Sore is the word for today. I woke, rolled out of bed, somehow checked out, and took a tuk-tuk to Chiang Dao. Since I was meeting Sean and Pink there, I only wandered around briefly and did not fully explore the expansive park. Although the national park and meditation area was somewhat run-down, it still had a quiet beauty that was difficult to describe. Sean and Pink arrived shortly afterwards, happily saving me from the mosquitoes, which were abundant around the park’s large ponds. And I know how much I love mosquitoes.

I walked down the street to a breakfast place and had a delicious meal: a pancake served rolled rather than flat, along with eggs, bacon, and the usual American breakfast fare. After a long conversation, I returned up the road to a massage studio. All four of us changed into enormous, comfortable trousers and had Thai-style massages. Pink fell asleep. Sean kept asking whether I was all right. I tried to hide the pain, partly from the previous day’s hike and partly because Thai massage is not necessarily designed to be a gentle, relaxing experience. I looked close to tears. Despite that, my 99 baht delivered an excellent return on investment: I left feeling rejuvenated and younger.

Since we were in the hills, I still needed to reach the main road. Four people, one scooter. Not going to happen. Sean ferried us down in stages, and I suspect people were highly amused by two white men riding a small scooter along a back road.

I jumped into a shared taxi and headed to the bus station. Unbeknownst to me, the next bus left at 1:30pm. It was 1:20, and I was about 200 baht short. I ran to the ATM, withdrew a few thousand baht, bought some dried fish crisps and water, purchased my ticket, and ran to the bus. The door closed immediately after I boarded, and, like a schoolchild, I sat in the very back row.

The five-hour bus ride was a breeze. I read more of War and Peace and took a few naps. In a moment of childish boredom, I poked at the seat in front of me for a few miles. The sun was setting when I arrived.

The taxi and tuk-tuk drivers in Sukhothai form a highly competitive transport crowd. The moment I stepped off the bus, they swarmed around me like bees around honey. To strengthen my bargaining position, I teamed up with a few English women and successfully lowered the tuk-tuk fare into town to just 20 baht. They went their way, and I continued mine.

I stopped at the Thai Guest House, a large, slightly dilapidated home converted into three or four rooms with a balcony. I paid and was shown upstairs. My room was one of the most basic I had ever stayed in, and I have visited some rough hostels. At the same time, the old house had an undeniable charm. I went out in search of food.

A short walk brought me to yet another night market, where I ordered from a street vendor. I had a mixture of rice, soup, and meat, which was delicious. To complete the evening, I ordered a thick, crepe-like pancake filled with chocolate. Bliss followed, and dinner was complete.

Back at the guesthouse, I climbed the steep stairs and heard familiar sounds: two women and a man were speaking Chinese on the balcony. I quickly realised they were from Taiwan. I managed a few broken sentences in Chinese and then listened for a while. A German man sitting on the sofa nearby was heading to Chiang Mai. Since I had just come from there, I gave him my maps and recommendations, which he gratefully accepted.

My last significant observation before bed was the abundance of geckos, which were everywhere: on the wall across the narrow alley, on the balcony ceiling, and along the hallway ceiling.

Sleep came quickly.