Chiang Mai Trekking - Day One

It should be stated that I love music. I do – I love it. And I often wonder what I'm missing out on by wandering the world without an artificial soundtrack.

I battled with this thought many times. But apparently I don't need one. No, because i just hum the Spider-Man theme song at random, or – you know – in front of a group of nine other people I'd just met, whom I will spend the next 38 hours with. Some people would have the courtesy to look embarrassed. Not this guy!

And that's how it all started. We were an eclectic group of ten. Most of these end up being seven Aussies and three Brits, or something like that. We were three french, one Canadian, two Dutch, two Germans, one Romanian, and an Aussie for good measure. We had a good load of the world covered here.

To be honest, I didn't really know what I had signed up for. I just knew I wanted to do something, and for 1100B I was willing to take any risk. I mean, that's what? Two Pizzas?

After a good long time in the truck driving ever further away from Chiang Mai we eventually stopped at or first destination: An elephant farm. Who knew that elephants were the things one would farm? But they are. And they're lovely. And they seemed to be in much better condition than the ones in Cambodia, or even at the Bangkok Zoo. These were happy well treated elephants. And that's what I'm going to keep telling myself, even if evidence to the contrary presents itself.

So what did I do? I rode the elephants. Because that's just what I do. That's just how I roll these days. You had to climb up a ladder to a wooden platform, which reminded me of a zepplin tower. From there, you just stepped on the elephants back, and made your way to your seat. Then you strap yourself in and hope for the best.

I can say with all honesty, elephants? Not the most comfortable thing to ride in the world. But, interesting enough. We went down to the river, up some trails, down some trails, around some bends, and then back to the wooden towers to get off. All in all, I spent about an hour on the back of this animal.

One of our group didn't feel secure in the seat, so he sat on his elephants neck, feet locked behind the ears. Apparently he'd been trained to ride this way. You know Germans, they're all trained to ride elephants barebacked, right?

It was strange to think that these were the breeds that would have been sent off to war. Can't quite picture it – though even since watching 300, I've found war elephants old and busted. War Rhinos are the new hotness. Though I'm not sure they were ever used in the real life.



After the elephant ride there was some delicious food (a rice dish with a seemingly bottomless resupply for seconds, and then thirds) before we headed off to the trail head. Ahh the trail. Three hours of up up up into the hills. I can walk forever in a straight line, but once you add the incline, it gets dicey. Am I fearing the trek to Machu Picchu? Yes, yes I am. Though with all the flooding there as of late, I'm worried it might not be cleared by the time I get there two weeks from now.

The trek started fine, and for the first hour and a half it was. I was in the head of the pack, waiting a good five minutes for others to catch up at each break. And it was these breaks that started to kill me. We would walk twenty minutes, then rest for ten. This is not the way to get anywhere, and it destroys your momentum. But that wasn't the worst thing. At the midway point there was a waterfall. A beautiful delightful waterfall that called to me. So down i went to jump into it, and stand underneath it. And the water was freezing, and wonderful, and refreshing. The perfect way to escape from the heat of the Thia day.

Until we started to walk again. The cold water had told my legs to seize up, and that they should do no more walking. And had I thought about it, I would have realized this would have happened – but I wouldn't have cared, because, you know, waterfall... Still – it made the last hour and a half, the last five minutes in particular, hell. I was still at the mid point of the five of us, but I was good and ready to die when I got to the top. I started thinking of what it would be like to be a soldier fighting in hills, carrying your pack all the way to the top, just to be shot there. It must be so annoying – not that you got shot, but that they didn't just shoot you at the bottom. Yup, that's what their great concern would have been, I'm sure.

But once you get to the top, and you're looking out at the sun setting over the jungle, you start to forget the trek up. And then there's dinner being place in front of you, and you forget even more.

We slept in a bamboo hut, on bamboo floors that felt like they might break with every step. But they did not. Underneath all the mosquito nets it reminded me of the parachute room scene from Pearl Harbor, although a little less scandalous.



As we lay in bed we could hear fireworks shooting off in the distance, and then a banging of drums. Off we went to investigate. It turned out that tonight was the final night of the hill tribe's new years eve celelbrations. And as such little four year old children were firing off rockets, while the older children danced in circles around the fire, while the still older got trashed on whatever alcohol was available. New Years – for seven days. How anyone can survive this is beyond me.

