Noodle soup, sticky rice and Beer Lao

Today I heard it again. My favorite Thai word: ALLOY. So it also exists in Laos! I don’t know EXACTLY what it means, but its best to be accompanied by a wide grin and a thumps up. It’s the perfect ice-breaker. When you like something you, just say ALLOY and everybody knows: the Falang likes it!

I heard it today at the market in Luang Nam Tha. Hungry I was hunting for some food and slowed down next to a stall where people were eating Noodle-soup, not too sure whether I like what I saw swimming in their bowls. A woman pointed at the empty seat besides her. I sat down. She gave me a spoonful of her soup to try and asked: ALLOY?? ALLOY!! I replied and ordered myself a steaming hot and very tasty Noodle-Soup.

With a bag full of sticky rice I left Luang Nam Tha and cycled towards Boten and the Chinese border. Only 30 km from the border I had the choice of cycling to China or heading towards Vientiane and the South of Laos. I took a right turn and headed southwards.

In a little village I tried to get comfortable on a stone, got out my sticky rice and was eyed by the villagers with curiosity. The road went up just to go down the other side again and went down just to climb up again. In the end it was a race against time because with every spin of my wheels the sky turned a little darker. As the first houses of another village appeared I was stopped by some people drinking beer at the side of the road. They filled a glass of ice cold Beer Lao for me and told me that I have reached my destination Oudomxai. After 2.5 month of alcohol abstinence 2 glasses of beer were a lot to take and before they got me completely wasted I bailed out and cycled to a guesthouse, a little tipsy.

The next day I encountered a road full of potholes and parts where the asphalt seemed to have gone missing. The road only went uphill. My legs were tired and soon I decided to try my luck with hitchhiking. I was on a road without much traffic, so I kept cycling till I heard an engine roaring behind me. I pulled on my brakes, held my thump out and the car came to a stop beside me. A friendly man gave me a ride to Pak Mong which was only 44 kilometers away. The many bumps in the road were too much for my bladder. I had to request a pee stop.  He didn’t speak English so I had to sign it to him. As soon as he got what I asked for he stopped, I jumped out and disappeared in the bushes, praying he won’t leave me and take off with ALL my belongings…

The route from Pak Mong to Luang Prabang was a blessing: I was cycling along a gorgeous river, there were many kids that treated me like a superstar as I was cycling past them, I received a lot of “free kilometers” by long downhill roads, the sun was shining and the birds were singing….was I dreaming?

Drinking Beer Lao with strangers

Hitchhiking to Pak Mong

Nam Ou river

My 20 dollar tent

It didn’t rain the whole day despite the grey clouds that were hanging in the sky above me. “Why would it rain during the night?” I thought to myself when I decided to camp in the middle of nowhere, on a little green piece of land at the side of the road that leads to Luang Nam Tha. The last village was about half an hour away and I had no idea how far the next village would be. My legs were tired and therefore the spot seemed so inviting I could almost hear it calling my name. Behind a bush I parked my bike and placed my bags so they were invisible from the road. I sat down onto my backpack and was waiting for the nightfall to provide me enough darkness to secretly pitch my tent. It was going to be my first experience of camping in the wild and I’m not going to lie…I WAS a bit scared.

The first problem occurred when the mosquitoes started to eat me. There were still villagers walking home from a long days of working in the fields, so I didn’t want to pitch my tent yet and put up a sign that says I’M A FALANG (foreigner) AND I’M ALONE, COME AND ROB ME. So I was waiting and fighting the bloodsuckers away.

It was almost dark enough now but I could still hear the hollow sound of a man cutting bamboo. Because a few meters from my “campground to be” there was some bamboo lying on the ground, it needed no Sherlock to know that the man will eventually pass this place and drop off the bamboo before returning to his home. Patiently I was waiting for the man to pack up work. In the meantime the grey clouds above me turned kind of black and threatening. Think positive! This is going to be a good way to test a 20 dollar tent!

2 workers passed. Their chatter warned me and I could duck down behind a bush. The last worker was quietly creeping through the bushes and I wasn’t quite sure if he spotted my hideout.

Now that I was only surrounded by the sound of nature I could finally build my shelter and crawl inside it to eat a nice meal of toast with jam and bananas on top. Fearful I was peeking through my mosquito net to check if there was really nobody coming along the way.

I tried to sleep but with every noise I opened my eyes in shock just to see that there was absolutely nothing going on outside my tent. Only the floodlights of passing trucks kept appearing on one side of my tent and disappeared on the other.

