Snap, Cankle and Pop - Part Two

So it turns out I wasn't the only one to suffer at the hands of Chiang Mai's after hours mean streets that night. Every single other person who stayed out later after the boxing encountered the same fate, except they didn't have a guy-girl guide guiding them back. In fact, it was revealed early in the AM that AM was the swiftest to return, with a new Commonwealth record of two hours and 34 minutes; the others took considerably longer - but they were considerably drunker and were trying, in vain, to find a mysterious and hitherto unbeknownst guesthouse by the name of The Holiday Guest Village Guesthouse. This, needless to say, does not exist.

So after next-to-no sleep (but still more than the others, who made it back about 30 minutes before we left - in all reality) I packed my bags and got ready to begin the first of my treks here in SE Asia. Although I was emboldened by the others' vampiric pallors, I still felt as rough as Pop's chin and the prospect of hiking through the tropical jungle in the sweltering heat was about as attractive as a backstreet Bangkok blood transfusion. The journey to our first stop was a muted affair and centred mostly around the desire to locate and consume lots and lots of water - this was a matter of urgency and fortunately a quick stop at a garage and local market allowed for this and for strength to slowly return. Plus a good chance to look, point, laugh, gag and marvel at a traditional local market. Always strange, always wonderful.

Our first stop on the tour was at the elephant 'sanctuary'. I put this in quotes as it was far from a sanctuary for these poor beasts. It became a bit of a moral dilemma for me and I really thought I just wouldn't be able to ride along because they were clearly being mistreated. Their huge grey heads were peppered with sickle marks where the drivers used painful spikes to guide them one way or the other and while some lolloped reluctantly towards us for our ride, others were brutally chained to the ground and spent the entire time taking one step forward and another backward in a textbook example of trauma and boredom. Still, I got to feed them lickle 'nanas on the way - come on, Nelly, carry me round the forest - no! sickle, sickle The other way! I felt so bad, but thought the organisers may get offended if I didn't go and it could create a big scene. I'm so weak. Sorry, Nelly. (tender sickle)

After the elephant abuse we ate lunch, building our strength for the first part of our trek. Dutifully the heavens opened during the eats and drenched the surroundings in a deluge of biblical proportions. With this unrelenting, we took up our possessions, wrapped ourselves in more plastic than freezer-bound leftovers and made the first tentative steps into the jungle. The guide, Nop (he preferred us to pronounce it Nob - not a problem for me) wore nothing but shorts and a T-shirt and skipped and twirled his way through the monsoon conditions as we huffed and heaved behind. The initial intention was to avoid getting completely saturated, but it's funny how quickly those inherent sensibilities leave you when you slip and fall for the 3rd time. I think the phrase you eventually come to is: fuck it. Tiny rivulets of snot, sweat and rain trickled purposefully into my mouth, giving the whole experience a distinctly salty hue, but about an hour in I realised something - I was loving it!

The surroundings were intriguing at worst and breathtaking at best. I've left a pic at the top of the post for your delectation - now in cool new panoramic! The jungle was hard and, make no mistake, treacherous (one of what became a very trek-based dialogue - see also arduous and painstaking) but it was the sense of achievement felt by every one of us by the time we reached our camp for the night which spurred us on through the paddy fields of the following day and the just downright dangerously thin and slippery bamboo bridges of the next. The hiking was filled with snakes, spiders, slips, falls, swearing, rain, mud, terrifying sensations of cobwebs breaking in your face and the sure knowledge of jungle spiders on you (getoffme, getoffme!) but the evening brought bathing in waterfalls, Nop's delicious massaman curry, singing, stories and beery silliness making it all worthwhile. Add tribal villages, a sprained ankle (there's your Snap) and an allegic reaction on my left foot (and finally your Cankle) and you have a memory to be cherished forever.

Here's to you, guys, and the treacherous Thai jungle. Cheers.