And seeing little children waddling away in a hurry from the three second fuse they just lit? Somewhat of a frightening thing. But then these guys have open fires inside their wooden houses, so they know what's what.

The best part is that when the fireworks explode, little pieces rain down on your head. Yes, that is the best part.

After an hour of circle dance watching we headed back to our huts. The music, and explosives would carry long into the night. The last time I woke up and clocked them it was for twenty in the morning.

Beautiful.

I'm Sick. I Know.

I woke up this morning to the Australian's friends shouting her name over and over. My bed was shaking.

At one point they started smacking here screaming her name. I could pretend to sleep no longer. The image of her worming under the bed from last night still terrified me. But now all seemed to have worked itself out in the great cosmic way. She was dead.

They smacked her for another two minutes, before accepting my claim as to her no longer being in the land of living. With the bed no longer shaking, I could get up and put on some pants.

Then her leg twitched.

Damn.

And that was it. That was my day. It ended at nine in the morning. And do you know why? Because I watched – that's right: Torchwood.

But I'm done with it now. The habit is broken. Well that's not right. More like I ran out of episodes. But I've seen the full series now. And it's done. So now I have no more media to consume.

Except for HIMYM and Big Bang Theory that still comes out every week. And Lost will be starting up soon. Oh and True Blood – that will eventually hit the air once more. And then The Pacific (follow up to Band of Brothers) starts in two months.

But – nothing else pressing.

Except Smallville. I'd like to catch up on that if only because I've sunk so many years of my life into it. And this year they say it's really ending. Although that's why I've stuck with it since season 4 when it was supposed to end. But no more on this.

I did nothing all day.

But I thought about travel some. About how going to a new country, or a new city doesn't really hold anything for me anymore. I've seen cities in the Orient, I've seen Europe, I've seen North America, and I've seen Africa. Within a few weeks I'll have seen South America. And I know Australia will be different – but I'm squishing Namibia and North America together, and assuming that's about right.

Soon enough I'll have seen most natural landscapes. I'll have seen everything. When I hit Antarctica in March there really will be few secrets left to me. And I'm already starting to feel that.

The world is becoming Rome. And Rome, if you recall, is just a museum.

It's no longer about going to see the majesty of the museum. It's not longer about seeing surprises behind every twist and turn. That's fun for a while, but after the first hour or so, you're lucky if a piece in one room of of seven catches your eye.

And then once you've been to the museum, you rarely go back – maybe every now and then to see a piece you really enjoyed. Or if there's a special exhibit on somewhere. Or if they've redone a wing, perhaps, or made new acquisitions. But it's rare that you go back. Oh sure some people love the museum, and when I had a free pass I used to go to kill time, because why not? It's neat, and it's not costing anything – but when they slapped on the fifteen dollar price tag, that was that for me. I'll probably go back every few years just to remind myself what it was all about. But that's it, unless I become rich and fifteen dollars for a wander through things I've already seen (or things that are so identical to things I've already seen, that I couldn't care enough to fictionalize why this pot is any different from the one I saw last year.) And if friends want to go with me, well then I'll head back and wander those same halls with them, because then it's a fun social thing and the pieces are more the backdrop for your socializing. And different views bring different appreciation. Your friend likes Egyptology, so that room is a highlight this trip, rather than a quick scan through. You even stop bringing your camera after long enough.

And this is travel to me now.

Don't get me wrong – still awesome. Think of how cool it would be to get locked in the museum, and what not. But, this is what travel is to me now.

The Shopaholic Book is Stupid (X- why is it stupid? Y - Because it's dumb. X - Why is it dumb? Y - Because it's stupid!

I do not like the shopaholic books, I do not like the shopaholic books, I do not like the shopaholic books!

But if that's true then, why I have just read the last one hundred pages without stopping? And why is the first break I've taken specific to write about how much I dislike the books? But, come on – lets be honest. No one reads these books and relates to the characters right? Thinks she's anything but insane? I mean I know there are a bunch and I'm just on the first – just going to read the first. I'm reading the first. You know, I'm travelling. You read what you can access when yo travel.

But then I didn't really leave with this book, and in fact I traded a book I'd not yet read for this book, so...

But I didn't want my first Sherlock Holmes books to be one of the modern texts, that would be oh so insulting to ACD. So I just couldn't read it and that was that.

But then there was this book, and so a trade was made, and there you have it. But I don't like it. At all. I might finish it tonight.

