Off to Peru... kinda

Having showered the night before, I woke up ready to head to the airport; I woke up at five in the morning.

Some damn fool had set the air conditioning to the coldest setting hoping that that would ensure a better night's sleep. Some damn fool. Me. For the next three hours I would wake up, consider getting out of bed and turning it down, realizing that would mean taking the ladder from my bunk, and potentially falling to my doom, grabbing another towel, and throwing it on me. Each new towel would add to the warmth for about an hour before my body adapted, and I became cold once more. There were enough towels to last until my alarm went off.

Making my way downstairs, I checked out, grabbed an anti-malarial breakfast at 7-11, and boarded a taxi. I snagged a taxi on my first try, “Airport, metered, no tolls.” There was no bartering, there was no complaining, there was just a friendly, “hop on in,” in the most perfect English I'd yet heard. I was a little bit terrified by this, but it was early, and I'd just exited a freezer, stepping into a sauna, and wanted something in between. Something that the blasting aircon in this taxi seemed to offer.

And it was lovely.

The driver was from Laos. Now, I should point out that for the last few weeks I've had people telling me, “it's not L-au-s, it's pronounced L-au.” Just for the record, he pronounced the name of his home country “L-au-s.” So who is propagating this alternate pronunciation? It's shall remain a mystery.

Getting to the airport was smooth as silk; clearing passport control was just as lovely. The only real snag was getting my ticket. I became that person you hate to wait behind. The one that turns a quick, here's my passport, give me my ticket please, exchange into something terrible long winded. Secret phone calls were made as I waited.

It turned out that I didn't have a ticket booked out of Peru home. I explained that I had a ticket booked later for Argentina. This did not seem to suffice. I pointed out that I had one for Los Angeles. This was more acceptable it seemed. Minutes ticked away as numbers, and letters were punched into computers, and I was left waiting. When she spoke once more, she asked me for my Argentina details. Apparently this was acceptable now. She then asked me for the airport code to punch into her computational machine. I told her EZE. I think that's right. I'm pretty sure. But, again, if this information is important, why trust the person giving it? And once again, if you need to use airport codes on a regular basis, why doesn't your computer have a database? Seriously people, this is not 1983. Mind you, even then such a database could have been created and used. Maybe it was, computers being all new and business like back then.

But fear not, for I got my ticket to Frankfurt, and even my connecting flight to Sao Palo Brazil. But not for my flight from Brazil to Lima. Apparently I would need to get that there. I fear delays. I was also told that my luggage was checked all the way through; probably. This was not filling me with confidence. No confidence was I filled with. But what could I do? I grabbed what I was given, smiled, and carried on.

It was time to spend my final few baht. Had I planned better I could have got a Burger King burger, and a Dairy Queen sunday. As it stood, I was two baht short, ending up with double the ice cream instead. It didn't matter. The plane would feed me.

Shortly I was on board the plane, leaving South East Asia behind me. And I was fed. And given multiple opportunities to drink alcohol. The elderly couple beside me took each and every opportunity, of which I was awake for 6 during the course of the flight, but as each time my eyes opened their glasses seemed full again, there were clearly more.

I grabbed a beer on the first two passes. These would be enough to knock me out, ensuring that I obtained some sleep on these terrible flights. The schedule was not ideal. I flew out of Bangkok at 1:30pm, would arrive in Frankfurt thirteen hours later, but time zones would make that only 7pm, it would be 10pm when I flew out, and 12 hours later I would arrive in Brazil at some other god awful hour, before trying to get to Lima (provided my connecting flight ticket can be obtained.) Not ideal. And at no point do I want to be drowsy. I'd like to stay alert – stay safe.

On the plane the first thing I noticed was no in seat video player. Great. Well, I expected this which is why i was prepared with many many books. Well, just two books, but they combined into over fifteen hundred pages of reading.

I'm still readying Red Rabbit. I hate Tom Clancy. I do. His writing is terrible, and grade two reading level, and as my mind picks up whatever narrative style I'm currently reading, I'm thinking in god awful, underdeveloped, third person thoughts. I dreamed in Tom Clancy thoughts. It hurts. But there's something that keeps me pressing on. Perhaps the ease of the reading, or the desire to just get to the end and say – there, that's it, no more. Read on I do.

Hundreds of pages flipped by, pushing me just past the half way mark. This will never end.

