Pai eyed in Thai

One word....AWFUL, AWFUL, AWFUL. We do not like Thailand at all. Reasons will become apparent as you read.
CHANGMAI
We thought we were being clever avoiding Bangkok and going to Changmai, the second city. We were wrong!
The worst things.....
Heat and dirt (Should be used to that by now!)
Awful hairdressers! (Apparently, everyone thinks that they can cut hair in Thailand and they do not need a qualification to set up!) We both look like lunatics!!! Caused a row!!! Don't want to talk about it!!!!
Men who look like women
Women who look like men
Adults with a child in tow!!!!
Old English men with beer gut and ponytails with young bored Thai girls in tow!!! (Sad or what?)
Postcards of naked young boys (Why?????)
Awful food unless you have a long time to find the good places.
Rats on draining boards, among the 'clean' dishes!
soul-less rooms with no chairs or table
The bill often has extra on it. You need to check it out-always!
Good things....
Popeye and Rugrats on tv-to stop me going mad!
Internet down Moon-Amung and the sweet little socks on the legs of the chairs to stop them squeaking!
The cafe opposite here that made a great cuppa.
The dogs with tee-shirts on (But why???It is 33 degrees????)
PAI
After 3 days we left by mini-bus for Pai, on the northern border with Burma. This involved a 3 hr journey hurtling around hair-pin bends up into the mountains. The scenery was wonderful and the town itself was attractive in the sense that it consisted of stalls selling local goods, foods and ethnic crafts, travel shops, restaurants, supermarkets and Internet services.
We soon found a room at a very respectable rate of 350 baht a night, (5.50p) It was a hut in a tropical garden and we were the only ones staying there.
After putting some of our basic stuff out we heard rain, in the bathroom, At first we thought it was a leak as water was pouring from the ceiling. However, Lee opened the outside door and it was raining in the garden too. A close look at the ceiling revealed slats of wood so that is why the rain came in. We quickly retrieved the towels and the toilet roll! Fortunately, the bedroom had a proper ceiling. In 20 minutes the rain stopped. We explored a local bar, the Buffalo Bar, where musicians were having a jam session. It was very good.
We were to stay here for 10 days because of Christmas, and, although we went to a local pop concert, billed as Pai's 'Woodstock' and had a reasonable time we grew increasingly bored. We could not find decent food or fresh milk, we tried a bar with a pool that was owned by a rather rough looking Scotsman who was an 'almost' pool star. When Lee gave him a game and won, he would not play again!! We did not find people of our own age to talk to, the only youngsters seemed to be Thai, who were all very quiet and well-behaved, or young girls with Rasta hairstyles hanging out with the locals. I could not work out what the Caribbean influence was about. Christmas came and we had no company, missed our families and fell out, which is very rare, so it was all a bit of a mess. There was nothing to do with Christmas only the Thai elections, which were on that weekend so alcohol was banned. We were later told that this was to do with buying votes from people. It made for a pretty dismal time. Probably my worst ever 'Christmas'. Only tv was BBC World News which seemed to be random items, and sometimes the sound went off!!!!Ah well.....Bit of travel fatigue setting in too I think. We are a bit Asia-ed out! We set off on the 26th for Ko Samui, an exotic holiday island in the south of Thailand. This involved hurtling back down the mountains for 3 and a half hours with the driver from hell. It was hard not to be travel sick. I did manage to stay in my seat by holding on. He managed to knock a girl off her motorbike by squeezing in too narrow a gap. He did not even stop!!
We got a room for the night in a room that would not pass muster in a prison or a doss-house. There was a rat gnawing at the skirting board during the night!!! How low can you go???
The next day we got up at six, left at seven and got a taxi to the airport. The first flight was only one and a half hours, but we had a three hour wait at the airport. I began to feel ill too. The next flight was one and three quarter hours. I was clutching my sick bag all the time. We transferred to the coach and I did manage to be sick then. We transferred to the ferry for a three hour journey to the island. It was so pretty but I was too ill to appreciate any of it.
Ko Samui
We got to the Pier and got a taxi to Fisherman's cove. The second hotel was an absolute dream of pretentiousness with a dramatic theme of Chinese red, gold and black. The sea lapped outside the patio-door. I crawled into bed! Lee went out to get a meal. He was propositioned by a Thai girl, who hung around for some time waiting to be bought a drink. She needs to know that you can never distract an Englishman from his sport! The guy he was talking football with told her to go, that Lee was not interested, though he had his Thai girl sitting nearby and ignored her the whole time he was talking to Lee. Strange world here, and quite sad.
Big Buddha Beach
Unfortunately our wonderful Chinese,'Red House' hotel only had two nights so we had to move again. We spent the second morning looking for somewhere to be for New Year-Don't ask! I did not get time to enjoy the red room as I was too ill and we were sorting out our move and packing up-so near and yet so far. The resort itself seemed to contain a lot of rough looking Englishmen who owned bars, but we found one or two good places to go. Ah well.
Ayranburi Boutique Resort!!!!!!
Another disaster. We have ended up at a very posh resort, with a room the size of our shed. It is out on an idyllic headland with the bay, beach and pool. It is empty and the few people who are there do not talk to anyone else!!! Everything is ridiculously expensive and, as we know the true prices in this area, just damned annoying. It is all so jumped up and plastic, it is awful. We cannot wait to leave in two days time but, in the meantime have to suffer a GALA dinner which has cost 40 pounds each.