But now that I'm connected to the internets... Luckily there's nothing left to watch, and I have to sit on the floor to access a plug socket, and it hurts my back and blah blah blah ON WITH THE NEWS!

So I woke up today, and packed all my belongings, then realized I was exhausted. After such a busy, full, and active day yesterday I couldn't possibly be expected to remain alert. So i lied down on the couch and joined in the watching of Inglorious Basterds. This was actually quick wonderful. I mean such all of Qts films are essentially the same and terribly formulaic, but that doesn't stop them from being good. It just lets you know what's what.

But then that ended and it was time to leave. So leave I did, grabbing a tuk-tuk into town, and right to the door of my new hostel. My new hostel that was one third the price (3USD a night, rather than 9) and settled in. Just as I was unpacking I noticed I had no towel.

This was because my towel was hanging in my old hostel.

This was because I was an idiot.

Having lost one towel already, I was in no mood to lose another. And this one was still within reach. I would need to return the forty minute, maybe an hour, walk back to hostel the first. But not before dropping 1100B on a trekking trip for the next two days.

So back at the old hostel, I looked the fool, grabbed my towel, and started heading back. This would pass me by Pizza Hut. Ah, what the hey? Why not – yeah? So in I went, had a double pizza (a chicken supreme pizza on top of a pizza with chicken and spinach) and proceeded to feel sick with myself. As one rightly should after Pizza Hut. But I was no longer craving it. And it was not delicious. And it cost the same as staying in my hostel for the night I'm here. Still – had I not eaten it, it would have been the most delicious thing in all of creation. Plus, on my walk there, and sitting in the restaurant I finished my book. No more Heinlienian Incest for me – not until I read another Lazarus Long (or should I say Captain Jack Harkness?) tale.

Just as I was tossing one book aside, I saw staring at me, a Tom Clancy novel. All 900 pages of soft covered glory. I didn't really want to add to my pack – but, Tom Clancy. I'd never read any before this trip, and his grade three reading level makes for some interesting writing. And this one takes place in China – where I'll be going soon enough. So why not, right? I should be done my current book sooner than expected anyway.

It should be noted that I don't like the shopaholic book. Just one more time. So my protesting too much becomes beyond obvious, and rather quite tedious.

Well that's about it. No great tale, no tangent I want to bust in on. But that's probably because my U key is even more obnoxious than usual, sitting on the floor, and I really do want to get back to reading my book. Which I do not like.

Fight Night

I did nothing today. Absolutely nothing from the time I woke up, until 5:00pm. Aside from devour the free breakfast I just hung out in my room watching Torchwood. Many hours were killed this way. And at one point it went from being delightful watching it to driving me insane. And I wonder what I would have done had I not bought these earphones. Still – My day wasn't set to start until late afternoon, and I still spent a good seven hours out and about. As I mentioned yesterday, I had a fight to see.

I wandered down to the town, passing a mall that I'd not noticed earlier. Seems that they have a Sizzler and a Pizza Hut there. What fun! After looking at the pizza and considering going in to buy one, I finally pulled away. True I've been wanting a good North American style pizza for some time now, but is Pizza Hut – full of greasey greasey grease grease – the best way to get it? It is probably my only choice out here though, and as such I will succumb soon. But not just yet.

Leaving the mall behind me, I began to walk to town once more, just in time to see a couple drop their camera, lens first, onto the sidewalk. It was a crushing blow and made me cringe. They picked it up to assess damage. I had to look away. Onwards towards the city.

Once more I played real world Frogger, Once more I succeeded.

The moat that surrounded the city so elegantly yesterday was dry now. Who can say why? Maybe it's a weekend moat? Seems a little odd – but so many of the decisions that they must think of as rational here strike me as peculiar, so what's a little mud? Crossing over, I once more entered the city.

Dawdling I had managed to kill a good hour in this process. It was now 6:00. Hunger had been getting the best of me. Toast in the morning, and 7-11 in the afternoon does not make for a happy tummy, all be it full. I found a restaurant right in the North East corner of the town, pulled up a chair, and sat down. Menu was delivered, and after a few moments I had decided on Bamboo shoots, noodles, veggies, and pork. And a lemon smoothie.

