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.