30th January - Thoughts on leaving Chiang Mai

Only 2 weeks until we leave Chiang Mai. Looking forward to going south to the sea, although we are both sure that when we get there we are going to want to come straight back as it is going to be very hot and very expensive!

I feel I have started to settle into a sort of routine, feeling very much how I might feel if I lived here. I couldn't live in Chiang Mai, after a time you really start to notice the dirt, pollution and poverty everywhere and it starts to get you down.

The people are lovely and deserve better politicians. Chiang Mai is run by the mafia according to an article in the 'Chiang Mai News'.

My masseur Mr Nat has two children, a daughter Meeou (12) and a son Mark (10). He was born in Chiang Mai but moved to Gunthep (Bangkok) and trained as a masseur there. He married and had children but his wife left him and the children. He has brought up both children on his own, how? I am struck dumb with admiration.

l-r: Mr Nat (my hero), Mr Hoo (who started it all) and Mr Mark (trying to look supple).

He wants 'Meeou' to go to the Catholic School and is working all hours to give her extra lessons so she can pass the entrance exam. He is very worried, "The fees are very high but I want her to go there so she can make friends with people from 'better' families who have contacts, so she can get a good job" - it made me feel so depressed and angry at the way we in the West impose our materialistic vision on the world. This from a man who works miracles every day 7 days a week 9am - 10pm (that's 13 hours a day) for 125 baht an hour (I think there is family around to look after the children and they are often at the massage 'parlour' (that just doesn't seem the right word does it?).

On one occasion Sue came to observe, it happened to be quite a painful massage for me, I had just been ill and probably shouldn't have gone. At one point he started to sing quietly, it must have been a traditional Thai song because the others soon joined in. It was very quiet and peaceful for a while, just 3 blind people massaging and singing softly, I could feel myself getting quite emotional.

Mr Nat shouldn't have to worry about money, he is doing something that people really appreciate (all the Westerners love him and heap praise on him "my God I feel so wonderful - thank you") and he has all he wants. If any man I have met has inner peace it is him. When I look around and see the poverty I can understand why he is so desperate for his daughter to 'escape', but it is such a shame. I asked him if he listened to music, he has a cd player and some cds but literally he has no time to listen to them!

It feels like the end of something to me at the moment, we have spent all this time just the two of us and when we move south we will be meeting up with people from home, something we are both really looking forward to but I know that at that point I will have reached the bottom of our dive into the unknown and will be starting the slow decompression process towards the surface and England.

Sue ;- the local (so close!).

99% of the time Sue hasn't got a clue where we are or where we are going, sometimes she is so far out I think she is joking. But, for that other 1% she is in control. We hired bikes from the guest house and went to our favourite internet cafe, a journey we have done pretty well every day for the last 4 weeks. On the way home Sue took the lead. Off she set, back ramrod straight (the bikes are the 'sit up and beg' type) with me a bikes length behind and slightly further out into the road to make cars and motorbikes give her a wide berth, I was reminded of a galleon with it's escort vessel. The pace would best be described as sedate.

Squeak...squeak go the pedals, head held high, snooty looks left and right - Huh, look at him he hasn't got a clue where he is........ Huh, bloody tourists.......Huh, when he's been here as long as I have..... squeak...squeak... left.....squeak..... squeak... right ....surreptitious glance behind to check she is going the right way, she doesn't think I notice but each glance is invariably accompanied by a wobble and as any physicist worth his salt will tell you, the slower you go, the bigger the wobble.

Squeak....squeak.... straight on (she should have gone right and then left if she wanted to follow are usual route) squeak.....squeak.......more anxious glances from left to right, squeak ...... squeeek ...... squeeeeek ..... stop. By now it's dark and there is nobody about except for a pack of stray dogs loitering near a menacing looking wall (the prison).... err, where are we! Shame, if she had kept her nerve and taken a right and then a left we would have been in familiar territory. So close!

Mark the local (so close!).

We hired a motorbike to go to Hang Dong. On the way back there were traffic lights about every half km and the cars were nose to tail all the way down. Hundreds of motor bikes had great fun though weaving in and out of the stationery traffic down to the front of the queue at the lights. I felt like Dennis Hopper in Easy-Rider (babe on the back, terrified but excited at my daring and panache) as I 'flung' the bike round the cars, up pavements sometimes down the inside sometimes in the middle and sometimes down the outside looking for that small gap that would get me closer to the front.

It took me a while to understand why the motorbikes all roared off about 3 seconds before the lights changed and then I realised they were watching the other lights and as soon as they went red (no amber over here, that would just add to the confusion) they were off, very clever. And then it happened, I found myself at the front - 'Leader of the Pack' (The Shangri-las - isn't the internet great, I thought it was Diana Ross and the Supremes).

I was a bit tense whilst I waited for the light to go 'red' but the thing is to look casual and unconcerned, chatting to your 'girlfriend' whilst keeping half an eye on the light. Red!! I was away miles before anyone else reacted (hah) ........ that's funny, still no-one else has reacted and why are those motorbikes and cars roaring across my path from the left? OOps, those lights weren't for me. But, with a burst of acceleration we were through and arrived back at the guest house breathless with excitement. So close!

"I am never going on a motorbike with you again!"
(Now that's what I call acceleration - Marlon Brando to Elmer Fudd in one sentence)
"Aahh go on (was that a whine in my voice?), how else are we going to see all the sights"
"OK on one condition...."

......Later

We did the journey to San Patong and back (a round trip of about 70 Km) at a MAX speed of 30 KM per hour. Oh, the shame.

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Before we set off for Hang Dong. Anticipating heavy traffic.