The food was priced similar to that which I was eating in Cambodia. Except for the smoothie which was twice the price. But all was forgiven when said smoothie arrived, and it proved to be at least thrice the size. I ate, and I ate, and little by little the world became a happier, more colour place to live in. When the meal was finally done, I was no longer trapped in the mindset of one who had been watching television all day. I had been transformed, reborn, ready to embrace the world around me. And the world around me was good!

But more than anything, I just wanted to read. It was seven by this point, and I wandered the streets looking for a place to sit down. There was an internet cafe where 15B would secure me an air conditioned room to read in for an hour. True, I've paid more than that to use a toilet alone (free with price of entry here) but if I paid to use internet, I'd probably end up using it. And that wold defeat the purpose of going there to read. So I pressed on. And out of the east gate. I was guided by a glowing sight in the heavens above.

Two golden arches led me home. Yes, to McDonald's I went. They would have toilets, and places to sit, and be free of biting bugs. And I could even justify my time there by purchasing a cone for 7B. Now that's value and savings people. And also the exact amount of change I had jangling around in my pocket. So no real loss there.

From the balcony (ah yes, this McDonald's had a delightful balcony looking out towards the east gate.) I could see people working on cheerleader routines. The area in front of the east gate becomes a sort of public square. One section had the cheerleaders, another had kids shining up their friends scooters, while their friends were perched atop flirting. Down more kids were tricking with the bikes.

This one are of town seems so different from everything else I'd seen thus far. Almost as if a little piece of Tokyo had fallen through to this specific place.

And there I sat, and read – until the bugs got too bad, and I could no longer stand listening to Cline Dion play over and over again (a curse worse than that of pop music) - at which point i went inside and continued to read. At 8:40 I left, and headed for the boxing club.

Turns out my ticket was legit, and all was alright. So I headed to my fantastic seat, checked my name written on a slip of paper placed under the ashtray, and sat down.

I was reminded why I don't like fights. There ere eight in total. The first was with wee kids, the next was with older ones, three had decent fighters, four was a womens match, for five they blindfolded four guys threw them in, and let them go at it, six was by far the best with two guys of equal skill who knew what they were doing, seven was alright, and eight was an international match with two bigger guys.

Now, aside from fight six (after which half the crowd left) let me tell you why I hate fights. Either the fighters are no good, and it lasts the full five rounds in some sort of god awful bore fest, or the fighters are good, in which case the fight ends in round one or two. So you're either bored, or it's over right as it was getting good.

The blind match? Well that was kinda fun – but ridiculous. And while I do enjoy that I have now seen Sagat's Tiger Knee performed in person a few times (add that with Guile's Moon Kick which I've also seen in the real life and I'm on my way. Now where's the hundred hand slap when you need it?) I still found myself somewhat – yawn. The final match looked as if it could be worth while. The fighters were bigger, they gave it their all, and – it was over in 45 seconds. I don't know why it ended. One fighter was hit by a flurry, but stayed on his feet, looked like he was ready to go, but that was it. It was called. He was done.

And two hours were gone. In retrospect it will be a lot better, as I can focus on the little flurries of action between the posing, and waiting for an opening. I found that when I was recording the fight all I could focus on was the downtime, while when I wasn't those little moments mattered. There's probably a far more reaching message there – but I'll leave it as is.

It was something I am glad that I did. I might even go back again. But it wasn't that fantastic. As I said though, I don't really like fights. It probably has to do with video games. Like when you see a skateboarder do something impressive today, you don't really see it as such – because, you know, in Tony Hawk you could do that grind for twenty seconds, hit up a flip trick, go into a wall ride, and then vert (defying all physics.) Still – Sagat's Tiget Knee? Pretty sweet.



At some point the temperature dropped ten degrees, and a sound like fans called through the entire building. It took us all a few moments to realize what had happened – rain. And, of course, as it had not rained lately I did not have my jacket on me. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's packed at the bottom under all my things, back at the hostel. I could just feel the price of tuk-tuk rides going up.

As luck would have it, the rain was over by the time the fights finished. And as I went outside I was hounded by a group of drivers. I walked a few meters down the street before stopping to talk to any. Pointing out where I was, I asked how much. 100B he said. I was looking to pay 80, but was I really going to haggle over 20B at this point? No. It was late. Nearing Midnight, and while I was thinking of walking home, low hanging wires camouflaged in the night, and the threat of rain kept my thoughts more clear.

I did wonder why he started off with 100 when in was thrice the distance from where the guy quoted me 80 yesterday.

