another cliché
travel blog

I’m probably gonna take terrible pictures and have solidly vapid comments about all of them. A disproportionate share of photos will probably be of food, which unjustly, will look wholly unappealing. Elephant rides appear to be generally terrible, so we’ll be skipping that particular cliché, but everything else is fair game for recounting. Or I might just not post anything.

Awesome. Thanks body. Off to a great start.

I can’t figure out why I love taking the Larkspur ferry. Something about being completely removed from the effort of getting into the city, maybe. No traffic, no Bart trains screaming under the bay, no choice. You will end up in SF, but right now, for the next thirty minutes, you’re stuck. I know it’s more than the views of the bay, the Golden Gate, both spans of the Bay, downtown SF, because even fogged in, the charm is there. Maybe it’s lingering memories, or simply being on the water. Maybe having that much space to move around while in transit really is that luxurious. Planes, cars, and muni, even without the smell of piss, are cramped and uncomfortable. Trains are a step up. Maybe the 1800s had this travel thing figured out. Now, if only we could bring back the blimp…

Regardless of why, it was the natural choice for getting back to sf after clearing out my room, packing it into my car, and schleping it up to Sebastopol for safe keeping. Carly was beside herself when I got home, but we took off pretty quick to make San Rafael in time for dinner before the ferry. Even so, we got so caught up in the meal I had to sprint to make the ferry and missed saying a proper goodbye to my parents. Now I’ll have that on my conscience if I explode somewhere over the Pacific.

The whole trip back to SF I spent on the back deck of the ferry, soaking in the cold. Anticipation of the heat and humidity has made Alaska and the northern lights all the more appealing. The cold may kill you, but hell is probably humid. I wanted to practice being a tourist, so I snapped a couple shots of the bay. Neither the girl with the trekking pack nor the guy paid to watch us dumbasses so that we don’t jump overboard seemed to notice, so mercifully I was alone in my shame.

32 hours.

Let’s do this

OMG! I can’t believe my entire life for the next five weeks is going to fit inside that pack!

/s

It’s Thailand, not Mars. To hear it told, there are more 7-11s there than people in Bangkok. I’ve just always wanted to take a shot of my pack with everything laid down

Commentor: Elaine Sugihara Date:2015-01-14 04:17:17

Only 5 or 6 pair of underwear? Really?! And where’s your Sonicare toothbrush?! OMG, come back, you’re not packed yet! :)

First, I want you to know that I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed. How could I not be? Fifteen years ago, coming here was, for all intents and purposes, coming to the future. Everywhere I looked I saw cellphones whose least remarkable feature was polyphonic ringtones. It took two full years after I got back for phones could do more than squeak at us. Ubiquitous photo booths with facial recognition features that rival Google Hangouts today. LED displays I still haven’t seen in the US. It was incredible. And hanging out in Narita today, it’s clear you’re still an affluent, tech savvy country. Walking through the terminal is a whose who of mass market fashion: Hermès, Ferragamo, Dior, Coach, all on display like it’s Union Square. Cell phones have improved, but nothing that stands out from what we have in the U.S. Really, the only novel bit of tech I’ve come across has been vertically scrolling LED arrays, and those only because the orientation doesn’t work in English. It would seem we’ve finally achieved tech parity. And for the most part that’s cool, I get it. Flagging economy, aging workforce, increased demand in the U.S. But you need to think long and hard about what the hell happened to your vending machines.

Fifteen years ago, us ‘Muricans counted ourselves lucky if the vending machine didn’t eat our coins when we wanted to buy pretzels. Taking bills was an unreliable novelty. Your vending machines dispensed hot tea at a card swipe. (They also dispensed something called Pocari Sweat which I still haven’t figure out, but that’s neither here nor there). This is where you were at all those years ago:

This is where you are now:

I saved myself the trouble of digging through my old photo album and scanning a vending machine photo-U.S. Phones didn’t have cameras at that point

Not a damn thing has changed. Fifteen years ago in the U.S. we were thankful to have a soda explode on us because it meant that it actually dropped into the bin instead of getting stuck in the spinning coil of A5. Now we have engaging experiences with touchscreen-enabled robots that customize our bottle labels. Your’s haven’t changed. The designer in me is applauds you dedication to singularity of purpose and laser focus on doing the job right, but e child in me is pissed.

