We last left you in Tokyo, reminiscing over our Japanese experience. Our final night was very happily spent with a certain Mr David Rae, who happened to be over in the land of the rising sun for the Man U Club World Cup game. Despite the ridiculous Japanese prices, we managed to get through a rather hefty amount of Jack Daniels and coke/lager in an Irish bar in Roppongi Hills, catching up on all the latest news from Blighty and putting the world to rights. It was a great night, and a fitting way to end our Japan leg - big thanks Dave! It was only when we realised we had no choice but to leave just after midnight to get the last train back to our hotel (taxis were out of the question!), a good hour and a bit across town, that the reality of the situation set in.
Through the whiskey haze, we managed to negotiate the train journey in one piece, but luck ran out when we got hopelessly lost trying to find our hotel the other end. We finally found the shopping mall it was located in (Japan is weird like that!), but couldn't find any way to get in, all doors seemingly locked for the night. After what seemed like hours traipsing round the huge perimeter of the building, we finally managed to sneak in a staff entrance following behind a kindly staff member, who took pity and pointed us in the right direction. We crawled into bed, managing to set the alarm for three hours later, as we had an early flight to Bangkok to catch later that morning!
Things seemed even worse when we awoke at 5.30am, as the worst hangover of all time kicked in with full effect. To add to our woes, we then realised we had managed to spend pretty much all of our remaining cash. Not a problem in most cases, just pay another trip to the cashpoint, I hear you cry. Not so easy in Japan unfortunately, where the only international ATMs don't open until 9.30am and the public transport system doesn't accept card! We had to get to the airport though, so ended up spending a fortune on the limousine airport bus which left from the hotel, which to our relief happily accepted the Visa we waved desperately at the bemused hotel staff.
We made it to the airport in time, hangover still kicking in vigorously, and on to the plane, but the alcohol gods weren't yet done. To add to our misery, it was the smallest plane yet for economy, a matter made worse by the gentleman seated 'next' to me (SB), a portly Japanese chap, who proceeded to get through four bottles of the cheap red plonk on offer, then fall fast asleep on my shoulder, dribbling and snoring away. A kindly hostess rescued the situation, but safe to say, it will not go down as one of my favourite flying experiences...
Leaving the hangover behind, we turned our attention to our new home for the next few weeks, Thailand. For once, we found the guesthouse in Bangkok no problem, and it was absolutely brilliant. Named 'Cozy Bangkok Place', it was owned by a lovely Thai couple, who were so friendly, helpful and welcoming, you could have stayed there for weeks. After a good night's sleep in a great bed, we hit the city, which we instantly felt comfortable in, meeting friendly, genuine people all over town, from the hustle and bustle of Chinatown to the shopping frenzy of Siam Square. The first couple of days were also a great introduction to real Thai food - fantastic Phad Thai noodles, spicy whole white fish grilled in front of you and delicious green curry to die for, all at rock bottom prices. Surprisingly enough, we were like pigs in muck tucking into the best nosh Bangkok had to offer.
After a couple of days, we headed up on the 12 hour train to Chiang Mai, in the far north of the country, promising to come back to Bangkok for another taste later in the trip. The journey went surprisingly quickly, helped along by the complementary fantastic food, drinks and home-made banana cake (Virgin have got nothing on these guys) and offered unmissable views through the ever-changing countryside. Huge, gleaming Buddhas sat serenely high up in the hills, smiling down benevolently as we chugged past; beautiful children ran along, smiling and waving at the train from a multitude of small, colourful villages, which looked as though they hadn't changed much in 50 years; all alongside a range of cows, pigs and other animals and miles and miles of the obligatory rice fields, grassed over until the growing season hits later in the year.
Arriving in Chiang Mai about 8pm, we hopped on to our first 'share taxi', which many people will probably recognise as another way of saying 'cheap ride in the back of a truck', and whizzed past the lights and buzz of the city to our guesthouse for the night. Unsurprisingly, we were hungry and headed straight out to the nearest spot, a friendly, English-speaking cafe, for a great plate of noodles and a good old curry.
The next day we headed over in eager anticipation to Eagle House, the guesthouse with whom we had booked a three day hill trek through the remote villages of the local hill tribes. Looking over the pictures from various previous trips, we felt a mounting sense of excitement. Meeting up with our guide, Det, an impossibly skinny and cheeky guy, and the other trekkers we were to spend the next few days with, confirmed this was going to be a lot of fun. The party consisted of an American couple (Hollywood agents!), two other Brits (...from Hull) and four Germans (three boys and a girl).
We set off at 8.30am the next day, sparking up instant conversation whilst clinging on to the handrails in the back of the pick up truck (the huge strapping guy from Hull stepped out of the vehicle and hung onto the roof for fun as the driver veered round corners at 90km/hr - the Hollywood agent leant over to me and whispered 'If he falls off and dies, he'll ruin the trip for everyone!' - classic!).
