The Bridge on the River Pai
I have finally come to peace with leaving the monastery. I felt weak willed, but even so, things have worked out well for both parties.
I took a cheap tuk-tuk to the bus station on the eastern edge of Chiang Mai. The charm that had first seduced me was long gone after 4 days, and I was ready to leave. The bus station was maddening. It looked like some sort of bizarre stock market, and after hunting around for a few minutes I found, through a series of bizarre corridors, the desk to buy my ticket. $2.25 for 4 hours.
Our bus was late, and if there is a visual equivalent of what a late bus looks like, this was it. Driving up in between spotless, double decker tourist buses, the bus to Pai was bright orange with chipped paint. A definitive air of a third world country.
Once out of the city, I was a content man. The people were nicer on the bus to Pai, easy for conversation. The road turned quite steep and with a full load, our bus pattered along like the little engine that could, hardly. We stopped in a little town, the halfway point, and dropped some brits who were just dead weight.
I sat and had an espresso and banana, reveling at the good fortune of the mountain towns. I realized I had not even been in the country thus far, and it was all well and good that I was venturing there now. The second half of the leg was much steeper, but we had dropped some people off and our bus was handling it now.
At the restaurant, Justin used to loved to say this Grateful Dead quote, “When life looks like easy street its danger at your door,” meaning when I was on top of my game out of nowhere I’d have an unruly customer to put me in my place. However, this quote can work both ways. After being morbidly depressed after leaving the smiles of the good monks, a drive through the country had completely lifted my spirits to the highest they’ve been all trip.
Everything had a greater meaning it seemed. I was reading The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway on the bus, and as we descended into the country, Jake and Bill were off to the countryside of Spain for a fishing trip. The good-hearted, masculine dialogue set me off in a good mood, but that poor bastard Robert Cohn really needs to get a life.
Off the bus, I had chatted with a couple from England, and they invited me to come with them to the guest house. I opted for a room alone, $3, but nonetheless I had some buddies in the same compound as I. I was comfortable in this town right away, and chatted it up with the Belgiuns at the bar. I have not been this chatty so far, but its working out nicely.
I plan to do some trekking soon, and in no time at all I shall be heading overland through Laos and into Vietnam. I am happy to finally be off the main tourist trail, Pai attracts a hippier crowd, much like myself. I wish you all good cheer and do not be too worried about the previous entry. It was a sad thing to back out on those monks, but it is passed, and I look happily to the road ahead.
Tags: Thailand, Laos, Vietnam 2006
bumwaiter
You’re a budding Hemingway yourself. It’s a delight to read your postings. And don’t you like how what you’re reading informs your travels? The mood of the book makes its way into your own mood as you travel and it enhances your perceptions. And vice versa: Who you’re meeting, what you’re feeling and what you’re seeing on your adventure add richness to the novel.
Onward!