True, I still have yet to see vending machines in the US that dispense used panties, but I’m counting that as a blessing. Step up.

I watched a young woman dressed in a smartly tailored uniform stride through the restricted access door and up to the glass. Smiling, she faced the blubberous plane as it clumsily backed out of the gate. The woman waved and bowed towards…who? A coworker? Lover? Her most recent charge? Watching it felt wrong, like ogling a couple in the park. The barriers between them made the small act feel terribly intimate.

Before I could look away, she turned away and saw (caught?) me looking. I expected her to blush. Instead, she fixed her smile on me and walked back out the door. I went back to watching sumo and understanding none of it.

commentor: Rob date:2015-01-21 11:49:35

More updates!

commentor: Elaine date: 2015-01-19 01:48:00

More Cow Bell!!! (After all, it’s Day Four, your time.)
Loved your Day One post. Wiring’s so-o-o-o scary, though. Glad you opted not to swim.

Mahachulalongkornrajavidyalaya University

The university itself was a bunch of uninteresting concrete buildings running along the Chao Phraya river that separates Bangkok’s eastern and western halves.

The Fish Markets

Bangkok has an entire market dedicated to dried fish products. Everything is laid out neatly and labeled clearly but the smell is intense. Not quite bad, but definitely fishy. It was a total trip seeing food sold in such a different way than what I’m used to.

Wat Pho

One of the more famous wats in Bangkok (evidently?) it houses a massive, golden statue of the Buddha reclining (read on his death bed). The entire surrounding complex is ornately decorated and beautiful. We woke up early and happened to arrive before it was overrun by other people.

Moar Markets

We wandered through the flower markets, got coffee from an ‘underground’ coffee shop, it was in broad daylight, or at least as much as the markets ever see, and through China town to end up at the Royal Indian. Hole in the wall with fantastic food, they served the best palak paneer I’ve ever had.

Our plans caused us to overstay our free, thirty day visas, so we had to trek out to the Civil Center to get an extension. The guy on the left is King Bhumibol, who’s universally loved by everyone we’ve met. A scholar, farmer, diplomat, intellectual, and lover of both The Eagles (particularly “Hotel California”) and Bob Marley. He taught the Thai people about crop diversification, and helped the Russians further developed their agricultural practices. Putin is a big fan.

We had expected the process of extending our visas to take all afternoon, but it was surprisingly efficient. Maybe 30 minutes start to finish, despite having none of the requisite documents prepared in advance. Marinate on that, DMV.

After the Civil Center we took a bus going anywhere, and ended up at Victory Monument. Calling it a traffic circle does it a disservice. Predictably, it was huge, crowded with shops and stalls, and had all manner of food, so we checked it out.

Found this gem.

More to come

Squarespace’s blog app was shitily architected (I had a rep explain to me that because of the architecture of their cloud, offline authoring isn’t possible. When I pointed out that humans have been writing without the internet for thousands of years, he didn’t have a good response. I am disappointed), I can only write posts when I’m online. Not say, when I’m on an eight hour train ride.

We spent the afternoon walking around Silom and the Jim Thompson house. Interesting story, not worth the time. After the House though, we hung out at the Silom mall and took stock. I wanted to do that specifically to disabuse myself of the idea that Thailand is all stalls and tuk tuks. It’s not. It’s just as modern, bright, and flashy as the west.

And this cafe wouldn’t be out of place in SF.

commentor: Cindy date: 2015-01-25 07:05:09

Ronald appears to be giving the namaste blessing with, as you noted, a creepy expression. Very mixed messages. Thanks for the posts! Sorry you can only write "live" and can’t write and then upload. How quaint and old-fashioned.

The Train Market

This market lies along side/on top of railroad tracks. It’s shoulder to shoulder stretching for about a mile with vendors selling everything. If it’s edible, it’s here. All too mellow chime goes off just before the train come trundling through, and everyone calmly packs away their stall 30 seconds before it arrives, the train passes, then everything picks up where it left off. Weird.

