Arriving in Chiang Dao a few days ago, Blair and I made our way out of the small bus terminal built for about four buses, and onto the main road. It was hard to say whether we had passed the town center on the way in. Looking to our right down the road where the bus had come from, the small collection of buildings stood 500 meters off or so, maybe large enough to be the central hub of this tiny town. We started off in that direction in hopes of finding transportation to our lodge, which was several kilometers out.
It was lunchtime, so before getting ahead of ourselves we ducked into the first place that looked like it served food, dropped our bags, and got to it. It became apparent that our English might not serve us as well in Chiang Dao as it had in tourist laden Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Ordering was easy enough with translations in English on the menu, but when the bill came, we realized they had not charged us for a fruit shake. We tried to convey this to our server, who did not understand at all. Then she proceeded to go behind the counter and make a second shake for us. Blair and I were at a loss. I rushed over, pointed at what she was doing, saying, “No shake for us.” Pointing at our bill again, I tried to explain. She proceeded to shake her head and giggle with the other serving girl. I turned back to Blair sitting at the table, and she had lost it, laughing hard with tears in her eyes. I sat back down, laughing with Blair, and waited for round two. Turns out the shake was for another table. We just let it go and accepted the free shake, tipping a bit more than usual on the way out. Maybe you had to be there to get the humor of the whole messy situation.
Next we found an ATM, loaded up on cash, and started looking for means of transportation to Chiang Dao Nest, our lodge. We didn’t see anything. No one asking us where we were going, gone were the taxis of Bangkok and the covered pickup trucks of Chiang Mai, not even the ubiquitous tuk-tuk, which is basically a motorbike rickshaw. As we drew up to the intersection in town that would lead us out to the Nest, a man under shop awning asked if we needed a ride. We said ‘yes’ and he got on his cell phone to rally a friend to help take us out there. We were about to ride our first motorbike taxis.
His friend was long in arriving, and it began to rain. I had seen a bunch of people in Chiang Mai ride on the back of these things in the rain armed with umbrellas. I figured I should do the same and located my umbrella, ready to emulate the Thai locals. As I was trying to get my pack situated, the other driver finally arrived and swung his bike under our awning. Blair hopped on bike, and I awkwardly made my way onto the other one, my top heavy pack weighing us down awkwardly. I found grips on the side of the seat, inside my thighs, grabbed on tight and tried to juggle my closed umbrella. All that effort and the drizzle had stopped. I don’t think I could have managed an umbrella, anyway.
The ride, lasting only 15 minutes, went from pleasant, to pleasantly surreal. Within seconds, we were in the countryside, all rice paddies and wilderness. In the close distance loomed Chiang Dao Mountain, some 7,000ft high, farms butting up against it’s steep, jungled slopes. The vibrant green of everything commanded attention. I would pull my eyes away from it to make sure we were still on the road, and I would see Blair’s bike ahead of us, cruising gracefully along in this idyllic setting. The second half of the trip had is sweeping through turns seemingly meant for a motorbike. Trees cast patchy shadows on the road that Blair’s bike was happy to pass through. All of this imagery was heightened by the smell of fresh rainfall. Seriously guys, it was like a freaking movies scene, absolutely gorgeous.
That was Wednesday morning. Tonight, Blair and I are hatching plans to recreate that feeling, mostly due to an encounter with a Kiwi yesterday who highly recommended a motorbike tour around northern Thailand. Baby steps. Tomorrow we will rent a motorbike to take around Chiang Dao and if all goes well, we’ll probably look to do a weekly rental our last week in Thailand.
The rest of Chiang Dao Mountain is hiding in the clouds:
Roadside mangos(?):
Wat Tham Pha Plong, outside of Chiang Dao:
