Dear 2010,
I can't wait to get to know you better. So far, you've done nothing but make me entirely happy. You've got a lot of work to do...the last relationship I had with a year, 2009 to be exact, brought me many exciting feats, but quite a few instrumental and not-entirely positive changes, so you will be busy. With that being said, I'm sure you are up for the task, you big burly year, you. Here's to this being a fabulous year.
Love,
Alexis
United State of Pop 2009
Monday, January 25, 2010
Railay West Beach
After the boat ride from Krabi town to Railay West, we were completely ready for some version of paradise. Though you can't really see the colour of the crystal-clear water, I assure you it was a beautiful blue/teal/aquamarine and it was the perfect temperature: not too cold so we could plunge right in, but not too hot so it still provided a refuge from the hot January sun. The best part? I floated. Never before have I floated in water, even salt water. I don't know if my body has changed or if the salinity here was higher. It doesn't matter...it was paradise.
I had a thought as I was floating (yeah!) around in the ocean...if it wasn't for every single thing that has happened so far, I wouldn't be right here, right now. So I thanked everyone, good, bad, and ugly, for bringing me to right where I was. It was perfect...
...looking behind us, the white sand gave way to jungle-like greenery, where boutique resorts and hotels littered the grounds just out of the way of the naked eye. It was truly spectacular.
...and the view from our table out to the ocean:
Here's Leanne's version of the somewhat-ridiculous-but-also-entirely-awesome fisherman pants made famous in Thailand. Again, we'll have to see how they hold up in Toronto ;)
Railay West Beach from the right...
...centre...
and left.
I had a thought as I was floating (yeah!) around in the ocean...if it wasn't for every single thing that has happened so far, I wouldn't be right here, right now. So I thanked everyone, good, bad, and ugly, for bringing me to right where I was. It was perfect...
...looking behind us, the white sand gave way to jungle-like greenery, where boutique resorts and hotels littered the grounds just out of the way of the naked eye. It was truly spectacular.
We obviously had to splurge on drinks at an ocean-side bar on Railay West. Here's where we chose:
...and the view from our table out to the ocean:
Yours truly having the nation's bevie (I'm not sure that this is true, but you get the gist): the Mai Thai
Here's Leanne's version of the somewhat-ridiculous-but-also-entirely-awesome fisherman pants made famous in Thailand. Again, we'll have to see how they hold up in Toronto ;)
Railay West Beach from the right...
...centre...
and left.
Ton Sai: Where we stayed in Krabi
We took a plane from Chiang Mai to Bangkok and then a connecting flight to Phuket. We got there late, we were rather cranky, so we opted to take a $70 cab all the way to Krabi, where we would depart for the beach in the morning. Thank god...traveling sure does make you long for the beach :)
The first place we checked into was dreadful...we paid first then saw the room (Lesson #3 Learned: see the room before you pay), then moved to what we thought was the "budget hotel" listed in the guidebook. It wasn't, but the price was right, included breakfast, and the place was super clean. After our second roti in Thailand (soooo delicious) and some suspicious and equally tasty "chicken" on a stick, we were off to la-la land to rest up for our big trip in the morning.
We took a longtail boat to Railay West Beach. It was quite a beautiful ride. Paradise truly did await us.
So we beached all day on Railay West and then retired at night to Ton Sai beach, an apparently more upbeat, party-oriented place with cheaper accommodation. Cheap? Who cares. Check out this view from our private balcony on our bungalow. Does it GET any better than this? Well it does...when monkeys land on your tin roof, but that happens later...much later.
This is the tree where we saw our first (and definitely not last) monkey. Leanne was shocked: it looked like a cartoon version of itself with dark rims around its eyes. I've never seen wild monkeys before...this place was remarkable.
The only part I didn't like about Ton Sai was the self-righteous rock climbers who talked about nothing more than "the climb". I rolled my eyes harder on this beach than I had in the whole time I've been in Korea, in all honesty. In fact, when we were on our way to plan the albeit-a- little-lame-sounding-but-actually-wicked-awesome boat trip, the waitress at the bakery we really liked (with best quiche we've both EVER had...oh, but no one had any idea how to make it...again, eye roll) told us to report back to her how it was because she, "doesn't do that sh*t". Well excuuuuuse me, missy. I guess the only thing you consider worthwhile is scaling rocks all day long and serving overpriced coffee to other wankers? jeesh.
