Day 172: Huay Xai to Chiang Rai (70 miles)
It was a ten mile ride to the Laos-Thailand border this morning. Exiting Laos was just as eventful as trying to get in to this country. We still had to pay a weekend overtime stamping fee as well as pay for a bus ticket to cross the bridge because you can’t walk or bike across. Boo for scammy border controls.
Entering into Thailand was comparatively boring because we already had a visa. The most exciting attribute was crossing over to the other side of the street. Thais drive on the left side. It’s weird and backwards and takes some time getting used to.
Country number 15.
The remaining sixty miles were pleasant. The roads were real roads with a shoulder to ride on. The weather was sunny and beautiful. Temples with extravagant personality towered above the roadside. Cars and trucks gave us cyclists room to ride. It’s a great feeling when two tons of metal don’t try their hardest to kill us. We arrived in Chiang Rai feeling slightly tired and had a mild sunburn, a great reminder of good weather on a fun adventure.
Bright blue sky heading into Chiang Rai.
Day 173: Chiang Rai
This is my second visit to this Northern Thai city. I remember this city as a sleepy mountain place. That same year, I had recently spent time in mega-cities such as Shanghai, Seoul, Beijing, Ho Chi Mihn and Bangkok. Compared to those metropolises, I recall feeling like this city was similar to my hometown of Sanger, California: small town, friendly people, nothing much going on, and home to Hmongs. (Note: Many Hmongs were relocated to Fresno county as political refugees in the 1980s. A majority of my students in Sanger were from these mountain regions of Northern Thailand and Laos.) When I was here over five years ago, I took a cooking class. That day turned out to be one of my favorite days in Thailand. Those few days a half a decade ago was my first solo vacation. I loved the nightly visits to the luau-type Night Bazaar to listen to the overweight ukulele player sing “Over the Rainbow” as I ate pad thai and read my book.
Chiang Rai day market.
Memory is a funny thing. Chiang Rai is definitely a smaller city compared to the hustle and bustle of busy Bangkok, Thailand’s largest city. Perhaps this city underwent a major makeover since the last visit. Nonetheless, this second visit to Chiang Rai did NOT feel like Sanger. The clock tower is golden and glitzy like a Louis XIV time piece. The Night Bazaar has two stages surrounded by souvenir vendors and cheap places to eat. Music plays late into the night. This is not the sleepy farm town that I recalled from before. I chose not to take the cooking class I’ve been raving about to Sean. I didn’t want to mess up that memory.
Chiang Rai night Bazaar.
Day 174: Chiang Rai (rest day)
It was a food day. Chiang Rai is more of a launching point for tours and treks outside of the city. I’ve mentioned before that we try to avoid touristy things. Instead we eat. The hole in the wall restaurant next to the motorcycle garage served a mean green curry soup. The smell of the curry helped overcome the stench of the dirty man sitting next to us who was already three giant beers in by the time we arrived before noon. Later we ate fries and drank an expensive imported porter. Then we found San Fran, a perfect outdoor place strung with Costco lights which served the most mouthwatering burger and potato wedges. I love food days.
Day 175: Chiang Rai to Ban San Pu Loei (40 miles)
One hundred percent chance of rain doesn’t scare crazy bike tourists. Yesterday was a balmy 78 degrees with perfect cartoon-shaped clouds glittering the powder blue sky. The meteorologists know nothing. When we woke up, no rain. When we packed our stuff, no rain. When we loaded our panniers, no rain. Right when we pulled away from the hostel, rain. Ok, well maybe the weather dudes know something. Good thing our gear is waterproof.
A visit to the White Temple on this gray day was perfect timing because the rain kept people away from this tourist attraction. This is one of my favorite temples because it’s a piece of architectural art. It’s unique. It’s edgy. It’s white and has mirrors and silver sparkles adorning the decorative curlicues that cover the roof, siding and handrails. I was perturbed, though, when I wasn’t allowed to wear shorts inside, but Sean was permitted. They’re prejudice against female knees. People were wearing capris and dresses that showed their ankles and shins, so clearly knees are monk’s weakness. Then when we went to put on pants (Sean did, too, to make me feel less segregated), the janitor made us move our bikes under the rain instead of under the awning. Not sure why he made us do that, but it made me mad. When I got passed the mandatory bike movement as well as the injustice of showing too much patella, I was able to better enjoy the art inside the temple. The back wall represents all things evil. Things like Pokemon, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Michael Jackson are among the many items painted on the wall of Hell.
White temple, Chiang Rai.
When it was time to depart from the temple to get back on the road, the little, nice, happy rain turned into I’m-tired-of-being-Mr.-Nice-Guy rain and decided to dump buckets on us. Our bags and bikes and selves are all waterproof, but we deemed it too dangerous to ride through. We decided to get some tea to hide from the torrential down pour. That’s what you do in Southeast Asia- when it rains, you eat and drink. Escaping the rain completely is inevitable. It’s green and lush here for a reason. Even in the dry season, it still rains. So one cup of orange-colored Thai milk tea turned into two and then food got involved as it continued to rain sheets.
Eventually the rain let up. We went back and forth as to whether we should continue riding today. The conclusion was yes, we should. It rained on us the rest of the day. It was back to the gentle, nice rain though. We only rode half of our goal, but any progress is still progress.
Day 176: San San Pu Loei to Ban Mae Khachan (32 miles)
Our little bungalow that we slept in last night stayed extremely humid so our wet clothes stayed wet. The forecast predicted double the rain from yesterday. Instead of getting dry, clean clothes wet and dirty, we just put on the same damp clothes from yesterday. Dryers are not a luxury we have on this trip. There’s nothing quite exhilarating as pulling up a soggy pair of lycra bike shorts to get you motivated for another riding day in the rain.
Many things in life are about choosing perspective. While riding many hours in the rain could be perceived as complete misery to some, I tried to imagine these thirty-two miles as a spa day. Here’s how: The mud and rocks collecting in my sandals were like a mud bath; hopefully moisturizing my dry heels and scraping off the foot fungus that I acquired in China. My rain jacket is so weathered that instead of shedding the water, it traps it in. Pedaling uphill makes me perspire and generate heat. All in all, my rain jacket turned into my own personal sauna. My skin is thanking me this very moment. The jacket isn’t waterproof, but the pockets are. This created the perfect opportunity for my pockets to FILL up with water. Every time I reached for my tissues in my pocket, my hands and cuticles got an extra bath of hydration. (By the way, I had to ring out the tissues each time I blew my nose because they were swimming in my pockets.) I got a great hydrotherapy session in at the spa. Rain sprayed on my face – a free version of those expensive mist sprays you buy at Sephora. It was a tiny bit like waterboarding, but since I’m on a spa theme here, we’ll just go with hydrotherapy. For an extra bonus, I ordered an acid peel for my eyeballs. The accumulation of six months of sweat that is stored in my helmet dripped down my face as the rain poured in. Perhaps this treatment will allow me to see better tomorrow. Acid peels on eye balls take a few days of recovery to get the full benefits. And the real prize spa treatment was the padded seat that I got to ride on. My padded bike shorts that filled up with water created a cushiony diaper feeling, so comfy that I even considered peeing in my pants when I couldn’t find a place to relieve myself after a few hours. See, it’s all about perspective.