage bag full of clothes for actual laundry.

I cannot prance around naked, so not everything will get washed, but the clothes I wear most.

I walked to the halo Buddha’s Wat a little bit ago. It was much closer than the map made it appear. It is, I think, the most impressive Buddha I have yet to see.

Afterwards I stopped by an internet cafe I had seen while walking to the Wat. I’m hear now, in the loud room, on a computer that is getting constant pop-ups and virus warnings. A far cry from the Debian machine I had last night.

Speakeasy claims I’m getting 774k down and 364k up, but it feels much slower.

I’m almost out of time, but not looking forward to leaving the AC.

The following was written 7-15, in Sukhothai, partly by flashlight

7:30PM I went out to an internet cafe this evening to type up these entries, but before I could get much done, the power went out.

What worries me most is that this is the first time I’m unable to clean the computer. No cookies were deleted, no cache cleared. Though I think it will be alright. The cafe ran Debian, and if you can’t trust a Linux admin, who can you trust?

The power was out for the whole city, but walking back to the guest house, every window was lit with the glow of a candle.

It’s back on now. Was out for about 20 minutes.

My laundry isn’t dry yet, which means there’s no point in taking a shower till tomorrow. I hope I don’t sleep in and not give myself enough time to shower and pack before the 11AM check-out time.

Let’s hope the electricity remains – the prospect of a fan-less night is not appealing.

The following was written 7-14, in the attic of an old lady in Sukhothai

8:30PM The bus left Chiang Mai at noon and arrived upon Sukhothai at 5:30PM. From the station, I caught a tuk-tuk to the Baan Thai Guest House. They were full, but I was told there would be a room for me tomorrow night and another solution for tonight. A home stay, she said.

And so tonight I bed down in the attic of an old lady (she must be 80) who speaks no English. The bed is quite hard, but will do.

Tomorrow I will leave the room to the spiders.

The following was written 7-16, in Phitsanulok

1:45PM Before I left for Thailand, I heard from a few people that, by the end of their trips, the Thai language got to annoy them – it’s so tonal and can sound very much like whining. That hasn’t happened to me.

But the French!

I’ve discovered that if you see another white person in Thailand, there’s something like a 97% chance that they’re French. As such, you hear the language all the time around guest houses and the tourist strips. I have no idea why, but it’s really begun to annoy me.

And it’s nothing else about the people. Sure, they’re a quirky bunch, with their attention to manners and being so proper, but it’s only the language that has grown to annoy me.

Nothing against the French. Only an observation.

The following was written 7-13, in a windowless room in Chiang Mai.

8:54PM Back in Chiang Mai.

The bus ride over played Tears of the Sun. Bruce Willis shouldn’t be dubbed in Thai. It doesn’t work.

I must be staying in the Italian quarter of town. Pizza and other Italian restaurants abound. I found a tasty one for lunch. Homemade ice cream, too.

Even in Thailand, I’m told I look like a pirate…

Today marks day 1 of 7 that I must take Malarone out of the malaria zone.

Found another used book store and traded

Shopping for Buddhas

The following was written 7-12 in an alley in Chiang Rai.

6:04PM Chiang Rai is one of the few cities in which the bus station is actually near the center of town. Within walking distance, even with a huge pack.

I didn’t have anything to do this evening, and ate dinner just a block away, so I decided to wander on over and buy a ticket to Chiang Mai for tomorrow.

The bus station is a noisy place, already hard to hear each other speak. As I was talking to the guy at the ticket window, this loud music started blasting. I thought to myself “Cut this horrible racket! I can barely understand this guy as it is.” The music stopped as soon as I finished at the window, and I turned around in time to see the whole station sit back down and return to business.

Oops. It was the National Anthem. Hey, at least I was standing.

The following was written 7-11, homeless in Tha Ton, not so in Chiang Rai.

6:14AM The van dropped me off in Tha Ton at about 4AM. I walked around town a little – not a challenging feat in this place – but all was closed. So I found a small little park, perhaps 20ft x 20ft, right next to the Tourist Police station. It had a couple trees that looked like they could provide rain cover, and a bench to lay on. I was able to get a little sleep before the sun came up.

Now I’m sitting on a pile of dirt across the street from the guest house I want to try, ants crawling all over me. The gate to the guest house is still closed, despite the sun being up and the city being awake.

As I said, the “mini bus” was a van. Packed with rows of seats, we were able to squeeze in 11 people, with one sitting on the stick shift. (Remember when I said I was the 15th to sign up?) Thais love to overbook. And let’s not even start on how they attempted to fit all the luggage. I think that a normal bus to Chiang Mai and then back north would have been a better deal, and more comfortable.