This was that bakery. Hilarious that a cat and a rooster are both picking at the crumbs left by the Self-Righteous. Oh, and I don't like roosters that much either. They really do have beady eyes that stared right into my soul. One told me subconsciously that it could peck apart my body with its crooked beak...or at least touch me with its avian flu feathers. It was revolting. So we add roosters to the list of animals that scare the living daylights out of me.
Sunsets on Ton Sai beach were amazing. Here's a man just loving life...I think he was a permanent resident there ;)
And the sunset began...the picture didn't really capture the intense orange colour of the sun, but you can kind of get the impression...
...more beauty...
The day after our first night, when we were far too well-acquainted with the Long Island Iced Tea, Leanne was feeling a bit under the weather. After a few hours in the cove that held heat with more steadfast vigor than hell, she was just about ready to die, when this lovely fruit platter (that you can't see due to her slouched body hovering over it in desperation) was delivered to her. She devoured it in such a way, I became certain that she had been possessed by Asian body snatchers (such was her style of eating). At long last, she came out of her hangover coma, and resumed life as normal.
Sitting in our favourite restaurant on Ton Sai, this was the bar, aka, the Procurers of the Long Island Iced Teas that made such a profound impact on my travel companion.
Just off to the side of our favourite Ton Sai restaurant, the wicked cliff that hung over the beach. This is where the novices would "practice" before hitting the "real cliffs". Oh dear. Needless to say, Leanne and I did not partake. Hey, lying on the beach is a lot of work.
Here is Ton Sai beach, from the right side...
...centre...
...and left.
Alright, I suppose this is a good a time as any to tell the story about the monkey on the roof. On our last night on Ton Sai, we were welcomed to our room by a fairly slow-moving (for a multi-legged creature) bright orange multi-legged creature. It ducked behind the mirror about two feet from my head before I could wrangle my shoe off to squash it. After much banging about, both of us holding a shoe to kill it, the dreaded beast would not come out of its hiding place. Since we knew that these things favoured dark to light, we kept the light a-burning, and would, all night if we had to. We both fell asleep with the light blazing over our heads. Soon after (or much later, who knows, who cares), we were abruptly awakened by the indisputable sound of a monkey landing, scrambling, then running across our roof. How do we know? We just do.
Imagine our horror: the doors to the room were more than likely locked, but the screen between us and the outside was thin; thin enough to be devoured by a hungry, crazed primate. What should we do? We banged on the doors of our thin hut, praying that the monkey would prove to be more scared of us rather than territorial and confident. After a few more moments of frantic movement, it seemed to go away.
Our racing hearts slowed eventually, and we even turned the light off, scared more now of the potentially virus-carrying opposably-thumbed creature than the creepy crawly thing over our heads. Just as we got over the giggles associated with the aversion from a near death experience and were drifting back into some semblance of sleep, the dreaded creature RETURNED. I have never been so freaked out in my life. Leanne catapulted herself onto my bed, hers being critically too close to the window, and we clung to each other in a vain attempt to stave off the wild beast. Alas, as soon as he came, he was gone again, the room washed with an eerie silence, save the other random jungle noises that were completely non-threatening before, but now carried with them the promise of certain death. Morning could not come soon enough.
The first place we checked into was dreadful...we paid first then saw the room (Lesson #3 Learned: see the room before you pay), then moved to what we thought was the "budget hotel" listed in the guidebook. It wasn't, but the price was right, included breakfast, and the place was super clean. After our second roti in Thailand (soooo delicious) and some suspicious and equally tasty "chicken" on a stick, we were off to la-la land to rest up for our big trip in the morning.
We took a longtail boat to Railay West Beach. It was quite a beautiful ride. Paradise truly did await us.
So we beached all day on Railay West and then retired at night to Ton Sai beach, an apparently more upbeat, party-oriented place with cheaper accommodation. Cheap? Who cares. Check out this view from our private balcony on our bungalow. Does it GET any better than this? Well it does...when monkeys land on your tin roof, but that happens later...much later.
This is the tree where we saw our first (and definitely not last) monkey. Leanne was shocked: it looked like a cartoon version of itself with dark rims around its eyes. I've never seen wild monkeys before...this place was remarkable.
The only part I didn't like about Ton Sai was the self-righteous rock climbers who talked about nothing more than "the climb". I rolled my eyes harder on this beach than I had in the whole time I've been in Korea, in all honesty. In fact, when we were on our way to plan the albeit-a- little-lame-sounding-but-actually-wicked-awesome boat trip, the waitress at the bakery we really liked (with best quiche we've both EVER had...oh, but no one had any idea how to make it...again, eye roll) told us to report back to her how it was because she, "doesn't do that sh*t". Well excuuuuuse me, missy. I guess the only thing you consider worthwhile is scaling rocks all day long and serving overpriced coffee to other wankers? jeesh.
