What Goes Up Must Come Down

Today began like any other day: with a “cuckoo, cuckoo” noise. In my normal Taipei County life, my phone alarm says, “cuckoo, cuckoo.” At home, someone occasionally wakes me by pushing me and saying, “cuckoooo, cuckooo.” Today was slightly different: there were thirty calls, and they came from real cuckoos. I slept wonderfully in Lahu, with acceptable weather and no construction noise. I was the first to leave the sleeping quarters and made my way to the main hut, where my guide was boiling water. The three of us sat and chatted over cups of coffee. Once the food arrived, I ate and returned to the trail.

The previous day involved five hours of climbing; today brought three hours of descent. Honestly, I prefer going up. Although I was continually on the verge of slipping, I felt more in control than most people, especially in my adventure shoes, a pair of Keens. One highlight of the descent was stopping at a huge waterfall. As the pictures show, it was the perfect height for a natural back massage. The guide jumped in, and I soon followed. I was the first to step out and took a few photos of the others.

I returned to the trail shortly afterwards and hiked on. A few small villages sat along the route, and eventually I emerged at an elephant reserve. Apparently, elephants that cannot survive in the wild are sent there. I went to a small hut, put my gear in the back of a truck, walked up a large, gently swaying ramp, and climbed onto an elephant.

It was certainly a unique experience. The elephants were so accustomed to the routine that they seemed to know exactly what would happen next. I bought some bananas for about 50 baht each and, after a few minutes, began feeding my elephant and the baby that joined us. After a walk up the road and trail to the camp, I dismounted and boarded a white-water raft. The river was Class III at best and could probably have been navigated in an inner tube with a beer in hand. However, I had neither beer nor an inner tube, so no luck.

It was not especially dramatic, but I enjoyed the ride. A Swedish couple shared my raft, although they were not particularly talkative.

After about an hour, I left the river and boarded a bamboo raft. I enjoyed it, although I think bamboo rafting sounds more dramatic than it is. Then again, I suspect not many people have tried it, so perhaps I should feel special.

Once we finished, I returned for dinner. After a quick, freezing shower, I started eating. I said goodbye to my guides and climbed into the truck. The road was bumpy and winding, with large potholes. My cramped truck-taxi was quiet, and most people did not talk. I chatted with two men from San Francisco. One had just returned from India, so I listened to his stories. Although they carried an undertone of hardship, that only intrigued me; I am sure I will visit one day.

After dropping people off one by one, I walked to another hostel. The smaller two-person rooms were all taken, so I had to book a “deluxe” room. At less than $10 a night for the room, I could hardly complain.

When I last spoke with Sean, we had arranged to meet for dinner. Since I did not know where to meet him and Pink, they suggested a small market near the edge of the old town, coincidentally only two blocks from my hostel. Chiang Mai has a distinct energy, partly fuelled by its lively night markets. Sean and Pink were easy to find; in fact, Sean spotted me. After a quick meal, I jumped into a taxi.

With Sean following, I headed to a small bar tucked away from the streets most frequented by foreign visitors. The bar was modest but beautiful. Most notable was the cheerfulness of the people. Unlike some bars in the United States, which can feel dreary, this one was lively yet peaceful.

Sean and I shared some beer, while Pink and I ordered cocktails. Soon, I needed the bathroom, which was inside the house connected to the bar. Fortunately, I had enough local experience to know that I should remove my shoes.

After talking for a while, with plenty of teasing directed at Kelvin in multiple languages, I returned to my guesthouse. Exhausted, I fell asleep the moment I reached the bed.