The Floating Markets

The Floating Market sounds pretty badass, so we thought it would be cool to check out. Turns out it’s a god forsaken tourist trap, so we bailed on it in favor of coffee and people watching.

4am bus from Surat Tani to Khao Sok. Canoing down the river.

Sleep. Glorious sleep.

18km hike to the falls. A little bit of swimming, a lot of sweating.

placeholder

Night trains are the most badass things ever. So cool.

When we first arrived on the beach at Tonsai, we were unsure of what to make of it, but we damn near crawled back in the long tail. Tonsai is beautiful: humbling cliffs, seemingly impossible rock formations, crystal water, and gorgeous views. And all of it completely covered in trash.

We were speechless.

We had begun to grow used to the wear on the environment. Every excursion we’ve come back with our pockets filled with rappers. We’d even grown accustom to our guides in Khao Sok cutting down bamboo along the trail to make whistles, coffee pots, or even just because. But this was something different. Beer bottles, plastic bags, tires, and the smell of burning plastic permeate everything. It’s disgusting. Even along the beach with the on-shore wind, where it’s not sandy, it’s dead coral.

From what we’ve pieced together, no one lived in Tonsai before climbers came. Not like it was undiscovered, just that there was no reason to come out this way. But with the climbers came money, and with that the services it pays for: restaurants, bars, reliable internet. Very little infrastructure; trash still gets burned. The tourists ignore it or see it as a local problem (who wants to spend their vacation picking up trash?), and I’m sure locals have diverse perspectives on it.

Complicating all of this, they’ve just broke ground on a new resort, starting with a huge concrete wall wrapping around the perimeter. So the story goes, over the last few months banks have been repossessing all of the beach front property in Tonsai. Now it’s all in the hands of the Starwood Alliance (full disclosure, I’m proud to have several family members that are Sheraton employees). The climbers hate it (civilizations filling in all the cracks, man), while the locals seem ambivalent (and who can blame them for wanting higher cash flow?).

Ironically (if predictably), a major resort could be the best solution to the problem we climbers created. We’re the ones leaving Chang tallboys all over the jungle, while a resort can’t afford to let trash turn away customers. We’ll move on, push out further and develop new routes, hunting for that place where we can really experience nature, so long as it’s got wifi and beer.

Maybe I’ll come back in a few years, see how the resort has changed things. The rock sure isn’t going anywhere. But if I’m being honest, and as shocking as it is on arrival, writing this is probably the most I’m going to do about it. You can get used to overlooking the trash and holding your breath walking through the smoke. And the rock really is incredible.

On-sighted my first lead. It was a juggy 5.8, but I’ll take it.

This, more than anything else, was the reason I came to Thailand. Forty feet up, no gear, beautiful views, and nothing but air and water below.

![Kerry getting started on a traverse](/images/P1230438.jpg” caption=”The stoke was high “ %}

Lazy morning, followed by lots of entertaining, low key travel, capped off with a night ferry.

Hiked around the island, then started diving school. Just class work.

Met up with the last two of our group!

Spent the morning in the classroom. Learned that when scuba diving, you’re supposed to breathe underwater. Who knew?

Actually going under water for the first time was a bit weird, but after the first couple breaths it started making sense.

Class in the morning, where we learned again, that you’re supposed to breathe underwater. Then we did our first two dives. So cool!

The girls did two of their fun dives the morning, then once we were all back we grabbed dinner and called it a night. We all have to be up early tomorrow morning for our next two dives.

Last two dives this morning. Saw a turtle! The girl working the camera got a great shot of it (Finding Nemo totally nailed the stoner turtle look).

Did the tourist thing and bought the video so I can cherish the experience forever. I was worried if I didn’t buy it I wouldn’t be able to properly cherish it.

Felt exhausted, so I crashed early. Everyone else did drunken acro yoga on the beach. Not a bad day.

commentor: Cindy date: 2015-02-04 05:40:37

If you don’t have the video, the experience didn’t happen. Don’t you know that? Glad you learned it before your life never happened. BTW, what is drunken acro yoga and was my daughter a party to what sounds like debauchery?

This entire island seems to exist to help foreigners get altered. It’s bizarre.

