Feb. 9 Chiang Mai

Yes, I rode an elephant. It's what people come to do in Chiang Mai (in
northern Thailand) with or without the standard three-day trek, river
rafting on rubber and/or bamboo rafts, visiting a beautiful waterfall and
traipsing through the living rooms and backyards of various hill tribes -
Hmong (Chinese descendants), Karen (Burmese and indigenous), Lahu, Akha etc.
Having done pretty well all of that at one point or another already, on this
and on other trips, except the elephant ride, I figured a one-day trek was
enough. This would include a short (albeit steep, hot and difficult) "walk"
to a couple of hill tribe villages, riding an elephant for an hour, eating a
locally made Thai lunch, visiting a waterfall and rafting on bamboo rafts
down a river for about 45 minutes. A full meal deal and I wouldn't have to
freeze my butt on an overnight or hike with a hangover.

Riding an elephant is similar to riding horseback -- if you get an older,
docile animal, it's interesting for the first 10 minutes and then you wish
you brought a book. Luckily I ended up on a younger rogue --  who went by
the more-than-appropriate name of Mr. Dodo -- and spent the ride being swung
from side to side as the elephant lurched from one side of the path to the
other in search of food and trees to trample over. It was basically like
being on an amusement park ride that had cut costs by using wooden benches
for seats and had foregone the seatbelts. Keeping from being thrown or
sliding out when the elephant came to a dead stop, often on a downhill
slope, took a lot of effort. At one point our elephant stopped, uprooted
half a tree, broke off a short limb and for a moment we thought he was going
to beat it over the head of our driver, who sat with his legs wedged behind
the elephant's ears and who was using what looked like Captain Hook's hook
to prod the elephant in the right direction. Thankfully, the elephant only
wanted to beat itself around the legs for some reason and our driver's life
was spared, although we soon expected the white-coated elephant
psychologists to come over to examine our self-flagellating mammoth and give
us the bad news that we'd have to disembark mid-trip while junior was taken
away to elephant reform camp. No one came but one hour of this was more than
enough and we were glad to get off, feed our carriers and head for a locally
prepared lunch, sitting on benches that stayed in one place. After lunch was
a hill tribe and waterfall visit and bamboo rafting. The latter was an
unexpected pleasure as we floated languidly on 40-foot bamboo poles that had
bee put together with nothing more than a few thick rubber ties, propelled
by a poler who stood at the front of the long raft, poling off the bottom of
the shallow river or pushing off the rocks or shoreline. We past villagers
washing in or gather water from the stream. Children played everywhere and
splashed water on us. And near the end of the rafting trip, we passed a
series of platforms that were built into the side of the bank where families
would come to picnic. They brought games and fishing equipment and musical
instruments, along with the mandatory pots and portable barbecues. It was
not unlike a scene in Jericho Park and I was disappointed that I had
listened to our tour guide who told us not to take cameras as they might get
wet. The danger of this was minimal and the rewards great.

Chiang Mai is an odd collection of travel agents (as ever-present as in
Bangkok), wats/temples (as ever-present as ... well ... everywhere) and
crafts. In fact, it has become a centre for woodworking, jewelry making,
lacquer ware, antiques and even carpets (materials from Kashmir, knotted in
Thailand). By this point in my travels, I was feeling rather watted-out and
I had done my mini-trek so I snagged a spot on a tour of some outlying
factories.

We tuk-tuked from one to another, pretending we had the money for the
$10,000, 18th-century, bronze bust; the $15,000 silk prayer rug; or the
$40,000 ruby and diamond earrings. The highlight of this tour, out on the
eastern road out of Chiang Mai, were the woodworking and lacquer shops who
allowed you to wander into the back and see the craftspeople at work. It was
amazing to see the detailed work to inlay abalone into a tabletop, carve a
six-inch deep, three-dimensional landscape out of a solid tree trunk or
hand-scratch a design into the cover of a lacquer dish that will later be
treated with gold leaf. The designs and detailed work were stunning and it
was a good think I had let my VISA card in my guesthouse.

Next week -- out of Thailand ... along the Mekong.