A great month wandering Thailand - Seattle, WA
Seattle, WA
And then one day it came time for my Thailand dream. I packed my backpack, my journal, my guidebook and headed for SeaTac airport. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my body. I got to the gate of EVA Airlines, the national carrier of Taiwan. I was scared and happy, at 2AM I got on the plane. The plane, as you might expect, was filled with Asian people. There were a few travelers, aid workers and me. I sat down; there were smiling people all around me.
The plane was huge, a double aisled wide body jet. The flight attendants looked lovely and were dressed in smart green uniforms. They asked me "Western or Asian meal". I said “Asian” of course. I still remember the taste of it. Beef congee, like rice porridge with little pieces of meat.
My Taiwanese seatmates grinned widely. I had been taught over the course of my life to see differences in people. At this very moment, I think something shifted in me. There was no Asian,
no Anglo. I was on a plane with great people and it was time to travel.
I visited with the people on the plane, I slept, I ate, and I read. I journaled; practiced my few words of Thai vocabulary I thought might be helpful. “Savhatdhi kop, Kop Kun kop”. I'm sure my spelling is off, these words mean “hello” and “thank you”. I still remember them to this day.
After 12 hours in the air that seemed to go by like a flash, we were on the ground in Taipei, Taiwan, my first time on Asian soil. I had a crazy idea. Even though I only had a four hour layover, I decided to go to the middle of Taipei. The officials at the airport suggested strongly that it wasn’t a good idea with the time I had. I felt invincible, I wouldn’t be stopped. I stashed my big backpack in a locker, took my daypack and headed out to the curb.
I hopped on a bus and an hour later was dropped in central Taipei in the middle of a crowded market area. There were people all around me, locals going about their business. I was the tallest and could see over all of them. People were smiling, shaking my hand, slapping me on the back.
I realized, these people are saluting me for taking a moment to come to their town, even for a short time.
I was hot and tired. There were hundreds of food stalls, all the proprietors smiling and waving me in. So many times we are taught to be wary of people trying to take advantage of us; often people don’t travel at all for that reason. I chose on little place, a tiny counter with delicious food. I sat with the owner; he brought his family over to take pictures with me. I ate, laughed; he slapped me on the back and kept saying “thank you, thank you” and bowing very low to the ground. He brought me many dishes to try, refused payment when I offered it. It was just great!
I got back on the bus, made my connection just barely and was off to Bangkok. 5 hours later
We circled from the skies and headed down on the outskirts of this sprawling metropolis. This flight to Thailand had people who looked different than the Taiwanese people. They were mostly Buddhist, very relaxed and quiet. I was on the ground, a couple hours to kill in the airport. I wandered the terminal, talked with a few locals, and had the first of many delicious coconut curries.
I headed over to the domestic terminal, I had decided to hop on a plane right away to the north of the country, save Bangkok for the end of the trip when I understood the country better and my nerves were relaxed. It was a good decision and a formula I have followed on many trips since.
I was so excited. At the gate to my flight to Chiang Rai, I was surrounded by Thai people and a few more hearty looking Western travelers. These travelers were “my people”, I could see the adventure in their eyes, people from some part of the globe who wanted to have their minds blown, dreamed a dream just like me and then were living it. We walked out the breezeway and down the stairs, had to walk across the tarmac to get on our plane. I felt the humid Thai air for the first time, a blast of sun, warmth and humidity. I skipped up the stairs and on to the plane.
Two hours later, we landed in the little town of Chiang Rai, a town of about 75,000, very close to the Laos border. I had chosen it as a place to begin my journey, brilliant idea. As I left the plane and walked across the tarmac, the skies opened up and I felt sweet strong monsoon rain on my face, passionate weather instead of Seattle drizzle. I sorted my backpack and walked out onto
the street, feeling immensely alive.
I had scoped out a little hostel in my guide book, the books are great for getting tips from people who came before you. I hopped in a motorized scooter with a canopy on the back (called a tuk-tuk). I used my ten words of Thai language and local money that I had traded for in the airport. It was lush, the rain was falling heavily, huge banyan trees draping across the street.
I felt the humidity thick in the air. It was dreamy. I felt like I was slipping in and out of consciousness, dreaming a very lucid dream. I saw working elephants walking down the street with their owners. The rain was heavy; there were so many new smells in the air. I got to my hostel, walked up without a reservation.
Apparently, this small place was quite popular with backpackers; it had character, a great location and was priced fairly. The owner said he had no rooms. I asked if I could sit and have a beer. I sat on a little bench with an ice cold Singha beer, watching a little river near the guesthouse going by, tropical foliage all around me, colorful birds flitting by.