The guest house isn’t showing signs of waking, and a rooster felt the urge to walk up to me and start making loud, annoying noises, so I think I’ll wander around and find breakfast.

8:18AM The idea of me coming here was to spend the night and then jump on the river boat to Chiang Rai tomorrow, where from I could bus back to Chiang Mai at some point. Now I’m of the mind just to leave on the boat today – there isn’t much to hold me here. I look forward to a 3 hour float down the river.

4:14PM I’ve arrived in Chiang Rai!

Whether or not there would be a boat today was questionable. Because of gas prices, they only leave if there are 6 people. I was the first, and until just 30 minutes before the scheduled departure, there were only 5.

I seem to be getting used to sleeping on park benches, which I did all morning. The locals weren’t able to get used to seeing a scruffy, long-haired, white guy taking a nap in their park, though. I might be starting to smell… Perhaps I should bite the bullet and pay to get real laundry done?

As I was lying on the bench, three hill tribe women came up, selling their wares. Though none of us spoke a common language, we carried out a conversation for a bit. It was fun.

Today turned out to be Buddhist Lent, which meant the banks are all closed. A Swiss and her Thai boyfriend were all out of Baht, and needed to get to Chiang Rai so that the Swiss could reach her flight home. They asked me to spot them the 600 Baht for two boat tickets, which I did, and promised to pay me back when we docked at Chiang Rai – they would have a friend waiting at the pier who could pay me. To be honest, I didn’t really care if they could pay me back or not. I happened to have the Baht on me, and they needed to get to Chiang Rai. And that’s it.

In a Buddhist country, it doesn’t matter whether you believe in Karma or not. It just is.

I enjoyed the ride in the long tail boat. They sit so low that it feels like you’re skimming on water. The views (of the parts I didn’t sleep through) were wonderful. Not a road in site. Just green, green hills.

When we got to Chiang Rai, the Thai-Swiss couple’s friend was there with the money. He was a fat old man, whom I was told was a “medicine man”. I named him Bullfrog.

The couple had previously offered to drive me to any guest house I wanted, which I took them up on – a good thing, as there were no taxis waiting at the boats. We jumped in Bullfrog’s little car and zipped through town, defying every traffic law one could. Not even the Buddhist Lent Parade stopped us – we pulled right in, weaving through the monks and nuns.

They were driving down to Nan tomorrow, and offered me a free ride, but I declined. I want a couple nights in Chiang Rai before I bus south to Chiang Mai.

Now I sit in the guest house. It’s nothing much to look at, but has two strong fans and screen doors on the opposite sides of the room for bug-free ventilation.

It’s been exceptionally hot today. I look forward to a cool night in a bed – certainly superior to a night stuck in the back corner of a van, swerving to miss bumps, but still hitting them, in a sit leaning forward from the pressure of the bags behind it.

5:46PM Uh oh. Found another ice cream shop. They have something called a “chocolate trio”. That’s like, chocolate 3 times. Must be good. We’ll see.

The ice cream was bad. My stomach regrets it. They call themselves America’s Favorite Ice Cream Parlor, too. I’ve never even heard of the guys before today…

I’m in a funky little internet cafe across the street now. They have tasty looking smoothies – I should have come here before the ice cream place and gotten one of those instead.

Somebody is taking a bunch of pictures of the place. Maybe I’ll end up in an ad somewhere.

Speakeasy says 612k down, 515k up.

I was exploring Chiang Rai earlier. Found the night market, but they were just setting up, so I wandered down here to kill a little time.

I’ve been online a lot lately. Updating daily, it seems.

The following was written 7-12, in Chiang Rai.

12:01PM There are ads for the Camel Trophy all over town. A strange spot on the globe for them.

I found a used book shop earlier. Some ex-pat’s attic, with stacks and stacks of old, dusty books. Cobwebs covering the Tao section. All it needed was a large, old leather chair, and it could be home.

The following was written 7-10, waiting for my 11PM bus in Pai.

6:26PM The bakery stand reappeared a bit ago, providing me with one donut coated with sugar, and another glazed with chocolate.

It started pouring again after I bought the donuts, but I’ve taken cover in front of a general store – there’s tables and a slightly-leaky awning.

I’ve only 30 pages remaining in my book, which I’m trying to save for later. 4 hours left. There’s a stand across the street selling BBQ Pork. I’ve been contemplating crossing the street for a couple of pieces the last 20 minutes or so. Keep hoping the rain will let up. If I do get soaked, I won’t have any guaranteed place to dry off in.