What an absolute nightmare. I would rather have had lobster for two in a restaurant in Fisherman's cove, instead I am going quietly mad here. It is a bit like that program, The Prisoner, from the 60's.
Chaeweng Beach
We got the mini-bus here this morning as there is nothing where we are. We have stocked up on drink and food as we do not want to pay their prices. We are doing our blogs as we will not pay the extortionate prices at the hotel. We walked down the High Street and were stopped 5 times by motorcyclists doing the time-share scam in 10 minutes. Nightmare. We looked at the beach and were immediately accosted by a sun-glass seller!!!! Blackpool-Costa Nightmare. We leave in two days but I do wonder will Langkawi, in Malaysia be any better. I sure-as-hell hope so!!!!!

Arrival in Vang Vien- a one horse town

As the mini-bus dropped us off, outside a guesthouse, the usual thing, we decided that we would be more discerning about finding a place to stay that met our needs. We walked away from the place we were dropped and went 3 doors down! We avoided a hotel for $15 for a straw hut (See picture above!) costing $5 a night, two pounds, fifty pence, (Gosh! That much!). After an initial encounter with a cockroach, it proved to be our little oasis........

We walked into the gateway to ask if the Khem Kong had any rooms. We were shown a basic room with fan, double bed and shower/ toilet but I had noticed the romantic little huts in the 'garden and asked whether they had one of those. She said that the rooms were the same so I asked to see one. I think that she wondered whether I would make it up and down the steps. I'd show her. I went down the most rickety and steep steps ever, followed by the family dog, who moved with alacrity, unlike my good self! and clambered up the steps to the hut on stilts. It was gloriously simple and had a fabulous view over the river, see pics, . It had two little chairs, adult sized, and a card table on the veranda outside too. We took it. Lee sat on the veranda and tried out his phone. Still not working. Disappointing.Within half an hour we had unloaded our bags and set out to explore the town.