The owner came over, smiled big and said that he had found a small room for me. I opened the door, threw down my pack, pulled the mosquito net over the bed as it was almost dusk. I opened my backpack, sorted through the things I had packed: energy bars, water filter, beef jerky, peanuts, and gifts for kids I knew I would meet along the way. There was something deep, very familiar about what I was doing even though I hadn’t done it in years.
It was about 9PM Thai time, I wasn’t quite sure where my body was. I went to the little bar at the hostel. As I sat alone in the night air with another beer, an Aussie woman came up; asked if she could sit down and join me for a beer. She smiled, laughed. She and her sister had just flown in from Perth and were looking to join other travelers for a jungle trek to see the hill tribes of this area. I had the same idea, fantastic.
We compared notes and dates, made a plan about what we wanted to do. We talked to the owner of the guesthouse, he called over a friend who was a guide and came from the hill tribe area. The Aussie girl’s sister was asleep; she would join us the next day. Very happy, I collapsed into a deep sleep.
The next morning, the knock on my door came early, maybe 6AM. We had a quick breakfast; I walked around this amazing fruit market next to the hostel. I saw fruits I never had seen before, most notably piles of rambutans. We stocked up on some supplies.
I met the other Aussie sister; we hopped in 2 tuk-tuks and headed ten minutes for the river port. We got out, lugged our bags over to the river and piled them into a long tail boat and we were off, putting quietly up the river headed for the hill tribe area and vast bamboo forests. 2 Aussies, me, our boatman and our guide. In a day in some year, dreams that had converged at that moment in time. It felt magical; it was time to release and trust. We were on the river and I was happy, the wind on my face, sun baking down, smiling families passing on little boats.
After a few hours, our guide and boatman stopped at the side of the river in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. I looked at him quizzically. He said “get out”, so we did. He took his machete and started hacking at a little path headed up the hill which I hadn’t even noticed. He was from these hills but hadn’t been here in some time. We threw on our packs and trudged up the steep muddy riverbank behind him.
We were headed on a four day trek across the Golden Triangle, an amazing area filled with ethnic tribes like the Lahu and Akha, elephants and thick bamboo forests. It was also famous for opium production, controlled for years by a drug lord named Khun Sa, who moved between Thailand and Cambodia to avoid capture. About this time, he was responsible for most of the heroin production in the world.
Our guide seemed to know everybody. We hiked through little villages, passing people often along the way. The terrain was rugged, brush thick and paths quite muddy and slippery from recent rain. The people seemed very friendly, we stopped often to hydrate and it was incredibly humid outside. We took our shoes off to cross multiple rivers. Our guide was pushing us hard in order to make it to a village he had planned for us to stay in. He was so small (the guide) but had incredible stamina when hiking. He was carrying food and supplies for us, constantly would stop and circle back to encourage us to push on in the sweltering heat..
Just when I was exhausted and felt I couldn’t go another step, the skies opened up and it rained a very heavy tropical rain. At this time, we were entering a thick bamboo forest but I let the rain stream over my face and re-enliven me. My hair was soaking wet. Alive I did feel, incredibly so.
We willed ourselves over a few more ridges and came to a small village near the top of a hill that would be our home for the next couple nights. As we came into the little settlement, we smelled the smells of civilization, chickens scuttled out of our way. Children with broad smiles came running out to greet us, maybe 10 or 12 of them. Before I knew it, two kids were holding my hands, leading us proudly into their village. Our guide was known here, we were going to be at home. We went up to a hut near the center of the little village, met an old man who seemed like
a village chief. Anticipating this moment, I offered him little gifts. He welcomed us with food, coconut water and people started filing around us, in a matter of minutes we were surrounded.
The next couple days, we chilled out in this little village. The setting was beautiful, surrounded by jungle and little streams. There were about 35 huts here, the people were Buddhists, very peaceful in their movements and demeanor. Bamboo, as you might expect, was used for everything. I never imagined how much it could be used for. The homes were made with solid bamboo poles, hardwoods, palm fronds. Really, this is the similar all over the world. There were split bamboo pieces stretched over bamboo poles inside. When the bamboo is thin and split, it becomes quite flexible and is actually used to form beds. This is where we slept.
Water was routed from streams into the village via cut open bamboo logs that joined with other ones, carrying the water almost a quarter mile this way. There was work but as is common in traditional communities, lots of leisure time. They didn’t have any televisions in the village, there were radios with music playing.
