Flew into Bangkok, then straight up to Chang Mai where we boarded a small raft that carried us up river to the meeting point. It was only a group of 5 and immediately divided up into me and a Canadian girl called Sara, a married Welsh couple and the scary ex-army psycho. The couple kept themselves to themselves and scary guy didn’t talk to anyone so the two of us were thrown in together for 25 days.
Anyway, from Chang Mai we donned our rucksacks and hiked north to the Golden Triangle, the meeting point between Thailand, Myanmar (Burma), Vietnam and Laos where we stayed with a hill tribe in a remote village.
On arrival they killed a pig and tucked into pork steaks, leaving us with a green curry consisting of easily identifiable parts of the pig, suck as snout and oesophagus. This was both inedible and entirely lacking in nutrition. Later in the evening they brought us rice wine in plastic bags, which on an empty stomach led to the worst hangover I’d ever experienced.
That night we slept on a tiled floor and no amount of alcohol could disguise the clickety click of beetles rushing hungrily towards us.
Waking early the next day they provided us with their local hangover cure of lemons doused in fish sauce, before taking us to their silk worm farm for a deep-fried silk worm breakfast. This turned out to be surprisingly ok – like honey coated Wotsits.
The only joy in the village was to be found in trying to help the little kids improve their maths and English.
We lived in this constant cycle for a week before heading back through the jungle and having to cross the now swollen rivers by balancing our way across tiny logs that had fallen in the recent rains. When we eventually reached the starting point we took an elephant back up the river as was too fast to hope to paddle the raft against the current.
Arriving back in Chang Mai I collapsed on the river bank, by now too ill and malnourished to notice Sara had disappeared. When we returned she’d brought me a triple chocolate cornetto and an ice-cold, heavy glass bottle of Coke. Perfection.
I don’t remember how, but we made a 20 minute trip across the bridge to Myanmar which was exceedingly expensive, but seemed worth it at the time.
From Chang Mai we flew back to Bankgok and did the tourist sites, ending up on the Khaosan Road, which was full of 16 year olds covered in beads and henna tattoos telling us how they were ‘doing Thailand’ whilst tucking into a cheeseburger and beer. First time I’d realised what a travel snob was, but we detested them.
Excellent YouTube post ! thanks for sharing. I’ll be adding your blog to my reader.
Juan
Pingback: The Perils of Drinking Rice Wine for Lunch - Lintao, Gansu Province