The initial road was a track and there did not seem to be much there, building projects, street cafes and tubing trip outlets, but the town soon opened out into a series of shops and cafes. There were numerous outlets for the famous trek, caving and tubing trips, shops selling fake designer shorts and walking sandals and cafes of all demeanors, including the famous t.v. cafes where hoards of youngsters could slouch or loll around on bed stuctures with loads of cushions slurping milk shakes and watching endless episodes of Friends. They slumped with glazed expressions staring at the screens. Lee was stunned. I thought immediately of Tom Willis and Michaela Plant, who may have thought that they had died and gone to heavan! There were about five of these cafes each showing a different series. We moved on. We stopped for a meal. I tried Thai noodles but found them too sweet and left most of them. Lee tried a roast, a bad choice I thought as they don't cook in our ways. I was right but he slogged through it. I smiled in sympathy at a young Laos woman pushing a pushchair with a restless baby in it. She immediately parked him by me! I made a point to remind myself not to smile at women with babies. She removed him five minutes later when I showed no interest. We left soon after and took a bottle of Bacardi and coke back to our veranda.

We were going to sit outside, relax and read. Lee sat on his chair and opened his book. I went into the bathroom to put out the towels. Within five minutes Lee had brought his chair in bemoaning the fact that we could not find perfection anywhere. He had already been chased inside by the number of insects attracted by the balcony light! He came in disgusted by the number of strange insects that had landed in a dazed state on the table and his book. To top this a gecko was hunting around the light above his head. I did point out that we were in a tropical country and by a river and if he had long trousers on and sprayed himself with deet he would be fine. . He was neither appeased or amused, I was, by his curmudgeonly expression! Until the cockroach incident that is! He was going to pour the drinks but stopped in mid flow as I let out an expletive and a loud shriek. I had hung up the towels on the rail in the bathroom then gone to move the old toilet roll, that had nearly run out, to replace it with the new one, when a huge cockroach flew out of the inside, skimmed my arm and scuttled under the bed!!!! Lee peered flustered, around the door and, between swearing and squirming, I was able to indicate the events. We headed, cautiously, to the top of the bed and peered over, the cockroach was trying to squeeze under the skirting board. Eugh!!!! How disgusting are they??? I shuddered. He was on his back, squeezing with all his might. I suddenly noticed, with horror, that the although the windows were netted against mosquitoes, there were gaps between the floorboards big enough for a colony of any insects to move in, when attracted by the light. Our pretty little hut seemed to have turned into our worst nightmare!!! Lee looked in despair, as he thought we had found a perfect place, at last. We could hear the clicking of the rather cross cockroach nearby and constantly checked for his reappearance. He did start to crawl up the wall and we fetched the owner's son, who was going to removed it. Of course, as is often the way with these thing, it had disappeared when he came over. He suggested that we block some of the gaps with rolled toilet paper!!! This could take all night. I decided to be sensible. I unpacked the mosquito coils and set them burning under the bed. We had a couple of drinks and retired for the night, but not before we had moved the bed away from the wall a bit and I had dressed in long trousers, socks and a long sleeved tee shirt !!! I woke once and heard the clicking but could not see a shadow so I drifted off again.

Day two saw us at the street cafe eating cornflakes and enjoying a huge cup of tea. It was set in the middle of what looked like a building site, but that was fine. It looked like the site of the old market and it was now being developed. This is the case with every place that we have been in Asia. It is hard to get away from the tapping of hammers, as everyone has decided to develop their assets. Currently, to my left a group of six men are working under an old dust-laden parasol, tying springy steel strips together. These will, no doubt, be used inside a wooden casing filled with concrete to form the uprights of a new building that will take shape during the next month. Across the road a floor dries in a double shop unit, while, next door, a wall appears, and so it goes on at an amazing rate. The beautiful limestone karsts will not be visible from this vantage point soon.

We got cycles after breakfast. Since it had been forty years since I had ridden a bike I was quite nervous, and wobbly, to start off with. The pedals seemed very high, and the builders over the road were amused when I nearly fell into their barrow of cement. I gathered as much dignity as I could and pushed my bike to the next corner before trying again.We went up and down as many of the roads as we could over the next two hours but ran out of places to go. I turned puce but gained confidence. It nwas exhilarating and gruelling. The town is surrounded by limestone karsts that stand dramatically in the morning mist and provide the rich green background of vegetation. As it was the height of the daytime teperatures 12-2 we decided to give the bikes back. It had cost 50p to rent them for the day, so that was not too bad. We bought cheese and beer and retired to our riverside view.