Two days passed by like a flash. We ate communally with them, chickens were killed, long green beans, coconut, wild meat, fish, tasty fruits. We visited a lot, used a few words that we had learned. I had never smoked a cigarette in my life. Once when walking over to the side of the village, I met two men who desperately wanted to communicate with me but couldn’t. They rolled some natural tobacco leaf into a cigarette and passed it to me. I decided that I couldn’t say no to the gesture so had a puff and smiles with them. Late one night, in a hut next to mine, I heard some elders singing in a haunting voice. I walked into a little room, smiled and sat down. They were lying down, smoking some opium and visiting. This was clearly a sacred experience to them, they invited me to join them. I did, it was a very surreal, relaxing experience. If I ever run for president, just know that I didn’t inhale J.
The Aussie girls did their own thing during the day, I just wanted to wander alone and get the feel for this place. We seemed to meet up for meals. After a couple beautiful nights under skies with a million stars, we woke up and moved the next morning refreshed to hike onward. We came down slowly out of the hills, witnessing and invited to a local funeral, seeing loads of water buffalos along the way. After five hours or so of leisurely walking, we came out of the tribal area and to a town, suddenly back in civilization.
It was a bit shocking, in front of us was a huge Buddhist Temple and hundreds of young monks in brightly colored robes. The town had giant rubber trees throughout it, just down the street we saw a little place with a sign that said in Thai language “whiskey”. Big smiles crossed our faces, we had them pour us three shots to celebrate a great journey, one extra for our guide. One shot turned into two, soon a buddy of our guide came along in a open air pickup truck. We tossed in our bags, jumped in for the two hour ride back to Chiang Rai. It felt good, oh so good on our tired bodies. I think we all three fell asleep on the way back because we were there quickly.
And then just like that we were back in Chiang Rai, at the backpackers’ hostel where we had started. It is so amazing how three or four days can be so amazing, we certainly had an incredible trip and it was time to move on. That night we had a celebratory dinner with great curries and Singha beer, joined by other backpackers who had just rolled into town. One of the great things that happens on the road in these settings, we shared information we had about where we had just been, others shared info with us about where they had been. After a great evening, I packed my bags to leave the next morning and then collapsed in a real bed to sleep.
I had an early wake up call, about 5AM. The owner of the hostel had sweetly prepared a nice fruit platter for me and some little fried dough with sugar as a surprise. They personally saw me off at about 6AM, as the tuk-tuk came down the street and shuttled me off to the local airport. I got through the check in pretty easily and soon was seated on my Thai Airways flight, no other foreigners on board.
One thing is interesting. When you fly domestically in a country, which I really enjoy, you meet people who have a bit more money and often better English language ability. The passengers on the plane peppered me with questions about where I had been, if it was safe, they wanted to hear about my adventure. When I told them I loved it and loved their country, they smiled broadly.
As the plane left the ground, I was sad to leave this lovely little place. It was time to go, though, on to the next adventure. My plane touched down about 3o minutes later in Chiang Mai, the second largest city in Thailand, I think about 1 million people. We were on the runway for about an hour, people happily got on and off, I was staying on the same plane and headed on. I was starting to learn about Buddhist people and I likes what I saw. They seemed very sweet, peaceful and non-reactive. I actually had a long visit on my next flight with a well-spoken senior Buddhist monk. He gave me some books in English which I read for the rest of my trip. To this day, I don’t consider myself a Buddhist but I love the way they think, how peaceful they are, how they seem to have rid themselves of worry, judgment, comparing. We could learn a lot from them.
Just like that, we were off, up above the clouds for a one and a half hour flight headed to the town of Phuket in the south. I had an idea of where I wanted to make it that night, wasn’t sure it could be done. There were a few Westerners on this flight, backpackers, some wealthier people from Chiang Mai headed to the lovely south and beaches that were supposed to be legendary.
Phuket is an international tourist destination, many holiday makers from Europe and other places fly in here for package beach vacations and don’t go anywhere else in Thailand. As we circled down from the sky, I could certainly understand who. The beaches and coastline were gorgeous.
We taxied in to the terminal. I got my bags and walked into the crazy onrush of taxi and tuk-tuk drivers that you associate with a real vacation place. I wasn’t going where many of the others were, I walked away from all the madness to the end of the terminal, met a man selling coconuts. He cracked one open for me and I just sat in the 11AM sun and enjoyed the taste.
I asked this guy if he knew of anyone headed south along the coast. As is often the case, if you ask, you may receive. In about 20 minutes, he had introduced me to a buddy who introduced me to another buddy, who jammed me in a minibus with about 15 other hugely smiling Thai people.
