Chiang Mai to Mae Hong Son on scooters

Scootering the 270km from Chiang Mai to Mae Hong Son was one of the best days in SE Asia so far. Once you get off the terrifying highway leading out of Chiang Mai the roads are smooth and clear, with plenty of space on the left side for scooters to roam free.

After 30km on a marginally busy dual carriageway you turn off to far emptier and more scenic rural roads, in surprisingly great condition and a joy to ride. I love the freedom of having a scooter, and felt particularly snazzy on my bright pink and purple 'toy' machine, complete with bright green helmet. My mother will be pleased about the helmet part no doubt.

Pink Turbo Scooter 

The scooters were rented from Aya Service in Chiang Mai - a great travel office that offers cheap rates on scooter rental (£2.80 per day, including insurance!) and allows you to rent in Chiang Mai and return to the Pai office. Even better they take your luggage to Pai for you so you can ride without any extra burden. 

We packed a small bag with the bare minimum to survive a 4 day road trip and we were off!

After experiencing Indian road conditions and driving standards riding in Thailand is a dream. The roads are well paved and all the vehicles on it drive at a relatively acceptable speed and are far more likely to pass an MOT in England than any of the bone-rattling monstrosities trundling up and down mountain roads in India. And I was extremely relieved to see none of the death-defying overtaking on bends that was a constant heart-stopper while travelling in India. So basically, the drive to Pai was a breeze! With killer views of lush valleys and pine-studded woods as a bonus.

Lunch in Pai provided a well-needed breather, before hitting the road for a further 150km. Dozens of paddy fields and breath taking views later, we arrived in the small town of Mae Hong Son in time for sunset (just!). We definitely deserved a beer at this point so we watched the sunset over the lake and its reflection of the temple opposite while nursing a nice cool Leo.

Desperate to get off the tourist trail, the next day we went in search of some hill tribe villages right on the border with Myanmar. We were disappointed to find it almost as touristy as the rest of Thailand with tourist priced restaurants alongside the lake and a couple of tour buses parked on the curbside.

Pretty sure this guy is smoking opium

So we headed slightly out of town, towards an intriguingly high hill with flags billowing at the top. We dumped our bikes and headed upwards by foot. We had finally escaped from other people. So much so a monk had chosen this humble hillside with marvellous views as a meditation place. We stumbled upon him in his cave and I think he was as surprised as we were!

Further upwards we came across a lone hut, romantically nestled on the hilltop, housing 2 men with nothing but a radio for company.

Monk meditation spot

Lonesome living

Explorative juices fully flowing we hopped back on our bikes to investigate a lake we had heard we could camp alongside. It turned out to be a beautiful spot and a purely Thai affair. Not a single westerner in sight. And a tent complete with plenty of duvets and a fantastic lake view.

Reflections

Lakeside

Room with a view

The first morning we dragged ourselves out of bed in the hope of catching the mist rising over the lake, supposedly better a bit earlier in the year. Misjudging what time sunrise was we found ourselves shivering next to the lake playing around with long exposure.  But the results are pretty cool!

Messing around with long exposure

Nightlake

Eventually the sun rose and a glimmering of mist appeared before being scared off by the warming sunshine. 

Boating in the mist

Misty morning

We too scampered off back to bed for a few hours. The rest of the day was spent gathering firewood for a blazing campfire later and sharing tea and passionate conversation with Ben, a Burmese refugee with a hell of an opinion on pretty much any topic.

A large bottle of rum and a campfire later and we’d made friends with a group of feisty young Thais in the campsite. We finished the night singing raucously round the fire while banging what percussion we could muster from bottles, forks, candles and bamboo cups. Let’s just say not everyone wanted to be our friend after that…

Firewood gathering

Fire pit by the lake

The return to Pai with a stonking hangover was not as enjoyable as the drive there but the fresh air certainly helped to reduce the banging headaches!

Street photography in Chiang Mai

Feeling inspired by the creative vibe in Chiang Mai I spent a day pootling around trying my hand at some street photography.

A few experimental ones and other snapshots of life going by.

Life goes by

Paint by water

Bike versus moto

Balloon

Sunbeams

Guitar man

Snack seller

Acro yoga in the park

Pinks and drinks

Signs

Thai Travels - First stop Bangkok

Arriving in Bangkok I had no idea what to expect from Thailand other than that I may die from eating peanuts or fish (supposedly the main ingredients in most of Thai cooking!) Consequently I was too afraid to eat anything other than crisps and toasties from Seven Eleven for the first few days. I have since learned that peanuts are extremely easy to avoid (so far...) and fish sauce appears not to cause allergic reactions due to its lengthy fermentation process. Phew!