After meal number two I set myself to sleep again. When I woke up we were descending out of the sky, hurtling towards the ground. Somewhat terrifying when you just wake up. I struggled to put my seat belt on, and clipped it just in time to touch down. Most airlines I have flown would have woken me up and admonished me for not having had my belt attached. But not this one. What a way to wake up that would have been, Ka-Chunk.

Frankfurt airport was a treat. In a haze I walked the maze of terminals, and passed through security checks, and made small talk about Maple Leafs, and then found some tile to sit on and type. Sitting now at gate C14 I can only hope this is the right place. There are other people here which is good, but the display monitors are all off. There's also high pitched beeping that is driving me slightly crazy. I do not function well without sleep these days – which strikes me as odd, as for years I've not required it all that much. I think it's the heat. That's what it must be. Once back in my own climate, I'll revert to my normal self, yes?

Oh – and there's snow here! Real honest to god white stuff. Not The White Stuff, because that's just a die from Killer Bunnies, but white stuff nonetheless. I'm excited. I can see it through the window. People wear jackets here.

Won't that beeping stop?!

I'm pulled back to the final moments on board my flight. The lights of Frankfurt reach out below me, and it strikes me that some people are going home. Home to warm houses, and fires, and coco. Hot wine, friends, and family. The lights reach out welcoming and beckoning. On a night like this when I see snow for the first time, I wonder what home must be like; I wonder where home is.

The tile is cold beneath me at gate C14 where I sit waiting for a message to call me forth, push me onwards. So few things can mean so much to so many.

On board my next flight the woman beside me begins to chat. A twelve hour flight. This could be a death sentence. I want to read. I want to – well I can't watch movies, because once again there are no entertainment units built into these planes. It's like the late nineties. Crazy. I want me touch screen on demand movies.

But I talk to the lady beside me, who turns out to be quite delightful, as they most always are. At some point though, after dinner, I slowly fade into sleep. With all the time zones I'm crossing night and day become mere illusions. I have no idea how long I've been awake, nor how long I will sleep.

Floating Markets and River Bridges

Early in the morning I wake up. My tour driver is supposed to grab me at seven fifteen. I assume that getting downstairs by seven will give me time to grab some food before I head off. I assume wrong.

My driver has been waiting, I am told. Perhaps I should have not been informed to be ready for seven fifteen then. In another world I would not have come down until then. Then poor poor people waiting in the van.

We make our way to the floating market. I sleep. When we arrive we are told that for a mere 150B we can take a boat through the market. This only slightly enrages me, as I've paid 1450B for this tour. The two day elephant, rafting, hiking tour with four meals was only 1100B. I am not one for surprise charges, especially when I've spent my last baht, except that which will take me to the airport tomorrow, on this tour already.

I do not float on the market, though we do take a motor boat there, and isn't that something. I walk the edges, and over the bridges, and take pictures, and experience if from the observational post. And that's alright. I can't help but think, “what's the point of all this?” Yes, it's interesting, it's on water, but it's just another market. There's nothing overly special about it. There's no real reason for it to float (other than people can bring their wares in by boat) and it's not an incredibly ancient tradition – only being started in the twentieth century. Perhaps had I visited this location earlier on in my Thailand experience it would have been different – but now? All I can think is, “it's just another market.” I've seen day markets, night markets, weekend markets, sunday markets... They're all the same, they all sell the same stuff, none of it has any charm other than what is obvious. There's little point to experience them all. But then again, there's little reason to come to Thailand if you don't want to shop.

Still – it's interesting. There are boats. Full of tourists. Yay.

Next our tour stops at an Elephant show area. For 600B you can ride an elephant for ten minutes. Really? That's what we're here for? This was not even listed on my program. I have a suspicion that our leader cut our time at the market short to bring us here in hopes of gaining commission. Once more, I'm not a fan of hidden things, or charges, especially when a tour is three times the price it ought to be in the first place.

Next we head to a snake show. Same deal. At both of these locations I find a place to sit and read my book. Kill time.

When we are about to leave the snake show I am told that as I will be headed to the River Kwai I will need to change vans. I meet my new driver, and hop on board with a new group of people. Off we go, two more hours of driving, stopping once for lunch. Which is pretty good. So yay.

When we get to the river, I can hardly wait to burst out of the doors and walk around. This is, at last, something worth seeing – something worth experiencing.