Weird Things We Found

Rented three scooters for the six of us and went around the north west side of the island. 600 baht (~$20) and a passport for a deposit was all it cost for all three. No forms. No insurance. Some things are a bit more sane here. Unfortunately, roads aren’t one of them. Despite the small size of the island, crashes happen daily (we passed one) and the shop was clear, unless we had prior experience with scooters, we shouldn’t rent them. So, thanks dad (and mom!) for the KDX 80. Experience on that got us through the unmitigated shitshow that is driving in Thailand. No real lanes, drive on the left side, no traffic control, and pedestrians in traffic. It’s horrendous.

Other than traffic though, the scooters were really fun. We took them up to Koh Ma beach (beautiful, swankish resort beach) and spent the afternoon there. Then hiked to a couple beautiful waterfalls. Those we cool. Pics to come. Tomorrow, diving at Sail Rock, supposedly the best dive spot in the gulf of Thailand. So there’s that.

We woke up early for a prompt 7:10am pick up by Charlie, a gloriously sarcastic Brit with zero regard for your feelings. Fucking brilliant. Sail Rock Diving totally has their shit together, if I’m ever out here again I’ll definitely look them up.

Regardless of their prowess, they’re still at the mercy of the moon and tides. When we finally reached Sail Rock, conditions were rough and visibility was shit–under a half meter. It was like swimming through soup. We spent the entire dive losing and looking for each other. Twice during the dive, I was reminded that I was there to look at stuff, not just to dive. Both times it was the unexpected appearance of the urchin strewn reef that reminded me. Luckily there were no accidents, but we ended up relocating for our second dive. Visibility was still low at Thong Salad ( pronounced tong salahd) but still much improved. It all underscored how lucky we were diving on Koh Tao.

That night, we went to a party out on a floating platform in the bay. Neat gimmick but we had a good time nonetheless. Our taxi back to the hostel damn near killed someone though. A drunk idiot raced past us on a scooter, then immediately stopped and flipped a u turn. We missed him by inches. Driving in Thailand is always a bit intense, but even our taxi driver was shaken by it.

Pretty much just slept and relaxed all day. It was perfect.

Commentor: Cindy Date: 2015-02-04 05:52:16

Matt, I’m grateful for your posts. I think you edit the experience less than KC does. Or maybe we just didn’t have time during our skype to get into near-death experiences you witnessed. Then again, I’m also glad I had spoken to her after some of these posts, so I knew she had safely scootered around a crazy-traffic island with you. Thanks, from me, to your parents, too, for your scooter-skills. Or maybe KC was driving??

Woke up this morning after two hours of sleep following the full moon party. Quickly, everyone packed up the gear that had slowly exploded out of our packs over the last five days, took their last showers for a while, and got on the boat out of town. It was miserably hot, be we all agreed that however bad we felt, it was infinitely better than everyone still in their neons and body paint from last night. After a two hour ferry ride (bless aircon) we were at the port that services Surat Thani, our transfer point to Bangkok, then Chiang Mai. Unbeknownst to us, Surat Thani is actually an hour away from the port, and our ticket price included a bus from the port to the train station. Unfortunately, it also meant that our group had to split up pronto. In many ways, it was a blessing, unexpected and necessarily brief. Suddenly we went from a group back to a pair.

When Kerry and I arrived at the train station, sitting there as though they were expecting us, were Becca and Kyle. They apologized for not meeting us on Koh Phangan, which we balked at, as they clearly had more important things going on (like getting engaged).

We were in different cars, so we didn’t see them on the train, but we got breakfast with them, then said our goodbyes for the time being. That accomplished it was back on the train for another 12 hours, which passed considerably more slowly than the sleeper from Surat Thani. The train attendant even passed out in a pair of seats for a while. But seeing some of the Thai countryside was pretty cool. Reminded me of something between home and Hawaii. Sugarcane, rice, and even some corn. Familiar things. But we were glad once it ended.

From just getting off the train, Chiang Mai just felt better than Bangkok. The air seems cleaner, the streets less insane, the people more relaxed. I might just be imagining it, after 34 hours of uninterrupted travel, it wouldn’t be out of the question. But even the crepes were more crepe like, less fried and more like what you’d expect to see in France. This is gonna be good.