As we got underway I was quickly asked if I wanted marijuana. Oh good – maybe it's jail time again. I said no, definitely not, and hoped he would just keep on target towards my hostel. He did. As we neared the hostel he was quite surprised when I wasn't interested in any of his offered “pretty ladies” that were right around this area. He was even more shocked that I wasn't interested after he assured me that they “gave good boom boom.” No thank you sir. Just the hostel. You know what? Just here, here's your 100 and I'll be running away thank you very much.

And I did.

And then watched more Torchwood. I know – I know! It's an addiction.

At four in the morning I was woken up by an Australian girl on her hands and knees with her head shoved under my bed. It was weird. She normally resides on the bunk above me, but getting in absolutely trashed she had dropped something (so that's what hit my head, causing me first the stir.) She had dropped her back pack. On my head. It was now trapped under the bed. After trying for a minute or so, and drunkenly failing she gave up. And was soon snoring. Of course I was now wide awake. To the internets!

At some point I was sleeping again? I must have been. I definitely woke up and it was morning.

Wandering the Walled City

So out into the world again, is it? It's another day – one of those days where you say, self, you are going to sweat. And when you sweat it will be gross. And odds are you're gonna wear that same shirt tomorrow, because that's just how it works, so get used to it and try to make the best of it. And self said ok.

But, you know, that didn't happen until about two hours after I'd woken up. I got up, checked my email, and saw that some people were on skype. I was dragged into what turned out to be a two hour planning session. And it was really quite delightful. April – Japan – was planned out. Casting all of my work done months ago to get myself ready, aside. But this is alright. Just a few deposits here and there will be lost. And it was during this planning that you really marvel about the technology we have.

There are my friends, back in the Greater Toronto Area and I'm talking to them in Chaing Mai Thailand. The wonders of skype Video Chat are just beyond... And I've not used it so much as to think it normal, and just another part of technology. It still exists as magic to me. And that they an see me walk around, background changing, as I move to reconnect to the wifi signal is fantastic. I imagine a world where free wifi (have I mentioned lately that other people pronounce this as wee fee instead of Why Fie? It's weird...) blankets a city, and you can walk around showing off the entire area, from thousands of miles away. Honestly, how is that not magic? Its time will come soon.

So with April planned, and made marginally more expensive, but potentially cost saving as I'll now be using a JR Rail pass, I headed out for the day.

This had nothing to do with my netbook's battery finally running dry. Not at all.

So, with that done, I started my walk into town. People look at me as if I'm crazy for walking. The walk is one kilometer. I return the look.

I don't get all that far. I make it to the gates of my little ex-pat community, in which the hostel is situated: Located just out of town allowing you to see the real Chiang Mai that we love. Uh huh – if real Chiang Mai is all ex-pats, then sure.

I make it as far as the gates, and there a taxi driver offers to “give you a ride? Cheap.” I ask how much for this one kilometer driver. “Only 140,” he replies. Oh iis that all? For a ride that would come up to about 39 on the meter? No thank you sir. I'm willing to pay 20. He tells me to take the red bus. I have no idea how this red bus works. And there's no one to explain it. So I start to walk. It will show me the area, so why not, yeah? The walk is mostly shaded, and there's a two meter wide sidewalk. I've never felt so safe and secure moving around in Thailand. Still – the intersections are adventures by the minute. There are no walk signs here. There are no pedestrian crossings. There are eight lanes of traffic, constantly moving in a cluster flux that you must navigate. Two lanes are constantly turning never stopping, three one way stop while the three the other are given the signal to go.



It's like Oregon Trail. You almost feel like hiring a ferry to float you across (pay a tuk-tuk 10B or so to drive on through) but even still... accidents happen. So you run throgh the stream, wait for the three lanes to stop, stand in the middle of moving traffic, wait for the next three to stop, and then run through the final stream, before the cars start up again.

Perhaps you think I'm over selling this. I am not. I have seen locals engage in just the same activities which makes me feel better, and also terrifies me that this is a culture that thinks, “sure, this is fine. What's wrong here?” The best part? You need to cross this gauntlet before you can walk through the city gates. Right before, infact.

Awesome.

But, once inside, the world is yours. The cars have slowed, the mad tuk-tuks exist only on the outer right, and you should have no problem making your way around. And where will you head? The temples of course. This is Asia. There's always another temple, or a shrine, or a place of past and future worship. There always is.