This was that bakery. Hilarious that a cat and a rooster are both picking at the crumbs left by the Self-Righteous. Oh, and I don't like roosters that much either. They really do have beady eyes that stared right into my soul. One told me subconsciously that it could peck apart my body with its crooked beak...or at least touch me with its avian flu feathers. It was revolting. So we add roosters to the list of animals that scare the living daylights out of me.
Sunsets on Ton Sai beach were amazing. Here's a man just loving life...I think he was a permanent resident there ;)
And the sunset began...the picture didn't really capture the intense orange colour of the sun, but you can kind of get the impression...
...more beauty...
The day after our first night, when we were far too well-acquainted with the Long Island Iced Tea, Leanne was feeling a bit under the weather. After a few hours in the cove that held heat with more steadfast vigor than hell, she was just about ready to die, when this lovely fruit platter (that you can't see due to her slouched body hovering over it in desperation) was delivered to her. She devoured it in such a way, I became certain that she had been possessed by Asian body snatchers (such was her style of eating). At long last, she came out of her hangover coma, and resumed life as normal.
Sitting in our favourite restaurant on Ton Sai, this was the bar, aka, the Procurers of the Long Island Iced Teas that made such a profound impact on my travel companion.
Just off to the side of our favourite Ton Sai restaurant, the wicked cliff that hung over the beach. This is where the novices would "practice" before hitting the "real cliffs". Oh dear. Needless to say, Leanne and I did not partake. Hey, lying on the beach is a lot of work.
Here is Ton Sai beach, from the right side...
...centre...
...and left.
Alright, I suppose this is a good a time as any to tell the story about the monkey on the roof. On our last night on Ton Sai, we were welcomed to our room by a fairly slow-moving (for a multi-legged creature) bright orange multi-legged creature. It ducked behind the mirror about two feet from my head before I could wrangle my shoe off to squash it. After much banging about, both of us holding a shoe to kill it, the dreaded beast would not come out of its hiding place. Since we knew that these things favoured dark to light, we kept the light a-burning, and would, all night if we had to. We both fell asleep with the light blazing over our heads. Soon after (or much later, who knows, who cares), we were abruptly awakened by the indisputable sound of a monkey landing, scrambling, then running across our roof. How do we know? We just do.
Imagine our horror: the doors to the room were more than likely locked, but the screen between us and the outside was thin; thin enough to be devoured by a hungry, crazed primate. What should we do? We banged on the doors of our thin hut, praying that the monkey would prove to be more scared of us rather than territorial and confident. After a few more moments of frantic movement, it seemed to go away.
Our racing hearts slowed eventually, and we even turned the light off, scared more now of the potentially virus-carrying opposably-thumbed creature than the creepy crawly thing over our heads. Just as we got over the giggles associated with the aversion from a near death experience and were drifting back into some semblance of sleep, the dreaded creature RETURNED. I have never been so freaked out in my life. Leanne catapulted herself onto my bed, hers being critically too close to the window, and we clung to each other in a vain attempt to stave off the wild beast. Alas, as soon as he came, he was gone again, the room washed with an eerie silence, save the other random jungle noises that were completely non-threatening before, but now carried with them the promise of certain death. Morning could not come soon enough.
Boat Trip to Paradise
The boat trip needs little explanation, only, really, introduction. We wanted to go to Koh Lanta, an island off the coast of Krabi. We'd heard from so many (including Nathan) that it was quite the place to be...beautiful, not at inhabited, and fairly inexpensive compared to the other places we could go. When we looked at the price of getting to this island though and what it would cost to stay there, we opted to stay at Railay West for a little longer and just tour some of the islands off the coast of where we were. This way, we could stay in our paradise for a longer time without having to pack up and hike god-knows-where to stay at some unknown location. The haven in which we found ourselves in Ton Sai Beach was enough to elicit us to stay, so we took a little boat tour.
Now that I'm back, I have to watch The Beach again to get an appreciation for what this place looks like without all the boats, humans, and garbage (yes, people throw their garbage at THIS place...where is the tact?). All in all though, this was the most spectacular beach I've EVER seen...EVER. I think more spectacular than simply the beach was the fact that looking back towards the mountains, one could see that lush jungle was all that makes up this magnificent island...could one place be everything all at once? I think it can. Without further ado, here is Koh Phi Phi Ley Island, as seen from the breathtaking water...