We eventually stopped by the roadside for our first meal of the day - a fantastic portion of fried rice with vegetables, beautifully wrapped in a banana leaf parcel, the first of many top notch meals to come. Fully fed, we soon started walking through lush green and brown fields, with only the sounds of birds and cattle for company, bar our first few meetings with local villagers, answering our questions with a smile , happily posing for photographs, all the while looking slightly bemused at our bulging knapsacks, full camping outfits and expensive walking shoes, as they ambled past in age-old flip flops carrying massive bowls of rice or huge bamboo sticks, without even breaking a sweat!
After a couple of hours, we reached the village we were to spend the night in, high up in the hills and seemingly isolated, though still possessing five TV sets between 30 or so inhabitants, a fact the welcoming, smiling villagers proudly relayed to us via our guide. They showed us to the 'hotel', a large bamboo hut on stilts, complete with mosquito nets and large amounts of blankets, and we set up camp for the night.
We managed a few hours of sleep, helped along by some fantastic woolly balaclavas we bought at the market (much to the amusement of the other trekkers who thought we looked like a couple of bankrobbing misfits). In the morning, we sat around a pot fire in our host's hut, surrounded by yet more platefuls of rice, we were offered what was described as 'deer' curry to try, which was interesting since there were definitely no signs of deer up in those mountains! Our host then unveiled the wonderful second course still sizzling away in a huge metal bowl - a big load of fried insects. Not wanting to offend our hosts, we accepted some to try. After being taught how to peel the wings off, we chomped away at our oily bugs as quickly as possible, thanked our hosts and made a hasty get-away.
Later that day, as we trekked through a farmers field, we were stopped by a cheekily grinning Det. He rummaged around in a huge cowpat and produced with delight a dung beetle. Looking at us with great satisfaction, he said, "This is what you were eating this morning!". "Why didn't you tell us?!?" we replied. "You would never have eaten it then", he laughed back. We had been done, no two ways about it.
The rest of the second day passed in a haze of sunlight, beautiful forest and cheery villagers feeding their livestock, sleeping in the sun or catching tomorrow's meal. We walked for about 7 hours, mostly uphill, with a break for lunch by a cool stream. When we reached our second night's lodgings, a spacious hut by a river, everyone was delighted to get into swimwear and have a short dip in the cold, but refreshing water. This was followed by the best meal yet - crunchy spring rolls, sweet dipping sauce, tasty curry, vegetables, rice and of course, a few cold beers, and more silly stories round the fire.
The next morning, we were raring to go on the last big adventure - bamboo rafting down the river. The locals make the rafts each time by hand - eight, twelve foot bamboo poles, tied together with thin strips of bamboo, enough to hold the weight of four of us standing, plus a local steering the raft. B got the job of steering from the back, which he made his own, even passing for a gondolier in the right light, singing 'O Sole Mio' as we whizzed downstream - this was made a lot more complicated by the fact that our local guide at the front of the raft shouted 'left!' when he meant right and vice versa. The river was fairly gentle, with some faster Grade 2 rapids, which were great fun to whizz through, the sunshine dappling through the trees and all of nature around us. It was spot on.
Once off the rafts, we walked for a couple of hours, chilled by some stunning waterfalls and headed back to town for the night.
After a day resting, we were ready to go again, and spent Christmas Day amongst our favourite thing of all time - food! We were in a comfortable villa in the countryside on a cooking course making and scoffing green curry, phad thai, hot and sour soup and several other dishes. We were each given a book of recipes and all the secrets to take home, so hopefully we'll be able to recreate some of them once we get back to London. Christmas day got more surreal as we spent the evening watching a muaythai (Thai boxing) competition (including a hilarious blindfolded bout - the referee was inevitably knocked out much to the amusement of the crowd).
Boxing day was a totally different experience as we headed to a wonderful Elephant conservation park - an inspiring sight created by an inspiring woman who has dedicated her life to rescuing some of the most abused Elephants in Thailand. Considering this is such a revered animal in Thailand's history, the stories of abuse are horrific - young eles caught, caged and 'broken' (a four day submission tactic in which the elephant is tortured with bamboo sticks with sharp metal nails prodded into their eyes and inner ears until they can no longer take the suffering and live a life in fear, totally submissive) and used to beg on the streets (even in central Bangkok!) or forced to paint in tourist shows!. Some of the elephants were blinded, maimed, had broken backs or psychological issues - it was heartbreaking. I was totally in my element - feeding, hugging and washing some beautiful creatures. After such a humbling experience, it was time to leave Chiang Mai.
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