Chiang Mai

30th Oct-2nd Nov

My first impressions of Chiang Mai were very favourable. Although a fairly sizeable city it lacked the in-your-faceness of Bangkok; yes, the tuk tuk drivers still asked if you needed a taxi, but they were also more than happy to take no for an answer. We stayed in a cheap and cheerful guesthouse - about two pounds fifty each for a room with air-con and a hot-water shower. Can`t really complain about that. Feeling a bit spaced out from our journey we spent the first afternoon exploring Chiang Mai at a leisurely pace. In the evening we decided to brave the Night Bazaar, which is a huge bargain-hunter`s heaven, touristy but still substantially classier than the night market we`d chanced upon in Kanchanaburi, which bore an uncanny resemblance to St Neots market, proof that chavs are an international phenomenon. After trying our hands at haggling - and demonstrating what amateurs we were - we stopped at the food court nearby to get some dinner and watch a display of Thai dancing. Unfortunately my sudden craving for Indian curry backfired and resulted in us making a speedy return to our guesthouse much earlier than anticipated so that I could be within easy reach of certain facilities. So much for my stomach of iron.

The following day we decided to hire bikes to explore Chiang Mai in style. I`ve ridden a bike every day for the past nine months or so, so I wasn`t unduly worried by this prospect. However, as I soon discovered riding a bike in Japan, where everyone rides on the pavement, is very different from attempting to dodge the traffic on a busy road in Thailand. Within about ten minutes we had come to the conclusion that there are, quite simply, no rules.

me (to Lisa, slightly tentatively): I think the red lights are meant to be for bikes as well.
Lisa (a little annoyed): well those cars all drove straight through it.

She had a point.

Having now had a few days to recover from the temple fatigue we set off on a whirlwind tour of Chiang Mai`s not-to-be-missed Buddhist sites (we managed three: Wat Chiang Man, Wat Phra Singh and Wat Chedi Luang). After looking round the second one we noticed a sign advertising `Monk Chat`, where you could interview a monk of your choice about Buddhism, Thailand or pretty much anything else you fancied within the realms of decency. Good old Lonely Planet did stipulate that female visitors should refrain from making physical contact with the monks, no doubt to avoid luring then into temptation. By this time, however, we had been cycling around for over an hour in the sweaty heat along dusty roads; the monks were pretty safe: there was absolutely nothing tempting about us. Given some advenced warning I`d like to think I could have prepared some dazzlingly intelligent theological questions to ask our monk. However, suddenly confronted with said monk, sitting around a picnic table outside a temple I confess that my mind went completely blank. Lisa was equally tongue-tied, so to avoid the embarrassment of neither of us speaking at all I stuttered out whatever flew into my head, the result being that we left knowing a little about reincarnation and a lot about what monks eat for breakfast. By late afternoon we were all templed-out again, so had a brief look round one of the local markets then headed out to a riverside restaurant for dinner. This was lovely and made all the more enjoyable by the band playing - or more accurately, miming, sometimes not all that convincingly - covers of Western songs. Another excellent day.

For our final day in Chiang Mai we booked a one-day safari, having admitted from the start that we were not hardcore enough for full-on trekking. Our first stop was the Maesa Elephant Camp, about 30 minutes outside Chiang Mai. Shortly after arriving we were treated to an elephant show. I`d been led to believe that this would consist of a short display of the elephants` forestry skills, so was slightly disturbed when instead the trainers made them perform tricks. What surprised me most was that we seemed to be the only members of the primarily Western audience who appeared bothered by this. Maybe it`s true that us Brits are just a bit soft when it comes to animals (she said, somewhat hypocritically, having taken advantage of the fact that steak was about 3 quid a go to munch her way through a large slab of cow the night before). After the show was over we got to do the one thing I`d been banging on about for weeks: ride an elephant. And it was at this point that I discovered something about myself: I get elephant sick. I had expected it to be bumpy, but I hadn`t reckoned on the fact we would also be going up and down hills, or on the enthusiasm of our driver, who seemed intent on racing all the others back to the camp. After about ten minutes I was looking pretty green. Fortunately there were another thirty to go, before the guides thought it would be fun to transfer us to an ox-cart with an even more deranged driver. By the time we arrived back the contents of my stomach were hanging on for dear life. But it was still cool, or at least preferable to being at work - and the day got more relaxing from then on. After lunch we were taken on a trip down the river on a bamboo raft, an experience greatly enhanced by the fact we got to wear pointy straw hats. When we got back in the minibus our guide informed us that we had some spare time and asked if we`d like to see a snake show. As someone whose primary aim for the holiday was avoiding anything without legs I soon put a stop to that ridiculous idea and he drove us to an orchid farm instead.

That evening we tackled the Night Bazaar again. Our haggling skills were definitely improving and we returned to our guesthouse feeling quite smug with our efforts. I was going to miss Chiang Mai; it had been a good few days.