If you had taken that first picture and then turned around to find me frolicking in the water, this is the sight you would have seen...
And your beach bum travel companions:
Alright, from the left side of the beach (this picture)...
...to the centre...
...to the right...
...that was the magnificent Maya Bay. What I didn't show you were, sickeningly, how many boats were overpopulating the tiny area to the right of that last picture. It's amazing really how much they are overusing this area and how in time, it will be full of gasoline and oil remnants and be unsuitable for inhabitants. I guess they don't care though...those tourist dollars keep pouring in. I was sorry then to be a part of it...but who doesn't want to see this amazing sight once in their lives? I'm so torn. Yeah, I look really torn in this picture...(eye roll):
Alright, we were also given the chance to snorkel. You'd think that with some of the best snorkeling in the world, I'd be thrilled to do this. You'd be wrong, friends. I tried, I really did. I got in the water, I donned the mask and the wind pipe apparatus, and I put my face in the water. First of all, I have asthma, so I don't think that breathing through a teeny tiny little tube is quite going to cut it. Secondly, the thought of breathing while my respiration system is entirely under water feels entirely unnatural and freaks me out to the point of hyperventilation. Third, I don't care for fish. I like them more than snakes, I'll give you that, but I definitely don't like it when they touch me or come anywhere near me for that matter. So when I put on the mask, slowly put my face in the water, and saw my first small fish (which, of course, later became the size of a barracuda), I had to get out of there immediately. The boat was much more comfortable and I was not the only one who had an affinity to air over water. I shudder at the thought of that giant fish trying to attack me!
Leanne, on the other hand, did not have such an issue, and was in that water and swimming around like a mermaid. She might not have looked that glamourous, but she certainly had a good time...
Here's a little cove just off the coast of Railay West where tons of people were snorkeling.
We rode around some areas where no one got off the boats. I guess they let you swim where the coral is good and keep you on the boat when it's just teal-coloured waters surrounded by lush hills. It's a hard knock life, let me tell you ;)
Now that I'm back, I have to watch The Beach again to get an appreciation for what this place looks like without all the boats, humans, and garbage (yes, people throw their garbage at THIS place...where is the tact?). All in all though, this was the most spectacular beach I've EVER seen...EVER. I think more spectacular than simply the beach was the fact that looking back towards the mountains, one could see that lush jungle was all that makes up this magnificent island...could one place be everything all at once? I think it can. Without further ado, here is Koh Phi Phi Ley Island, as seen from the breathtaking water...
If you had taken that first picture and then turned around to find me frolicking in the water, this is the sight you would have seen...
And your beach bum travel companions:
Alright, from the left side of the beach (this picture)...
...to the centre...
...to the right...
...that was the magnificent Maya Bay. What I didn't show you were, sickeningly, how many boats were overpopulating the tiny area to the right of that last picture. It's amazing really how much they are overusing this area and how in time, it will be full of gasoline and oil remnants and be unsuitable for inhabitants. I guess they don't care though...those tourist dollars keep pouring in. I was sorry then to be a part of it...but who doesn't want to see this amazing sight once in their lives? I'm so torn. Yeah, I look really torn in this picture...(eye roll):
Alright, we were also given the chance to snorkel. You'd think that with some of the best snorkeling in the world, I'd be thrilled to do this. You'd be wrong, friends. I tried, I really did. I got in the water, I donned the mask and the wind pipe apparatus, and I put my face in the water. First of all, I have asthma, so I don't think that breathing through a teeny tiny little tube is quite going to cut it. Secondly, the thought of breathing while my respiration system is entirely under water feels entirely unnatural and freaks me out to the point of hyperventilation. Third, I don't care for fish. I like them more than snakes, I'll give you that, but I definitely don't like it when they touch me or come anywhere near me for that matter. So when I put on the mask, slowly put my face in the water, and saw my first small fish (which, of course, later became the size of a barracuda), I had to get out of there immediately. The boat was much more comfortable and I was not the only one who had an affinity to air over water. I shudder at the thought of that giant fish trying to attack me!
Leanne, on the other hand, did not have such an issue, and was in that water and swimming around like a mermaid. She might not have looked that glamourous, but she certainly had a good time...
Here's a little cove just off the coast of Railay West where tons of people were snorkeling.