During the afternoon we sat happily chatting on the veranda. There was no noise except the distant shovelling of gravel out of the river. It was being used in some building project across the way.

Later we tried baked potatoes, at the organic cafe, but they were hard and inedible. On the way back we passing a group of Italian lads at a pancake stall. "The best in town," they informed us. The owner grinned and reached under a damp cloth for a small ball of 'dough'. He proceeded to roll it and spin it until it was wafer thin and the size of a dinner plate. He then stretched it over a well oiled hotplate. He quickly peeled two small bananas and squeezed chocolate squiggles over the slices. He folded it into an envelope shape and laid it onto paper. It was cut into small squares then covered in condensed milk and cocoa powder. The lads eyes lit up. I thought it must be so sweet. They walked off with their take-away treat.We tried a simpler version. It was okay. Maybe we are too old for all this???

Crossing the rickety bridge the next day we make it to Smiley's bar, where the yougsters hang out on hammocks, or swim in the river. We claimed a platform and I lolled over cushions while Lee sat in a hammock. We read, listened to the superb choice of mellow music, drinking refreshingly cold fruit shakes. A line of buddhist monks walked to the rivers edge, discarded their orange wraps and waded into the water to cool down and play like any nother young men. A few local cows paddled and grazed on the waters edge. One or two tubers floated by. The only negative was my encounter with some flying insect that I thought was a dragon fly. I had brushed it away and it had shot a barbed sting into my knuckle. I removed it and fortunately had my spray in my bag so I deadened the intense pain. I was shocked and tearful for a while but recovered after twenty minutes or so.

This laid back place has been one of our best so far, a little haven of peace. Laos is a wonderful place to visit.

The journey to in Vang Vien-Laos Sunday 9th Dec

On the last night in Luang Prabang we set out to have a tea of Pizza, in a recommended place. It was good. WE then returned to our room to pack. This is always a quiet activity with a certain amount of tension. It takes very little time really but sometimes we are slower than others. That night, Saturday, we were going to change our normal route and find the bar mentioned by Ivor, who we had met on the boat in Halong Bay, Vietnam. It was going to show the Villa match and I would be able to read in peace! Their slogan was, 'drink like a fish for the price of water!'. It was cheaper than the high street too, a point worth noting. We had scored a major victory at the internet cafe as the guy in charge, once he heard about the virus on the computer memory card had said let me have a look. We were to go back after 5pm. I was not hopeful as we had been told in Cambodia that the pictures were lost. This genius, uploaded them and put them onto a disc for me. I was, ' over the moon.' I wanted to text everyone to say that I had got my pictures back but the telephones will not send messages from Laos. Technology is both wonderful and totally exasperating!!

We went to the opposite end of the High Street and headed towards the Mekong River. Some youngsters had just arrived loaded up to-the nines. They were looking for a place to stay. We pointed the ATM out to them and the direction of loads of guesthouses. They went happily on their way. It was pitch black at first but then we discovered a whole new part of the town. There was a fabulous pub garden and loads of youngsters were having a happy chat in the coloured lights. The atmosphere was electric. We had not investigated this road before. There was a great atmosphere and we relaxed, for once, with our drinks not feeling that we should order food as we had in the many restaurants. Lee even had a game of pool with Ivan as his team mate.



We woke with the phone alarm at 7 and we were sitting on the steps, waiting for the mini-bus, at 8.30. By 8.40 we were on our way to the middle of Laos. As we drove off I caught sight of the start of a cock fight, on the banks of the river. A few men were standing idly around watching. It was the only bad image I had of Luang Prabang. I shuddered.



