CHIANG MAI TREKKING: PART 1
Having survived Loy Kratong, it was time to go trekking. Northern Thailand is part of the famous Golden Triangle of opium producing nations. It was well-known that many of the treks also included a session or two in an opium den along the way. Friends of mine had told me all about it and, if I am honest, I was looking forward to trying it. I asked the guides, Golf and Opal, if we would have the chance to smoke any opium, but they told me that there had been major government crackdowns and it was virtually impossible to find treks where opium, or even weed, could still be found. They also told me that they had to supply urine samples for testing before and after every trek. Oh well. It looked like it was going to be a sober trek, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
There was a group of about ten of us, plus the two guides. We first drove in a songthaew out into the surrounding hills, stopping on the way to buy supplies. As we wandered around a small local market, we came across a couple of large lizards still alive, but all bound up and ready for the pot. There were two American guys who decided that they should buy one of the lizards and release it. These two guys weren’t travelling together and didn’t know each other, but they were instantly bonded by their sympathy for the lizards. I’m not sure how they decided which lizard should be spared, but they bought one. They planned to release it once we got up into the hills. However, the guy who was holding it decided it was too much trouble, and he released the lizard at the edge of the market without telling his fellow rescuer. When the other would-be liberator found out, they had a blazing row. Part of the argument was that releasing the lizard so near to the market had almost certainly guaranteed its impending recapture, while the funnier part of the argument related to not having the opportunity to see the lizard in its moment of liberation. These guys were hilarious. I knew I was going to be able to have some fun with them on the trek.
“Hey, guys. There’s another lizard. Buy that one.”
They didn’t.
We eventually arrived at the start of the trail at around mid-day. After we were dropped off, the first thing that we did was have lunch. There were a few huts nearby, and somebody had cooked us a whole heap of fried rice with fried eggs.
“This would have been a great place to release the lizard,” I said, stirring up the drama queens. They bit. This was just going to be too easy.
The first day of the trek was a pleasant walk in the woods. The pace was not too fast, and although there were some undulations describing an upward trend, it was never steep. After a couple of hours, we arrived at a clearing, where a waterfall had created a plunge pool and we took an extended break before the final stretch to our first camp.
It was clear from the lay of the land that we were trekking along the side of a dell. Then as we rounded a corner, we suddenly exited the cover of the forest and entered a wide, shallow valley. Rice terraces had been hewn into its sides and a small village of wooden huts nestled near the bottom. We followed a path along the small dykes that marked the boundary of each paddy until we arrived at the village. The centre-piece of the community was a large hut that appeared to be a communal hall, and this was surrounded by several smaller huts, presumably the living quarters of the villagers. All of the huts were raised above the ground on stilts and thatched with dried leaves. We gathered at the communal hut, where we were greeted by the headman of the village, who offered us tea or moonshine.
As I drank my moonshine (Come on! You didn’t think I was going to drink tea, did you?), I looked around the large hut. There was a freshly hunted monkey beyond even the redemption of the Americans, and what was clearly its slayer, the longest barrelled rifle I had ever seen. It looked like something out of a museum.
We were given a brief tour of the village, which consisted of having the toilets, wash areas and our sleeping huts pointed out to us. Then after a quick strip wash, we were free to have a look around before dinner was served on the communal hut’s extensive balcony.
It was quickly getting dark, so I just hung around the main hut, chatting with the other travellers and drinking more moonshine with the headman. The language barrier was stinting the conversation, but the moonshine was kicking a few holes in it.
Paul Snowdon – Excerpt from Naked Farang: Four Weddings and a Coup
Related Article: Loy Kratong in Chiang Mai
Related Article: Chiang Mai Trekking: Part 2
Related Article: Chiang Mai Trekking: Part 3
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