I know trekking is supposed to be fun but I must admit that at times I was muttering 'I hate the jungle' under my breath as we made our way through a three day trek in the mountains north of Chiang Mai.

On the morning of the trek the skies darkened over Chiang Mai and it started to rain hard, not a good omen, but when we met the rest of our group and set off in the van towards the monutains our spirtits lifted. Day one was a pretty easy introduction with a lunch of fried rice then a two hour trek to the village where we would spend the night. The village was populated by about 120 Karen tribe villagers, 50 pigs, 40 buffalo and too many chickens to count. The setting was magical with the wooden huts tucked between a fold in the mountain and a gurgling brown river. We had a few sips of the local moonshine whiskey and sat outside to eat our supper under the stars. We tried to find the Great Plough constellation but there were so many millions of stars it was difficult to find any of the usual patterns.

Day two of the trek started groggily as the buffalo tethered to our hut had moode practically tall night and when they did finally stop, the cockerel started up. The second day was tough and we began with a four hour trek through the jungle. There was almost constant rain and the paths turned into rivers of mud. It's hard to say which was worse; going uphill was extremely tough as it was hard to breath, but going downhill took just as much effort to avoid falling down the muddy slope. Most of the time was spent looking down at our feet to determine which bits of ground would hold us, add to this the leeches and various other bugs and at times it was pretty miserable.

Our guide Dang did his best to cheer us up making hats from leaves and walking sticks from bamboo and when we did get a chance to admire the views they where impressive; lush valletys and cloud-tipped peaks. After a quick lunch of pot noodles it was a two hour walk to meet the elephants and ther guides. We climbed onto the elephants' backs and travelled in a little more style to the bamboo camp which was our home for the second night.

With the worst of the walking behind us we were in the mood for celebration so out came the whiskey, beer and playing cards. Dang entrtained us with magic tricks and we stayed up late playing drinking games, partly because we decided that the only way we would be able to sleep in our hut full of spiders and other critters was if we were drunk.

The last day was a doddle in comparison, we went bamboo rafting for an hour dodging the rapids and low branches, then a short walk to civilisation - the first tarmac road for three days.

The mountain scenery and insight into village life on a trek is incredible and the only way you can get there is by walking, so I'm glad we did it. But for me one of the biggest highs was getting home to showers, fans, fridges and a clean bed which I think confirms my supsicion that I am no natural-born trekker.