A dry restaurant is a tempting place to kill a little time, but I’m not hungry enough for a full meal.

It’s funny to see Muslim women decked out in their black robes and headdresses cruising down the street on their motorcycles.

I respect them for being able to wear all that in the heat.

There is a poncho in my daypack…

I’ve seen a couple minivans with “Aya Services” plastered on the side. That’s probably my ride for tonight.

Is taking off in the dark of night, on the windy, steep roads that are surely by now wet and muddy, the greatest idea?

A guy just got on his motorcycle dressed in a shiny silver rain suit – coat and pants. He looks like a space man.

An angry mother screeched her SUV to a halt and yelled at two kids across the street at the noodle stand.

I’m not having much luck waiting the rain out.

Waiting for the words to come. Writing passes the time.

Two Aussies sit down beside me. Beer and smokes.

They ask if I’ve seen Loose Change. And if people believe it in the States.

Poncho out of the daypack. That’s a start to moving, I suppose.

8:03PM I picked up a couple sticks of pork (they’re skewered) and ventured back to the guest house seating area.

In only a few minutes I finished reading Off the Map. It’s been, I think, 3 years since I first read it. Maybe 2. I don’t know. Anyway, it deserved a re-read. Especially while on the road.

They’ve some bad 70’s disco playing here. And a TV with a dubbed American-looking movie.

And so what to do? Still 3 hours to go till the bus leaves.

Just remembered to take a Malarone.

This movie looks really bad. They’ve been desperately leading up to a sex scene with a blond bimbo for the past 10 minutes.

Oh, and the music has now changed to elevator piano-jazz.

There’s not much to do in Pai at night, but drink.

And speaking of drinking, I need to pee before getting on the bus.

I’m tired, for it being only 8PM.

The mosquitoes are chewing me up. I’m tempted to grab my pack and find somewhere else to sit.

I wonder why they chose to have an 11PM bus? Why not push it back till tomorrow? Does the van not get here till 11PM? Who knows.

They just popped a DVD into the TV. It’s got a trailer for some action flick that looks pretty intense (“The Duelist”). All I can tell is that it comes out, or comes to DVD, December 2005. But I digress. At this rate I’ll be out of paper by Tha Ton.

The following was written 7-10, in the reception area at the guest house in Pai

12:10PM Whatever knocked out the power last night must have snapped a few other wires, too.

I checked out of the guest house this morning at 11:30AM, leaving my pack in the back room. The first internet cafe I stopped at said the connection was down. So I took the long way around town and had my usual lunch at the burger joint. Alaska’s cell phone wasn’t working – “no network,” it said. Across the street at the used bookstore, I browsed every English title they had. Nothing jumped out at me for a purchase, so I was gone in about 30 minutes.

Then it was back out into the heat, walking back down the street to the internet cafe I stopped at yesterday. (Or was it the day before? Yesterday, I think.) The high speed connection there was out, but they still had working, if slow, dial-up. A few minutes of that – before I had a chance to save any of the posts I was typing – the dial-up went down.

For the past hour or so I’ve been sitting here in the open but shaded reception area at the guest house, reading and sucking on pineapple juice. It catches a nice breeze.

I keep forgetting to buy more pens. Running low on paper, too. I saw a nice hand-made journal at a gift shop across from the coffee place earlier. Perhaps I’ll wander down there and buy it.

It’s still too hot to attempt a walk to the Wat outside of town – or anywhere not within a few blocks of here, without a destination promising air-con or a fan.

Think I’ll go back to reading now. Maybe the internet will be back in another hour, maybe not.

Obviously the internet is back up. I’m at an internet cafe/bar, sitting at an eMac. The keyboard is a bit stiff, making my typing funky, but at least it works. Speakeasy says 203k down and 187k up.

I walked back down to where the gift shop with the journal was, but it seemed to have vanished. I can’t find it anywhere. Was I dreaming this morning? I can still remember the feel of the paper on my fingers – it must have been real. I must make another attempt later.

I did finally go to 7-11 and buy more pens. I found some soap with Tea Tree Oil, too.

You know what else vanished? The Muslim bakery with the donuts. I wanted another donut, but no…

The clouds and the mist have crawled back over the hills, cooling down the valley. A strong wind was blowing earlier as I walked around. Could rain, but I hope not. I don’t want my already questionable bus ride to become more questionable.