Dinner was the local dish, kow soi (just like it sounds, cow soy) is pretty much the best thing ever: crispy fried noodles on top of a green curry like soup with egg noodles. Double noodles. Tasty broth. Yesssssss. Washed it down with the best beer I’ve ever drank. Given it was a Chang, I’m fairly certain it was more to do with the circumstances, and not the PBR quality pale lager. But I enjoyed it no less.

We spent the day bumming around the old city, checking stuff out. Brunch was at this incredible restaurant, Blue Diamomd, that wouldn’t have been out of place in Berkeley. Vegan, gluten-free baked goods, chia seeds, and avocados everywhere. After lounging there till around two two we rolled ourselves out of there and started to explore Chiang Mai.

1. Cheese
2. A real goddamn cup of coffee (nevermind, found it)
3. Everything not being perpetually moist
4. Having the energy to do anything at three PM
5. Plumbing that can handle toilet paper
6. Feeling productive
7. Every beer that isn’t a pale lager
8. Streets smelling like piss (as opposed to sewage)
9. Drinking tap water
10. Styrofoam take out containers not existing
11. Jägerschnitzle

Commentor: Elaine date:2015-02-09 10:10:56

1. My mommy

Commentor: Elaine date:2015-02-16 01:51:51

Wait, I specifically entered this as number 12 in the list. WTF?!

When we left the hostel, our plan was to find road bikes Joe Best had mentioned the previous night and take a ride south across the river. Rob, you’ll be happy to learn, this trip, more than anything, has convinced me I should buy a bike. We spent about a half hour looking for the bike rental place before we stumbled upon Mountain Bike Chiang Mai, which ended up changing our entire stay here.

We had done a little research earlier and had been planning to stop by anyway, but The Fat Man (aka outfit owner) convinced us that today was the day to ride Doi Suthep. I ran across the parking lot to grab breakfast for Kerry and I, then we grabbed our gear. As we were getting kitted out, we picked out of The Fat Man’s palaver, “You guys are from California? You can ride with these two.” Thus, Aaron and David joined our crew. In the kind of logic serendipity (or if you’re feeling less starry eyed, emergence) dictates, not only were the two brothers from SF, but David lives maybe a mile from me in the mission.

After a rough ride to the top of Doi Suthep that left all of us feeling a little ill, we hopped on the bikes and started the ride. Turns out Aaron, in addition to formerly play for he San Jose Earthquakes, playing bass in The Neckbeard Boys, surfing, being a physicians assistant….is a badass on a mountain bike. Originally, Kerry and I had gone in asking for the most advanced course Mountain Bike Chiang Mai had, The Eliminator. It was a good thing The Fat Man shut it down because the ride we did, Old Smuggler’s Route (which, given the opium they used to grow in the fields we passed through, and the weed they still do, is appropriately named), kicked our ass. We all ate shit, though no one was really injured. And were it not for wagers of beer that we wouldn’t fall, our wallets wouldn’t have been touched either. Alas…

Aaron and our guide K started talking, which lead to Aaron joining the locals for Foosall following the ride. How they have the energy, I don’t know. I took a nap. After, we all met up for dinner at Loco Elvis, where Thor (which sounds much more like Tom than the dude with a hammer), was playing. The bar serves farang (sounds kinda like foreign) and has several respectable cover bands and karaoke. So we proceeded to tie one on and have a good night.

Waiting for breakfast just before going mountain biking, it occurred to me to text Mark (an avid mountain biker) to say “Hey, I’m doing your sport!” like I do just about every time I’m about to try something new. Then I thought, wait, what don’t my friends do? What could I do that they don’t already? Stuff that got crossed off the list quickly:

• Anything white water
• Biking (of all kinds)
• Climbing
• Horseback riding
• Yoga (of all kinds)
• Motorcycles (dirt and road)
• Triathlon (and associated sports)
• Aerial tissue/pole/general circus type stuff
• Martial arts
• Sailing
• Diving
• Snowboarding/skiing
• Kite boarding
• Surfing

The only stuff I could come up with that you all don’t do on a regular basis are the kinds of thing AD&D doesn’t cover, and I hope you don’t take up as a regular hobby.

