The rundown

Wow, a lot has happened since we last posted, but here's my best recollection. We took the slow boat up the Mekong from Luang Prabang to the Thai border at Chiang Kong. We left in a torrential rainstorm and were wet and cold the first few hours. Soon the physical beauty of the surrounding and the metaphysical boredom of the trip set in. G and I both consumed at least one entire novel within the next 20 hrs. Halfway up the river you spend a mandatory evening in a riverside town which David Lynch seems to have had a hand in. Im not sure if's the inbreeding, the opium, or the contrant flow of never-to-be-seen-again tourists, but the locals in the little village seem a bit out of sorts. We spent a night in a guesthouse in which large rats rambled along the wall, unpreturbed by human company.
The next morning we came to our senses and realised that the travel agent in Luang Prabang had sold us a ticket only halfway up the river, cleverly wording his pitch and answers to our questions so as to subtly condition us to believe our ticket went all the way to Thailand. We applauded his American-like business sense and made a note to track him down and execute him gangland style if ever we returned to Luang Prabang.
We considered getting on a fast boat from there- 3 hours of earsplitting jet engine din muffled only by the mandatory crash helmet, but opted against it at the last minute.
So it was another long day on the boat with the unspoken understanding that the boat would never make it to the border in time to cross to thailand and we'd be spending the night in another Laos border town. At one point we came upon another riverboat which had run aground. It floundered in the midday heat manned by a crew who for some reason all wore nothing but bath towels. We tied up to them, all the passengers switched over and we attempted to get her down the river, but appantly the steering mechanism was screwed up, as we keeped veering towards the banks. We gave up and left them tethered to a makeshift hitching post which a crewman had sunk in the sandy bank like a lawn dart.
We spent the night on the Laos side of the river, looking longingly at the shining prosperous Thai riverbank and it's promise of Mexican food. In the morning we crossed by boat and had some breakfast in Chiang Kong. After changing all our kip to baht (with fellow travellers- the haughty Chiang Kongians wouldn't even touch Lao kip) and getting many differing stories about the bus schedule, we joined forces with a crazy dutchman and caught a bus to Chiang Mai.
After arriving in the city we headed to a hotel I had stayed in before. At that time, it was a clean, professionally run operation owned by, I think, Koreans. After checking in we realised that things had changed and it was now a dumpy haven for slovenly ladyboys. We dealt with it and went to dinner at a cool vegetarian restaurant i knew nearby. Rude, the dutchman, was quite a character. He drank Coffee and Coca Cola at the same time, pretty steadily all day. He told us stories about his travels all over the world and gave us his quite astute conception of international relations and the state of the world. We went to check e-mail and I got a message from my brother that my Dad was in the hospital there in Chiang Mai.
I had phoned my dad 2 weeks before and told him to come up to Chiang Mai to meet us. I hadn't spoken to him since then, but now apparantly his diabetes was troubling him and he had checked into the hospitals in the city. My brother send the number of "his guy in Chiang Mai". I called, not sure what to expect, and within ten minutes Chai, his attendant Tuk-Tuk driver and personal assistant arrived to take us, not to the hospital, but to the guesthouse where my dad was staying.
As it turns out, my dad had been thinking about going in for some tests but really was just up to his usual "business". We spent the next two days hanging around with him, which was fun, exhausting, hilarious, sad, everything that any length of time spent with my dad can be.
We went to some huge jewlery showrooms and to a silver outlet where he is getting a large order of jewlery custom made for reselling. I was witness to how my father does "business" with the Thais- downing free drinks, chain smoking and holding forth on philosophical and personal matters with the salepeople who apparantly don't know what to think of this strange looking man ordering large amounts of jewlery and acting crazy. I think at least they get a kick out of dealing with Farang who are not rich Texans or Germans on bus tours or overbearing Russian mafia types. "Im very proud of you!" my dad would shout at the manager, who was a young, good looking professional. "You do good job! I think you're for the poor people. Me too, I hate the rich! The young people are coming, gonna make a new world." They all nodded and smiled and the manager's wife and co-manager would be like, "OK, you want.. saphire?" and he'd be like "Saphire. Yes very beautiful. I love beauty. Like Thai people.. flower, monkeys. Not money! You have beautiful toes." And it went on like this.
The next day we all took his Tuk-Tuk (always Chai is around, driving and taking care of the crazy old man). To some hot spring well outside of the city. It was fun, we cooked duck eggs in the sulpher-fumed springs and they were delicious, then soaked in hot mineral baths. On the way back we picked up food to cook at a bar-b-que at his guesthouse that night. He dropped us off at our hotel with the admonition to get my motorbike back to the guesthouse to start cooking as soon as possible. I quick checked my e-mail and found out that Erin, Angie and the vermont girls were in town, only for one night before heading into Laos. She said they'd be at their guesthouse for the next 20 minutes before going out and it would be the last chance to find them.
So began a hectic, crazy night. First, we had to get Rude, who we were planning to take to the Bar-b-que. We rented him his own motorbike and headed out to find Erin and Angie's G.H. from vauge directions from some locals. What we hadn't counted on was in was Sunday night, and the Sunday market in Chiang Has morphed from an isolated bizaar near Ta Pae gate to a near city-wide festival with packed streets, noise and chaos. We raced to try to find the guesthouse, but the traffic and confusing layout of the streets made it quite head-ache inducing. Finaly we gave up, knowing we were expected at my dad's guest house, and headed there. And got lost. After driving all the way around the gate, i got my bearings again and we found the place.
We whipped up some food and had a good time at Crossroads guesthouse, which is a new homestay operation just opened by another Dutchman who rents the house, lives there with his wife and has opened it up to travellers looking for a different experience in the city. After dinner I found a computer and check e-mail again. The connection was terrible but finally i received another message from erin- they would all be at an italian restaurant in the heart of the old city for a while, we had to find them there. So, after getting directions and saying thanks and goodnight to the folks at crossroads, we pointed our bikes out again.
The restaurant we were looking for was in the midst of the market craziness, so we had to ride our bikes gigerly through the throngs of people for blocks, back and forth trying to make sense of the landmarks. Finally we rolled up and found Erin, Angie, Jess, Abigail, Brendan and a bunch of other kids they been trekking with. Much hugging and greeting ensued.
A long night of frantic, 3 and 4 way conversations, wildness, catching up, very condensed stories, and fun followed. It seems like we were trying to pack what we had planned to be a least a few days of traveling together into a few hours. We all made our way to Rasta bar, then when they kicked us out of there to Spicy restaurant. We had some great conversation with everybody and tried to give them some advice, as we'd just come from where they were headed. At the end of the night (beginning of the morning?) it was just me, Erin, and Rude dancing to the worst music in the back of Spicy with some wacky Thai ladies and ladyboys. Oh man.
Anyway, much luck to the vermont girls and we'll see you India. We'll pick you up at the airport in Delhi and roll out the red carpet.
The next day we had to move our stuff to my Dad's place and catch the bus to Pai. So here we are in this hip little mountain town which reminds Genevieve of Boulder about 5 years ago. Im trying to unwind, relax and recharge my travel batteries for the madness that will be India. We've hit a bad planning speedbump, though, realising that nowhere in our budget is 120 bucks alloted for visas to India (It's 25 bucks extra each for US citizens- whats up with that?!). Well, I guess maybe my Dad might be able to slip us a little loan in between investing in jewlery and keeping a thai manservent on the payroll. Who knows.
OK, enough. You will not hear from me until we're in a different continent. Any continent. "Happiness to Everybody", like the Waste Baskets say.