Saturday, November 17, 2007
Friday, 10.26: Chiang Dao
We were supposed to be in Chiang Dao (about an hour and a half north of Chiang Mai) at 2:00 for an elephant/bamboo rafting tour we’d booked, so we wanted to catch the bus there by noon, just to be on the safe side. So after eating a leisurely and delicious breakfast (banana pancake…mmm) at Julie’s, we headed out to the main road and caught a tuk-tuk to the bus station. We happened to arrive just as the bus was getting ready to leave, so we were able to buy tickets and climb on board just before it pulled out of the station.
The bus was…interesting, to say the least. First of all, it was very colorful with its green walls, silver ceiling and red light fixtures. And the seats were quite small—Bri and I were a bit cramped sitting in one of the two-seat rows, but after almost a full week of traveling together, we were more than used to close quarters by that time. We were also impressed by how efficient the bus was—although we made several stops to pick people up alongside the road, we arrived in Chiang Dao exactly an hour and a half after we’d left Chiang Mai.
Once we got off the bus in Chiang Dao, we could immediately tell things were different. Other than a couple of other backpackers who had gotten off the bus with us, we were the only farangs around, a fact that was all too apparent when we decided to get something to eat. We walked into a restaurant along the main drag where they had some sort of buffet lunch sitting out, but we weren’t quite sure how it all worked. Should we order from the people at the buffet? Wait for someone to take our order? What we ended up doing was sitting down at a table and looking around helplessly for a little while until finally a woman who spoke a tiny bit of English came over to help us. With her tiny bit of English and my tiny bit of Thai, we were able to order plates of chicken curry and rice, and bottles of water. When we got up to pay, we finally figured out how the system worked (there were little colored cards you were supposed to pick up when you came in, which you then gave to the buffet people, who would deliver your food to your table). Anyway. While we were eating, a songthaew driver had approached our table and offered to take us to the Nest, so after we paid our bill, we went across the street and got in his truck. We started along the road, but after about 100 yards, he stopped, got out of the truck, and came back to tell us something. I had to ask him to repeat himself several times before I realized what he was saying, but thanks to my considerable research, I finally realized that he was listing off names of hill tribes, and offering to take us on a hill tribe tour on our way to the Nest. I told him that no, we only wanted to go to the Nest, and he took us the rest of the way without any further upsell attempts.
When we arrived at the Nest, we headed toward the open-air dining area, where most of the action seemed to be taking place. It was there that we met Wicha, the owner, who dispatched one of her staff members to get our bungalow ready for us. We waited for a few minutes near the fire pit, taking in the unbelievably gorgeous mountain scenery, before being shown to our room. It was, in a word, fabulous. The beds were soft (a rarity in Thailand—Wicha later told us she’d had to special-order the mattresses), with plush down comforters, there was a little box on our dresser filled with handmade soap and shampoo, and the bathroom had an actual shower, delineated from the rest of the room not only by a small step down in the floor, but also by a shower curtain, which we already considered a luxury, having spent the past few days showering over the toilet, as is the custom in Thailand. (It’s an efficient system, I’ll grant you, but a messy one. It took me a while to adjust my perspective to view the bathroom not as a bathroom, but as a shower stall that just happened to have a sink and toilet in it.) Anyway, suffice it to say that it was love at first sight between us and the Nest.
There was one piece of bad news, though—apparently there had been some miscommunication about our elephant/rafting tour and, since the elephants were out playing for the day, we weren’t going to be able to go that afternoon. We rescheduled for the next morning, and after a quick drink (banana smoothie for me, iced coffee for Bri), we set out to explore the surrounding area with the aid of a hand-drawn map that Wicha had given us when we checked in. We started by looking for a “nature trail” that would take us roughly from the Nest to the area’s biggest attraction, the Chiang Dao cave. After initially heading the wrong way, we figured out our mistake and got back on the right path. However, the nature trail, despite being marked by a large sign, didn’t seem to be much of a trail. After a few feet of trying to push our way through the jungle-y undergrowth, we decided it didn’t seem worth the fuss and decided to just walk along the road instead.