Finally I can walk around and explore and see something for myself. And it is good. I walk over the River Kwai, and try to imagine the history that happened here. I stepped out of the way when the train needed to cross. I experienced the small crossing on which so much laid. And then I went to the war museum. Which was silly. And small. And tiny. You can skip it.

Oh and did I mention there was a cheetah just hanging out on the side of the road? Not terrifying at all. A pet, I'm sure.

On the way back we were jockied into another truck again, and we headed back to Bangkok. This new van took us most of the way, before three of us were tossed into yet another van which took thirty minutes to drive what would have taken me a good ten minutes to walk, reminding me of the old joke, “nobody drivers here – there's too much traffic.”

Still – aside from the heinous beginnings, not an altogether bad last day.

Video Games and Travel

Waking up, hanging out in the common room, watching some television. Yeah. It's pretty sweet.

Whenever my kiwi friend decided to wake up (nothing like the morning after you fly across a terrible amount of time zones to really make you want to seize the day) we headed out to the MBK centre. Yes, yes, more malls. Strange how the price jumps for tuk-tuk drivers when you're with someone else. There's nothing like turning down one driver, watching them leave, having another immediately fill the place to begin negotiations anew. After a good four drivers tried their luck, we finally decided on one – or rather, he decided on us.

And then off through the smog of the city, dangerously fast through perilous turns and – traffic jam. Perhaps it wasn't that I was with someone else that caused the price to raise as much as it was the time of day. Ohh well. My ignorance to such things seems to have gone swimmingly, as I did not have to feel any guilt over the rather delayed progress we were making.

This also explained why one driver laughed and drove off when we told him our destination.

But fear not, for we completed this journey, and then entered the aforementioned mall on a quest to find a store that I had seen weeks past. I just knew it was on the third floor. After walking the third floor, I was less sure about my previous assurance. But it must have been on the fourth floor! Well, there were a lot of cell phones there. That's almost like finding what I want, but not really at all. That would leave only the second – ok, you know where this is going, I'm sure. The store was nowhere to be found. But wait, I knew of another place on the first floor where my desired item cold be found. It just required a lap or two.

I have never been this lost in a mall before. Quite refreshing, quite refreshing indeed. Or perhaps those were the free samples of fruit that had been left out all day? No it wouldn't have been those – as they were left out all day. A shame that resisting the allure of a free selection of produce is not easier.

With purchase made, and success grasped, we headed out to complete one of her missions – obtaining flight tickets. Apparently you can't book a flight over the internet for next day departure. Who knew? I find this rather distressing, as I'd been considering such things not long ago.

After some searching of the neighbouring malls, and finding nothing, an information booth was approached. We were sent two blocks down, some doors over, and all that fun stuff to discover a travel agent. Who fond tickets cheaper than the internet listed them as. I just want to point out that I was shocked by this – shocked. I had thought that the internet could always beat in store purchases. Apparently not. I'll have to keep this in mind for future flights.

Right as she was to pay, oh no, thirty dollar credit card service fee. So off to a bank machine. This was right next door. While she wandered, I perused information about Universal Studios: Japan. They have a Jurrasic Park ride too! My worries are behind me now; if the park in LA is still refurbishing theirs, I can always discover my beloved animation dinosaurs (pronounced in the same voice Mr. DNA would use) across the sea.

There was a problem with funds being in the wrong place, or some such nonsense. Flight tickets were not yet to be purchased. First an internet cafe would be required for money shifting, and other such electronic magics.

This was fine, as the cafe was next to an iStudio store. I went in and found myself the iPod touch. Once more I was close to buying it (stopped, really, only by the fact that I think 64gigs is too small, and am holding out that a 150 will be released before I get back. Or perhaps some new toy will reach the market within a half year.) This did give me some time to play all the iPhone games I'd seen on co-op though. And they were lovely. And I think I might have become slightly obsessed with the game TapTap. I see that this has been made free as well. Think of all the tap taping I could be doing on my travels.

But then again, that's the thought that stops me. I don't want to play games while I'm on the ro... ohh – money transfered! Back to the travel agent, tickets bought, over to a tuk-tuk only two tried and one confusing conversation about how we forgot where we were staying, despite the fact that I was giving the precise location and name of where we were staying, later and it was off to the races.

The terrifying, terrifying races.

A final look at the giant swing (of death – seriously, read up on it. No bags of silver in my teeth.)

