How Gina Got Her Groove Back-Part One

First I must apologize for my lack of blogging during my trip. You see, I was quite literally "blogging" in my head the entire time, which probably gave the impression I suffered from acute Touret's syndrome, as I walked down the street laughing to myself and even worse, "blogging" aloud. But getting my arse to an Internet cafe when the sun was shining and there were people to watch proved to be a grueling task so I just gave-up. Therefore, I will try to channel my trip, through the haze of memory and the crinkled-up, scribbled-on bar napkins that have been suffocating at the bottom of my duffel bag for the past two weeks.

I believe I last left off after the overnight train ride to Chiang Mai, which was really quite lovely. I wish I could have been tucked into a train cabin with two cans of Tiger beer and a purple pill coming from San Francisco to Bangkok but then again, why miss out on 24 hours of China Air!?

CHIANG MAI

I walked out of the train and was greeted by a guy from BMP Guesthouse, which was to be my home for three nights. Well, not really. I decided to be extra ambitious and book a "trek" to the mountains to spend a night with natives from a tiny village or "Karen." I checked in, chucked my bag on my bed and promptly went-off for a walkabout. I walked and walked, etc, for about 7 hours. Stopping, of course, every hour for a bit of street food and a cold Chang. Finally, I arrived at a little outdoor joint called "Scott's Place" owned, obviously, by an ex-pat named...well, "Scott." As became the norm, he listed off all the things I should accomplish while there...cooking classes, massage classes at WAT POA, a visit to Old Chiang Mai, a day at Doi Inthanon, etc. As I sat there pondering the next day ahead, I realized that tromping through the woods would be a lot, and as I had a meeting with the "guides" that evening, I thought better of it and just decided to hit the famous Night Bazaar for a shopping bender. Anyone who knows me, understands that "shopping" is not on my top ten list of fun things to do, especially when haggling is involved. However, I was told that things were cheaper in the North so I planned for it.

After Scott's place, I went back to the guesthouse to find a little group gathering outside, which I assumed was the few that were trekking. There was Markus and Cornelia from Vienna, and Valerio from Italy...who was soooooooooooooo Italian. Super tan, Capri pants, espadrilles..etc. We met our guides and they gave us a list of what to bring for the trek. I had signed up for just one night and two days, but the others went for the whole three days. I was warned that the weather was colder up in the hills so I brought a hoodie and jeans, but barely took anything because I had this strong feeling that the "hike" was a typical Thai understatement. Just like the tour to the floating market, which took 6 hours and had me switching tour vans faster than changing brands of beer.

Meeting adjourned, we planned to gather in the morning at 9 so I boogied off for my adventure in the Bazaar with Valerio in-tow. Realizing that shopping alone was annoying enough, I bid V a nice "ciao" and headed off into the crowd sola to face the BAHT and impending bout of haggling, which I was dreading to no end.

Before I get to the lame way I ended up "bargaining," I must regale you with a slightly humiliating story, so I apologize in-advance if I sound crass but the details are quite relevant to the tale.. As I walked-along the streets casing my prey in my new multi-pocketed cargo pants, I realized that my travel-belly might be rearing it's ugly head and decided to make a bee-line for the nearest potty. When one is traveling in another country, one never knows about the bog situation so I found a nice mall and quickly....and I DO mean post-haste....RAN to the public toilet, which looked clean and fabulous. Ok, so I made it on-time and all was well with the universe when I looked around and discovered that, of course, there was no paper. Not that they were OUT of paper, but there was NO PAPER at all. No dispenser, no one with whom to "spare a square..." NADA. I just sat there banging my head against the wall for forgetting to bring a little roll in my pocket and wondered what the hell I was going to do. I couldn't just "wiggle" and hope for the best. I finally looked around and discovered a hose attached to the wall and it occurred to me that all of the toilet hoses I had seen were for...well, let's just call them the "ghetto bidet." So, my friends, yes indeed. I had to hose myself off and walk around with a damp bum for about 20 minutes and that is all I am ever going to say about that.

Back to my haggling skills, or lack thereof. I realized quickly I was never going to win the game, especially because I didn't know what things should really cost. I wanted to find a local and just pay them to go with me, but that would cost me too so I just took a deep breath and went for it. It never worked. Finally, I decided to play my own game of "stupid tourist" and put my cargo pants to work. I went to an Irish pub, tucked into the bathroom (which BTW had paper) and divided my money into the seven pockets, memorizing the amounts in each. I then walked up to the vendors who had what I wanted and when they offered me a price, I just feigned ignorance and pulled out less than they asked. Worked like a charm folks, and I ended up with gifts for the family and 5 fabulous sexy dresses that served me well throughout the rest of my trip!

TREKKING

The next morning we all met for coffee and toast and jumped into the back of a truck ready for adventure. We met up with an Aussie couple Ian and "B" and, after stopping for supplies, headed up into the mountains. It was a nice drive, about two hours of back roads until we ended at a trail head, greeted by a 60 year-oldvillager wearing flip-flops and carrying a hand-made wicker basket. He proved to be our Sherpa, carrying ALL of our food and supplies. We met with a second group and headed up the "hill."