First, we headed to a monastery at the end of the road that Wicha’s map assured us was very beautiful. Which it was, but it was also very, very small. In fact, I don’t believe we saw the actual monastery, but rather just a small temple outside of it. There seemed to be more to it behind a gate, but the gate appeared to have some sort of “Do Not Enter” sign on it, and we weren’t sure whether that pertained just to car traffic or also to curious and somewhat ill-attired American girls. We decided not to risk it, and headed back down the road in the direction of the cave. It was there that we met our newest friend, Hermie the Worm-Eating Dog, named after one of our favorite songs from our camp days, “Hermie the Worm.” When we first came upon Hermie, he was eating dried worms off the road. In fact, every time we came upon Hermie, he was either doing this or just sitting on the side of the road (probably counting the minutes until his next dried-worm meal.) Curiously, Hermie only seemed to like the dried worms, not the fresh ones—on a walk the next morning, I tried to point him in the direction of several live worms, but he was having none of it. He must’ve seen that Ron Popeil food dehydrator infomercial as many times as I have.
As we walked along, we noted that one of the landmarks on Wicha’s map was described simply as “Carl’s House.” We had no idea who Carl was or why Wicha felt the need to tell us the location of his house, but we had great fun arguing about which house might be his. (“Do you think that’s it? I think Carl might have a garden like that.” “No, there’s a blue polo shirt outside. Carl doesn’t seem like the type to wear a blue polo shirt.”) We got lost a couple more times trying to find various landmarks, and finally ended up at what the map referred to as a “1,000-year-old chedi.” Near the chedi, we saw a dirt road leading up into the woods, and we decided to follow it, thinking it might lead to the cave. Instead, it dead-ended in a clearing, where we saw a monk walking around amongst a pack of dogs. Bri wanted to take a picture of the monk, but wasn’t sure she should, which led us to make a Steve Irwin-style video (“Here we see a monk in his natural habitat…) of the moment instead. After making a few more random videos, we headed back out to the main road.
We passed a couple of ramshackle roadside convenience stores, and decided to stop at one to get a snack and something to drink. The total for two snack cakes and one drink came to 24 baht, but digging through our pockets, we could only come up with 23. I motioned for Bri to put the juice she’d selected back and pick out something cheaper, but before she could, the shopkeeper made a gesture indicating that it was OK. We thanked her and apologized and went on her way, but I felt bad about it. I mean, I doubt that one baht was going to make or break her, but I just felt that she shouldn’t be the one getting the raw end of that deal, you know? Anyway, we pressed on and finally managed to find the entrance to the cave, but by that time it was getting too late to go in. Instead, we just took a few pictures of the ruins and temples surrounding it and then started the trek back to the Nest.
As soon as we arrived, Wicha greeted us by saying, “Want to try some local whiskey?” What could we say to that but yes? She pointed us in the direction of the construction workers who had been adding on to the property—clearly they had just gotten off of work and were celebrating with a little of the aforementioned local whiskey. They poured Bri and me each large tumblers, then motioned that we were supposed to drink it all in one gulp. I looked at my tumbler—which contained at least three or four regular shots—skeptically, but they egged us on. I had to stop about three-quarters of the way through and regroup, but Bri downed hers like a champ, and even took another tumbler-full when they offered. I politely refused, however, as my throat and stomach were still burning from my first gulp.
Thanking the construction workers, we headed back to our room to take showers and kill some time before dinner. After a few games of cards, we decided to head for the dining area, where we had an absolutely amazing dinner. Seriously, this was the kind of dinner I usually only eat if someone else is paying for it, because otherwise I’d die of sticker shock when the bill arrived. But we were in Thailand, so the whole three-course meal cost less than $30 for both of us. We both had butternut squash soup and fresh bread dipped in olive oil and balsalmic vinegar to start; for her entrée, Bri had steak in roasted garlic sauce with fries, and I had blue-cheese-stuffed pork tenderloin in white wine sauce. And although we were nearly stuffed, we couldn’t resist dessert—chocolate cheesecake for me (it almost edged out the Pasta Factory, but not quite), and devil’s food cake with ice cream for Bri. Needless to say, there wasn’t much to do after dinner but roll our exhausted and food-comatose bodies into bed.