Then something strange was happening: There was a light but it wasn’t accompanied by the sound of an engine. It came closer and closer and lit up the inside of my tent. I unzipped my “door”, exposed my head to the light and wanted to say something like: “I surrender. Take everything but not my life!” I didn’t know the words in lao at that time so I tried it with: SABAIDEE?!? (Hello) Back came a friendly sabaidee, sabaidee and then the cone of light swiveled away from my face and lit up a little path where the sound of footsteps and quiet whispers disappeared.

The signs were all there: The lightnings, the clouds…I just didn’t want to face the truth but wasn’t surprised either when heavy drops of rain started falling onto my tent. Within minutes it started drizzling inside the tent. How refreshing I thought! But after a while I covered myself with my 2 dollar “raincoat”. Water came streaming in from the bottom and formed little puddles around my 6 dollar mat.

The next morning, after a little bit of sleep I woke up with a wet ass. What did I learn? You get what you pay for!

My hideout

The morning after...

FALANG ALAAAAAAAAAARM!!!

Heavily loaded with water and fruits I left Huay Xai and the Mekong behind and cycled inland.

The scenery passing me by is beautiful. It’s very mountainous, with green fields and forests.

Laos has some very noticeable differences to Thailand: For a country of its size it has not a lot of inhabitants and for the amount of inhabitants it has very little cars. With a frequency of 5-10 minutes cars and motorbikes were passing me as I was slowly rolling up the hills. It’s a cyclist’s dream!

Laos is poorer and much less westernized than its neighbor.  Most of the people live in villages, in simple wooden houses. The villagers work in the fields where they grow rice, vegetables and fruits and they exchange goods amongst each other. In the morning I can see people walking to the fields with tools in their hands and in the evening they walk back to their village. Some of them have bicycles, but it’s mostly kids going to school that make up the cyclists of the country.

Between the villages there are many little bamboo huts, along the side of the road, where the workers can seek shelter. I haven’t seen many of them in use, so they make up perfect places for my lunch breaks!

There are no 7-11’s or other impersonal supermarkets, but very lively marketplaces to buy cooked food, fruits and vegetables and small shops that sell the products they import from Thailand.

Whenever I cycle through one of the little villages the Falang (Foreigner) Alarm goes off.

As soon as one of the villagers spots me he informs the others by shouting FALANG!

All the children start waving and shouting: Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye! I hear eeeeeeeh’s and oooooooh’s and bye’s and sabaideeeeeeeeee’s.

It feels like taking part in a marathon. The only thing missing are the tables at the side of the road, with cups of water, Gatorade and little pieces of bananas.

Kids come streaming out of their houses and the crazy and brave ones even jump into the road to get a hand slap from the “Falang” that is cycling through their village. When I extend my arm and clap my hand against theirs, they jump up and down, and proudly turn around to check if all their friends have seen the spectacle.

The roads

The roadside shelters

Other lunch places

The villages

The landscape

The children

 

 

 

 

 

 

The admirers

There’s something about border crossings

As I was getting closer to Chiang Saen I was getting closer to the Mekong, the river that I will meet many times along my journey. When for the first time I saw its masses of water flowing in the direction I was headed, it filled me with excitement and peace.

With the first glance of the Mekong came the first time I saw the country that lies behind its eastern riverbank: Laos.

The grass is always greener on the other side right? In the case of Laos this was really true. Across the river I saw nothing but green hills.

Because there is no official border crossing in Chiang Sean I still had a day’s cycling ahead of me. To get a stamp in my passport I needed to get to Chiang Khong which lied about 55 km downstream. Since it’s downstream and the way leads mostly along the river I thought it’s going to be an easy ride. I was wrong. Not only the views that presented themselves in front of eyes were breathtaking, but also the rides up very steep hills. Many times I had to get off my bicycle and push it. And even that was challenging. Not for my legs but for my arms instead. Ironically that day also presented me with the first flat tire since I started this journey. After I cycled over broken glass so many times in the previous days and nothing happened, this happened now that I really have to exit the country…

A few hours later as planned I arrived at the Immigration office in Chiang Khong, where an official exit-stamped my passport and gave me a stern look goodbye. I wasn’t expecting a goodbye speech (something like it was nice to have you in our country please come back) but a smile would have been nice.

Because the Mekong forms the natural border between Thailand and Laos and there is yet a bridge to be built I had the pleasure of crossing the border on a boat!