The journey to Vang Vien was supposed to take four hours, we were told. It was six and a half, but the scenery was wonderful. The mini-bus moved smoothly up the mountain roads dodging cows, goats and ..yes...the inevitable hens. Within an hour we were snaking our way around endless hair-pin bends and through the regular villages of shabby wooden or raffia walled huts that clung mysteriously to the sides of the road, surrounded by sheer drops. At one point the cloud lay in one of these sheer drops like a lake far below us. The banana plant silhouetted against the skyline like wind turbines, the lush green vegetation in shades of bright green contrasting sharply with the bright red sanstone that reminded me of Ayers Rock, in Australia. Tall pampass grasses waved feathery fronds of lilac pink in the breeze. At the side of the road stalls were piled high with oranges, bananas, potatoes and onions. We bought small oranges when the driver stopped to get some. The lady pointed across the road to indicate that she had picked them earlier that morning from the trees we were now staring at. They were sweet and juicy and very cheap, 25p for about 20!

As we started off again a troupe of young children came up the slope carrying huge baskets on their backs full of some kind of vegetation. At the next village these leaveswere being woven into green roof panels. These were also laid out on the side of the road for purchase. I wondered who came to buy these goods, but come they must or there would be no point in setting up the stalls. On the floor nearby two men were weaving fabulous raffia wall panels for the creation of homes. They would be nailed onto a wooden frame. They seemed amazingly flimsy but did the job they were designed for, nevertheless, and the patterns on them were very pleasing to the eye. In fact, nature did her bit too, as everywhere the eye looked there were patterns from the vegetation to the frequent, dense spider webs on the sandstone, like the fishing nets on the river.



In the villages there seemed to be many children playing in the dust or climbing trees, men clustered around a repair, women were sitting in groups or hand washing clothes under taps. Each doorway showed a myriad of eyes watching from the dark, cool insides. Pigs, goats, puppies and chickens with tiny chicks in tow seemed to roam everywhere.



On one particularly steep bend I was really surprised to see a full sized coach go by. I glimpsed a seas of faces inside, a mountain of luggage on the top, and then, on top of the luggage were some peole sitting on the top! I did not fancy their view of the road especially since the sheer drop was their side!

At the first stop we parked beside a colourful series of food stalls. There were roast sweet potatoes, whole pineapples, bananas and papayas for fruit smoothies. Chicken feet marinated in some sauce were fixed to a stick as were a series of chicken hearts. We had a french stick made up with white chicken meat, onion, cucumber and tomatoes. It was then wrapped in cling film.

A Thai tour bus parked up and the women struck up a conversation with us. They were on their way to Bankok. One looked at our sandwich and, after checking whether it was just for me, gave us a cunk of the fish that she was eating. It was delicious. She was saying that the sandwhich was too fattening that the fish was better. I agreed. It was delicious.They waved as they drove off. I smiled in the sunshine. Some local children, obviously very poor, stood staring quizzically at us. I asked Lee for our sweets and gave them a pack each. The eldest smiled and struck up a faltering conversation with us. It was wonderful, and so was life. As we clambered back onto our bus another mini bus pulled up. It was full of back-packers. We were the only two westerners on our bus. It did not matter though.



On the bus we struck up a conversation with two younsters who were travelling together from Singapore. They gave us lots of information about travel in Thailand and Malaysia.

Laos-Friday 7th December

A flash of orange catches my eye as I gaze across the river. Below me a trio of Buddhist monks are talking to some fishermen in the boats by the bank. I raise my eyes as they begin to clamber about. A flotilla of small boats ply their trade across the river. My eyes are drawn to the ferry transporting a motorbike across the river. The ferry has been made by laying a raft across two small longboats, quite efficient. There is even a blue gazebo on an expanding metal frame to shade the traveller. A small, wooden, long-tailed boat beats it to the waters edge and a row of ant-like figures move up and down the bank opposite. The hum of a boat engine draws my attention downstream where a simple passenger boat moves rapidly with the current across the path of the returning ferry. The rippling brown surface of the river reflects these daily activities.

