Caves, bamboo and books
Pai is a traveller cliche. Imagine every tale of travel in Thailand, role it up into one place, minus the beaches and the full moon parties and you pretty much have Pai.
I am getting frustrated by the western influences everywhere, the rude tourists, the influx of people who think they are so individual and different that they are all wearing the same clothes.
Like in Vang Vieng and Luang Prabang in Laos, every few shops there are massive signs for the tours and treks you can do around the area, massage parlours and internet cafes. And Pai is still a relatively young place.
People predict that in a few years it will be too expensive for the likes of me. Bigger budget places are to be built and the town will expand to become the trekking centre of the country. At the moment it still has atmosphere, a sense of fun and that it can be adopted by the travelling community.
In some backstreets and side roads, there are small eateries such as Mama Falafal and Hiccup where Gemma and I went this evening. We lay on cushions around a low table while a few other customers drifted in and out and ate good food, with the option of putting on a movie if we felt like it or reading one of the books on the shelves around the place.
Still, it is nice to have those comforts occasionally, even if you can't afford to buy Marmite, it is nice to see the little brown jars, and the rows of Cadbury's chocolates, the Walls icecreams and even bottles of Ernest and Julio Gallo and Jacobs Creek and vastly inflated prices. And to eat filet mignon at a good steak house or to get a baguette for lunch.
Equally, there remain a few street vendors selling barbecued chicken, phad thai, pork balls and soups at the sides of the roads for reassuringly little money.
This weekend Matt and I decided to explore the area in his hire car. We got up early Saturday and drove to the World War II memorial bridge. Less dramatic and a fraction of the size of the bridge over the River Kwai, Pai's bridge has its own place in history, being part of the last link of the Thailand-Burma railway that was built by Western allied prisoners of war overseen by the Japanese.
It stands over the muddy, rushing river intact but rusty and alongside its sturdier concrete brother which is the only one still used.
A few miles up the road was Pai canyon. A brisk walk up the hill led us to a fine view of the valley and reddy brown cliffs of this natural canyon. It is not huge or particularly breathtaking, but it is peaceful and totally given over to nature. There was no one else there and it seemed like a perfect and haven for wildlife.
We continued on our route into Pai by a different route and then out towards Mae Hong Son. The road twisted out of the town and was soon bending steadily up the mountainside, where the road was punctuated by diggers clearing mudslides and large boulders which had rolled into the road.
There was even a huge King Cobra in our path which Matt cheerfully rolled over in the 4x4 before we looked back and saw it raise its head and slink off into the scrub at the side of the road.
After driving for an hour through stunning mountain ranges, we came to Lod Caves near Soppong.
We got very excited because there are three large caverns and you can take a bamboo raft between them and through some of them with a guide.
However, it being the rainy season (read wrong season to do anything but look at waterfalls), two of the caverns were inaccessible.
However, to get to the first, we had to walk alongside the fast-flowing river and follow it into the mouth of the cave. Inside, we took a long raft made up of several pieces of bamboo strapped together and punt to the other side of a pool of water. Here we disembarked and were led through a series of chambers with fascinating stalagmites and stalactites and thick columns formed when the two meet.
It was breathtaking to see small stumps rising from the floor of the cave and realise that these were the beginnings of similar formations - but thousands of years behind neighbouring pillars. Or to see a tiny drip drip of water into a small hole which the guide said would become these small stumps and then form into the columns.
Unfortunately the tour did not last long so we had to console ourselves with a drink, some noodles and a philosophical debate for a few hours, while it rained cats and dogs outside.
Later, we returned to Pai to drink wine and eat steak and drink some more wine.
On Sunday, I attempted to go to a waterfall in the mountains with Rick and two Thai friends. Jumping on the back of Jing's motorbike, sweating in the bright sunshine, I was full of hope for a fun afternoon sliding down the rocks into pools of blue water.
But as we climbed into the mountains, the sky turned an ominous grey and the peaks were hidden by swirling mists. About 500m away, it began to rain. We knew we had about two minutes to get to shelter and dived into the shelter of an open shop as the heavens opened. We sat on dusty plastic chairs next to an unsmiling woman with a towel turban, long sarong skirt and dirty white blouse who looked as old and the hills and brown as the soil.
There was nothing to do but have a drink. We decided to turn back as the path to the falls would be slippy. As we approached the valley, our clothes dried out from the hot rays of the sun. It had not been raining in town.
So the afternoon slipped away in occasional bursts of sunshine and Gemma returned from Chiang Mai. But the evening held further storms and it refused to stop raining to let us go out to eat. We were drenched despite our raincoats and shivering. In the end we had to search for hot chocolate - it was the sweetest concoction known to man but it was hot and chocolately and we were delighted to taste it.
Today, however, the sun shone down as we taught our classes the difference between 'a' and 'an' and months, days and clothes. Tomorrow I want to ride an elephant. And the week's plans include a return trip to the waterfall, hot springs, films to watch, different places to eat, new people arriving, books to read lying in a hammock in the sun...