I quickly picked-up on the fact that we were in for it. First of all, yet again, it wasn't quite explained that it would be a BIG HIKE, and this was coming from every single hiker. Americans, Brits, our gang and a really cute girl from Finland. I've lived in San Francisco, hiked in Pacifica for years and climbed Half-Dome so knew how to pace myself. Not so for the hung-over, de-hydrated youngsters around me. As I watched our guide "Mr. Sayan" or "Promise" lead us up hill after mountain trail, after steep crevasse in $3 flip-flops singing "Hey Jude" repeatedly without so much as breaking a sweat, I had to laugh. After 5 hours of listening to the agonizing moans of my compatriots, we finally reached the "village."

THE VILLAGE

We arrived at the "Karen" to find three huts. One, with wooden floors, used sleeping bags and mosquito nets which was to be our luxury accommodations for the evening. All of us sleeping cozily side-by-side in our sweaty, farty, snoring glory. I ran in and quickly chose the "bed" nearest the door for air and the ability to escape. I was smart enough to down a few Immodiums on the way, as I was not going to relive the earlier potty episode in the Thai wilderness. Which brings me to the second hut: yes, the potty was made of porcelain, but it was in the floor of the hut next to a bucket of water. Essentially, one must straddle said bowl standing then squatting and use said bucket to manually flush. In hut number three was a tube attached to a hose and this was the shower. I opted for an Army bath and decided to smell as I was only there for one night and johnny buzz-saw next to me was going to have to suffer because I wasn't interested. Clearly, I'm not afraid of dirt having lived at Burning Man and Reggae, but I detest cold showers and would rather attract flies than suffer that fate. Speaking of flies, well. Use your imagination.

I did meet a little five year-old girl who seemed to take a liking to me. We played Pattie-cake and made faces at each other and then I gave her a peace-chain and I guess later-on she was spotted running around the village showing it to everyone like it was the most precious thing she had. OF COURSE I GOT A TEAR! (Thanks Joe Murphy again, for your work. I ended up giving about 20 of those away. http://www.peace-chain.com/)

As most of you know, I am a camper and love the outdoors so I was fine with the entire affair. Vienna, Italy and Finland, however, were NOT. In fact, they quickly changed their plans to leave the next day and felt they weren't properly warned about the degree of difficulty. We then sprayed ourselves silly with citronella, shared a lovely meal, downed a few beers and had a great conversation. I decided to go to bed early, as I knew what lie ahead but the rest sat up all night drinking and swapping travel stories. One crazy kid even brought a bottle of Smirnoff and downed it like it was water. I'm gagging just thinking about it. The guides, as it turned out, were from the village, and through smoke-induced giggles, one told of the wedding tradition that still has me laughing. I guess, by the age of 15, a girl is supposed to chose her mate. Her family brings gifts and he is then left to decide if he is down with that and can take up to a week to give an answer. He giggled some more, as he told us that he lives in the city and wants to marry a westerner. All of us looked away quickly and I'm still not sure if he was just trying to have a laugh but it got silent quickly.

In the middle of the night, the lad next to me quickly went from "Snoring Sam" to Cuddling Charlie," but was completely unaware of the fact so I kept trying to gently move him over but he was about 6'4" and it was no use so I just lie there, face squashed up against the hut, trying to breathe. Every time I moved he followed me so I just gave up. Then, Seattle Dave (vodka boy) kept saying something about a rat eating his banana and I thought he must have been chewing opium. All in all, a pretty restful sleep but I am used to sleeping on floors. Not so much for the rest as they bitched the rest of the way down the mountain the whole next day. Poor Markus had dysentery and begged to be airlifted out of there. "Where is the nearest road, can we just get a ride?" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Sorry mate, not that kinda place.

After another 5 hours, and a lost contact lens, we were met by a truck and all of the sudden we were eating hot food, bamboo rafting (Valerio quickly stood up and tried to steer a raft, which proved disastrous) and riding elephants. I have mixed feelings about the elephant thing, so before my PETA friends get all freaked out...I felt guilty about it. But I was alone on a baby and she was so cute. Ah well, first and last time. Enough said.

We got back into town around 5 and for some odd reason, Promise, who is around 23...I think, anyway, he told me he would take me to get a nice massage. I thought "Ok, local cat...knows what he is doing, etc." He shows up an hour later on a scooter and drives me around the corner for a massage. Then, he picks me back up and says "I'll take you to the market." I thought it would be cool so he could haggle with me but then I immediately picked up on his state of mind by the state of his eyeballs and in fairness, I support the chronic but not when I'm running around a market. So, I paid him 100 BAHT and thanked him for the ride and ran off into the night.

Had an early one, back to guesthouse and packed my beautiful new gear for the next journey: Phuket and Patong Beach, which will be in the next installment of HGGHGB.

LESSONS LEARNED:

If they say it's going to be "about 44 minutes..." double it.

Bring your own T.P. ALL OF THE TIME!

Chang Beer is stronger than the others.

Swallow as much Immodium as you can before you Trek.

If you hate to haggle, my system worked brilliantly!

Stay longer up North, if you can. It's cheap and lovely. I want to go back and take massage classes. Heck, just stay longer in Thailand.