“U taking that thing to Laos?” an American guy asked pointing at my bicycle. “Yeah? That is aaaaaawesome!” Yeah awesome…of course I’m not going to leave my lovely bike behind. What a horrible thought!

With bike and bags I jumped onto one of the long-tail boats that were floating on the river. Rapidly the houses of Thailand got smaller and smaller, and the shore of Laos came closer and closer. Goodbye Thailand, hellooooo Laos!

My first encounter with the Mekong

The golden triangle, where Thailand, Laos and Burma meet

Border crossing, from Chiang Khong in Thailand to Huay Xai in Laos

Nice, nicer, Thai?

The amount of friendly people I met in Thailand equals about the amount of people that tried to rip me off in India.

 Maybe because we were travelling by bicycle or because we looked dirtier than normal tourists, people didn’t see us as cash machines on wheels and didn’t want to take advantage of us. It was quite the opposite.

Apart from the first two nights in Bangkok we didn’t have to enter a single hotel in the whole time in Thailand! But not only did the policemen and the monks let us camp wherever we wanted, we met a whole lot of other kind people along the way.

One morning a white Honda pulled up in front of us and out came a hip looking young man, waving his arm up and down in order to stop us. He told us that he is from the Mountain bike club in Singburi and offered us to stay at their club house before we even spoke a word. Because the house was only 15 kilometers away and we wanted to cycle a little more we declined his offer with thanks. He left his number in case we have a problem we can call him ANYTIME. Later, when Theo and I were having lunch in one of the rest places along the road, the same white Honda appeared and the man came out with 2 ice cold drinks for us. He was worried about us and asked again where we would spend the night.  Then he offered to pick us up wherever we would get to today, drive us back to the club house and give us a lift to wherever we want tomorrow. Although it sounded tempting because he was such a nice guy we didn’t make use of his offer.

On a hot afternoon we stopped at a little gas station where we spotted a table to sit down. A minute after we made ourselves comfortable a man came out of the house and gave us two bottles of ice cold water.  He joined us, smoked some cigarettes and after a long chat he disappeared and came back with a whole plate of mangoes from his garden and proudly presented them to us.

Another guy that deserves to be mentioned here was a worker that gave us ripe bananas after he saw us taking some unripe bananas that were lying at the side of the road. We just picked about 8 unripe bananas off the bunch and he brought us a whole lot that were ready to be eaten. After a while he came back with a knife and chopped off the whole bunch of unripe bananas and handed them over to us.

In our time in Thailand we got so many bananas from different people that sometimes I couldn’t remember the last time we paid for bananas.

Then there was the nice doctor that gave us food (and even wanted us to take some money…but that’s another story…), the family that gave me a red bull so I could fly up and down the hills, all the people that gave us rides and all the people that waved to me from the back of the trucks and encouragingly showed me a thumbs-up, that made my time in Thailand unforgettable.

Drinking Red Bull with a lovely family

Theo and the bananas we got from a friendly worker

Hospital we camped at thanks to a nice doctor

Theo enjoying the drink we got from the worried stranger that appeared in his white Honda

Salty sweat and sweaty tears

So far this journey has been full of surprises, mostly very nice surprises. But there were also challenges.

One of those challenges was when Theo and I decided to go separate ways and I decided to keep going alone.

With mixed feelings I cycled out of Chiang Mai. ALONE. For days I haven’t seen any tourists. Now there were busloads of tourists passing me and I was wondering if I’d rather be part of them. NO WAY.

A woman stopped me and said: “You bicycle. Very good. Very eco”. Then she left me in a cloud of fumes as she drove off with her motorbike…

Under the relentless blazing sun I crawled up the hills, swallowed down some tears and wiped the salty sweat out of my eyes.

Dead tired I arrived in Chiang Dao. I spotted a temple and cycled through the gate. With sign language I asked a man if I can camp on the lawn behind the temple. Not sure whether he understood me he consulted his son who consulted his English speaking friend on his i-phone. The phone was passed between me and the son a couple of times and a whole family joined the discussion. Who are these people and why are they living next to the temple, I wondered.

I didn’t want to cause any trouble, so I said “no problem, no problem” and pointed out the gate, towards the road where hopefully another temple would come up.

It turned out they were only discussing where they could let me sleep. I was taken into the house and before I could resist the 2 sons were kicked out of their room and I was offered a place to sleep on a carpet on the floor. Their hospitality was overwhelming. The grandmother pointed towards the coffee table and grabbed me a packet of soymilk out of the cool box. The mother placed a plate of fruit on the floor of my room and said “sleep, sleep”. It was only 4 in the afternoon!