We pulled out, hugging the amazing coastline. It was hot, it was sweaty, it was packed, the music was loud, it was just perfect, you know. My adventure was continuing.
I was heading for a little port town called Krabi, the gateway to a most amazing place I had read about. After probably a four hour ride, the driver said to me “you are here”, dropped me on the main road not obviously near any town. I looked at him and said “are you sure?”. He just pointed
To the right and gestured strongly saying “Krabi, that way”. I threw on my pack, strapped it to me and started walking. After about a mile, a dude came by on a motorcycle and asked me if I wanted a lift. I hopped on and 10 minutes later, we pulled through bustling Krabi town and down to the docks. It was late in the day, all the fishermen were back and just a few boatmen around.
The sun was dropping quickly. I walked around the docks, trying to find someone to give me a ride. Most of the guys were packing up for the day, I found one guy willing to take me. It took longer to get stated as he had some engine problems. In the last colors of a splendid sunset over the Andaman Sea, we chugged away from the dock. It got even darker quickly, my boatman used his flashlight and slowed down in a few trouble spots. I think he was looking for submerged coral reefs to avoid. There longtail boats were larger than the river ones in the north but similarly designed, remarkably seaworthy. We chugged over little waves which got bigger as we pulled out of the harbor and around the bend into open water.
About 30 minutes later, as if from a dream, I could see distant mountains of where we were approaching, I place I had been dreaming about for month. My boatman chugged into the shallow waters of Hat Rai Leh, he stopped the boat and motioned for me to get out. I was confused, we were in about two feet of water. He was persistent, if there were a dock, it was nowhere in sight. I took off my sandals, strapped on my pack and dropped in the water. My boatman waved goodbye, sped back toward Krabi. I waded in about 100 yards to shore, dimly lit shacks in the distance. I finally made it to the beach stopped and sat on a log for bit and caught my breath. This was just fantastic, I had no real idea where I was going and loved it.
There were some little beach shacks and hostels, I met a local guy on a path, asked him if there were any rooms available. He motioned towards a path, said to take it to the other side of the peninsula. I walked through the little village, weary from my long day. About halfway across, I saw a few westerners sitting at a little café by the path, chatting and having beers. They asked me to have a seat and a beer with them, turned out to be a great group of travelers from all parts of the world: Aussies, Canadians, Danish, Israelis and a dude from Japan. This little place served food, they had delicious coconut curries on the table already and asked me to join them.
After a few beers and some good grub, they asked me why I had come here. I told them that I heard it was beautiful and relaxed and that there was some rock climbing I might like to try. They asked me “do you know where you are?”. I said “Rai leh beach, right”? They again asked “do you know where you are”. I was confused, they got a good laugh. They told me “you are in one of the most famous places to rockclimb on earth, we are all climbers and you will climb with us tomorrow. Just like that, it was settled. I had climbed just a tiny bit but now I would do it.
I said good night to these great new buddies, got a little room near the beach at the end of the path, settled in for a good night’s sleep. That night, I remember having fantastic dreams. The knock on my door came early the next morning, my rocklimbing mates had sorted and extra pair of climbing shoes, harness and after a quick breakfast, we were off with a group of about 15 climbers. I guess they liked to climb in the morning and late afternoon, avoiding the steaming midday sun.
As I came out of my door, I was overwhelmed with the beauty of this place. Rai Leh seemed very Jurassic Park like, lush vegetation, stunning blue water and gorgeous limestone cliffs coming down to the water. To this day, it is one of the most stunning places I have seen on earth. It is primarily a sport climbing location, all levels of difficulty. The amazing climbing routes are walkable from the guesthouses, most of them less than 10 minutes away.
My new friends gave me a crash course on the climbing here, told me to watch for a while and then I could test a rope. I was in reasonably good shape and had climbed a touch back home, so understood the basic principles. We walked out to a pretty beach spot with ropes and equipment. One of the most amazing things about this place are that most of the routes are bolted already, anchors established and maintained by the local climbing community, residents and visitors.
I quickly learned that many of these climbers would come here and climb for months, everyone seemed to know and look out for each other. The local climbing Thai guys had long hair, listened to reggae, bought and sold marijuana, looked like Rasta guys, spoke like California surfers, chilled out Buddhist Rasta climbers. I had wandered into an amazing place and was being looked after by some good people. I watched for an hour, got some coaching on belay, rock hold techniques and practiced on low hanging limestone. I loved it and was soon coaxed onto the rope. My first climb was a bit rough, I’m sure a looked a little funny. Soon, however, I took to it and never looked back. One of the toughest things for me was my finger strength, something that most people don’t develop and very much needed in climbing. I learned quickly that the legs are stronger than the arms, learned to understand leverage, keeping my body close to the rock. I had great teachers. I was hooked and would climb for the next ten days, each day getting stronger. I became so addicted to the rock during this time that I would do fingertip pull-ups each night.