We rode around some areas where no one got off the boats. I guess they let you swim where the coral is good and keep you on the boat when it's just teal-coloured waters surrounded by lush hills. It's a hard knock life, let me tell you ;)
Elephant Trekking
Our day of elephant trekking was supposed to be just that: riding elephants. We didn't expect that "the extras" would really amount to anything. Turns out that the extras were what made the trip so special, in fact.
We started out at the Karen tribe, the same tribe (just of a different region) that are also called "Longnecks" because of the elevated rings they wear around their necks, making their head dangerously far away from their shoulders. Anyhoo, these were not long-necked people: they were just regular folk. And so began the nagging suspicion that my presence was becoming a little exploitative of these Thai natives. Argh...I can't stand that feeling. We were taken by bus from our cozy hotel to this tribe about an hour southwest of Chiang Mai. We were ushered out of the bus where a university-educated tour guide told us all about the Karen people as they acted out what seemed to be a scene in their lives. It was strange to see them weave scarves as if they were doing it for show (and as it turns out, they were, because later, we were asked to buy them several times simply because we had seen them being made), and it was not a clear representation of their real lives. Those who know Battlefield house will know that those people who act out the 1800's do it as an acting gig: these people were just kind of on the brink of acting and living. Photographing them felt odd...both Leanne and I were a little creeped out. This was definitely exacerbated by the little boy at our feet who was shoving small bracelets ("handmade", I'm sure) in our faces, pouting up at us, "Five baht." Be still my heart. I didn't buy any (I guess my heart was still).
Here is what seemed to be a grandmother pushing her child in a hammock-turned-swing on her porch-slash-living room. The kid was emitting these peals of laughter though, which put a little smile in my heart, despite the nagging, you know, feeling of using the people.
Despite all these odd feelings, we were in and out of there pretty quickly. We scrambled to the top of the village as soon as we could and the view from the top kept on getting more and more spectacular. Here's an example of the typical house there in the tribe in the hills...
Ahhh...and at long last fields of rice and soybeans. They, intelligently, rotate the crops depending on what will garner more money at market. Aside from this financial incentive, the natives know that rotating is good for the crops. Some other Asian countries haven't yet caught on. Sigh.
Here's Leanne with the fields of gold in the background. It was a long, hot walk, but it was magnificent to actually see real farming in progress. I've yet to see that here in Korea. Word on the street (alright, in the guidebook) is that you can go on an organic rice farm and help the farmers out for a weekend to get to know how it's done. Perhaps when the weather gets a little more temperate, I'll look into it. For now, here's Thailand's version of sustainable farming:
We took a much-needed break at this lovely waterfall. I was the only one in the group to actually go in, though the water wasn't really all that cold. How many times are you going to be able to recall, "Oh, that waterfall I swam in in Thailand was so amazing"? Not many, that's how many.
The rock where Leanne and I were sitting is at the right of the picture below. The makeshift pub where everyone convened (instead of in the water) is up to the left, and at the middle left is the bridge that evoked in me the kind of odd false security reserved for dads and equally scared girlfriends in bad parts of town when there is no other choice. But we crossed 'er, baby. And we made it.
Then there's my travel companion, contemplating our sanity as she reflects on the engineering of the bridge. Rather, she may have been reflecting on what kind of natural disaster may have resulted in a tree falling just so to causing us to later think that crossing to the makeshift bar would be a good enough incentive to risk our lives, teetering above the medium-sized rapids below.
Finally, what we had been waiting for...the elephant trek! Here we are carefully positioned on our elephant. At first I felt weird stepping on his head (she turned out to be a female) to get on her back and further her exploitation, but when I saw the gentle way this man (who, notably, is sitting on her head) poked and prodded her to get her going and then the amazing way they treated them when it was high time for a water and food break, I knew that the poor little gaffer didn't even flinch when the weight of me and then Leanne squished her brow. Still, the guilty feeling was alleviated until much later.
While we were completely insecurely clinging to life on a two-seater on the shoulder region of the elephant, which was placed on a thick blanket, this gentleman, our elephant whisperer, was atop his (oops...HER...gender is so quickly misjudged in this part of the world) head. He was carrying this wooden stick that was about three feet long. At the end of the stick, a dull metal pick stuck out that reminded me of what you clean horse hooves out with. He used this pick to move the elephant along if she dilly-dallied along the way. Since ours was the last ride of the day and the day was still quite hot, she made quite a few stops along the way to the apex of the hill, where the whisperer disembarked so the elephants could drink. Being a bit hot though, these little creatures didn't just drink, but attempted to cool themselves down by blowing water on their backs (read: on us). Being that the trunk is both the nose and the blowhole for water, it was pretty much like she was blowing her nose on us for a few moments. Pretty, pretty disgusting.