We sit, relaxed, on a wooden platform, overlooking the river flowing smoothly below us. A line of ants form a motorway along the tilting, wooden rail by our table. Our table is laden with fresh fruit , fruit shakes, French bread, butter and jam. A steaming mug of tea arrives along with a tin of condensed milk, the only blip in this perfection!!! We eat contentedly to the accompaniment of the tap, tap, tap of a neighbour's hammer. and the occasional whirr of an electric saw. Wood requires a lot of work and there is always something to be mended on the boats and in the homes of the local people.
The next day sees us sitting on the step again at 7.30 waiting for the mini bus to whisk us of on an elephant adventure. The bag had been reduced to essentials and had been put into our back pack in case we had to scramble and needed both hands!

The minibus arrived ten minutes later and whisked us off on our adventure. More scenery and a craft village. The people smile and greet us with ,"Sabadaii", which means Hello. They were just setting up so we left after a short while for the elephant camp. We were to ride the elephants through the jungle, catch a local long-tailed boat to the waterfalls to swim and relax, after lunch.
The majority of roads there were unmade which made for a jolting journey, better than any fairground ride! We were grateful for the unusually comfortable seats and reasonable suspension of the van! We were more shaken than stirred by the time we reached the ,'All Laos Elephant Camp. We walked to the waiting area where four elephants stood munching huge chunks of bamboo. I watched Pushkin, our elephant, deftly strip the outer layer off then stuff the remainder into his mouth and crush it to a pulp like a stick of rhubarb. I suddenly realised that they were already harnessed up. This consisted of a garden bench mounted on an inverted v shaped frame to protect their spine and distribute the weight. This was fixed in place by a flimsy strap which ran under the tummy of the elephant. My stomach lurched in fear as we were called to the mounting steps. I scrambled up these wondering why I had thought that this would be a good thing to do. At the top of the steps I was urged to take one step off the platform to step onto the elephants back then sit on the bench, which now had a cushion on it. I took a breath and stepped . Before I knew it Lee was beside me, a pair of basket hats were placed on our heads, and with the snap of a bar in place our elephant moved off to wait for the others to do the same. The mahout was sitting astride the elephants head and directing him via wiggles of his knee and feet, which lay behind the ears. I could feel the warmth of the elephants skin against my ankles. I was afraid to move my feet in case I accidentally gave a command! It was both exhilarating and terrifying as we moved through the jungle paths as there were sharp bends, steep inclines, declines that seemed like sheer drops at tomes, muddy streams and then the river!! As we tilted this way and that I was, irrationally, concerned that either we would fall out or pull the elephant over! Pushkin was extremely sure-footed and dexterous. He gradually won my trust and I relaxed. Sometimes he would stop and ponder over a juicy bit of foliage but a sharp rebuke from the mahout seemed to bring him to his senses and he plodded on.
I rewarded him with a huge bunch of bananas for his efforts which I fed to him wholesale, in 4's and 5's by placing them in the fold of his trunk. After a coffee, with condensed milk! We headed off for a nearby village where we walked a dusty track to the river and scrambled one by one across a bamboo raft and into a very rickety, and narrow, long-tailed boat to go the the Tad Sae waterfalls. The boat was very unstable to scramble into but we all did it and set off. The sun was shining as we made our way down river holding on to the sides of the boat. I kept one eye on the hole just above the waterline!

We had lunch at the waterfalls and then swam in the pools or under the flows of water themselves. A troupe of elephants paddled through the bottom pool as I was swimming higher up. It made a beautiful image, a lasting memory of a wonderful day.

We returned along a tarmaced road and wove our way through the colourful street market to return weary but elated, to our guesthouse.

Elephants and boats down stream...Is this a dream?