Continue to Day 6, Chiang Dao to Chiang Mai
We were supposed to be in Chiang Dao (about an hour and a half north of Chiang Mai) at 2:00 for an elephant/bamboo rafting tour we’d booked, so we wanted to catch the bus there by noon, just to be on the safe side. So after eating a leisurely and delicious breakfast (banana pancake…mmm) at Julie’s, we headed out to the main road and caught a tuk-tuk to the bus station. We happened to arrive just as the bus was getting ready to leave, so we were able to buy tickets and climb on board just before it pulled out of the station.
The bus was…interesting, to say the least. First of all, it was very colorful with its green walls, silver ceiling and red light fixtures. And the seats were quite small—Bri and I were a bit cramped sitting in one of the two-seat rows, but after almost a full week of traveling together, we were more than used to close quarters by that time. We were also impressed by how efficient the bus was—although we made several stops to pick people up alongside the road, we arrived in Chiang Dao exactly an hour and a half after we’d left Chiang Mai.
Once we got off the bus in Chiang Dao, we could immediately tell things were different. Other than a couple of other backpackers who had gotten off the bus with us, we were the only farangs around, a fact that was all too apparent when we decided to get something to eat. We walked into a restaurant along the main drag where they had some sort of buffet lunch sitting out, but we weren’t quite sure how it all worked. Should we order from the people at the buffet? Wait for someone to take our order? What we ended up doing was sitting down at a table and looking around helplessly for a little while until finally a woman who spoke a tiny bit of English came over to help us. With her tiny bit of English and my tiny bit of Thai, we were able to order plates of chicken curry and rice, and bottles of water. When we got up to pay, we finally figured out how the system worked (there were little colored cards you were supposed to pick up when you came in, which you then gave to the buffet people, who would deliver your food to your table). Anyway. While we were eating, a songthaew driver had approached our table and offered to take us to the Nest, so after we paid our bill, we went across the street and got in his truck. We started along the road, but after about 100 yards, he stopped, got out of the truck, and came back to tell us something. I had to ask him to repeat himself several times before I realized what he was saying, but thanks to my considerable research, I finally realized that he was listing off names of hill tribes, and offering to take us on a hill tribe tour on our way to the Nest. I told him that no, we only wanted to go to the Nest, and he took us the rest of the way without any further upsell attempts.
When we arrived at the Nest, we headed toward the open-air dining area, where most of the action seemed to be taking place. It was there that we met Wicha, the owner, who dispatched one of her staff members to get our bungalow ready for us. We waited for a few minutes near the fire pit, taking in the unbelievably gorgeous mountain scenery, before being shown to our room. It was, in a word, fabulous. The beds were soft (a rarity in Thailand—Wicha later told us she’d had to special-order the mattresses), with plush down comforters, there was a little box on our dresser filled with handmade soap and shampoo, and the bathroom had an actual shower, delineated from the rest of the room not only by a small step down in the floor, but also by a shower curtain, which we already considered a luxury, having spent the past few days showering over the toilet, as is the custom in Thailand. (It’s an efficient system, I’ll grant you, but a messy one. It took me a while to adjust my perspective to view the bathroom not as a bathroom, but as a shower stall that just happened to have a sink and toilet in it.) Anyway, suffice it to say that it was love at first sight between us and the Nest.
There was one piece of bad news, though—apparently there had been some miscommunication about our elephant/rafting tour and, since the elephants were out playing for the day, we weren’t going to be able to go that afternoon. We rescheduled for the next morning, and after a quick drink (banana smoothie for me, iced coffee for Bri), we set out to explore the surrounding area with the aid of a hand-drawn map that Wicha had given us when we checked in. We started by looking for a “nature trail” that would take us roughly from the Nest to the area’s biggest attraction, the Chiang Dao cave. After initially heading the wrong way, we figured out our mistake and got back on the right path. However, the nature trail, despite being marked by a large sign, didn’t seem to be much of a trail. After a few feet of trying to push our way through the jungle-y undergrowth, we decided it didn’t seem worth the fuss and decided to just walk along the road instead.