Then I started thinking about all the other stuff you guys do, like getting your Ph. Ds, MFAs, traveling and living all across the world, starting bands, making it in showbiz, saving lives, creating things that are used by millions of people every day, governing the most powerful nation on the planet. Jesus.

You guys rock. Keep that shit up.

We rented a couple of cruisers and biked around Chiang Mai. We got lunch out in the university district at a road side stand (Thai Spicy Salad with Fired Pork, complete with surprise shrimp, papaya salad, fried pork slurry, and sausage). Heard a couple american business men talk about how unevolved Thai business culture is, and he was every bit the douche he sounds like. After lunch we checked out a couple shops down a cute little alley and did a little window shopping. All in all, just a fun day exploring.

Originally we had agreed to take it easier that night, but the best laid plans. In summary: we made new friends, new enemies, shut down one club, pulled some strings and got into a second club for free, danced a lot and upon returning to the guest house, woke up some poor schmuck with the courtesy to yell, “shut up, asshole!” Neither of us took too kindly to that (Kerry astutely pointed out:

1. that we’re not assholes
2. that (s)he had no right to call us that.

But at that we called it a night.

Waking up in a right state barely two hours after we had gone to sleep, I couldn’t face a cold shower, so I ran down stairs and used the communal shower with hot water. Kerry, a living saint, got up soon after, then quickly grabbed us roles and a slice of raisin bread. We both took naps in the red truck that came to pick us up.

The whole day was a struggle, but we made it. Massaged the hell out of some heads, necks, and shoulders. K messaged us (how amazing is it that in the space of ten years, Facebook has gone from being non-existent to having over a billion users. I know it’s the circles I ride in, but I’m unlikely to meet anyone who doesn’t have a Facebook account who didn’t consciously make the choice), so we met everyone at Loco Elvis for a round. It wasn’t a short round, but we were in bed by midnight, at least.

Woke up early, went to Blue Diamond for breakfast, massage school (back and legs) then home. We rented bikes to get out to the train station to buy tickets back to bangkok next Tuesday, way, way ahead of any need to do so.

When we got to the station though, Kerry ran to the bathroom and I tried to buy tickets. When I told he agent what I wanted, she looked at me sadly and said there was only one berth left on the train. The look of relief on the agent’s face when Kerry walked up behind me was incredible. She explained that there was plenty of room in the Women’s car on the same train, so I could take the 2nd class berth, and Kerry could take a berth in the Women’s car. Lucked out there.

Both of us were craving western food, so after purchasing tickets we had planned to head out to the university district again and score something suitably American out there. As the sun fell, we both realized it’s one thing to ride in Thailand when traffic can see you and something wholly different when it’s dark out. So we bailed on going to The Pub and instead ended up at Mad Dog Farang Food, with pizza and a meat pie, both of which exceeded expectations.

Then we actually accomplished last nights goal of getting to bed early.

Legs. All legs. Holy shit, legs. So good.

The Swan (Burmese) for dinner, then watching Thor play Loco Elvis. Or at least that’s the plan. I’m beginning to suspect Kerry and I both suffer from FOMO because with both have trouble leaving anything before we shut the fucker down.

Later

Yep, called it. After Loco Elvis, we hit up Zoe’s, danced for a bit, then stayed up talking till two.

Putting it all together

By this point we had covered the entire body, so today was focused on closing (stretching, light massage) and linking each part together. We had a short written test where we had identify ten parts of the body that are sensitive to the touch. Real hard.

Today we ran through a whole massage, start to finish. At the end of the day, we had a graduation ceremony, complete with certificates, so you know it’s official.

That night we went out to celebrate graduation. And see Thor’s girlfriend Pear play at Elvis. She’s a total badass.

The set list:

• Alanis Morrisette - What if God was One of Us
• Natalie Imbruglia - Torn
• No Doubt - Don’t Speak
• Red Hot Chili Peppers - Under the Bridge
• Pearl Jam - I’m Still Alive
• Meredith Brooks - Bitch
• Avril Levine - Complicated

We took the bus three hours north of Chiang Mai to the small town of Chiang Dao. When we told the locals we wanted to head up that way, invariably we got blank stares and were asked, “Why? There’s nothing there.” Which was exactly the point. It’s literally a stop on the side of the road, with not much else out there.

