Arrival In Chiang Mai

I stepped onto my 11 hour train to Chiang Mai with plenty of time to spare. The 11 hours, however, turned into 14. The train set off late and arrived even later! Nevertheless I enjoyed the trip, and being a night train I would sleep for most of the way. I was expecting my carriage to be full of fellow travellers, but initially I appeared to be surrounded by Thais. This included a man who was dressed like an Army General on the other side of the carriage. It was the man in front of me, however, who decided to break the ice. It turns out that he was a Korean man very fluent in English. He apparently once lived in Bournemouth and took great pleasure in telling me the story of how his house was once burgled. The Army General also appeared to be enjoying our conversation!

A little later I began chatting with a South African family. As I lent them my guide book, the train pulled up at a station. The General, who I had spoken barely two words to, had come to the conclusion that I deserved a little present! "For you" he exclaimed, handing me my gift. Partly stunned by the sudden act of kindness, and partly knocked back by the fact that I was suddenly holding a barely used toilet roll in my palms, I blurted out a 'thank you' and allowed the officer to depart, smugness intact. I already was carrying a toilet roll, and once he left the carriage I casually placed his roll onto the upper luggage compartment and returned to the South Africans. Shortly after this we retired to bed.

When we arrived in Chiang Mai I said my farewells and good lucks to the Korean and the South Africans and stepped onto the platform. I had already identified the Eagle House 2 hostel from my guide book as a place to stay and planned to give them a ring. Before I had the chance, however, I was approached by a fellow traveller who had overheard some of my earlier conversations. He was Richard from Sweden. Within minutes we found ourselves on a free ride to Eagle House 2 and subsequently booking a twin room. I paid around a quarter of what I'd been paying for accommodation in Bangkok, but the room seems fine.

After settling our belongings, Richard and I headed off into Chiang Mai. It's so refreshing to not be in Bangkok. Chiang Mai is so much calmer and less humid. After wandering the streets of Chiang Mai and visiting a couple of temples, we sat down for some food at a small Thai cafe. Richard was a more experienced traveller than me and attempted to ask the waitress for a 'traditional Thai dish'. The waitress was struggling to understand, but help was at hand in the shape of Bjorn Lincoln! Bjorn, another Swede, has been in Thailand for many years. With his loose grasp of the Thai language, Bjorn aided Richard in ordering his meal. I took my chance to use Bjorn as well - I asked him to enquire if the Red Curry here was hot! 'Only a little bit' implied the waitress! If I could enjoy a red curry in a Western Bangkok restaurant, I thought, it was time for me to sample a real Thai one.

Richard and I spent the next two or three hours chatting to Bjorn - or more accurately, listening to Bjorn chat to us! Bjorn was full of useful and interesting information. As he harpered on about how great Abba were, how Vikings didn't actually have horns, why some Chiang Mai village people have such long necks, and how he is named after Abraham Lincoln, Richard and I became more engrossed. We continued to take interest in Bjorn and enquire on where he recommended we go in Chiang Mai. What Bjorn didn't notice, however, was the increasing squirming and eye watering that I was attempting to hide. After my first mouthful of red curry from a proper Thai restaurant, I had come to the decision that it was hot, but palatable and enjoyable. As Bjorn continued to indoctrinate us with his pro-Thai and pro-Swedish propaganda, I found my Coke and rice beginning to whittle down, and my mouth begin to heat up. My next enquiry on Chiang Mai was probably not what Bjorn expected. "So, erm, if you have a curry and its very hot, what should you drink to cool it down?" I asked. Bjorn, seemingly the master of all things Thai and Swedish, surprised me even more with his answer. "I don't know" he replied. I ended up with some water, and by the end of the meeting I returned to normal, albeit with some great knowledge of Chiang Mai and a new found love for Sweden!

On the walk back to the hostel, Richard booked himself onto a Chiang Mai trek for tommorrow. Chiang Mai is renowned as being the Thai centre for trekking, and I too will book one, maybe for a couple of days time. As he booked his chosen package, I left Richard and returned to my room. It was a good couple of hours since I ate my curry, and it was becoming increasingly more obvious. As I sat in our en suite bathroom I could only laugh at the irony. While I was forced to begin the rationing of my toilet roll, a virtually unused roll was lying dormant in an upper compartment of the Bangkok-Chiang Mai Express.

While Richard left the room in search of a quiet evening before his trek, I set out to see what the evening would bring me. As it turns out so far, it's brought me a nice and familiar Western burger and chips, and some free internet to write my blog entry.