216) An Overnighter

A few days ago I left Pai and headed to Thaton. The details on how to get to Thaton were a little sketchy, but a guy at the bus station assured me what he suggested was the cheapest route.


Basically I was supposed to take a bus back down to Chiang Rai, but get off at about the half way point. Then I had to find the next bus stop and catch another bus headed up northeast to Thaton. Sounds a little bit difficult, but I got to Thaton. The only thing that didn’t work out easily was that the bus stopped before Thaton, leaving me to figure out how to get there on my own. It turned out I just needed to hop in the back of a truck (there are covered trucks that take certain routes- similar to a bus) and the truck went strait to Thaton.


Thaton did not have many people around. It is situated on the Burma/Thai border right were the Maekok River comes into Thailand. I found a cheap guesthouse and mostly just hiked to some of the beautiful Buddhist temples and shrines in the mountains surrounding the town.


While there I saw a flyer for a guesthouse situated in a mountain tribe village. They offered a pick up service from town (Chiang Rai), or it was possible to reach via a 3km hike from some hot springs. There is a boat that will go from Thaton to Chiang Rai, or if you choose you can get off at the hot springs. The boat ride was supposed to be beautiful, so I decided to get off at the hot springs and hike the 3km to the guesthouse. The flyer says “Easy to get to…Hard to leave”. When I got off the boat it seemed it would be that case as there was a big building that said “Visitor Center” and the hot springs were actually a national park. I envisioned getting simple directions from the visitor center and having a nice hike up to the village and then eat lunch and etc. As it turns out I was largely mistaken.


The first huge mistake I made was accidentally leaving my water where I got off the boat. I found the visitor center to be abandoned and then went to ask some workers directions to the village only to find they don’t speak any English- although I was pointed in a vague direction (this would become an all too familiar point I learned not to trust and really despise). So I went in the vague direction and after a few minutes decided to find another person to ask. So I headed back and asked a lady who was working the gate, she again pointed me in a vague direction and indicated the road would be dirt. I found the dirt road and started walking it and kept going only to find I wandered about 2km past the turn off for the village.


So I went back to the turn off I was supposed to have taken- this went pretty much strait up hill. I eventually saw a boy herding some water buffalo and I asked him about a guest house- he gestured to keep going up. Finally I wondered into a village, thinking this might be the one with a guesthouse I started to ask around. Mostly I was just stared at or ignored- not the reaction I was looking for. Finally someone told me to keep going up- this is where both the dirt road and village stopped and a path kept going.


On the path met a couple people going the opposite way (back to the village) carrying giant baskets of leaves. Only one person acknowledged me, and it was as simple as this: he glanced at me, chuckled once and kept walking. At this point I started to become both worried and frustrated with this situation and the people I was seeing- but overall still hopeful of reaching the guesthouse.


Finally I ran into another person who gave me some more directions in the form of a vague gesture up another mountain. At this point there was a very clear decision to be made. It was in the afternoon and I had not eaten or had anything to drink since breakfast, I was sure if I turned back now I could get back to the park entrance before dark, although I do not know what I would do there or if it would be open. Or I could keep on going in hopes of finding the village that everyone I encountered told me was up this mountain or that. And I had already contacted the guesthouse and reserved a room for that night.

I decided to keep going, sure that I would find it soon, and looking forward to some food and water and a comfortable bed to sleep in. After a few more hours of hiking and backtracking and not seeing anyone for a couple hours I started to get pretty worried. I also started to note places I could get back to incase I needed to spend the night in the jungle. There were a few places that had previously hosted campfires and probably people for a night, and I knew I could get back to them in the dark if need be.

Eventually I found myself in some sort of orchard, and then came upon a woman bathing in a small creek- and then I could see a man nearby. This was a little bit alarming, but the woman showed no shame and the man smiled at me. So I went over and tried to see if they knew where the village was and he gestured back- this was the first time in knew I gone too far, and was pointed back. So in the fading daylight I headed back and searched out all of the various paths until I became sure there was no way I was going to find this place before night came- and I was not going to hike through the Thai jungle at night.

I went back to the man and woman who had a tent near the orchard getting there just as it became dark. I must have looked horrible after hiking all day- I was completely drenched in sweat and exhausted after hiking all day up and down mountains in the heat with no food or water. The woman gestured I could sleep with them, and the man brought out a pillow and some blankets. So I bathed in the creek and then organized my stuff.

Their camp (house) was very simple, just a tent under a tin roof, a motorcycle (I don’t know what they were doing with the motorcycle or how it got there) and a fire and some supplies. I saw the man (Ahlow) had a bag of tobacco and some rolling papers, so I pulled out some cigars and offered him one of my best. So before dinner Ahlow and I smoked a cigar and his wife prepared the meal.

The woman also hacked up a big piece of bamboo and made me a cup, and then they brewed some tea in a larger tube of bamboo. Dinner that night consisted of a large pot of rice, some kind of potato stew and a bowl of bee larva. Being extremely hungry I was not a discriminate eater and took what they gave me, and it was actually pretty good.

I didn’t really sleep well that night- under a blanket and tin roof in the middle of the jungle with what looked like an approach of a big storm. Lightning was all over all night, but it only rained a little bit. The next morning Ahlow pulled out a carefully packaged bag and tenderly opened up. It turned out to be the biggest bag of weed I have ever seen, and he indicated it made breakfast better and he rolled up a fat one.

We ate the same thing we had for dinner the night before- and I watched as he got the larva out of the honeycomb. It was pretty interesting, they must have gotten a whole beehive and sliced it up into flat sections. Then they roasted the flat sections over the fire killing the bees and opening their individual honeycombs. Then they knock them out of the little honeycombs and put them into a banana leaf and roast them on some coals.

After breakfast Ahlow offered to take me to the guesthouse personally, and I made sure he took me right to the person in charge, not willing to take anymore chances wondering around. Before he left I slipped Ahlow some money- I knew he wanted it and more importantly needed it. He and his wife both looked pretty malnourished and obviously lived very basic lives, so I was happy to do it.

Finally at the guesthouse I took a long shower and ate a huge banana pancake before taking a nap on the nice soft mattress I have been longing for.