The first thing I was surprised by, having come directly from India where poverty is in your face at all times, was how moneyed Thailand appears to be. The buildings, cars, roads, temples (everything) are shiny, new and expensive looking. There are high rise towers aplenty. The people are stylish, coiffed and gadget laden. The highways are wide and smooth with a petrol station on every corner. The vibe of the city that I saw in my brief sojourn is cosmopolitan, stylish, and sleek. A modern metropolis with modern inhabitants to match. 

On my first day, despite no sleep, I cruised the canals on the local ferry, getting an interesting insight into backwater life. I climbed up to the Wat Saket golden temple - a rather surreal ascent with its atmospheric steaming undergrowth, statues, spiritual music and golden buddhas.

Steaming ascent to Wat Saket

Fat monk

Arriving to Bangkok on the weekend meant I got to experience a morning getting lost at the Chatuchak Weekend Market, (Asia's largest market and suitably maze-like). You can buy anything there, from vintage clothes to antiques, pet animals to BBQ’d pork, rugs and scarves to ceramics and handicrafts. Just make sure you bring lots of money. Or none, if you’re on a budget as tight as mine. 

Still, I couldn’t resist picking up a cheeky Tie dye t-shirt for 80 English pence and a bargainferous pair of second-hand Puma shoes from the vintage section. 

The 'Thai' dye t-shirt in action in Kanchanaburi

Then I had to force myself to leave before spending any more of my precious Baht. 

So we headed in search of the fabled “ghost tower” of Bangkok - a 49 storey high rise, one of the many victims of the ’97 financial crisis when businesses failed and much construction stopped dead in its tracks. It lies unfinished, graffitied and abandoned; a perfect alternative tourist attraction for the adventurous, and those able to wheedle their way past security. 

We were greeted by some shifty looking men (I couldn't tell if they were security guards or opportunistic hobos) who we slipped 150 baht each (£3) in order to be granted entry. Eery and rubble-strewn, the dark staircase of this shell of a building seems to go on forever, taking you up to floor after floor of empty rooms with nothing more than a toilet (and sometimes a battered bath) installed and fronted by incongruously grand Roman-esque balconies, majestically watching over the city below. 

The views at the top are worth the hearty climb, and the photo opportunities at sunset are unmatchable. 

My time in Bangkok was brief and I would have liked more time there to sample the street food, night life and general milieu but I moved swiftly northwards in search of cheaper prices and more rural surroundings. 

People I've met

So far I have mainly focused on the places I have been in Kathmandu, while it’s the people I have met along the way that have truly made my experience here. I’ve already mentioned my Turkish photographic fiend, with whom I shared a brief two day photography “workshop”, snapshotting our way around the city in a whirlwind tour, our subjects everyone from holy men to homeless men, cheeky monkeys to cheeky children, and of course, everything else in between. We enjoyed the views and the wildlife at the Monkey temple, got spiritual with some Sadus at the holy site Pashupatinath, chattered with monks at Kopan and soaked up the Buddhist culture in Boudhanath, managing to sneak in a few beers and some live Nepali music along the way.

 Harking back to my first day in Kathmandu, when I arrived bleary-eyed from a sleepless overnight flight, I met someone else who has continued to make my time in Nepal a pleasure and an education. I was lost in the rain in search of my lodging when a kindly Nepali woman named Manisha took me under her wing. She invited me in for tea and to shelter from the rain, promising to help me find my hostel when the rain ceased. Manisha turned out to be intelligent, kind and generous, with a passion for social change and the arts. A writer by trade already with a few novels in her repertoire she has fingers in many pies in the Kathmandu arts and social activism scene. Alongside researching and planning her next novel she is busy writing articles for newspapers, applying for jobs as a playwright, and working with a disability organisation. The life of a disabled person in Nepal is tough. Lacking the resources they need and stigmatised by a society that largely still sees disability as a penance for sins committed in previous lives, it is extremely difficult for the less able to become economically independent and exercise their rights.

Among other things, Manisha’s organisation provides home-visit teachers to disabled children around Kathmandu and Bakhtapur. They are currently filming a documentary to highlight the important role this scheme plays in the lives of these children and their families. I was lucky enough to be invited along to their office where they are in the editing process. As a budding videographer myself this was a fantastic opportunity and I learned some top tips for my own filming and editing projects. One of the men involved in the project has his own story to tell. He has in fact just released this story as a feature film, directed by himself and with a number of awards under its belt already. It has also been nominated for an Oscar! After losing the use of both legs at only 17, refusing to be beaten by his misfortune, he has forged a great career in film, and finally completed his life story project after 7 years of planning and dreaming. The film is beautiful and funny and poignant and bittersweet – I can’t wait to watch the full version when it’s released in England!