First, we headed to a monastery at the end of the road that Wicha’s map assured us was very beautiful. Which it was, but it was also very, very small. In fact, I don’t believe we saw the actual monastery, but rather just a small temple outside of it. There seemed to be more to it behind a gate, but the gate appeared to have some sort of “Do Not Enter” sign on it, and we weren’t sure whether that pertained just to car traffic or also to curious and somewhat ill-attired American girls. We decided not to risk it, and headed back down the road in the direction of the cave. It was there that we met our newest friend, Hermie the Worm-Eating Dog, named after one of our favorite songs from our camp days, “Hermie the Worm.” When we first came upon Hermie, he was eating dried worms off the road. In fact, every time we came upon Hermie, he was either doing this or just sitting on the side of the road (probably counting the minutes until his next dried-worm meal.) Curiously, Hermie only seemed to like the dried worms, not the fresh ones—on a walk the next morning, I tried to point him in the direction of several live worms, but he was having none of it. He must’ve seen that Ron Popeil food dehydrator infomercial as many times as I have.
As we walked along, we noted that one of the landmarks on Wicha’s map was described simply as “Carl’s House.” We had no idea who Carl was or why Wicha felt the need to tell us the location of his house, but we had great fun arguing about which house might be his. (“Do you think that’s it? I think Carl might have a garden like that.” “No, there’s a blue polo shirt outside. Carl doesn’t seem like the type to wear a blue polo shirt.”) We got lost a couple more times trying to find various landmarks, and finally ended up at what the map referred to as a “1,000-year-old chedi.” Near the chedi, we saw a dirt road leading up into the woods, and we decided to follow it, thinking it might lead to the cave. Instead, it dead-ended in a clearing, where we saw a monk walking around amongst a pack of dogs. Bri wanted to take a picture of the monk, but wasn’t sure she should, which led us to make a Steve Irwin-style video (“Here we see a monk in his natural habitat…) of the moment instead. After making a few more random videos, we headed back out to the main road.
We passed a couple of ramshackle roadside convenience stores, and decided to stop at one to get a snack and something to drink. The total for two snack cakes and one drink came to 24 baht, but digging through our pockets, we could only come up with 23. I motioned for Bri to put the juice she’d selected back and pick out something cheaper, but before she could, the shopkeeper made a gesture indicating that it was OK. We thanked her and apologized and went on her way, but I felt bad about it. I mean, I doubt that one baht was going to make or break her, but I just felt that she shouldn’t be the one getting the raw end of that deal, you know? Anyway, we pressed on and finally managed to find the entrance to the cave, but by that time it was getting too late to go in. Instead, we just took a few pictures of the ruins and temples surrounding it and then started the trek back to the Nest.
As soon as we arrived, Wicha greeted us by saying, “Want to try some local whiskey?” What could we say to that but yes? She pointed us in the direction of the construction workers who had been adding on to the property—clearly they had just gotten off of work and were celebrating with a little of the aforementioned local whiskey. They poured Bri and me each large tumblers, then motioned that we were supposed to drink it all in one gulp. I looked at my tumbler—which contained at least three or four regular shots—skeptically, but they egged us on. I had to stop about three-quarters of the way through and regroup, but Bri downed hers like a champ, and even took another tumbler-full when they offered. I politely refused, however, as my throat and stomach were still burning from my first gulp.
Thanking the construction workers, we headed back to our room to take showers and kill some time before dinner. After a few games of cards, we decided to head for the dining area, where we had an absolutely amazing dinner. Seriously, this was the kind of dinner I usually only eat if someone else is paying for it, because otherwise I’d die of sticker shock when the bill arrived. But we were in Thailand, so the whole three-course meal cost less than $30 for both of us. We both had butternut squash soup and fresh bread dipped in olive oil and balsalmic vinegar to start; for her entrée, Bri had steak in roasted garlic sauce with fries, and I had blue-cheese-stuffed pork tenderloin in white wine sauce. And although we were nearly stuffed, we couldn’t resist dessert—chocolate cheesecake for me (it almost edged out the Pasta Factory, but not quite), and devil’s food cake with ice cream for Bri. Needless to say, there wasn’t much to do after dinner but roll our exhausted and food-comatose bodies into bed.
Continue to Day 6, Chiang Dao to Chiang Mai
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