Later it knocked on my door and the mother handed me a plate of rice, followed by her son who gave me a bunch of bananas and a packet of crisps. After I ate I joined them in the living room and we tried to communicate as good as we could in Thai and English. I found out that they were from Bangkok and just visiting Chiang Dao. How they came to stay at the temple I don’t know…but for me they were heaven sent.

The next day, another encounter made me decide that cycling alone is easier than I thought!

Fully loaded with water and supplies the friendly family gave me, I continued along the road towards Chiang Rai. The road was flat and I was fast. Mae Sruai with a distance of 131 kilometers seemed a stone’s throw away. But then suddenly some hills presented themselves in front of me. Behind every curve I was hoping to see nothing but the blue sky (which in the meantime turned grey and threatening), but it just kept going up and up. The road would have been a treat, with little traffic and leading through small mountain villages where astonished people stared at me.

After a well earned 15 kilometers downhill I reached Mae Sruai just before darkness. At a temple that looked slightly abandoned I asked the only monk I saw for a place to sleep. He stepped out of the gate and called 2 ladies who helped with the translation. The ladies pointed to another house and walked me through a gate where on a wooden board I read the letters: “Akha women’s project Mae Sruai”.

Out of the house stepped a tall man and shouted in a Scottish accent: “I take it you’re lost?” I explained to him that I wasn’t lost at all but just in search of a camping spot. Looking at the sky above us he offered me a place inside the house. The timing was perfect because in that moment a massive rainstorm started and it rained the whole night through.

The house is a place where girls from the Akha hill tribe can stay during the school term. It was sponsored by a Dutch couple and run by a Thai woman, her mother and occasionally George the Scotsman who all welcomed me with great hospitality.

Family i stayed with in Chiang Dao

The road to Mae Sruai

Akha women's project Mae Sruai

The crash

A bump in the road and the heavy weight of my backpack crashing down is what broke my back rack. NO WORRIES! With my backpack in the usual position (on my back) I continued, watching out for a mechanics.  Just minutes after I heard my rack breaking I saw a little hut with some tools outside, that looked like it could be a bike (motorbike) repair shop, so I pulled on my brakes (not too gently as it appeared…). CRAAAAAAAAAASH I heard a much louder sound than the one before and saw Theo sliding into the street to my right. My rack was now totally bent and my wheel didn’t spin anymore. FUCK. But what a nice coincidence that this happened right in front of a bike repair shop! :D

The rack was bent back into position in no time but my back wheel appeared to be bent as well which was the much bigger problem. The mechanics helplessly looked at it and started to hammer onto my rim with a hammer and a stone. A little worried I let those cruelties happen to my bike… He got the wheel turning again but sent us to the next repair shop.

We decided to hitchhike. Since we had the option of going back to where we came from or to keep going in our intended direction, Theo placed himself on one side of the road and I stood on the other side, showing my thumb to every car that was coming along. Meanwhile a few worried villagers gathered and looked at us and the bicycles. There wasn’t much traffic on the road so it took about 15 minutes till a car stopped. Two friendly Thai men jumped out of the car, exchanged a few words with our helpful mechanics and helped us loading our stuff onto the back of their pickup truck.

In the next city they stopped at another motorbike repair shop. This time the mechanics was much more professional. He adjusted the spokes so the rim was straightened. He worked on our bicycles (Theo’s front wheel was a bit damaged as well) for about an hour, whilst our drivers were waiting to see if everything goes well. The mechanics didn’t want any money for the time he spent on our bikes and sent us to the next bigger city to double check his work. We thanked all of them a thousand times KOP KHUN KA, waved and smiled as we steered back onto the road.

Theo’s wheel made a funny sound so a few kilometers down the road we decided to hitchhike to Uttaradit which lied 60 kilometers away. Within minutes a car pulled up and a friendly lady told us that she and her husband were on the way to the next city about 25 km away. We thought about going with them but decided to wait for another car. In that moment I heard her say “I take care you, I take care you”. Sparks in her eyes told me that the helper syndrome has spoken out of her and there is no point in arguing. With bikes and bags we made ourselves comfortable at the back of the truck and relaxing 45 minutes later we reached Uttaradit.