Following the ride, as I said, were the extras that made the trip so special. We took a bamboo rafting ride from one end of the river to another, where the truck met us with all our things (read: our passports). I was petrified for a moment that for sure they'd steal my identity and we'd be sold into the sex trade, but low and behold, they picked us all up, right on schedule. Phew. Have you seen Taken?
The actual ride was amazing. The bamboo raft was about twelve feet long and four feet wide. We sat four people to a raft, about three feet apart, and a paddlerman (official title? Maybe not) stood at the front with a large stick to propel us through the not-more-than-two-feet-deep water. Every now and then, he'd yell, "Snake!" to give him and excuse to slap the water too close to us, causing a big splash to interrupt our quiet, fairly dry ride. It was a hoot. We also went down two little rapids which, on a delicate bamboo raft, seemed pretty, pretty large at the time. All the while Leanne was telling me to, "Hold on for dear life!" and I refused to. And then the impossible happened.
Here's how Leanne saw it: We went down the smaller of the waterfalls, I didn't hold on, I lost my balance, and then I fell into the water.
Here's how it really happened: The Paddlerman yelled (for the hundredth time), "Snake!" and looked to my right. Following his gaze, I realized there actually was a snake there. I was petrified, as, being a female, I don't care for snakes very much. I freaked out, tried to stand up on the bamboo raft, could not do so, lost my balance, fell into the water that was only about 8 inches deep, and then, realizing that now I was IN the water where the SNAKE WAS, I scrambled BACK onto the raft, further losing my balance, but ended up back on, standing up. The Paddlerman instructed me firmly to sit down and stop pulling him (I didn't realize I had been pulling him in any way...oops). Leanne missed the snake BUT I was fortunate that our other two travel companions, plus the Boss Man did NOT miss it. It was only the size of a garner snake, but by the time the boat docked and we got off, it was a boa constrictor. Funny how size is altered on boats, isn't it?
I scratched up my foot and my shin a little (like, a really little bit), but I was scared of course that I had some sort of river parasite growing in me. It was a gross thought...someone has to think of these things. After a few days, naturally, I was fine. But the image of that snake has been permanently embossed in my brain. A swimming SNAKE? No thank you, Thailand.
We started out at the Karen tribe, the same tribe (just of a different region) that are also called "Longnecks" because of the elevated rings they wear around their necks, making their head dangerously far away from their shoulders. Anyhoo, these were not long-necked people: they were just regular folk. And so began the nagging suspicion that my presence was becoming a little exploitative of these Thai natives. Argh...I can't stand that feeling. We were taken by bus from our cozy hotel to this tribe about an hour southwest of Chiang Mai. We were ushered out of the bus where a university-educated tour guide told us all about the Karen people as they acted out what seemed to be a scene in their lives. It was strange to see them weave scarves as if they were doing it for show (and as it turns out, they were, because later, we were asked to buy them several times simply because we had seen them being made), and it was not a clear representation of their real lives. Those who know Battlefield house will know that those people who act out the 1800's do it as an acting gig: these people were just kind of on the brink of acting and living. Photographing them felt odd...both Leanne and I were a little creeped out. This was definitely exacerbated by the little boy at our feet who was shoving small bracelets ("handmade", I'm sure) in our faces, pouting up at us, "Five baht." Be still my heart. I didn't buy any (I guess my heart was still).
Here is what seemed to be a grandmother pushing her child in a hammock-turned-swing on her porch-slash-living room. The kid was emitting these peals of laughter though, which put a little smile in my heart, despite the nagging, you know, feeling of using the people.
Despite all these odd feelings, we were in and out of there pretty quickly. We scrambled to the top of the village as soon as we could and the view from the top kept on getting more and more spectacular. Here's an example of the typical house there in the tribe in the hills...
Ahhh...and at long last fields of rice and soybeans. They, intelligently, rotate the crops depending on what will garner more money at market. Aside from this financial incentive, the natives know that rotating is good for the crops. Some other Asian countries haven't yet caught on. Sigh.