The night was spent once more on KSR (significantly more entertaining when you're not alone.) For the first time I was approached to see a ping pong show. I imagine this happened as a girl was with me. It's always the girls who want to go. No more than two hours ago a girl convinced three guys to join her at one this eve. She knew where it was and everything. The boys? Clueless. As it should be. I refused, getting back on topic, and carried on.

Food, fun, and thumb pianos were experienced. And then back to the hostel.

As we headed off to our separate rooms (she preferring solo-dorms where snoring is not an issue) and mine to the dorm where – up until now, snoring has not been an issue.) good byes were said and potential New Zealand plans were made.

Only one thing makes me hesitant. I had to explain to her what The Sims was. I once met a girl in University who had no idea what the holocaust was. I had to explain it to her, and convince her that it wasn't one of those shiny three dimensional picture things (obtained most often from Upper Deck '91 trading cards) and was instead something far more terrible, and much less collectible. But this I could understand. Somehow it seems far more terrifying and unlikely that someone could have lived their life, and avoided all knowledge of The Sims (one, two, and three... not to mention all the hand held spin offs.) Really now – New Zealand - really.

Back to Bangkok

Here I sit in Chiang Mai Airport. I just read through a “Tokyo Top 25” book that I picked up at a hostel. April 1st doesn't seem all that far away right now. And yet, when I think about all the things I'll see before I get there...

I was reading the Tokyo travel guide (which I'll probably toss away at the next hostel I get to – as I don't really need to be amassing anything) because I'm quite bored by this Red Rabbit book. It's about the plot to kill the Pope. And sure it has Jack “Rainbow Six” Ryan in it, but that's not enough. I find myself dreadfully bored. Now, to be honest, I'm only fifty pages in, which isn't much for a 900 page text, but that's the problem. I don't really want to read nine hundred pages of terrible.

In the night market last night I saw Jurassic Park but it was selling for 99B. I wasn't willing to spend that much on a novel. Looking back though, I could have been reading something I would have enjoyed, rather than dreading to open my text. This is something I've not felt thus far on my travels. I think I'll switch it away at the Bangkok hostel too. Or just drop it there and start reading another one of my novels from my pack. This was a random grab anyway.

Of course, months from now when I'm out of books to read, I'll look back on this moment and wish that I just kept one more, one more.

Well, I'll give it a try and then we shall see.

Waking up at The Little Bird Guesthouse, I killed some time before heading out to grab my final breakfast. Spring Roll lady had no spring rolls, once more. And it was tragic. So rather than enjoying a delicious last meal, I had to fall back on 7-11 which I now view without the love I once held for it. I know that there are so many more flavours to experience than the bland pre-packaged food sold there. But it is all out of my reach.

Still – I ate my cake and meat bread, downed a malarial pill, and finished up my water. Then it was off to check out, find a tuk-tuk, get to the airport, and wait wait wait. Red Rabbit – well, I might as well give it another shot.

It turns out that I just watched a lot more of co-op, check them out at www.area5.tv But, once on the plane I started to read my book. Until I fell asleep – woken by the terrible flight food that only Thai Airways offers. Seriously, I normally like airplane food, but this place gives you sandwiches with a vegetable spread. The same spread I threw out back in Scandinavia. And if I was willing to throw a whole tub of it out, when money was short, well – what does that say about the quality of it? Yet here it is again.

Once I landed down in BKK I realized that I have probably spent an entire waking day in this place over the last month. I went to grab my bus ticket to the city, and then began to wait and wait and wait. All in all, waiting for the express bus, and riding the EXPRESS bus from the airport to the city took three times as long as flying from Chiang Mai to Bangkok did. Ai ya.

Things started to settle once I'd checked in, and got myself in order. It was time to get some food. The street stands offered me an array of treats, all conveniently on sticks, and cooked over fire. And while they made a good appetizer, I headed out for the prize – a Big Mac. They're never good. But they always are in your mind after a few months without. It is because of this inner turmoil over the relative deliciousness of such a sandwich that I pressed on towards the golden arches. Through my math skills, and realization that fries were half price right now, I discovered that it was cheaper to buy the combo in parts than as a set. Ordering a drink, fries, and the Big Mac confused the poor girl, but finally I convinced her to punch it in separately (the combo price was not reduced as part of this french fry promotion) and all worked out in my favour.

The Big Mac was undelicious.