We were brought to a bicycle shop where my bike got a new stronger rim and a new rack that was more suitable for the 15 kilos it has to carry. This bike shop turned out to be the best that could have happened to us. For 5-6 hours the very friendly mechanics worked on our bicycles and answered all the questions we had regarding quality and maintenance. For his labor he didn’t charge a single bhat and what’s more: His wife and his son, both cyclists, rode with us to the next temple where they organized us a room for the night! Next to a Buddha statue we rolled out our mats and were soon sound asleep.

Hitchhiking to Uttaradit after the crash

The 7-11 plastic crap

The first time Theo and I entered a 7-11 in Bangkok we were NOT impressed. All we saw were heaps of sugar, preservatives and plastic. We didn’t really appreciate the welcoming dingdong-door sound that is exactly the same in all the millions of little 7-11 stores that are sprinkled around Thailand like smarties on a cake, nor did we like the fact that the air inside the shop was cooled down so much I wondered why they need a fridge. But things change… We got used to the slices of toast that can be eaten in 1, maximum 2 bites and we created an addiction to soy milk. I heard that door sound so many times I even hear it in my sleep and I know one of the first things that I will do when I’m back in Thailand is to enter a 7-11 and buy some plastic crap. (Sorry Theo that you will miss out)

We also tried to dumpster dive in Thailand. Not so successful though…Apparently at the big supermarkets they have the policy to destroy food that is expired.

One day we parked our bikes at the back of a 7-11 and were amazed to see 3 boxes full of expired stuff, quietly rotting away. Hungry as we were we packed a whole cardboard box full of heart-attack-causing sweets. The mistake we then made probably saved us from a sugar overdose. Right there we sat down and started to eat some of those plastic wrapped hot dogs. Somebody must have seen us sneaking around at the back. Soon we were surrounded by 7-11 employees, that didn’t look like they appreciate the fact that we were helping them to get rid of their trash. With angry stares they took our booties. Noooooooooooooooo!

Wat what?

Our first friends the police helped us to get in touch with our second friends the monks.

In Chai Nat Theo and I went to the police station to ask them if they know a temple (Wat in Thai) where we could camp. First we were lost in translation. WAT WHAT?

What usually happens in those situations is: you get handed over a mobile phone and on the other line there is somebody that speaks a little bit of English. You explain what you want to the person on the phone, then you pass the phone back and your question gets translated. Nice! Two phone calls later we were told to hop onto the back of the police truck and were escorted to the temple by 4 policemen. A very friendly monk welcomed us and showed us where we can pitch our tent. The same monk didn’t want us to leave without breakfast the next morning and fed us with rice and a whole lot of other delicious and not so delicious dishes.

Every male Thai is expected to live as a monk at least once in his life. Only then does he become a man and his parents are proud of him. With Buddhism being the main religion in Thailand and this custom there are a lot of temples where monks live their strict life.

Monks usually seem serious, a bit shy and distant, especially towards women.

The young monks we encountered in the temple in Lampang were extraordinarily cheerful and were joking around whilst they taught us some Thai words. We stayed there for 2 nights and were spoiled with noodle soup, rice and all sorts of 7-11 sweets.

On the morning we left we wanted to take part in their morning chanting. It needed a temple gong, my mobile phone and Theo’s shouts to wake me up at 4.30 in the morning. But I wasn’t the only one that struggled with getting out of bed. Out of the maybe 15 monks that were living there only 3 were inside the temple chanting in front of some Buddha statues and pictures of the king of Thailand. After the chanting that only went on for about half an hour I went back to sleep and I’m pretty sure some of the monks did the same. :-)

After waking up at a more reasonable time we took pictures with 2 of the monks and said our goodbyes.

When we posed for the camera, there was always a security gap kept between the monks and me because women aren’t allowed to touch monks. The older monk (25 years old, has been living at the temple for 3 years) almost seemed scared that a sudden movement could accidentally cause a touch.

I found out about this rule when I, without thinking much, to show my gratitude to a monk, for letting us stay at the temple, extended my arm for a handshake (after he shook Theo’s hand) and the monk gave me a shocked, puzzled look. Since then I’m always careful around monks.

But apparently not all the monks take this precept serious. In Chiang Saen where I stayed at a temple, after Theo and I parted ways, I met a monk that came a little bit too close to me. We drank a coffee together and ate some sweets (I’m pretty sure the monk wasn’t allowed to do that :-). He asked me about my journey and I showed him some pictures on my camera and that’s when it happened. Our hands gently touched a couple of times. I backed off but the monk didn’t seem to mind the “accidental” contact. But let’s give him a break! The poor guy has been living at the temple for ten years!