Speaking of which, I wonder when we’ll arrive? I don’t think Tha Ton is more than 3 or 4 hours away. Arriving at 3AM in Bangkok is one thing, but a small town in the middle of nowhere – getting into a guest house could be a trick.

The following was written 7-9, hiding from the rain in Pai

5:48PM It’s amazing. The roof really isn’t anymore than dried leaves and it’s pouring outside, yet I’m dry in here. Or, rather, I would be dry had I not been on the other side of town when it started. Point of the matter is that those leaves really work.

On the way back across town, I stopped and bought some pineapple and, across the street, a decent donut at a Muslim bakery. I’m enjoying those now, with a Malarone. I think I’ll call this dinner – I’m not very hungry, anyway.

The following was written 7-9 in Pai, by a glowing green light

9:00PM Power out. One more reason to never be without a flashlight, kids.

Power on.

The following was written 7-9 in Pai

6:55PM Pai is a lot harder place to get out of than it is to get into. The main buses only go to Mae Hong Son and back to Chiang Mai – effectively making a loop around Doi Inthanon National Park. Trouble is, I don’t want to go to either of those places. I want to head N.E. to Tha Ton.

It’s possible to hop on a Chiang Mai bound bus, get off at the juncture of highway 107, and hope for a north bound bus to come by and pick you up, but I’d rather not risk that.

It’s also possible to rent a motorbike and drive yourself to Tha Ton, but knowing the steep, windy roads around here and the way most Thais drive, I’d rather not risk that, either.

So I’ve had to resort to the bottom of the barrel, the scammiest of the scammers: a private travel company. I’ve bought a 400 Baht ticket (it would be cheaper to get a bus to Chiang Mai, and another from there all the way up to Tha Ton) on what I’m told is an air-con minibus direct to Tha Ton. When the lady was filling out the paperwork for my ticket, it looked like I was the 15th to book.

The worse part of the whole thing, though, is that the bus doesn’t leave till 11PM. Well, I’m supposed to be there 30 minutes early, so 10:30PM, but what am I to do the entire day? I checked with the front desk here at the guest house, and it’s fine if I leave my backpack here all day, but still. There’s really not much to do in Pai but lounge around the cool, covered, bungalow. I’ve been to all the shops around town, have been being satisfied with only one or two meals a day. We shall see.

I’ll save an air-con internet cafe for the heat of the day – I can kill a couple hours there. Perhaps pay a visit to the bookshop across the street from the burger place – It’ll take me a little to browse all the titles there. Perhaps in the evening I’ll try walking to the Wat outside of town.

Let’s hope I don’t have any trouble or regrets from the “bus” ride. It’ll be an experience, anyway.

I had lunch again today at the burger place. There was only one other customer in the place, an old ex-pat from San Francisco, in purple tank-top, who hadn’t been in a while, but remembered Seattle as “far out”. He spent the majority of his meal attempting to explain the concept of smoked salmon to his Thai wife.

Told me to give Pike Place his regards when I get back, “dude”.

Usually when exchanging money, I slip my bills under the window and get back a fat stack of Baht. Today, after lunch, I went to trade $100 and the guy wanted to know my name, where I was staying, who I was traveling with. He also checked each twenty to make sure it wasn’t fake. The little name tag he was wearing said “trainee”, perhaps that explains it.

By the way, fifties and hundreds get slightly better exchange rates than twenties. I’ll have to remember that.

Speakeasy tells me I’m getting 360k down and 168k up.

I thought it would be a good idea to google the side effects of Malarone, but, as usual, they seem to be every disorder under the sun. The diarrhea medicine I took before I left had a listed side effect of diarrhea. I think someone needs to go back to the drawing board for that one.

The following was written 7-8, during my first night in Pai.

9:01PM I took dinner at Amido’s Pizza Garden across the river. At almost $4, it’s the most expensive meal I’ve had yet, but tasty, and the town deserves my Baht.

(You’ll notice I’ve been avoiding Thai food since being sick. I don’t think that the food had much to do with it, but still…)

Amido couldn’t do enough to tell you how great Santana is.

“He want make guitar talk to you, he make guitar talk to you. He want guitar cry, he make guitar cry.”

The breeze off the meandering river makes the nights cools here, but also welcomes mosquitoes. A couple big ones kept bugging me at dinner.

I broke my own rule and neglected to put socks on before heading out tonight. I think I’ve survived so far with no new bites, though.

Took another Malarone with dinner.

The following was written 7-7, during dinner in my last night in Chiang Mai.

8:47PM Took first Malarone. 35 tabs left.