And I just think, thankfully I went to Angkor Wat before here. Yeah - Angkor Wat was more impressive, but these temples are pretty spectacular in their own right. More impressive, taller, different, than the ones in Bangkok. Had I seen these first, Angkor Wat would have been amazing still, but – maybe a little less so?

I don't know why people bill Chiang Mai as the anti-Bangkok. A more authentic Thai Experience, you're constantly told. It is not.

Bangkok may be a city full of tourists, but Chiang Mai is a city built for tourists. That's all it is. Every restaurant advertises their “American Dishes” and many sell them for 600B a meal. That's about 20USD. Sure that seems normal for us. You could probably eat a month for that as a local. The temples are flooded with beaded white guys (look, I know – but these are the short cropped Riker beards that say “I am sophisticated, or a hippy not willing to fully invest”) with their baggy clothes, and their girlfriends with dreadlocks, and all sorts of other nonsense. No – ok maybe they understand the religion and aren't just holding incense because they were pushed upon them by woman who then guilted them into “donating to her.” But this is what you see –

and as #71 on the terrible racist website Stuff White People Like (http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/02/20/71-being-the-only-white-person-around/) we do so hate our cultural experiences being trampled upon by others who may so look like us. (indeed it is a racist, and I still can't believe the book is sold in the humour section at Chapters – Canada's evil near-monopolizing bookstore, that I love so much, for some reason. Don't get me wrong – the website is pretty genius, and it's bloody funny. But that's the internet. You take that and throw it off the internet, and try to justify it by putting it in the humour section? I don't know. Not worth it I guess. So many words wasted already. Still – full marks for accuracy!

So there you are wandering temples, feeling just as much a part of real Thailand as if you were on Koh Samui getting drunk and burning yourself on flaming skipping ropes. But hey, there's some neat stuff here. So you look around, you take your pictures, and you find yourself amazed by what you see. Still – this is about as authentic as Brugge, and Tallinn. Quite similar in many respects too. Each of those sums up what you'd expect to see in Europe, Eastern Europe, and South East Asia. But none are real. People lock up their shops at night, leave the city, and go to their real homes in their real communities. But we rarely look that far, do we? Who has the time.

After the temples, I wandered my way through the streets, and coming across a boxing stadium. Apparently there'd by a match tomorrow. 400B. How could I refuse? People keep saying that you can't go to Thailand without seeing a fight. Mind you, they also say you can't go without riding an elephant, so it's all really up in the air, isn't it?

Anyway, I bought my seemingly legit ticket, and then found a place to go sit myself down by at the three kings monument. It's strange watching people pass by here. They stop, they bow, they pray. It represents those that created the city. But people bow to it, palms pressed together. Imagine that. Imagine if every time you walked past city hall, you really thought back and appreciated the formation of your town. I don't know if that's what's happening here – but something certainly is. You need only watch a few moments to see it play out.

When I see my city hall it just makes me watch to watch Resident Evil 2 again, so I can see it blown to bits at the end.

But that's me. North American cultured. Kaboom.

It may also sadden some of you to know that I did not blow up a cow with a rocket launcher, nor shoot a rocket launcher, nor any high powered weapon. Yes I had the chance. In a few countries. But – paying equal to a months wage for ten seconds of depressed trigger – it just seemed wrong some how. I would pay that much to do it in Europe, but not here. I don't know where the money is going, and that leaves me feeling somewhat under informed. Too much so when dealing with weapons.

Eventually I left the city, walking back to my hostel. When I'd less than a kilometer to go, I asked a tuk-tuk driver how much a return trip would cost. I was told 80B. I laughed, saying no no too much. Stone faced, as if he'd offered me the deal of my life he repeated the number. I offered forty. He walked away.

For the first time I was honestly offended. Offended that we would even suggest such a price, and offended that he would not budge. If anything points out how touristy this place is it's that in late January there are still enough tourists for a tuk-tuk driver to turn down a fare, knowing someone will be along to pay the high priced one. It should also be noted that he could have dropped me off and been back to his spot within about three minutes. It was a straight shot, no lights, no traffic. The ride would have started at 50B and been negotiated down to about 25 in Bangkok. He was that sure that someone would be by within a few minutes that he could afford to not even try to negotiate with me. Chiang Mai? It's nice. But if someone tells you it's authentic – just remember this.

Back at the hostel I set to devouring more media. It is my mission to complete Torchwood before I leave this city.