It's strange. You know, in theory, that McDonald's sells hamburgers, but when you think of a burger would your mind ever go to those little biscuits? They're hamburger-like, granted, but hamburgers they are not. They just can not be. They're so awkward, and without substance, and... Harvey's I could admit as being a burger. But – well, if it's microwaved?

After succeeding in this doomed to fail quest I headed back to the hostel, popped open the internet and -

“Mike!”

A kiwi-girl that I'd met back in Belgium was here at this very hostel. There may have been some pre-planning, and so it was perhaps not quite random, but it was delightful none the less. To be in a familiar area, with a familiar face.

We talked about travel and where we'd set off to since parting months back. It was the first time I really relived my whole trip. And perhaps the last? There's something about saying, “and then I did this, and then I did this,” that makes you feel like a jerk. Every other place I mentioned though, she was able to talk about from her perspective. It was a conversation with give and take, rather than a one-sided listing of events. And that, as Robert Frost, might have put it were he one to comment on such things, made all the difference.

She'd just woken up from four hours of crashing after her flight and was ready for some food. Having just eaten I – well I went out for more. Thailand.

We headed to Khao San Road, and grabbed 20B pad-thai. You can't beat that value, or the flavour. I'm really starting to worry about how things will taste when I get back home. Perhaps just not as good. And what will I do then? Be destined to eat sub-par food for the rest of my life? Learn how to cook? Travel back here every few months to refresh the flavours? Options may present themselves. Still – I hold out that Combo C will retain its deliciousness. It must.

Wandering the streets she stopped once to buy a fake ID. A fake student card, reversing her age by ten years, making her under the 26 year old cut off for most travel discounts. The fake IDs they make here? Flawless. I thought about obtaining one that declared me a member of the Canadian Government. But thought against it. It's interesting that all my students work to get fake IDs that make them older. And here travellers are grabbing ones to make them younger.

Back at the hostel we internetted, traded youtube favourites, and crashed into the night. Then, as always, it was time to sleep. Perhaps the mall tomorrow? Ohh... the mall! (I'm not sure if that's sarcasm or not anymore...)

Post 199 Live Blogging Extravaganza

Fantastic! I just crashed and had this whole post wiped. I mean sure it was just in the starting phase, but it was ridiculous enough that I quite miss it being gone. Now I'll have to start all over!

So here we are at post 199. I don't really know how I've decided that's what number it is, through my system of some posts counting during this trip, and others not so much, but there you have it. This is number one ninety nine and there's no way around it. And so because of that I'm bringing you this very special, very fantastice live blogged extravaganza!

I'm going to save right now in case we crash again. You may ask why did I crash, and I will tell you – because this netbook is a little piece of... look it does the job normally. But this time I was trying to download episodes of co-op, unfortunately I let them load too far before trying to save them, and everything went to hell.

But that's that. It's time to start the live blogging as I see fit. I should note that today I also created Excalibur in Facebook's Castle Age. I can't believe how long ago I started playing that. Back in Oslo. Remember Oslo? Of course you do.

Once Cid Meyer creates his Civilization for Facebook we'll all be doomed. And that Farmville game will no longer be the dominant strangle hold.

Well – here we go.

12:33 – just recovered from crash, rewrote the intro, and started to download the two epsiodes that led to said earlier crash. Starting to watch Co-Op season 2 episode 1 (201) sweet.

12:34 - remembered what I wrote the last post about. I wrote about how this morning I headed out for breakfast with the girl who sleeps in the bed opposite mine, and grabbed the best pad-thai ever, covered in sugar and spice and everything delightful. Also bought some spring rolls for 10b each from the spring roll lady. And then grabbed some beverages at the 7-11 on the way back. Discovered a sweet short cut too that led me to 10b pineapple.

Alright. Here we go.

13:35 - I tell you, I really do miss video games. There are apparently some really good ones that have come out lately too. But the real question - 360 or ps3? And then the iPhone has some lovely treats too.

In other news, I'm starting to jones for those spring rolls down the street.

14:07 - you know, the more I watch about games, the more I am completely sure that getting the Wii for my spec. ed. class two years back was a key idea. And the more subtle rage I feel at quasi-nemesis that argue something not based on what it is, but whose idea it is. You know the people - the ones the react one way if one person says it (as if it's stupid and terrible) and another way if it's someone else who says it (as if it's a great and wonderful idea.) Those people? No time. I hope the Wii is still getting used these day. And as for quasi-and full nemesises? (the ones thinking right now, "the word is nemeses") Meh, they'll do what they do.