The following was written 7-8, as I sat on the bus leaving Chiang Mai.

10:14PM I got to the bus station at about 9:00AM today. The same woman as yesterday sold me a ticket for the 10:30AM bus, but this one isn’t air-con.

So I’m sitting on some bus now. Let’s hope it’s the right one. It does say Pai on the front, so, even if it isn’t the correct bus, it should get me to the right place.

I’m right underneath a fan, so it should be all right not being air-con.

The thing sure is crammed. Seats can barely fit 2 people. bags are thrown in the backseat.

They seem to be moving Thais around to make room for us Farang here in the back. There are 6 of us, so far.

I’ll be impressed if this thing makes it up the hills.

The following was written 7-7, during the night of my failed attempt to leave Chiang Mai.

5:26PM One month is at one time too short and too long. I love Thailand. I don’t have time to see half of what I want to. But I also miss my home. I am of my bio-region, its soil, its wind.

The following was written 7-8 upon my arrival in Pai.

3:21PM Pai seems to be a quiet, lazy town filled with with dreadlocks, Bob Marley, and shops openly accepting drug use.

Nice place.

4:30PM About 45 minutes before we arrived in Pai, the bus was stopped at some sort of checkpoint. Two policemen, hands on their hips, ready to draw, boarded the bus. They asked for all the Thai people to show ID, though didn’t care much to see the passports of us Farang.

One officer had the guy siting next to me get off the bus, and we sped away without him.

Strange.

Upon arrival in Pai, I walked up and down the main street a ways before heading down to the river for a place to stay.

I ended up in a private bungalow for 300 Baht a night, that would probably run closer to $500 a night back home. It’s got a wooden frame with bamboo walls, wooden floor, and a roof of dried leaves thatched with bamboo. Plenty of bamboo mats and back pillows to throw on the floor and on the front porch. A large glass door in the front, private bathroom in the back. And a large bed with mosquito net.

For lunch I stopped by a burger joint run by an old bush pilot from Alaska. He’s been in Thailand for 6 years. Seemed please to meet someone from relatively close to home. The burger was one of the best I’ve had, too. He imports his beef from the States. I’ll probably go back tomorrow.

Actually, he’s only the third American I’ve met on this trip.

The following was written 7-4 in a hill tribe village, somewhere in Northern Thailand.

5:36PM We climbed 1200 meters, almost straight up, during the hottest part of the day, in about 1.5-2 hours. It was hell. Within about 15 minutes I was dizzy and all my limbs were trembling.

It wasn’t the actual walk that got to me – my legs weren’t tired at all – but the heat. And dehydration.

It was worth it though, for the view. Rolling green hills wherever you look. We’ve been lounging around the village here for the past 2 hours. About 150 live here. All the buildings are bamboo. And on stilts.

I’m told dinner is elephant trunk. I think he’s joking.

There are dogs and chickens all over the village. The people grow corn to sell and rice to eat.

The following was written today, 7-7, during my failed attempt to leave Chiang Mai.

11:28AM Felt a lot better when I woke up this morning.

Last night at around 7PM I found the energy to get out of bed. I walked down to the 7-11 and bought water, bad chocolate chip cookies, and shampoo.

The shower this morning was nice. My hair feels somewhat normal after using the shampoo – Bronners makes my hair way too greasy.

Now I’m sitting at the bus station, with a ticket to Pai. I have no idea where I’m supposed to be, but the bus doesn’t leave till 12:30PM, so I’ve got time to figure that out.

I like Chiang Mai, but have spent far too much time here. Almost a week.

I hope I don’t start feeling sick again on the bus ride.

Last night I drank most of the water I bought, save for 4-6oz. In that I put 25 drops of Grapefruit Seed Extract and downed that. It tasted horrible, but, like I said, I feel better, so it must have worked.

1:00PM I missed the bus.

I swear the ticket said terminal 26, and everyone I asked agreed, but when I went back to the ticket window at 12:40, she said terminal 13. I guess no one but herself can read her writing. There weren’t any other buses to Pai today. I caught a tuk-tuk back to the inner-moat area and checked into another guest house for the night. Would like to get out of this city, but it looks like I’m in for another night.

The following was written in Chiang Mai, the night before my trek

11:07PM I’m tired and would like to go to bed, but I want to update this before I leave on the trek tomorrow.

I went to eat at a burger stand today. Good food, and they had plenty of funny signs making fun of Bush.

After that, I walked all around the inner-moat area. I ended up stopping at 6 different used book stores, but my daypack limited me to only buying 3 books.

