Trekking in Northern Thailand

Day 2 of our trip to Chiang Mai saw us join a group of twelve people for a 3-day trek. Heading west, stopping for an elephant ride, and a visit to a cave on the way, we were finally dropped on a wet track surrounded by jungle.

Our target for the first night was a village of Karen people, 3 hours away through jungle and rice fields. It’s the start of the rainy season, so the rice was growing in the small fields, waiting to be transplanted into the paddies. In 3 months time, the crop will be harvested to provide the local people with the supply for a year.

Day 2 started with some time in one of the houses in the village. As we arrived, a woman was preparing to grind a supply of rice for the day, dressed in local woven cotton clothes, 78 years old, toothless but with a wiry strength and agility that would put many younger Westerners to shame. We watched the grain being separated from the husk to provide food for people, pigs and chickens.

It was clear that life in the village required a high level of self-sufficiency, resourcefulness, and physical hard work. Food and building materials come from the land around the village, clothing is woven by hand. Bamboo is used for many things—floors and fences, rattraps, mugs, and baskets. There were a few signs that things were changing: some tin roofs, some T-shirts. Perhaps it will be unrecognisable in another generation, traditional skills swept away as modern amenities become more readily available.

We passed through another village later that day, but otherwise we saw virtually no one. The rainy season meant an abundance of leeches on one stretch of the walk. It can be disconcerting to see one (or even worse, several) climbing up your boot, resisting all efforts to dislodge it. Concerned cries from one or another member of the party increased in volume and urgency as the offending creature approached its target—to slip inside a boot or attach itself to an ankle.

We woke on day 3 to the sounds of bamboo rafts being constructed on the edge of the river below our cabin. We realised soon after setting out that this was going to be no gentle drift down the stream, and were swept down the river, swollen with rain, avoiding (mostly) the rocks. The rafts creaked beneath our feet, and flexed as we ran over a submerged obstacle. This was a highlight of the trip for many of the party.

In due course, the day turned wet, so the visit to the top of Doi Inthanon was aborted, and to the nearby waterfall was a damp affair. Never mind, we were a very satisfied group of travellers when we finally arrived back in Chiang Mai.

As it happens, we didn’t spend much time in Chiang Mai, just long enough to look at some of the Wats and some markets. The town itself has a similar feel to Bangkok, although it’s smaller and more relaxed. The smells, the broken pavements, the street vendors, the tuk-tuks – they’re just the same.

We visited Wat Chedi Luang the day after a festival had finished. Young monks were clearing the debris – collecting rubbish in sacks or sweeping it into the shallow water of the moat surrounding the central, crumbling, chedi. Burnt candles and offerings of flowers and incense sticks told of the previous day’s celebrations. In one corner of the grounds was an old banyan tree, which will stand as long as the city thrives, with many faded silk cloths tied around it. A wooden Buddha head lies at the base.

The most interesting Wat (well, that’s what the guide book says) is Wat Phra Singh; white buildings, bright in the sunlight, surrounded by the quarters for monks. Golden Buddhas sit in the middle of temple buildings, surrounded by carpeted floors for Buddhist worshippers. One building holds a reclining Buddha, although on a much smaller scale than the one in Bangkok.

Our accommodation in Chiang Mai was Gap’s house. At just under £10 for a double room for a night, this is a mid-range guesthouse. The generous-sized rooms have wooden floors and walls, and the vegetarian buffet in the evening was excellent.