I am getting frustrated by the western influences everywhere, the rude tourists, the influx of people who think they are so individual and different that they are all wearing the same clothes.
Like in Vang Vieng and Luang Prabang in Laos, every few shops there are massive signs for the tours and treks you can do around the area, massage parlours and internet cafes. And Pai is still a relatively young place.
People predict that in a few years it will be too expensive for the likes of me. Bigger budget places are to be built and the town will expand to become the trekking centre of the country. At the moment it still has atmosphere, a sense of fun and that it can be adopted by the travelling community.
In some backstreets and side roads, there are small eateries such as Mama Falafal and Hiccup where Gemma and I went this evening. We lay on cushions around a low table while a few other customers drifted in and out and ate good food, with the option of putting on a movie if we felt like it or reading one of the books on the shelves around the place.
Still, it is nice to have those comforts occasionally, even if you can't afford to buy Marmite, it is nice to see the little brown jars, and the rows of Cadbury's chocolates, the Walls icecreams and even bottles of Ernest and Julio Gallo and Jacobs Creek and vastly inflated prices. And to eat filet mignon at a good steak house or to get a baguette for lunch.
Equally, there remain a few street vendors selling barbecued chicken, phad thai, pork balls and soups at the sides of the roads for reassuringly little money.
This weekend Matt and I decided to explore the area in his hire car. We got up early Saturday and drove to the World War II memorial bridge. Less dramatic and a fraction of the size of the bridge over the River Kwai, Pai's bridge has its own place in history, being part of the last link of the Thailand-Burma railway that was built by Western allied prisoners of war overseen by the Japanese.
It stands over the muddy, rushing river intact but rusty and alongside its sturdier concrete brother which is the only one still used.
A few miles up the road was Pai canyon. A brisk walk up the hill led us to a fine view of the valley and reddy brown cliffs of this natural canyon. It is not huge or particularly breathtaking, but it is peaceful and totally given over to nature. There was no one else there and it seemed like a perfect and haven for wildlife.
We continued on our route into Pai by a different route and then out towards Mae Hong Son. The road twisted out of the town and was soon bending steadily up the mountainside, where the road was punctuated by diggers clearing mudslides and large boulders which had rolled into the road.
There was even a huge King Cobra in our path which Matt cheerfully rolled over in the 4x4 before we looked back and saw it raise its head and slink off into the scrub at the side of the road.
After driving for an hour through stunning mountain ranges, we came to Lod Caves near Soppong.
We got very excited because there are three large caverns and you can take a bamboo raft between them and through some of them with a guide.
However, it being the rainy season (read wrong season to do anything but look at waterfalls), two of the caverns were inaccessible.
However, to get to the first, we had to walk alongside the fast-flowing river and follow it into the mouth of the cave. Inside, we took a long raft made up of several pieces of bamboo strapped together and punt to the other side of a pool of water. Here we disembarked and were led through a series of chambers with fascinating stalagmites and stalactites and thick columns formed when the two meet.
It was breathtaking to see small stumps rising from the floor of the cave and realise that these were the beginnings of similar formations - but thousands of years behind neighbouring pillars. Or to see a tiny drip drip of water into a small hole which the guide said would become these small stumps and then form into the columns.
Unfortunately the tour did not last long so we had to console ourselves with a drink, some noodles and a philosophical debate for a few hours, while it rained cats and dogs outside.
Later, we returned to Pai to drink wine and eat steak and drink some more wine.
On Sunday, I attempted to go to a waterfall in the mountains with Rick and two Thai friends. Jumping on the back of Jing's motorbike, sweating in the bright sunshine, I was full of hope for a fun afternoon sliding down the rocks into pools of blue water.
But as we climbed into the mountains, the sky turned an ominous grey and the peaks were hidden by swirling mists. About 500m away, it began to rain. We knew we had about two minutes to get to shelter and dived into the shelter of an open shop as the heavens opened. We sat on dusty plastic chairs next to an unsmiling woman with a towel turban, long sarong skirt and dirty white blouse who looked as old and the hills and brown as the soil.
There was nothing to do but have a drink. We decided to turn back as the path to the falls would be slippy. As we approached the valley, our clothes dried out from the hot rays of the sun. It had not been raining in town.
So the afternoon slipped away in occasional bursts of sunshine and Gemma returned from Chiang Mai. But the evening held further storms and it refused to stop raining to let us go out to eat. We were drenched despite our raincoats and shivering. In the end we had to search for hot chocolate - it was the sweetest concoction known to man but it was hot and chocolately and we were delighted to taste it.
Today, however, the sun shone down as we taught our classes the difference between 'a' and 'an' and months, days and clothes. Tomorrow I want to ride an elephant. And the week's plans include a return trip to the waterfall, hot springs, films to watch, different places to eat, new people arriving, books to read lying in a hammock in the sun...
posted by charlie at 12:23 am
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