14:24 - need for spring rolls too high. must escape hostel and devour

14:43 - spring roll lady saw me coming. She held up two fingers. Only two were ready - and I was set to buy five. Her deep fried chicken was piling up. I wanted to tell her that if one item sold out, and the other piled up, maybe she should change her strategy, but words failed me. I went to 7-11 to buy more beverages. But apparently my beverage of choice right now can not legally be sold until 17:00. What's up with that?! Apparently you can buy as much as you want before 11:00 but after that, it's heathenism to buy before 17:00. So I bought some from the hostel fridge. Success was mine. I'm watching you clock. And when will Spring Roll lady have stocked up agian?!

16:20 - Spring Roll lady had no spring rolls! No! I will have to check back at the convenient 17:00s. I can't believe she's making more chicken for her chicken pile - but no spring rolls. On the plus side, I bought giant chunks of pineapple for 10b. So that's good too!

17:20 - Spring Roll lady has provided! Yes I may have had to be woken up through the window by opposite bed girl, but that is neither here nor there. And as that napping has told me I need no more beverages, I was free to allocate those resources to sweet sweet spring rolls! She had a mountain of them! A mountain!

I said - six please, and though she sells four things, she knew what I wanted. She had seen me sulking earlier. And I got a bag of sauce. I don't know what's in this sauce but it's very magical! And now all is right in the world. I've sent two others off on a quest to obtain said deliciousness!

17:38 - off to see the weekend market with opposite bed girl (whose name happens to be Bex and who lives about 25 minutes, on foot, from where I lived in Toronto.) and another girl.

20:21 - So... much... stuff... girls do love their clothing shopping, don't they? I just felt sick over all the food I saw. Too many spring rolls. I did have a popsicle though (3 baht) fantastic! Just what I wanted - combining so many flavours and textures and wonders. So I stand behind that.

21:48 - Bex has discovered the laundry stole her shirt. This does not make for a happy her. I continue to watch co-op on the interwebs and learn about games. Also, I will continue to drink much delicious water.

23:25 - Games I'll need to buy and play when I get back:
Batman: Arkham Asylum
Fallout 3: GotY
Oblivion: GotY
Bioshock
Final Fantasy XIII
Halo 3
Halo: ODST

and it's not like there aren't more... A good baseball game, the modern warfare games, and the big chunk that come out in the next six months. Ugh.

Parks, Video Games and Shot Glasses

I'm not going to hide anything. I did a lot of nothing today. Welcome to Thailand. I'm beginning to be okay with that.

I started off by wandering the city perimeter for three hours. This walk would justify the rest of my wasted excuse for travel. I headed to the south west corner along the base and height of the triangle, rather than shaving ohh a fair percentage by walking the hypotenuse. But the hypotenuse was not direct, and probably would have led me to all sorts of terrible places. Plus I'd yet to see the South Gate. I didn't expect anything from it – but I wanted to see it, just to say that I had, should it have turned out to be as wonderous as the East Gate was.

It was not.

But the park hidden away down there was quite great. Lots of rivers, and bridges, and flowers, and places to sit, and shade to enjoy, and tra la la la la.

It as a great place to while away the day. But I could last only so long under the heat. I keep telling myself it's winter and that this is as good as it will ever get – but my goodness, that doesn't make it not hot now.

I wandered back, grabbed some food, another fantastic lemon shake, and then tucked into my hostel to watch hours of video game news. Yes, I was catching up on all the episodes of co-op. Theme song by Jane Pinckard. Sigh.

I managed to devour all of season one and catch up with the video games from six months ago. If you can't play them, you can at least watch media about them. And I quite enjoyed it. And I will have you know that I did spend three hours exploring, so back off! 'kay?

When the night hit I went through the East Gate and headed straight on to the night market to see what they had to sell there. Lots of t-shirts, fake bags, and little trinkets. But did they have any shot glasses? Just one, perhaps? No. What type of country doesn't sell shot glasses. It's a standard. A go to. But no, there were none here.

So despite the enjoyment of the bright lights, and the big city – there was nothing there for me.

Starting to head back home, I stopped in the middle of the street when I saw hundreds of little explosions in front of me. A man was throwing fireworks blowing up like flash bangs juggled by some sort of twisted mini-boss. And behind him a parade of people started to scream and cheer.