It was glorious. Stepping off the bus and walking to our huts was pretty hot, then we came across this thing:

Yeah, weird spot.

Then we got to the huts.

We got settled, rented some bikes, and started exploring.

It just so happened that the weekend we were visiting Chiang Dao was the same weekend of a Japanese hippy music festial, Shambala in your Heart. We arrived at the festival after the music had officially ended for the night, but it was a super chill scene. There was one guy raging on a harmonica with cockles tied to his ankles that was pretty cool. Sleeping arrancements for the festival were just camping out behind the stages. Someone had brought a teepee.

Honestly, at this point, I don’t remember what the friendly farang was about. But I know we had a good time.

Our last real day in Chiang Mai.

Spent the day walking around Chiang Mai, eating food, checking out shops, and just enjoying being there. We spent about an hour in a textile place where Kerry bought the better part of a bolt of cloth to make a duvet. Then, we got on the train headed to Bangkok

After basically not sleeping all night, we pulled into the Bangkok train station around 7am. I was well back on the train, while Kerry was up ahead in the Women & Children only train (which she later reported was entirely pink and purple. Shrink it and pink it, it would seem, is alive and well in the Kingdom on Thailand). Despite the weight of the extra gear, lack of sleep, and hunger, stepping off the train, I felt amazing. Just ecstatic. So as I walked towards the front of the train to find Kerry, I put in my headphones, threw on Aerosmith’s Rag Doll, and rocked. the. fuck. out.

I didn’t get awkward looks or the disaproving gaze of people attempting to avoid me. I got their wide-eyed, terror filled attention. Imagine Pharrelle’s 24 hours of happy in a city where every morning, thousands of robe-clad monks wake up before dawn to walk the streets collecting alms and blessing people. For the cultural insensitivity, I do apologize. For the Rag Doll, I do not. God help me if a more fun song was ever written. Even Kerry, when I found her, had no idea what the hell was going on until I gave her one of my headphones. Then she smiled and her whole face lit up.

After that, the hunger set in and realized we needed to eat. Our plans for the day were food, Thai massage, and a pedicure before putting Kerry on her way back to Australia, so we got on the subway to make our way towards that trendy district I wanted to check out

The laughable metal detectors at the entrance. Walking through the station, everyone stopped moving. What the shit?

Trying to ask around for breakfast. No one really having a good idea. Then we found the farm. A half acre of green and brown in the middle of urban sprawl. They had an open air cafe, gardens, chickens, goats, and at the back of the lot, a remarkably well appointed bathroom. The farm appeared to be abandoned, so after a moment’s deliberation, I grabbed my towel and toiletries and showered off. I don’t think a cold shower has ever felt so good.

While brushing my teeth, I heard an alarm clock go off and saw someone stick their head out of the hut that had escaped my notice on the way in. I had definitely just walked into someone’s bathroom and helped myself to their shower. Smooth.

After coming out refreshed, I found Kerry petting the goats, waiting for the guys sleeping on the floor in the cafe to wake up and open up shop. So we pet the goats. Eventually, two people came out of the hut, showered up, fed the chickens and goats, woke up the guys in the cafe, and opened up shop.

Kerry and I had a little food, a cup of coffee, and sat out in the sun reading and planning out the rest of the day. There was a couple restaurants we wanted to check out, and knew we’d pass a couple massage parlors on the way there, so we set that as our destination. On the way, we stopped to get some more substantial food at some carts along the side of the road. It wasn’t bad, but the meal underscored that just because something is authentic, it doesn’t mean it’s tasty.

Hunger sated, we found a massage parlor that would take us and proceeded to get to it. An hour and a half later, I was no less tense than I started and at one point had to stop the guy from injuring me. After spending a week in the only royally recognized massage school with a bunch of LMTs out for continuing education, it was a disappointment. But I guess you get what you pay for.

Following that, we wandered over to **trendy restaurant here, to find that it was closed, but had a nice conversation about slow food with several friends of the owner. They recommended we head over to a vegan japanese place, where we had lunch. It was quite delectable, but it was bitter sweet, as it was the last thing Kerry and I did before she got on the subway to the airport.

Traveling back to SF.