LAST DAY IN THAILAND

KATY SAYS:
As I expected deep down in my heart, we were too lazy (or sleepy) to get up at 4am to make it to the top of Doi Suthep peak outside of Chiang Mai... Sorry Janice... But later in the morning, after extending our bike rental for an hour, we decided to see how far we could get. This peak is not very far from Chiang Mai town, perhaps 40 mins from our guesthouse on scooter, but the road leading up is very windy and our scooter was not very stable, so Vlad couldn't drive like a Korean pizza delivery driver. He did give it a good try though on the flat ground when we were rushing home to make our 12 o'clock pick-up in time.
Anyhow, we made it to the top, quickly climbed the steps, dinged the bells outside the temple and then realized it was 10.30 and we should be heading down again. It was a very quick trip, but confirmed that we actually needn't have gotten up at 4am anyway, because at this time of the year in Thailand, haze shrouds every hill, leaving scenic views up to your imagination.

I discovered the delights of eating sour green mango in Chiang Mai and bought some at the temple for later. It is sold in thin slices in a clear plastic bag with a stick you should use to dip the slices in sugar and chilli. I've become quite partial to it but I hope it's not what's giving me gas... :(

We then travelled in a mini-bus for four to five hours until we reached our next destination, Chiang Khong, a town way up north on the fluvial Mekong border with Laos. We can, in fact, see Laos from our guesthouse, which is reassuring, but it looks the same as Thailand at night, so we'll have to wait till tomorrow to see whether there is any immediate difference between the two countries.
The journey did have one "happening" worth telling, although it's not pleasant. Our van slowed down at one point and we all leaned forward to see why. In the centre of the road, perpendicular to the white line was a man lying with arms and legs splayed. Fresh blood seemed to be still collecting in the pool beside his head, his pants were ripped open at the front and seemed bloodied, and his eyes were open. Seeing that, I knew he must be dead, and recently. His bike was a mangled ball a metre away.
I was concerned that no-one seemed to be doing anything for the victim, but perhaps they had done all they could for him, after all, he did seem to be dead already. One man was slowing traffic through the scene. The white van involved in the accident was parked a few metres away, and the three occupants, one of whom was a Muslim lady, were standing nearby looking on with shocked expressions. Later we saw an ambulance pass, so it seems someone had done something after all.
Anyone who has lived or travelled in Thailand will no doubt have a story like this, as it seems accidents involving motorcyles are very common here because people don't wear helmets, speed and take unnecessary risks, passing at every opportunity. Vlad has frequently said to me, "Your Dad would be shocked here huh?" referring to Dad's exasperation with poor driving.
Now when I see young men and women happily speeding along to their next destination, the image of that splayed body and dented, bloody head will remind me that a pleasant trip can so easily go wrong.

Tomorrow at 8am we leave on the slow boat for Luang Prabang. I am hoping to find a charming little guesthouse in an old colonial building, perhaps one owned by a woman who studied in Russia, with weaving classes and breakfast lectures on the beauty and simplicity of Lao textiles.