The next morning we left for Chiang Mai, a city in northern Thailand; unfortunately, the journey was not uneventful as we had hoped. For starters, the plane seating chart confused all the passengers ahead of us,causing a log jam in the aisles. For starters, rows 1-30 appeared to have disappeared,along with seats DEF the whole way down the plane. I'm not sure why the regional Thai airline wanted to give the impression that they regularly flew massive jets between two small cities in Thailand, but it only succeeded in confusing all of us.
Then the second unfortunate instance struck: the bumpy plane ride caused one woman to vomit the entire agonizing 5 minutes of landing. This was especially terrible because, as those of you who know Jocelyn are doubtless aware, she has a deathly fear of vomiting (once she ran away from my choking brother because she thought he was vomiting. Alas, he survived despite this heartless act.) I, seated one row behind her, began frantically scanning the emergency exits to see if she had jumped yet, but her life was saved by a strong pair of earplugs. Small mercies.
At the Chiang Mai airport, we shared a taxi with a Dutch girl who worked as a tour guide, and according to her, the truly terrible travelers were not, in fact, Americans, but -surprise - Canadians (what???). "It's the Canadians you have to watch out for, they think they are so great, that they are the best travelers, but they can be awful!.....Americans are big happy puppies, excited about everything." Americans 1, Canadians....well, they still have a lot on us.
Our second day in Chiang Mai, we completed the trifecta of Thailand activities: elephant riding, tiger petting, and bamboo rafting. (Only the first two are traditional, I just wanted to use the word "trifecta. ") Elephant riding is safe for the animals if riding bareback, which we did--riding with saddles is apparently cruel. Our ride was very jiggly and uncomfortable, but cool nonetheless; my elephant behaved herself, but Jocelyn's was quite naughty, and kept pausing to eat the shrubbery while Jocelyn gripped on for dear life and tried to avoid the bamboo being thrust in all directions. We stopped at a river to bathe the elephants,and got in some fun shots with Jocelyn's mischievous elephant.
On our journey back to camp, we heard angry trumpeting calling towards us. This turned out to be a baby elephant, calling not for her mother, but for her trainer, who she spotted riding another elephant and was jealous.
We then went bamboo rafting (uneventful) and pet tigers. Surprisingly, only the males were available to pet, the females being too aggressive and unpredictable. The big cats were fuzzy, calm and lazy in the sun (not sedated, according to the workers, but I'm not sure I believe them). The only time we saw them riled was when a child walked by the females (safely stowed in cages)--the tiger pounced, only the cage saving the kid, who was understandably traumatized.
Below: nervous pets, nervous jumps, lazy kitty
The rest of the time in Chiang Mai was spent in a cooking class and visiting various temples. We met our AirBnB neighbor, an older man named Tom, a used car salesmen-turned-philosopher who was full of contradictions. He didn't believe in opinions - he felt they divided people - but, as we soon found out, was chock full of them. Religion, politics, the environment, "yoga people," the right way to travel ....We heard it all. We soon found ourselves tiptoeing out of the apartment, praying we wouldn't unleash the conversation dragon.
Below: assorted temples
We accidentally visited two very white establishments: the first was a restaurant recommended to us by Tom. The admittedly lovely outdoor space was populated entirely by tourists, never a good sign. Worried about germs, we tried to surreptitiously dump the ice from our glass into the bushes, but the waitress watched us with hawk eyes; when her back was turned for two seconds, Jocelyn seized our glasses and dumped the ice, which shattered very audibly in the planter behind her. Immediately our waitress rushed over to see the commotion, and the offered us more (non-bottled) water, which we had to refuse with a straight face. She looked at us suspiciously and then ignored us the rest of the night, and we giggled about the incident for the next hour.
We also visited a jazz club which, unbeknownst to us, was also patronized by every white person in Chiang Mai. I saw every variety: backpackers, hipsters, a lady with her hair pulled into what was surely an empty toilet paper roll spray-painted gold, and The Dancing Queen herself, a girl with very hairy armpits who started a mosh pit right in front of my seat (thanks....). The first jazz band was excellent, but the second was hampered by an enthusiastically terrible cymbal player who played to no rhythm but his own. Still, it was entertaining.
