So He is off to Laos, after our last night hanging out and him calling me, "his sexy girl" all night. Le sigh. Perfect timing for all and a great evening to wrap it up, well, great spending time with him, but total crap on clubbing. Went to four clubs, all shit-shows, until I got us to Mandalay and I was having a blast watching Thai after Thai get up and perform songs. My date was tired though, so I put my half-drunk beer in the cup holder of the Honda Click and took us home.
It was a late night and my alarm at 7:30am was a brutal awakening to reality. I had 24 hours to get across a border and get some stamps, pay some people, and get back to Chiang Mai in time to move back to Smile House by noon on Sunday. Why back? Well, I miss it and the reasons for moving to Micasa were nulified by my infrequent use of the fridge and the terrible wifi in my room. Plus, it's getting hotter here and that pool looks damn inviting. I'll be solving my Thai wifi issues once and for all tomorrow with a 3G wifi card from TrueMove, the best 3G coverage in the country and a little plug-in-thingy for my computer. Wifi everywhere I go, so I can go everywhere.
Which brings me back to this morning. It seemed like a really good idea to ride the short three and a half to four hours (as quoted by the two people I asked) up to Burma and back. Well, four hours later and I was just hitting Chiang Rai, the backs of my hands a rosy red, my back screaming from carrying my backpack, and 68 kilometers to go to the border. It was about that time that I passed an elephant and his handler, saw a sign that pictured a bicycle, motorbike, and rickshaw lane (still wishing I got a picture), and a landscape of people planting rice fields against the jungle-covered limestone mountains of the golden triangle.
The border crossing was less memorable. A long line of beggars covered the bridge to Burma and I stayed long enough to get a stamp and use the bathroom before returning to Thailand with hopefully enough time to motorbike back. Yup, you read that right, my trip to Burma was to pee. Exotic. I had foregone food up until that point, relying solely on multiple red bulls to get me through the day. I picked up a bag of roasted chestnuts already shelled and tossed them in my mouth as I rode out of Mae Sai and back towards Chiang Rai.
When I neared Chiang Rai, I had a choice to make. Figure out where to purchase a gas can and carry enough petrol to make it back to Chiang Mai without relying on small gas stations that close early in small towns, or find lodging. I stopped over four times, each time working on perfecting the right charades for "gas can". Yeah. I swore that the Shell station was my last try and this time I pulled out my Thai/English phrasebook and looked up the word for gas. For some reason, that with the combo of me acting out dumping my waterbottle into my fuel tank, got the response I wanted. The 16-21 year old boy/man that was the one who spoke the best English had the light turn on for understanding and he returned to me with an empty 4 liter oil container, rinsed it out with some gasoline, and filled it to the tune of 200 baht. I handed over the money, used a shoulder strap from my backpack to fasten my gas can under my feet, and hopped on the bike.
The sun set as I turned onto Hwy 118 south of Chiang Rai, about the time I saw the 168 kilometers to Chiang Mai sign. I did some quick math and figured I had about 2 more hours ahead of me if I averaged 80 kilometers an hour. It was a lot longer than that. Good news, Thai people are generally good drivers in the country and only one guy didn't turn off his high beams when he should have. I took to wearing my backpack on my front to both aliviate the screaming pain my shoulder was sending and to keep me a bit warmer as the road wound upward in very, very chilly hills. I never saw a hotel, used my gas can when needed, and found myself freezing cold and teeth chattering when I happened upon a god-send. I pulled over when I saw fire at the drunk-driving highway patrol checkpoint. The two patrolmen were sitting beside a nicely roaring bonfire and they were very hospitable when I walked over. I found myself being offered coffe and then water, my icy hands taken between the warm hands of one of the patrolmen as the other fired off questions like, where are you coming from (he looked impressed when I told him), how old are you (I answered in Thai), and where are you going. I warmed up and hit the road, one of the guys using his official light to hold back traffic so I could get going.
When I made it into Chiang Mai, I went to three places before I found a place that was open and serving hot soup. Combined with a huge plate of Pad Thai, I was ready to roll back to the hotel and type this out before total collapse. No pictures, plenty of adventure, a visa stamp that means two more months possible in Thailand, and a hell of a lot of motorbike practice later and I'll need at least two full-body massages to release the tension that 12 solid hours of motorbike riding can wreck on a human body.
I feel like I kick ass and have the ass kicked right out of me. It was great to spend the day alone with my iPod, thoughts, and the rest of Thailand but part of me missed Him when I got back.