Here's Leanne with the fields of gold in the background. It was a long, hot walk, but it was magnificent to actually see real farming in progress. I've yet to see that here in Korea. Word on the street (alright, in the guidebook) is that you can go on an organic rice farm and help the farmers out for a weekend to get to know how it's done. Perhaps when the weather gets a little more temperate, I'll look into it. For now, here's Thailand's version of sustainable farming:
We took a much-needed break at this lovely waterfall. I was the only one in the group to actually go in, though the water wasn't really all that cold. How many times are you going to be able to recall, "Oh, that waterfall I swam in in Thailand was so amazing"? Not many, that's how many.
The rock where Leanne and I were sitting is at the right of the picture below. The makeshift pub where everyone convened (instead of in the water) is up to the left, and at the middle left is the bridge that evoked in me the kind of odd false security reserved for dads and equally scared girlfriends in bad parts of town when there is no other choice. But we crossed 'er, baby. And we made it.
Then there's my travel companion, contemplating our sanity as she reflects on the engineering of the bridge. Rather, she may have been reflecting on what kind of natural disaster may have resulted in a tree falling just so to causing us to later think that crossing to the makeshift bar would be a good enough incentive to risk our lives, teetering above the medium-sized rapids below.
Finally, what we had been waiting for...the elephant trek! Here we are carefully positioned on our elephant. At first I felt weird stepping on his head (she turned out to be a female) to get on her back and further her exploitation, but when I saw the gentle way this man (who, notably, is sitting on her head) poked and prodded her to get her going and then the amazing way they treated them when it was high time for a water and food break, I knew that the poor little gaffer didn't even flinch when the weight of me and then Leanne squished her brow. Still, the guilty feeling was alleviated until much later.
While we were completely insecurely clinging to life on a two-seater on the shoulder region of the elephant, which was placed on a thick blanket, this gentleman, our elephant whisperer, was atop his (oops...HER...gender is so quickly misjudged in this part of the world) head. He was carrying this wooden stick that was about three feet long. At the end of the stick, a dull metal pick stuck out that reminded me of what you clean horse hooves out with. He used this pick to move the elephant along if she dilly-dallied along the way. Since ours was the last ride of the day and the day was still quite hot, she made quite a few stops along the way to the apex of the hill, where the whisperer disembarked so the elephants could drink. Being a bit hot though, these little creatures didn't just drink, but attempted to cool themselves down by blowing water on their backs (read: on us). Being that the trunk is both the nose and the blowhole for water, it was pretty much like she was blowing her nose on us for a few moments. Pretty, pretty disgusting.
Following the ride, as I said, were the extras that made the trip so special. We took a bamboo rafting ride from one end of the river to another, where the truck met us with all our things (read: our passports). I was petrified for a moment that for sure they'd steal my identity and we'd be sold into the sex trade, but low and behold, they picked us all up, right on schedule. Phew. Have you seen Taken?
The actual ride was amazing. The bamboo raft was about twelve feet long and four feet wide. We sat four people to a raft, about three feet apart, and a paddlerman (official title? Maybe not) stood at the front with a large stick to propel us through the not-more-than-two-feet-deep water. Every now and then, he'd yell, "Snake!" to give him and excuse to slap the water too close to us, causing a big splash to interrupt our quiet, fairly dry ride. It was a hoot. We also went down two little rapids which, on a delicate bamboo raft, seemed pretty, pretty large at the time. All the while Leanne was telling me to, "Hold on for dear life!" and I refused to. And then the impossible happened.
Here's how Leanne saw it: We went down the smaller of the waterfalls, I didn't hold on, I lost my balance, and then I fell into the water.
Here's how it really happened: The Paddlerman yelled (for the hundredth time), "Snake!" and looked to my right. Following his gaze, I realized there actually was a snake there. I was petrified, as, being a female, I don't care for snakes very much. I freaked out, tried to stand up on the bamboo raft, could not do so, lost my balance, fell into the water that was only about 8 inches deep, and then, realizing that now I was IN the water where the SNAKE WAS, I scrambled BACK onto the raft, further losing my balance, but ended up back on, standing up. The Paddlerman instructed me firmly to sit down and stop pulling him (I didn't realize I had been pulling him in any way...oops). Leanne missed the snake BUT I was fortunate that our other two travel companions, plus the Boss Man did NOT miss it. It was only the size of a garner snake, but by the time the boat docked and we got off, it was a boa constrictor. Funny how size is altered on boats, isn't it?
I scratched up my foot and my shin a little (like, a really little bit), but I was scared of course that I had some sort of river parasite growing in me. It was a gross thought...someone has to think of these things. After a few days, naturally, I was fine. But the image of that snake has been permanently embossed in my brain. A swimming SNAKE? No thank you, Thailand.