We got up at 6.30am. Our bags had been packed the night before but tension is always high on travelling days. We headed out for breakfast at 8, returning at 10 when we found the taxi waiting. The driver said $10 when we asked him how much. I waved the Cambodian guide, 'Out and About in Cambodia" and pointed to the bit that said that the taxi was about $5 stating that the airport was only 6km. He looked chastised and said, "Okay, $5." We set off up the narrow passageway nearly taking someones washing with us! Someone came and moved the rail over. We gave the driver $6 and thanked him.

The airport was small and expensive but we were processed quickly. There was a cheeky tax of $25 for all people leaving Cambodia, so Lee asked where it went. "To the Government," The official replied. Lee suggested that it should be given to help the poor children. She laughed nervously but he repeated it as we walked away. It was a short flight to Laos.

There was a mist over the mountains as we disembarked and I noticed that ours was the only plane on the runway! We had to have our photographs scanned for our visa which cost us $1

plus $36. We joined the second queue. Just as we were about to collect our visas the Dutch boys in front of us, Gaye and Roland, realised that they did not have enough cash in dollars. They asked us to help. After a moments deliberation we gave them $42 and we set out as a group of four to the town and the ATM. Our transport was an open pick-up truck with seats along each side and a metal cage over the top. We threw our bags in and clambered aboard. The journey was short, the countryside amazingly attractive and the main street delightfully charming. What a pleasant surprise: no dust tracks or rubbish, no tin hunts just villas, pavements and signs in English. This was a town in Laos, called Luang Prabang.

The lads gave us our money in Kip and we all set off to find somewhere to say. We turned down a picturesque street full of villas, flowers heading for the river. We booked into a guesthouse but moved further down the street the next day. We sat by the river and had a sumptuous meal of the local stew and four Lao beer each.

We were woken the next morning at about 8 by the chatter of young girls voices all around us and the occasional clatter of a mop bucket. The curtains were see through, the shower was cold. Hence the move.

The new guesthouse was $15 but promised hot water and some privacy and quiet. It was clean and bright too. We set out happily for breakfast. The buildings are exquisite and, despite the fact that we were told that Laos was less developed than either Vietnam or Cambodia, we have not found this to be the case. It seems far more civilised and clean. There is less hassle and has more moderate weather. There is a great deal of French influence here, shown in the colonial buildings, the brick villas, the fluffy poodles and french bread.

We took a stroll in the sunshine and came across the American guy dressed in blue overalls that I had noticed at the airport. He asked us where we had got our money back and was reassured when we said yes. We took photographs of the vegetation which was full of patterns, and the men building a bridge using thin wooden supports. Amazing but effective, nevertheless. We booked a trip to a nearby waterfall that was leaving in half an hour. It was only $4, 2 pounds each, and for this we would get an hours ride through the countryside, 2hrs at the waterfall and the return journey! We rushed off to get my swimming costume and sat on the steps of our guest house in the sunshine to wait for our transportation.


Soon we were hurtling happily around bends and through villages. We had several close encounters with yet more chickens crossing the road, (why?), a cockerel nearly met his demise, we slowed down but so did he, I really did not think that he had escaped our wheels until I opened my eyes and heard an indignant squawk as we hurtled away. The houses were often on stilts or stone villas set among exotic flowers. We came to a halt in a large car-park with its own market. The driver pointed to the way in. We walked for five minutes through the greenery and came across a bear rescue centre. There were about 6 of these small brown bears lazing or wrestling in a compound. There was natural jungle shade and they looked quite relaxed. In a nearby compound was a tiger who had also been reclaimed from poachers . I bought a tee-shirt for my daughter.

The waterfall had several turquoise pools to swim in, which I did. We walked up to the top and the scenery was beautiful, a real feast for the eyes. As we strolled back to the market for an ice cold drink the huge tropical flowers were superb. A Christmas plant with red leaves grows as a bush out here. This was the best day so far. As we were dropped off the night market was being set out on the road in a blaze of lights and colour. Perfect!