Hey, I have time. I have two more nights in this hostel, and then five more in one across town. This is a three night city. Four tops. There's trekking and that's a good reason to come here – but like I said, I have many more nights to fill. Can't rush it all at once. Just give yourself one mission a day.

Tomorrow it will be the fight. If my ticket is legit. It must be – there's a stamp on it.

And I wrote my name on a slip of paper, placed under a cigarette tray!

Off to Chaing Mai

O.K. O.K. Wake up, pack up, grab a taxi to the airport. Who needs the bus, I say? Sure a few people refused to pick me up because they didn't want to drive out to the airport on the meter (they could more easily scam tourists this way) but eventually someone let me in.

We jumped on the highway – 70B toll extra – and zipped along at 130 kilometers an hour passing everyone we came across. Sure it cost a bit more than last time, but the ride was twenty minutes instead of nearly an hour. So – you know – it's all good.

At the airport, I checked in, and discovered the Thai lounge was for business and first class only. Sigh. But that was fine, with head phones, I could plug into the wall and watch some more Spider-Man. You know, now that I can consume media again, I wonder if I'll ever catch up on my reading? And I quite like my book too.

Up in the air things happened fast. These intercontinental flights in relatively small countries are somewhat silly. Just as you reach your cruising elevation and have a little box of food on your tray table in front of you the message is played to return your tray table to its locked position, as you're beginning to descend.

On the ground I watched as the bags were thrown from the trolley to the baggage belt, and wondered, wouldn't this be more efficient if he just left the trolley and let us grab our packs? Probably not. But mine was right on top of a pile that he kept avoiding, so it was frustrating. I used this time to grab my taxi chit, and then watched as everyone was offered a free sim card – with, it can be assumed, terrible rates that tourists wouldn't know were terrible. Everyone but me. No sim card this way. Do I either look a.) like someone who would see through the silliness, or b.) someone who can't afford a phone, when even the ultra poor in 'middle of nowhere' Africa had them? ...they probably had to have them, there being no land lines, but still.

Back to the tourist airport scam things. You could pay 3000B for a one hour massage at the spa, the taxi would take you right there. I cringed at this. How many people fell for this? They had a full menu of options, not just for the body massage. All the prices, though, were just as silly. When I finally got taxied into town I checked to see if my assumption was correct, and yes indeed. All the prices were exactly ten times higher than you would be charged anywhere else. Ten times. Ten! Ai ya.

So I got to my hostel easy enough – delightful 120B airport bus. And then once there I tried to check in. Of course they said I hadn't made a booking. I said I had. they checked their files – oh, I had. But they checked their book – nope I wasn't there. Eventually it was decided that I was Michelle and that I could stay. This was just one of the many fun organizational issues you can see here at this hostel. Lovely hostel – but... organizationally? It's not so hot. I've heard a few people pay 300B deposit for keys, but as deposit is only 200B that's all they get back when they leave. And many times people have come into this room to find their beds already taken. There are other rooms, so all is well – but...

Still, there's two tvs, hundreds of DVDs, three guitars (which is how I amused myself until I was named Michelle), and a drink store where you just put your name on a list and check off what you drink. In theory you could steal them, but the honour system works well. I wonder when I'm supposed to pay?

Anyway, I wandered the streets as the sun was setting. I wanted to head to town. I've been told I should just take a taxi but I don't know how. There are taxis that cost too much, tuk-tuks, which are, you know, tuk-tuks. And then there are these red buses. They're probably the thing to use, but I have no idea how.

So I wandered the road to town, checked out the 7-11s (just as many here, of course), and then I checked out all number of other things. Like restaurants made for tourists, and priced to match. Just as I was nearing town I thought I should ask a local where I was to confirm I wasn't all screwed up. She told me I was somewhere way far away from where I thought I should be. I knew she was wrong. Well I thought I knew. Well – she was wrong. But not before making me think, as it was getting dark, that I should probably just leave exploring until tomorrow, lest I really did wander into the middle of nowhere.

So that was that, I headed back to my hostel, and crashed in for the night. I started to watch some movies with the other folks, but my goodness are there a lot of mosquitoes here. I couldn't deal with them. Too much slapping and scratching. So I wandered into my dorm, shut the door, cranked on the aircon, and set to catching up on How I Met Your Mother and Big Bang Theory.

These headphones... a blessing or a curse? Time will tell. But I am entertained none the less.