At 5PM I caught a tuk-tuk to a Wat in the outskirts of town for Monk Chat. A monk about my age name Song (at least I was pronounced “song” – probably spelled something like Sawng) and I chatted for close to 2 hours about Buddhism. He cleared a lot of things up for me, and confused me more on others. It was a good chat, and I’d like to go talk with him again, but he convinced me even further that Buddhism is not for me. It’s so disconnected from the natural world.

From there, I walked to the clear other side of town for the famous Chiang Mai Night Bazaar. I managed not to buy anything, save for a spicy noodle dinner, but it was an impressive event. I wonder why we don’t have things like this back home.

I came back to the guest house at about 10PM and have spent the last hour packing. Trying to decide what to bring, what to leave here in my backpack, what to place in the sealed envelope. I’m leaving my passport, license, credit and debit cards here, along with most of my cash, but taking copies of the aforementioned and a little cash with me. I hope I won’t have any trouble leaving my valuables here. They’ve been fine here in my room, and will tomorrow will be locked away in a more secure location, but it still worries me.

I’m leaving my camera here, but will bring a journal with me (not this one – a waterproof one).

Off to bed.

The following was written 7-6 in Chiang Mai.

2:35PM Woke up this morning feeling sick.

Been on the toilet a lot. Would like to vomit, but can’t.

They moved me to a new room at 12. Sleeping ever since.

Speakeasy tells me I’m getting 232k down and 194k up. Slow, but this is one of the nicer cafes I’ve been in. Cheap, too.

I don’t know what I’ll do the rest of the day. Probably just read a book.

Teerapong Gunshum left their Google Talk logged in.

Looks like trouble at Critical Mass. The Seattle ride rarely makes news.

And a new Patrolling has been released! That will have to wait till I get back.

The following was written 7-3 in Chiang Mai.

12:44PM I got into Kristi House last night around 9:30PM. The front desk must close early because only the after-hours security guard was there. He spoke very little English, but managed to get me a room.

I can’t say I’m very impressed with the place. It’s more of a hotel than a guest house. The rooms are very plain and impersonal. I didn’t think of this at the time, but I probably shouldn’t have taken guest house advice from a smoker. Smoking is allowed in all the rooms here. But that doesn’t bother me – if it weren’t for the ashtray and sign that asks you not throw butts out the window, I probably wouldn’t know. What bothers me is the smell of the horrible strongly scented cleaner they must use to mask the smoke.

But for 200 Baht, it’s a very good deal. I have a queen size bed and a private bathroom.

After checking in last night I headed down the block to the Sunday Night Market, a seemingly endless row of craft vendors. Had I not been limited by the space in my backpack, it would be incredibly hard to hold on to my Baht. As it was, I just feasted on a variety of food and fresh-squeezed juices.

I seem to have lucked out in location. There are excellent restaurants all over the place. I’ll be putting on some weight here.

Today for breakfast I had a sort of noodle soup with chicken and vegetables. They also had chocolate milk shakes, so I indulged, even though I should be avoiding dairy.

This morning I signed up for a trek. 1,100 Baht for 2 days, 1 night. Elephant riding, white-water rafting, bamboo rafting, hill-tribes, and all of that. We leave tomorrow at 9:30AM. (Tomorrow is the 4th of July? It seems it was just the 1st yesterday.) I chose the short trek because I think I’ll be doing more of them as my journey continues.

After I get back from the Trek, I think I’ll spend one more night in Chiang Mai (not at Kristi). Then I’m considering following the “Northern Loop” itinerary in Lonely Planet till I get distracted and decide to break off.

One thing I’ve decided for sure that I want to do is stay at the Akha Hill House, a remotely located guest house run by the Akha tribes people. It sound like a nice place to stay and do little for a few days, plus they organize overnight stays in the surrounding jungle with guides who build huts and cook with bamboo. It’ll be like a Ray Mears TV show… kinda.

I’m enjoying Chiang Mai. It’s much calmer than Bangkok, and less smelly. It’s just as hot in the day, but a little cooler at night. Surprisingly, there’s an incredible amount of Farang here. Much more so than Bangkok. You can’t walk a block without seeing another white person.

The architecture of the Wats is very cool – sort of a Buddhist spin on Ronan from Lord of the Rings – but they’re small and all rather similar, so there’s little sight seeing to do here in that department.

The following was written 7-5 in Chiang Mai

6:48PM Where to start?

We spent the rest of the evening at the village playing cards and being impressed by Jungle Boy’s (one of the guides) magic tricks. That’s the only name he would give us, by the way. Jungle Boy. He deserved it.

