A haphazard chronicle of my inevitable misadventures during a year in Vietnam and points east.

p.s. I'll be pitifully grateful if you send me email during my exile: TravelerKaty@hotmail.com

October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 February 2006 March 2006 May 2006

 
Mae Sot, Thailand

In Mae Sot I decided that the best way to see the sights was by motorbike. I'd already determined on my first day that the town itself didn't have a whole lot to offer, and it has developed a rather violent reputation lately as a place where young racist Thai gangs beat and kill innocent Burmese walking along the street at night, not to mention the Burmese women who get sold into domestic or sexual slavery. Though on the surface it seemed peaceful and dull, I was ready to get out of town.

The morning was uneventful, with a leisurely ride out to some hot springs (lame) and a cave (skipped it). In the afternoon I headed south to Pha Charoen waterfall. This destination was chosen mostly because I couldn't find the first waterfall I aimed for -- either Lonely Planet needs to improve their directions or the Thais need to invest in more English language signage. Pha Charoen was well worth it, an incredible 90 levels of water cascading down a tropical mountain. It almost looked fake, it was so beautiful and perfect.

As this is the rainy season in northern Thailand, the path to the top was quite slippery, and I managed to fall on my ass in the mud on two separate occasions. I was an alarming sight to the Thai tourists at the bottom when I emerged from the forest like the Creature from the Black Lagoon, dripping and muddy, with a broken motorbike helmet visor to show for my efforts.

Three Thai drivnig hazards emerged durng my day on the motorbike, not including the usual terrors of cars, trucks, road construction, and driving on the left. The two morning hazards were both animal in nature. The first wasn't so unfamiliar -- a herd of cattle crossing the road in front of me at an inopportune moment. Not that every moment isn't inopportune when crossing in front of a person of limited driving skills. The second could definitely be described as a first for me -- a caravan of elephants with various agricultural products, tools, and Thai handlers on top, lumbering and swaying hugely down the narrow road, dropping monstrous amouns of dung behind them and hogging the shoulder and most of my lane. Fortunately were were not exactly on a busy highway at that point -- I was able to pass without any tragic vehicle/elephant carnage.

The third driving hazard was far more nervewracking, though it sounds innocent -- it rained. Now, I'm the first to admit that I'm not the greatest driver in the world. It's not for nothing that during one dark summer I was known as "Crash" to my friends and family, though I continue to maintain that I was only responsible for a couple of those accidents. I also don't have much experience on a motorbike, so I operate in constant fear that I will hit something slippery or solid and go careening off the road or into an elephant or something.


As a result of all this, when the deluge began I immediately pulled into a closed storefront, got my book out and started snacking on the remainder of my fruit, figuring that even if I had to sit there for half an hour it would still be light enough to find the guesthouse since I was already on the outskirts of town. Forty-five minutes later, with no discernable change in the torrent, I began to have my doubts. Rain like this is rarely seen outside the pages of Genesis.

Since it seemed unwise to wait until I had to brave the storm in the pitch darkness, I donned my rain poncho and set off, splashing through 8 inch puddles at speeds reaching 7 mph. Remember how I broke the visor on the helmet earlier in the day? Its consequent absence meant I could either ride blnid with fogged and rainy glasses or ride blinder with no glasses at all.

Things managed to get worse, as I got hopelessly lost in the darkening deluge, unable to read any of the signs in Thai. When the situation get absolutely impossible, I took a break at some sort of army outpost, where 20 friendly men in fatigues were happy to offer me food and a chair, and helpfully turned their TV to the National Geographic Channel, the only one they got in English. Twenty minutes of sodden driving and two stops for directions later, I made it back to the guesthouse where I pushed the motorbike through the newly created 10" moat (formerly called "the patio") to the front door. You will understand why I decided to "eat in" that night.


Copyright 2003 Katy Warren
posted by Katy at 8:30 PM