Wat Tour, Italian Dinner in Chiang Mai
Our next day in Chiang Mai was really relaxed. We toured around the main street of the city, exploring various temples (or wats, as they call them), and just chilling out.
This is an entrance to a temple. That poor monk child...he was just passing by and his teacher told him to go stand with us while we posed.
We saw this little wat and totally fell in love with it. I really don't hope the Buddhists have a philosophy against taking their picture when they're not looking, because I snapped quite a few candid photogs. Note the amazing display of patio lanterns. Wait for it...
Here's Leanne taking photos of a gross wat where we also found about a hundred dogs. They were sleeping, limping, atop tables surrounded by roosters, and digging under the temple. It was pretty disgusting.
This dragon was at the first (and most run-down) wat we stopped into. I just thought it was interesting that the old artistic protector was right beside the new Honda SUV.
This is the inside of that wat...it was so disorganized. Not at all like the ones we saw later. Oh, and there were pigeons living inside the temple, so the carpet was covered in...uh, excrement.
Further on down the street, I found this sign rather beautiful. Isn't Singer a sewing machine company? Rather fitting for this town: they hand make just about everything from suits to wedding dresses.
This was the most North American building we saw in Thailand. It was so Manhattan. We have no idea what it was though.
We took a break at a coffee shoppe called Wawee that misted its customers outside, saving them from the intense heat. They served the ice coffee in this plastic cup that I, of course, kept. Stranger still: it's orange, just like the Predator AND the Nalgene. I have an affinity for orange plastic cups. This one will be PERFECT for the camp though...that's right, it survived the whole trip and the plane ride home.
These are the massive doors that lead to the old city. We stayed on the outside (the Starbucks and night market side), but all the other things we did there were contained within the old city walls. The door was quite impressive.
Just outside that door was an old square where the Sunday Night Market set up. What a sight that was. This was on our walk home after dinner.
What do you know: they have doctor fish in Thailand too. These things are super cool (though, in my opinion, also incredibly disgusting): the nibble at your feet, whisking away any dead skin from the bottoms of your feet. They're very popular in Korea.
We had this marvelous Italian dinner at this outdoor restaurant. I'm wearing the entirely ridiculous fisherman pants I snagged at the shoppe near the guesthouse. They are magnificent, but I think only appropriate for wear in Thailand. I guess we'll see when the summer months hit here in Korea.
This is an entrance to a temple. That poor monk child...he was just passing by and his teacher told him to go stand with us while we posed.
Inside that same temple. Is this called the alter? That's a pretty good shot of what Buddha looks like to the Buddhists in Thailand: not at all fat and jolly, but certainly peaceful and welcoming. I even felt welcomed.
We saw this little wat and totally fell in love with it. I really don't hope the Buddhists have a philosophy against taking their picture when they're not looking, because I snapped quite a few candid photogs. Note the amazing display of patio lanterns. Wait for it...
And then I coined the phrase, "Kim Mitchell would LOVE this place!"
This is the inside of that wat...it was so disorganized. Not at all like the ones we saw later. Oh, and there were pigeons living inside the temple, so the carpet was covered in...uh, excrement.
Further on down the street, I found this sign rather beautiful. Isn't Singer a sewing machine company? Rather fitting for this town: they hand make just about everything from suits to wedding dresses.
This was the most North American building we saw in Thailand. It was so Manhattan. We have no idea what it was though.
We took a break at a coffee shoppe called Wawee that misted its customers outside, saving them from the intense heat. They served the ice coffee in this plastic cup that I, of course, kept. Stranger still: it's orange, just like the Predator AND the Nalgene. I have an affinity for orange plastic cups. This one will be PERFECT for the camp though...that's right, it survived the whole trip and the plane ride home.
These are the massive doors that lead to the old city. We stayed on the outside (the Starbucks and night market side), but all the other things we did there were contained within the old city walls. The door was quite impressive.
Just outside that door was an old square where the Sunday Night Market set up. What a sight that was. This was on our walk home after dinner.
What do you know: they have doctor fish in Thailand too. These things are super cool (though, in my opinion, also incredibly disgusting): the nibble at your feet, whisking away any dead skin from the bottoms of your feet. They're very popular in Korea.
We had this marvelous Italian dinner at this outdoor restaurant. I'm wearing the entirely ridiculous fisherman pants I snagged at the shoppe near the guesthouse. They are magnificent, but I think only appropriate for wear in Thailand. I guess we'll see when the summer months hit here in Korea.
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