Thailand 4 - Return to Chiang Mai

Chiang Mai, Thailand 
Monday 30^th & Tuesday, 31^st January, 2012

Relieved and happy to arrive back in Chiang Mai having had a safe and uneventful, if rather cramped, 4 hour journey back in a small minibus, and checked back in to the Parasol Inn. We have air con, TV, kettle, fridge, snacks, wi-fi – all the trappings of home that we had no thought of in Pai, and goodness how easily we slide into sloth. However, we feel no guilt as we watch a movie and sip tea in bed.

The next day is spent in planning and making bookings for the next part of our S. E. Asia tour - trains, planes and hotels; we are always trying to be in the moment but you always need one eye on where next, how do we get there, and where will we stay . . . let alone what we want to see when we get there, and how long we should stay. You have to think about check-in and check-out times against what time your train, bus or plane leaves, so that you can get the most out of your visit and not be sitting in a bus station for longer than necessary. Is this logistics? It's enjoyable though, because it makes you think hard about what you want, instead of perhaps just getting on a tour bus.

Over to the night market on the other side of town – out of the old city. All the stalls selling the usual stuff and perhaps not as varied and high quality as in Pai but still fun to look round.

Had a meal at our favourite restaurant near the hotel.

Detail of the Day: The cats look very fat and now we know why. As we sat eating dinner looking out on the street at the cafe opposite, a sleek white and sandy blotched cat passed by with a purposeful air and disappeared in the back door. Moments later there was a loud squeal and said cat reappeared with a large rat in its mouth and a smug flick of the tail and went back the way it had come. That's what you call feline fast food takeaway!

Then, just when one of you says: “It's Tuesday, it's quiet, we're going to Laos tomorrow, let's get an early night”, you walk round the corner and there is The Garden café with an acoustic music session going on. It's a bunch of ex-pats, our age and older, who get together on a Tuesday and sit round a long table, drink beer, play, sing and socialise.

(On Sunday nights this cafe has different bands playing and they live stream the music on www.gardenchiangmai.com from 7 p.m. Local time)

They were a mix of Canadians, Americans and British. John thought he was in heaven when they handed him and guitar and invited him to join in. (That gig-list/World Tour T shirt is going to look fantastic!) The standard was very high but they were very relaxed so the atmosphere was great. They played guitar, banjo, fiddle, harmonica and flute, playing mostly folk, blues, traditional and country.

While John got on and played music, Celia was talking to the other non-playing ex-pats. Some are living here all the time and have businesses, such as a Frenchman exporting furniture and decorative pieces who complained that the exchange rate does not suit him at the moment and that his second wife is causing him problems, all in the same sentence. Most of the group were retired and live here part of the year because the climate is nice, the living is easy, you can rent a good house relatively cheaply and the Thais are great people . . . it makes the pension go a long way.

Several of them give their time and support to charities, such as to aid the retention of traditional crafts and skills, particularly assisting women to earn money through this work rather than be drawn into the sex trade. Some support charities that give material support to people in more remote villages such as blankets, medicine, housing materials and clothing.

They were a diverse group with differing views, highlighted when two small children came in to sell single stem red roses. They were brothers of about 4 and 7 years old. The group round the table all knew them. First of all they tried to sell one to a kindly German, who said no and they left him alone. He explained to me that he always buys a rose from them on a Sunday when he is at a different café and that they know this and so don't really hassle him at this place. 


 The Frenchman would not buy and looked upset. He said that if you buy the roses then you are supporting the continuing exploitation of the children. In his words, “They are mafia”. An Englishman bought one and said he always does because he knows that they cannot go home and go to bed until they have sold each rose. The parents or whoever is running the operation are waiting on the corner for the money. The children are lovely but will try as hard as they can to get you to buy from them. The ex-pat wives know them by name and talk to them very kindly and buy roses. Having said all this, there are not a huge number of street children in Chiang Mai and we didn't see any in Pai, but that is not to say they are not there.

Anyway, the plans for an early night were rather lost in a fog of beer, wine music and chat. Celia's favourite was the charming German with his fantastic moustache, pipe, hearty laugh, perfect English and who said “damn straight” when he agreed with something that was said.