The bed was a bit hard that night – just a blanket on the bamboo floor. They also provided another couple blankets and mosquito nets.

I’m all chewed up now. Not from the night, but the earlier evening.

I think I forgot to mention dinner. It was rice, curry, vegetables, and mystery meat (white, but had more flavor than chicken). And pineapple. Lots of pineapple. Given today and yesterday, I’ve probably eaten my weight in pineapple.

This morning they fed us breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, toast, and tea.

We started walking again at about 11AM. It was rather cool and misty (not to mention down hill), so was much easier than yesterday. The English girl had trouble with the slope – she slipped and fell a lot. I did once.

An hour later we were at the elephant camp and rode them around in a loop for 45 minutes. They didn’t seem to be treated very well. Not much worse than any animal in captivity, I suppose, but weren’t as happy as the Elephants in the royal stable in Ayuthaya.

From there it was on to white water rafting with another group. It wasn’t anything serious, but there were a few good splashes. Fun.

We beached the rafts after about 30 minutes and jumped on bamboo rafts, which was a lot of fun and incredibly wet. With the weight of people, the bamboo sinks a few inches beneath the surface, so you’re actually sitting in the river. The water was shallow enough that one probably would have stayed drier just walking down it.

They fed us lunch and trucked us back to guest house.

It was a good time. I’d recommend the trek to anyone who can walk.

My pack at the guest house had been untouched. Same with the “security” envelope, so that’s a relief.

After I picked up my stuff from Kristi’s, I caught a tuk-tuk to a hostel a few blocks north. When I arrived, they told me they were full. The tuk-tuk driver (who was the same as the one who drove me to Monk Chat, so we knew each other) offered to take me to any other hostel I wished, for free. But the second one I chose was also full. The driver didn’t mind, so I asked him to take me to another on the other side of town. It was more expensive, but I’d walked by it a few times previously and it looked nice enough.

They only had a room for one night, and I wanted 2. The lady at the desk said she’d find me another room for tomorrow. At least I have somewhere to crash tonight.

The rooms are similar to Kristi, but much nicer. There’s also a TV, which was a surprise. I took a long shower and did a little laundry in there too.

Now I’m eating a bit of dinner and afterwards I think I might wander over to the night bazaar again.

I’m not feeling very motivated to write in this at the present moment, but figure I ought to at least try to bring it up to date.

My pen is running out of ink. I’m also running out of soap. I think I might need to buy a hair brush, too.

I’ll try to find some internet tomorrow and post everything.

The following was written 7-2, on the train to Chiang Mai.

9:57AM I’m on the train to Chiang Mai now.

Yesterday I went on the tour with 4 others.

5:22PM The hills here are not as huge and other-worldly as the Cascades, but are so jagged and chaotic in shape and nature that they still seem to resist the notion of human subservience. I look forward to meeting their inhabitants, animal and other.

5:45PM I stopped writing before due to the bumpiness of the ride, but it’s better now. Where was I?

I went on the tour with 4 other folks from the guest house. A French couple and an Irish couple. We cruised to the first Wat, which had a large tower in the center you could climb up. Inside, there were 5 Buddhas surrounding a deep shaft in the center. Bats flew all over the roof. I didn’t want to scare them with my flash, so I avoided taking many pictures.

One thing I particularly enjoy about the ruins in Thailand is that one is free to explore and climb all over them. So unlike many historical objects and sites in the West, which one is rarely allowed to even touch.

From there, it was to the royal elephant stable. We pet, fed, and watched the elephants bathe. One baby couldn’t get enough of me. She kept attempting to eat my foot and, when that wasn’t working, decided she would wrap her trunk around my leg and go for the whole thing. She was strong enough to lift my leg and I was soon on all fours for balance. Later, when I turned around to leave, she grabbed my backpack and held me there.

By the time we were done with the elephants, it was pouring like I had never seen, with thunder and lightning, too.

We made another stop at a monument to the king, but one second out of the shelter of the tuk-tuk and you were taking a bath, so we canceled the rest of the tour and headed back to the guest house. Roughly an hour after that, the rain held up enough for us to venture out to a restaurant for dinner (the night market was closed due to the rain). That was my first restaurant in Thailand.

Then we headed back to the guest house, reaching it a bit after 11PM. I was told the England vs. Portugal match would be “a bit of crock” (gotta love the Irish), so I watched about an hour of that.