Something was amiss.

I followed this entourage, as they screamed and whooped their way along the road into a gate, towards a wat. Some people had trees loaded with money, others had chairs held high above their heads. Monks dressed all in orange ran around with the most expensive digital cameras you'd ever seen, while a camera man sent a live feed to a big screen t.v. affixed to the front of the temple.



If I had to guess, I would say that I just crashed a wedding. There was traditional dancing, and excitement, and many many drunken elderly people. Yes, this could only be a wedding.

You see, that was some more cultural experience for the day. It's like I say – life happens outside. All you need to do is head out, and the world will surprise you. It always does. You may go out looking to kill time, and see nothing but perhaps a shot glass for sale (or not) and then come across something like this – something you'll most likely never see again in your life.

Travel. Neat.

Trekking: Day Two

At six in the morning I wake up to the sounds of people walking along the bamboo beside my head. I had chosen a bed right next to the door for just this reason. I wanted to make sure that I would wake up whenever the earliest others started to stir. I would not miss the sun rise over the mountain.

And I did not. My plan? A great success. The three French girls were all standing on the porch when I dragged myself out. The sky was glowing orange, and the mists in the valleys created depth perception through the receding gradients of hills. The morning was beautiful, as the sun pulled into the sky, casting warm light on the people, places, and piggies running around. Off towards the fire from last night's celebration little pops could be heard starting up once more. No doubt another little child is trying to blow off a few fingers.

The drums start up again.

They must have stopped. I know they must have – but two hours earlier they were going strong. Did they take a forty five minute nap to recuperate? Enough of this. With the sun high in the sky, I went back to sleep.

The next time I heard a stampede of feet it was my call for breakfast. Which was lovely and delicious. Then... time to head back down the hill. If it took three hours coming up, well it wasn't going to take that much less heading down.

The steps were not carved nearly as well as they should have been, and the sound of slipping feet behind me was terrifying. I would not fall on my own, but being bowled over by someone behind me? That was not the best way to start a day.

An hour into the walk we ended up at another waterfall. And as much as I wanted to jump into it and splash around, I had learned from yesterday. The next hour and a half of hiking would not be a great delight after soaking in the freezing water. So with a sigh I stayed on the rocks looking at the water cascading down the cliff face.

More jungle, the likes of which I'd never seen before – but quickly accepted as a normal part of the scenery (easy adaption being something that I think really detracts from my travel experience, as nothing stays “magical” for long.)

And then we were at the bottom, and at the river. It was here that our group of ten would split into teams of five and board white water rafts. My helmet hardly fit, and I questioned the safety of the life jacket. But this is Thailand and speaking up will do you no favours. So mouth shut, I learned the five commands: forward, backward, all left, all right, stop. And then into the boat.

The water was low, and so the river was only a class 2, as opposed to the class 5 we were told it becomes in the summer's rainy season. A few times we were trapped on the rocks, but more often than not we were heading down at a good clip. Passing the elephants tramping through the bush on a safari was quite the moment as well. Seeing the world from a different perspective can change everything. My mind was dragged back to the river raft section of Jurassic Park (the novel – in the movie that ride wasn't yet complete. Although they created said ride at one of the Universal Studios. The one in Hollywood... I'll be in Hollywood this March! I must go! I must visit Jurassic Park! My god, why have I not thought of this before?! research... research... research... No! The ride is closed for refurbishment! Surely it will be nice and furbished by mid-March, right?!)

Just take a moment to appreciate all that I've seen, and all that I will see – and it's Jurassic Park I'm worried about missing out on. Well, at least it's clouding the very real fear that Machu Picchu will still be closed when I am supposed to be visiting it.

At one point we stopped to swim from our rafts. I may have swam too far into the current. The less said about that the better.

And then we finished our float down the river on a bamboo raft which rested nicely about two inches under the waters surface. We polled ourselves along, like a giant flat macorro. And then ended our journey, and headed back for the city.

It was a fantastic way to spend two days, and very inexpensive as well. It is highly recommended for anyone planning to visit this city. As much fun as temples are day after day, this is a beautiful way to break away from that.

When I returned I was knackered, and settled down to rest and relax and comfortably do nothing. Perfect.

It should also be noted that I've started reading Red Rabbit now – Shopaholic has been returned to the wild.

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.