the road to maesalong

tuesday morning, i woke early, packed, checked out and went for a coffee and breakfast after picking up another motorbike. just after our coffee arrived, the tall, casual bloke from the previous night’s meeting walked in so casually i had assumed the aussie called him to join us. a few moments behind was his irish friend, and the four of us ate breakfast and laughed hysterically while the tall aussie pointed up to another town, away from our original destination of chinag rai. aw yea, mae salong is soo much nisah than chiang rai, knowwhatimean? it’s this old sor!- of Chinese influenced town, and they used to grow opium, but when the yanks wanted them to stop, they started growing tea. so now all they do is grow tea. it’s so much nicer than chiang rai. it’s only about 3 or 4 hours up there, you’ll get a map and head in that direction.
so, ambitious and excited, we spent an hour locating the primary highway to take us north. finally on 107, opening up the motorbikes to 90, 100 km/h, my helmet lifting off my head with every gust of wind, the sun shining and grit coating out faces. hours we rode like this, up winding mountain switch backs, straight on long stretches of highway, weaving around pedestrians and slower bikes, getting passed by pickups and small sedans, through a brief but stinging rainstorm, blinded on a dusty choke of mountain road. stopping only for a toilet or a photograph, once to buy a pomelo and some deep green, fragrant oranges from roadside stands. sweaty, gritty, hands vibrating from gripping the handlebars, ankles stinging from sun and wind. hours on the road, optimistic that in a moment or two we’d see the signs. no, it’s only an hour up the road; no, fang’s just a bit from it. at one more last stop for prawn crackers and a sweet cake, the woman said “two. two,” when we said “maesalong? mea-mae salong?” exhausted, we sat at a table and ate out snacks, saving energy for the daunting road. already 5 hours from chiang mai, there was no way to turn back, neither of us wanted to, but a meal and a hot shower was the only thing on my mind. seeing our disappointment, the woman brought us a liter bottle of chilled water and two glasses, and waved kindly when we sped off.
not wasting any time, soaring over highway at 85, 90 km/h, scanning any sign in Thai or English for MaeSalong. Finally I crossed a bridge and the white woman walking it, the first westerner I’d seen since Chiang Mai, followed closely by a sing for MaeSalong, 43 km ahead. Winding ever deeper into the mountains, and the sun sinking, the air became cooler, moist and sweetly fragrant. The valley opened into the most beautiful, breathtaking sight I have ever seen. Words fail to capture the vast green fields, protected by craggy mountains carpeted in trees. A grey buffalo grazed in one, and the trucks and motorbikes we passed beeped their horns and waved cheerfully as we sped by.
I was beginning to think MaeSalong didn’t exist, that we would never find it, that this was some bizarre journey into the surreal with an indeterminate ending. At the hand-pumped gas station, the owner assured us that the village was on the other side of the mountain, and a sign spelled 13 km ahead.



gassing up.

Dark now, the air cooler and heavy, I pulled on a jacket and braced for the steep rise and fall of the road, the sharp corners and hidden bumps. seeing lights in a mountain seemingly forever away, I prayed that our destination was inhabited, let alone lit with electricity. Determined, pressing forward, delirious from the long ride, the reality of motorbiking through the mountains of northern thialand, the intoxicating beauty of the sunset, finally MaeSalong appeared. After visiting 3 different hotels and guesthouses, we settled on a little bungalow for 800 Baht, overlooking the valley.
An adequate curry and a hot shower later, falling exhausted into my hard twin mattress on the floor of my little bamboo bungalow, still mad from the reality of the present, feeling a little uneasy that for the first time, I am a stranger, isolated from the world I know, now cracking open another window onto the globe, another look into the lives of people a world away from my familiar soy milk and beat up jeep and family and comfort.



view from bungalow one.