So, the next ten days were filled with climbing in the morning and afternoon, great friends, food and beer. During downtime in mid-day and evening, I wandered around this beautiful place, swam in warm waters; met all kinds of great people. Because it was such a stunning place, there were lots of other travelers here, not just climbers, though that was a sizable portion. The nights were filled with stories of the day’s climbing, I was a mini celebrity at how far I had advanced in a short time. The little beach cafes and bars had live music, great food, this place was paradise.
I made friends with a great young couple from Holland, Gabe and Desiree, I still know them to this day. Gabe had been an exchange student in Boston when he was younger and his host family was a guy I knew at my university, amazing. We had great laughs and made plans to reconnect later in the trip in Bangkok. I also fell in with a few Swedish guys, a couple Germans and a raucous fun group of five or six people from Milan, Italy. I got on so well with the Italians and Germans that at the end of my ten days of climbing, we hopped on a boat together as a large group and headed off to the Phi Phi Islands, another paradise like place.
One of the greatest things about off the grid travel is that the people you find in these places are pretty damn interesting. What you think you might know of a country or certain kind of people is suddenly right in front of you. Whatever stereotypes you might have are usually broken down very quickly when another person, often over a beer, is right with you. It is fantastic.
If only all of us had the chance to be around people from all over the world, I think it would be great. People often say to me, I can’t go that far, I am scared, I can’t afford it. My answer is, loads of people spend money on all kinds of things, travel is a choice and not for everybody. I do
clearly believe, though, that travel can happen 50 miles from your house. Understanding of other cultures can happen in your local Chinatown, Hispanic market, Russian delis, right in your town.
So, off I went with the Germans and crazy fun group of Italians. As can so often happen when traveling, we had become a little family, complete with laughter, a few arguments and a common purpose to enjoy each other for a few days. The Phi Phi Islands were incredible. Having been there, the images of the tsunami hitting them a few years after we went, were horrible. We hiked, we snorkeled, we climbed, we danced, we drank, we explored caves and kayaked.
After a few days, it was time to move on. Everyone went their own way and it was good. One morning, I said a sad but happy goodbye. Lots of hugs and kisses later, I caught a local boat back to Phuket and just barely made the airport in time to catch my flight back to Bangkok. Wow, what a whirlwind it had been and there was still more to come.
And just like that, zip, zip, we were up and then landed in Bangkok, a massive, swirling city of nearly 10 million and the place of legends. I had flown through here at the beginning of my trip and now it was time to explore it. I have often done this while traveling, getting in and out of the big arrival city in the beginning of a trip, not wanting its craziness to color my getting to know it at its roots. After I have been in a place for a while and begun to understand it, I can often experience the big city with not as much trepidation, experiencing nuance and layers better.
And so it was with Bangkok. I was relaxed, knowledgeable about this country, ready to dig into this fascinating metropolis. I caught a local bus from the massive airport into the city, arriving about an hour later and being dropped on the banks of the massive Chao Phraya River. I pulled off my pack, sat down on a bench and just soaked in the vibe. It was amazing. The river was massive, huge Buddhist temples along it, riverboats humming up and down the river. They would slam into the docks, people would jump on and off and the boat would leave.
Smells, sights, noises everywhere, I loved it. I was going to have a week here, I needed to find a room and there would be plenty of time to explore later. I walked a half mile or so to a legendary backpacker area known as Khao San Rd. To this day, this is my favorite meeting places in all of my travels. Khao San Rd is a three block area filled with backpackers from all over the world. There are hostels, cafes, shops, delicious cheap food on the streets. Best of all, it is a meeting place, a place to connect and reconnect, a place to share information with fellow travelers.
More than any other place I had been in my life, this felt like home, these were my people. People come here to start adventures, end adventures, have adventures. The three block Khao San is surrounded by interesting places closeby and as much authentic local culture as you want. I shared ideas, stories, photos with other travelers. I took solo trips to all manner of temples, Chinatown, Thai boxing matched, snake farms, much time on the river.
I reconnected with the wonderful and fun Gabe and Des from Holland and saw a few other people I had met earlier in my trip. This in itself is fantastic. You can have such an amazing time meeting and getting to know someone on the other side of the world. I have shared already that some of my best lifelong friends have come from travel. To be able to see them later on the same trip is double fun. A week went by in a flash. I was up in the air and back in Seattle. Great trip!