In the morning before I left, he showed a lot of interest in the things I have in my backpack. I showed him my tent, my sleeping bag, the bag with my clothes in it, my bike repair stuff, my medicine… And then he discovered some tampons and pointed at them with question marks in his eyes. With hand signals he asked if they are little packet of face cream. I wanted to say yes just because I really didn’t fancy explaining it to him in sign language :-) but I was scared that lying to a monk would give me bad karma. So I decided just to tell him that they are things only women need and thank god (or Buddha) he left it at that.

Temple in Chai Nat

Temple in Sukhothai

Temple in Uttaradit

Monks from the temple in Lampang

Temple in Chiang Rai

Monk in Chiang Saen

Tourist Police: Your first friend

We only read the slogan of the tourist police AFTER we’ve already had the pleasure of experiencing their hospitality. They really were our first friends!

In Ayutthaya, 80 kilometers from Bangkok, we wanted to spend our first night. We arrived after dark, very tired and hungry, although we’ve eaten dust all day long, and had no clue whether it would be possible to find free camping spots in the cities of Thailand. It was a nice surprise to find out it was VERY easy. When we asked the man at the tourist police if he knows a safe camp spot, of course I was hoping he would point to the back where I saw a nice lawn. But that we also had a toilet, a shower, a kitchen, a table and Wi-Fi at the “campsite” THAT I didn’t expect. And there’s more: in a lot of the places we even got food! Great friends indeed!

From this day on, whenever we arrived in a city with a tourist police station we paid our first friends a visit.

We now know the tourist police of Ayutthaya, Nakhon Sawan (where I even got myself a new facebook friend), Phitsanulok, Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai and the regular Police of Sukhothai.

Here’s a little rating: (not to be taken too seriously of course)

Ayutthaya:

+ very friendly, good facilities, mangos from the tree in the yard, free use of the kitchen and fridge, it’s possible to stay a second night

- very aggressive mosquito’s, we were shooed away from the table when the officers wanted to take a break

Nakhon Sawan:

+ very friendly, facilities to cook water for noodle-soup, free guavas and wi-fi and possibility to charge electronic devices

- no lawn, hard ground, very annoying barking dogs, the door gets closed at night so no toilet

Phitsanulok:

+ very relaxed atmosphere, whiskey on ice and a roof to put your tent under in case of rain

- retarded dogs, no shower in the women’s toilet so I had to use the men’s shower where I bumped into a peeing policeman when I was walking out

Sukhothai:

+ nice after they understood what we wanted, a woman gave us mangos, sticky rice and water (but I’m not sure if the police should get credit for that)

- wanted to send us to a guesthouse, language barrier, can’t compete with the tourist police standards

Chiang Mai:

+ very funny and helpful, good location, very nice garden and huge lawn right by the river, wi-fi can be used inside where it’s nice and cool, they cook a delicious soup with fresh herbs from the garden

- depending on the officer the mood ranges from super friendly to very frosty, no shower facilitiy (BUT on the positive side: Every Thai toilet can be used as a shower if you just duck down and use the hose that is meant to clean one part of your body but just as useful to clean the rest!)

Chiang Rai:

+ offered us a place inside the house, got leftover food from lunch, provided mosquito nets and even acted as tourist information

- kicked us out the second night

They were all great and it’s hard to pick a favorite. Chiang Mai could have won the race by miles but then they played good cop bad cop with us…This is how the story goes:

I cycled to Chiang Mai while Theo was hitchhiking. Despite of his head start in Chiang Mai I was the one who tracked down the tourist police first. I didn’t even plan to ask for a camp spot, first I wanted to talk to Theo to see if he has already found a place to sleep. The officer that walked out of the station to welcome me seemed so easygoing that just jokingly I pointed at the nice garden behind the building and said “THIS would be a lovely camping sp…”. I didn’t even have to finish my sentence and the lawn was offered to me. The next morning another super friendly officer brought us a bowl of soup, with fresh leaves from their garden.  And another officer told us that we can stay as long as we want.

In the afternoon the mood changed. All the good cops seemed to have gone and out came the ones with the grim faces that seemed to think “What the fuck are you people doing here? Why don’t you go to a hotel?” Suddenly we weren’t welcome anymore and were asked to leave tomorrow. Fair enough.

Nevertheless the tourist police will stay our first friend. After all there are many more good cops than there are bad cops.

Ayutthaya

Tourist police in Nakhon Sawan

Tourist Police in Phitsanulok

Police station in Sukhothai

Tourist police in Chiang Mai

Tourist police in Chiang Rai