Its public transport...
...baffles me. I never work out the song thaw system. This red vehicle is a cross between a minibus and a truck, open at the back.
You're supposed to hail one and tell the driver where you're going. If he's going your way, or close enough, he'll say "hop in" and the rest of the people on board, if they live further away from you, have to swing by your place en route. It's not often the quickest way home.
But he may not be going your way, in which case you have to flag the next one down, and so on. But try doing this with no Thai, and no knowledge of the city's layout. I try it once and end up at the zoo.
So more often than not, I'm riding pillion on Clare's motor bike. This gives you an idea of just how baffling the song thaew are, because riding pillion on any motor bike – let alone behind my dear cousin who most thoughtfully drives like Miss Daisy when I'm on board – is quite the most terrifying thing for me to do. But in some small way I'm glad I feel the fear and do it anyway.
Warning signs...
...are everywhere and never fail to raise a chuckle or have me reaching for my camera. I'm still trying to work out what the final one means.
It's a dog's life...
...and there are no end of stray mutts around, but there's also a strong dog benevolent movement here, those concerned for the canines will be pleased to know. Life for pooches that are pets, on the other hand, is a breeze.
The big chill...
...is alive and well in Chiang Mail. Is this why everyone is so relaxed and tolerant? Even in the most nightmarish traffic with people behaving like idiots, there's a sort of "meh" attitude we could use some of back home. There is very little on this earth as calming as having your feet massaged and at just a few quid for an hour, I'm wondering why I only managed two. I do manage a haircut while I'm in town and with no Thai I don't feel any pressure to chat while the pampering is underway. Bliss.
Blithe spirits...
... abound at The Spirit House, a restaurant on the north side run by Clare's friend Steve, an American who's been here a long long time. It is a maze of dining nooks and crannies, drooping tree fronds and tinkling fountains. Talking of tinkles, gents have the chance to piss over a bunch of chopped limes, an air freshening measure taken by the management. The most spiritual time to eat here is on a Wednesday evening when Clare's choir Global Harmonies meets and sings through its repertoire.
Serendipity knocks...
...and delivers. I wake up on my first morning at Clare's and realise I've left a bag on the plane. Not just any old bag, this has my Kindle and my iPod in it, among other things. Back at the airport there's no trace of it, in Chiang Mai or Bangkok, and most disheartened I fill in all the necessary paperwork. Calling up the next day to double check – still no trace – we decide to try the taxi firm that took me to Clare's apartment, just on the offchance. Lo and behold the driver has been waiting for me to get in touch and 15 minutes later he's outside waving my bag. Faith and essential electronics duly restored.
No comments:
Post a Comment