I had decided not to walk in the city even though my flight wasn't until 1530. I didn't want to get all sweaty before an overnight flight. So I had a relaxed breakfast, showered, and took a tuk tuk to the airport at 1100. I would take it easy in the air-con, have lunch, then check in.
A quirk of Chiang Mai airport is that baggage screening is at the entries. I was under the mistaken impression that the eateries were outside the quarantined area so I walked along the outside. Who should I bump into but M from yesterday. ¡Que casualidad! (coincidence) we exclaimed.
M was headed for Phuket for her next adventure. We chatted for a while in Spanish until her check-in time. She reiterated her offer to show me around Paris if I turned up, promising me French pastries and cheese. Such a tempting offer.
Food is good in Thailand; it's hard to find a bad cook. Thai are so polite; the Wai is such a touching gesture. I never saw a Thai person lose their temper even with traffic jams; losing one's cool is poor form. It was a cheap destination; perhaps there were times when I should have bargained, but the amounts involved were petty.
I liked the humid climate less, but better than Bangkok. Mosquitoes managed to infiltrate the screened dorm, requiring repellent. Crowds were tiring, but what do you expect given that Chiang Mai is such a tourist magnet; it seemed like every other person was a visitor. And a lot of the farangs are from Asia now; ads for Air Asia were all over. I was never sure if I was seeing tourist Thailand or real Thailand. Or even if they could be separated. It looked like Chiang Mai had been receiving visitors for a long time. Some of those were on medical or dental tourism, taking advantage of the low cost.
On the flight out of Thailand, the expat two seats away who read the Bangkok Post and who appeared to be going back for a visit, asked Your first holiday in Australia? No, I'm going home. Silly person. That was pretty much the end of that conversation.
When I thought back to the pictures that drew me to Chiang Mai and compared them to the ones I managed to take, I wondered if trying to see the same things was futile. Perhaps I should just travel in my armchair. But I reflected, I will never take pictures as good at the glossies in travel books and competitions, but the sights are only a part of my experiences, which are mine to cherish.
I liked the humid climate less, but better than Bangkok. Mosquitoes managed to infiltrate the screened dorm, requiring repellent. Crowds were tiring, but what do you expect given that Chiang Mai is such a tourist magnet; it seemed like every other person was a visitor. And a lot of the farangs are from Asia now; ads for Air Asia were all over. I was never sure if I was seeing tourist Thailand or real Thailand. Or even if they could be separated. It looked like Chiang Mai had been receiving visitors for a long time. Some of those were on medical or dental tourism, taking advantage of the low cost.
On the flight out of Thailand, the expat two seats away who read the Bangkok Post and who appeared to be going back for a visit, asked Your first holiday in Australia? No, I'm going home. Silly person. That was pretty much the end of that conversation.
When I thought back to the pictures that drew me to Chiang Mai and compared them to the ones I managed to take, I wondered if trying to see the same things was futile. Perhaps I should just travel in my armchair. But I reflected, I will never take pictures as good at the glossies in travel books and competitions, but the sights are only a part of my experiences, which are mine to cherish.
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