Through Manisha I have seen sides of Kathmandu and Nepali life that I would never have experienced alone. Invited into her home, and the lives of her friends and family over the last few weeks, I have felt the full effect of the Nepali generosity and warm-heartedness. Only last Saturday I was a guest at a Teej celebration with 25 female Nepali writers, where there was feasting and dancing and plenty of impassioned debate. (Or at least that’s what I imagine it was, considering my Nepali is not yet good enough to follow the conversations!) I was welcomed with open arms and fascination.  

With Manisha I have also eaten my first home-cooked Nepali meal. It as eaten with my hands in true Nepali style, and in the dark in Kathmandu style (there are intermittent blackouts thanks  to insufficient electricity to supply the whole city). I have ridden on the back of a scooter, dodging pot-holes, overtaking groaning buses and circumnavigating chaotic traffic jams. 

I have wandered the red cobbled streets of Bakhtapur, sucking on Kulfi (frozen milk solids with dried fruit and nuts inside), sampling curd (another delicious milk-based snack), bargaining with street-hawkers, and eating traditional Newari food, (in a place I wouldn’t have known existed if not for Manisha and friends). 

I have sampled the theatrical world of Kathmandu, watching a Nepali version of Hedda Gabler, directed by another of Manisha’s friends. Already a subtle and complex play it was all the more indecipherable in Nepali. But the acting was fantastic! I have been introduced to the best local (and therefore cheap!) restaurants in my area and to so many little titbits of knowledge about the culture, society and history of Nepal that I have come to understand and love this addictive and inspiring place all the more. And I haven’t even begun to talk about Women-LEAD! I think I will save that for the next instalment…

Getting spiritual...

Kopan Monastery is as a monastery should be – peaceful, spiritual and high above the towns and villages in the valley below. We held our breath at every twist and turn that our taxi had a decent hand brake and finally we were there. Since Saturday is the monks’ holiday we did not get to witness any of their services or rituals. Instead we caught the monks at a time of play and relaxation, allowing us to speak with them as fellow humans and hear about their lives at the monastery, rather than viewing them as higher beings with no connection to us as visitors. Seeing the young monks of eight or ten years old playing board games as exuberantly as any other child was a delightful insight into the usually elusive daily life inside a monastery. Unfortunately Kartal’s request to photograph the llama (the chosen one) for his exhibition for UNICEF was refused by the head monk so he had to make do with covertly snapping young monks as they passed by.

Continuing the Buddhist theme our next destination was the Tibetan centre of Bodhnath, a district centred around its imposing and beautiful stupa (Buddhist temple). The square where the stupa resides is buzzing with life while maintaining a sense of calming repose. Thousands of pilgrims gather daily to walk clockwise round the stupa, spinning prayer wheels and chanting mantras. Photos cannot do the atmosphere justice and neither can my words. It is a great place for people watching and self-reflection.

Having wandered the streets of Bodhnath, speaking with (and photographing!) some locals, we headed off to Pashputinath, a Hindu temple on the banks of the Bagmati River. This is where the dead are cremated so I prepared myself for a sombre scene. It was the first time I have seen a real life dead body, albeit from afar, and it affected me greatly. Kartal said it was the first time he had seen me still and silent for that long so that’s saying something! Watching a funeral you have no relation to is a strange experience too. I was torn between feelings of fascination at the rituals and traditions I was seeing, empathy and sadness for the mourning families, and a sense of voyeurism for sitting with crowds of other spectators while friends and relatives watched their loved ones turn into ashes. Many of these spectators were fellow Nepalis though, so it was not a touristic spectacle, more like an observational ritual, shared with the funeral party. The process is long but dignified, and I think I like that the body is open to be seen by its relatives for the last time, rather than hidden away in a coffin as if death is contagious and a social taboo.

Around this holy site are various Sadus, or holy men, who have left their families to follow a life of spirituality and learning. They rub the ashes of the dead on their bodies and sit still for hours and hours a day. They are of course a tourist attraction as a result, and capitalise on this by asking for money in exchange for photographs. My Turkish friend Kartal had spent four hours with these Sadus in this spot a few days earlier, and was greeted with familiarity and warmth. We paid our dues to them and in exchange got free reign of photography, snapping away unfettered while others looked on in fascination. A particularly surreal moment in all this was Kartal directing the “chief” or teacher Sadu to sit in certain poses, look in different directions, and basically become a living model for him. We ended up with some fantastically intimate shots that I never would have dared to get without my gregarious Turk on hand! Unfortunately he headed to India the next day so I must continue my photo apprenticeship alone from now on. And so I will!