I’m not sure what people see in soccer. It didn’t seem anymore entertaining than other sports, perhaps less. Though I was told that this wasn’t a very good game, what with Portugal tumbling around and crying every time they got kicked in the shin-guards. I went to bed when it was still 0-0, so I don’t know who won.

A good day.

The Irishman suggested a guest-house in Chiang Mai, so I plan to head there when I get in tonight. It’s not listed in Lonely Planet, but he’s stayed there 3 times, and has also done treks through them.

When I left this morning, the Baan Lotus lady was sad to see me go. She made me promise to come back, and told me to bring a girlfriend. She also told me I was very smart, but then outlined her face, so I assume she was referring once again to my good looks.

Did I mention she arranged a tuk-tuk to taxi me from the guest house to the train station?

And so now I’m on the train. It’s about a 9 hour ride, with a couple hours left to go. I don’t know where we are now, but we’ve been stopped at this station for 5-or-so minutes. A lot of people got off – I hope I’m not supposed to. But it hasn’t been 9 hours yet and I think Chiang Mai will be larger than this.

Lunch was served about noon. It was chicken and rice, with a side dish of what seemed to be a cross between pot-stickers and banana bread. Tasty. There were also 2 of what I can only describe as Thai chicken nuggets.

The water had ice in it – I hope that won’t kill me. Later, at 3PM, we were given a piece of some sort of cake and two of what resembled sugar cookies. I also got a cup or orange soda, but wasn’t as carbonated as what you normally get in the states. I liked it better. (I also noticed that, last night, the Lemon Juice I had with dinner wasn’t as acidic as back home.) The food here on the train is processed and microwaved – obviously not up to street vendor par – but kicks the shit out of what you’re given on American trains or airplanes.

The seating is like that of an airplane. Not as comfortable as Amtrak, but nice. All in all, very good for just under 600 Baht

We’ve begun to move again.

I wonder if they’ll serve us dinner?

6:30PM The scenery on the second half of the trip has been beautiful. The mist shrouded hills, rice fields. I almost feel as if I’m in some old Vietnam movie.

It’s not surprising the trains and buses are knocked out so much in the rainy season. Some of the hills and cliffs we pass so close to show signs of sliding in the past, and appear to want to slide again very soon. I should take pictures for my Geology professors.

As I noticed us pass by one such spectacular hill, it started pouring. An impressive site. It stopped soon after, but I wonder what would happen if the track was covered in front of us?

What with the greenery and clouds that have been with us ever since, it at times looks as if I could be back home in the Pacific Northwest. I wonder if it’s hot and muggy out there? It doesn’t look it, but the train has AC and, knowing Thailand, it probably is.

My seat is stuck in the back position.

Most people, I think, take the night train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai. I prefer this. It’s cheaper than a sleeper train and you can see what you’re moving through. Plus we’re fed, which I doubt happens on the night train.

Yet another lengthy stop we’re making.

This could very well be my first day in Thailand without eating a pineapple. I’ve been averaging at least one whole one from street vendors a day.

6:53PM Thais love to ask where Farang are from. I always respond “United States” and most of the time they understand, but sometimes I have to say “American”. I’ve often used the word to refer to myself in opposition to, say, Canadians, but I don’t understand it. Are not Canadians, Mexicans, and Patagonians just as American as those of us in the USA? It seems to me that all residents of North America, Central America, and South America are equally American. Claiming otherwise would be to say that only Germans are Europeans or Laoations the only Asians. I wonder if Bush realizes the implications when he claims to do something for America or Americans.

…I wonder if Bush realizes the implications of anything he says.

7:05PM It’s the density of the trees and the rest of the greenery that really awes me here. You don’t get this back home. It’s such that one can hardly imagine something like what I’m seeing now is even possible. Untouched.

And the houses. We pass small tin shacks, with nothing more cleared away than the space needed for the building. No yards, no driveways.

The telephone polls and occasional power station are out of place here.

We’re now stopped at “Khan Tan”.

7:14PM What’s with these long stops? Earlier we would stop at stations for no more than a minute, but now it’s no less than 10. I hope I’m not supposed to be getting off.

The following was written 7-1 in Ayudaya

3:32PM The lady who runs the guest house has a van that goes to Kanchanaburi tomorrow. She tried to sell me on that, but I told her I was thinking of going to Chiang Mai. A few minutes later, she came up to my room and said that because it was the weekend (I hadn’t realized), I might not get a train ticket. She gave me a time table and said that if I wanted, she would send “the boy” to go buy a ticket for me. So, he’s off buying me a 2nd class ticket for the 9:52AM train to Chiang Mai. It arrives about 8:00PM.