Our final night in Thailand was spent on a surprisingly nice overnight train to Bangkok. The seats fold out into bunks overnight. Apparently we slept too long in the morning, because finally (still more than an hour to go until our destination, mind you), the attendant raps our beds unceremoniously and yanks back the curtain. We arrived in Bangkok tired, but determined to see something in the 6 hours we had until our respective flights; we chose to tour the Grand Palace, a lovely collection of temples and buildings.
Below: great palace, murals (look at the kissing detail! Insane)
Then I left for Cambodia, and Jocelyn for home.
Then the second unfortunate instance struck: the bumpy plane ride caused one woman to vomit the entire agonizing 5 minutes of landing. This was especially terrible because, as those of you who know Jocelyn are doubtless aware, she has a deathly fear of vomiting (once she ran away from my choking brother because she thought he was vomiting. Alas, he survived despite this heartless act.) I, seated one row behind her, began frantically scanning the emergency exits to see if she had jumped yet, but her life was saved by a strong pair of earplugs. Small mercies.
At the Chiang Mai airport, we shared a taxi with a Dutch girl who worked as a tour guide, and according to her, the truly terrible travelers were not, in fact, Americans, but -surprise - Canadians (what???). "It's the Canadians you have to watch out for, they think they are so great, that they are the best travelers, but they can be awful!.....Americans are big happy puppies, excited about everything." Americans 1, Canadians....well, they still have a lot on us.
Our second day in Chiang Mai, we completed the trifecta of Thailand activities: elephant riding, tiger petting, and bamboo rafting. (Only the first two are traditional, I just wanted to use the word "trifecta. ") Elephant riding is safe for the animals if riding bareback, which we did--riding with saddles is apparently cruel. Our ride was very jiggly and uncomfortable, but cool nonetheless; my elephant behaved herself, but Jocelyn's was quite naughty, and kept pausing to eat the shrubbery while Jocelyn gripped on for dear life and tried to avoid the bamboo being thrust in all directions. We stopped at a river to bathe the elephants,and got in some fun shots with Jocelyn's mischievous elephant.
On our journey back to camp, we heard angry trumpeting calling towards us. This turned out to be a baby elephant, calling not for her mother, but for her trainer, who she spotted riding another elephant and was jealous.
We then went bamboo rafting (uneventful) and pet tigers. Surprisingly, only the males were available to pet, the females being too aggressive and unpredictable. The big cats were fuzzy, calm and lazy in the sun (not sedated, according to the workers, but I'm not sure I believe them). The only time we saw them riled was when a child walked by the females (safely stowed in cages)--the tiger pounced, only the cage saving the kid, who was understandably traumatized.
Below: nervous pets, nervous jumps, lazy kitty
The rest of the time in Chiang Mai was spent in a cooking class and visiting various temples. We met our AirBnB neighbor, an older man named Tom, a used car salesmen-turned-philosopher who was full of contradictions. He didn't believe in opinions - he felt they divided people - but, as we soon found out, was chock full of them. Religion, politics, the environment, "yoga people," the right way to travel ....We heard it all. We soon found ourselves tiptoeing out of the apartment, praying we wouldn't unleash the conversation dragon.
Below: assorted temples
We also visited a jazz club which, unbeknownst to us, was also patronized by every white person in Chiang Mai. I saw every variety: backpackers, hipsters, a lady with her hair pulled into what was surely an empty toilet paper roll spray-painted gold, and The Dancing Queen herself, a girl with very hairy armpits who started a mosh pit right in front of my seat (thanks....). The first jazz band was excellent, but the second was hampered by an enthusiastically terrible cymbal player who played to no rhythm but his own. Still, it was entertaining.
Our final night in Thailand was spent on a surprisingly nice overnight train to Bangkok. The seats fold out into bunks overnight. Apparently we slept too long in the morning, because finally (still more than an hour to go until our destination, mind you), the attendant raps our beds unceremoniously and yanks back the curtain. We arrived in Bangkok tired, but determined to see something in the 6 hours we had until our respective flights; we chose to tour the Grand Palace, a lovely collection of temples and buildings.
Below: great palace, murals (look at the kissing detail! Insane)
Then I left for Cambodia, and Jocelyn for home.
Lauren: Love, love hearing about all your travels!
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