First, I had to board a bus to Chiang Rai, a town I had no desire to stop and smell the roses is. Think the Cornwall Ontario of Thailand. I only needed to be there to connect with the local buses in the northernmost provinces. The bus was your standard Thai bus complete with an old ball mitt of a woman chewing something while literally screaming into a phone. Again, my missing ipod came to mind.
In Chiang Rai, I beelined it for the local bus station and waited for the bus to Chiang Saen to roll in. Chiang Saen was the jump off point to the Golden Triangle so I figured I'd roll through. The bus was actually a school bus complete with those maddening windows that always jammed. It also stopped every so often to drop people off by the side of the road. When it finally rolled into town, I was the only one left. I found this a little odd, but disembarked nonetheless.
Getting dropped off in a BF Nowhere town at night can be a little nerve-racking. It seemed like a ghost town, save for the glowing beacon that was the 7-eleven sign. I lumbered over to find carts with women selling fruit and meat dishes just out front. A small glimmer of activity. No one was jumping out at me trying to get me to stay at their hotel this time, so I had to find a place on my own. Thankfully "hotel" is a universal word and the Thai ladies, in typical Thai fashion, gestured up the road. I walked until the road ended at a huge river, the Mekong. Maybe you've heard of it. It hardly seemed to move. Just a long black strip cutting between orbs of light. Quite sedate. On the other side, Laos. My route for the next month would follow this river right down to it's mouth, so I didn't spend too much time in awe of it's presence.
Slugging up the road that ran along the river, I spotted some English signs. before long, I was in a guesthouse lobby. The lady in charge seemed horribly inconvenienced by my presence. Her grotesquely fat dog loved me though. As I walked to the room, I passed a whole slew of noisy-looking construction tools which had been left out for the night. A foreboding sign for sure. My room was actually a double room, but since no one else was staying there that night, I got it all to myself.
Dinner was spicy green curry. I grabbed a bottle of milk from the 7-eleven. It's been over a month since I've drank milk. Back at the hotel, a mommy cat hissed at me. A few drops of milk won her over though. Cats love me. I left specific instructions with my harpy of a desk lady to wake me up at 8am. She said that I would naturally wake up because of the roosters. I assured her that I would not. She let out that half sigh half moan sound that only lazy people make when they're asked to do something. She would make me up at 9am. Fine.
At 11am I spring out of bed. Roosters were hollering outside of my window and power tools were screaming a few meters away. My body held onto sleep like a pitbull and none of these noises were able to rouse me. I threw everything together in a huff and stormed to the front desk. "Wake up call?" I asked. "Oh, I give you call, but you sleeping and no hear". Digest that one for a bit. She didn't wake me up because I didn't wake up when she tried to wake me up. I can't even think of a metaphor that illustrates the monkeyshit lack of logic in that statement. Then, of all things, she tried to bill me for checking out after checkout time! The crazy eyes came out. I did not pay her. In fact, I left trying my best not to kick a hole in her fence on the way out.
Old Man Mekong was fully visible in the 11am sunlight. A little brown and sludgy. It's no doubt it's length, and only it's length, that brings it such fame. The town was only slightly less sleepy than the night before. Because I woke up so late, I would have to forego my trip to the Golden Triangle. If you were wondering, the Golden Triangle is the area where the borders of Thailand, Laos and Myanmar converge. More importantly, it's known for it's long history of opium production. Now, through government crop substitution programs, it has shed most of it's notoriety, but there's no shortage of museums and artifacts recalling it's sordid heyday. Anyways, I didn't go there, so I'm not sure why I bothered writing all of that. Instead, I ambled to the local bus stop to catch a ride to Chiang Khong.
Locals waited in stasis at the stop. A songthaew was there, but the way it works in a lot of small towns is that they leave only if enough people get on board. The driver was unsatisfied with the amount of people waiting so it would be a bit longer. I took the time to photograph a group of men loading up a boat bound for China. While waiting, a Thai lady was teaching her young daughter to say "hello farang" to me. "Farang" means "foreigner" in Thai, and I found it funny that saying "hello foreigner" to white people is a habit that Thai people want to pass on to their children. Soon, a kid with a bunch of boxes arrived and the driver decided he was ready to go, so he loaded us all into the back.
Like before, this bus wound through the mountains, depositing people along the way until it was just me left when it trickled into town. Also, this town was NOT Chiang Khong. To this day, I still have no idea what town it was I rolled into that day. And it was EMPTY. Like, completely. I got off at a large bus stop with rows of bamboo benches, all empty. A songthaew was perched, waiting for the seats to fill up. No one was around and it looked unlikely that I would get out anytime soon. I sighed and leaned back on a bench watching some roosters peck about at my feet. Two hours passed and I maybe saw two people pass by. I was getting restless, as I knew that the Laos border closed, but I had no idea when. Finally the driver walked up and offered to drive only me to Chiang Khong for a hefty sum. I had no choice and agreed to pay him. As we drove off, I half expected him to whistle and the entire town to emerge from hiding, all in on his elaborate scam to rob me of 400 baht.
The road bounced up and down along the Mekong. An old lady emerged from the woods and jumped on about halfway. In Chaing Khong the sun was beginning to set. I hit a bank machine so I could pay the man, then flew down to the immigration booth at the pier. I couldn't tell you a thing about Chiang Khong. I was in a hurry and flew through the departure process like I was asking for the bathroom key in an emergency. A boat sat in wait at the bottom of the hill on the river bank and I was the customer that upped the passenger count high enough to get the trip started. The border was still open it seemed.
I lifted my pack off of the boat and onto new soil. Thailand was 100% finished. A whole month it took to go from tow to top, seeing a wealth of attractions along the way. I still feel like I didn't see everything, but considering the scope of the entire trip, I'm quite glad to have scoured the place as thoroughly as I had. Now Laos had begun. New currency. No doubt new experiences.
Almost Jon, almost.
Loading up a boat bound for China, Chiang Saen.
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Some adventure, I did not venture beyond the resort Chiang Rai where I was staying but I did visit a few villages surrounding the resort.
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