After wandering about looking for a room, we op ted for a small hole-in-the-wall place for travellers called the A-One Inn. Certainly not our version of what is A-1, but it sufficed as it was centrally loca ted near the Mahboonkrong Center, and we were only staying a couple of days. Although there certainly are attractions worth seeing in Bangkok , our interests lay north, and we made plans to leave at the first opportunity.  

The long 700 km. bus trip north to the Chiang Mai province was typical of Asia - with the lead-foo ted driver spending equal time on both sides of the roads.  The two most frequently replaced items on these old buses must surely be the gas peddle and the horn!   However they get the job done (at least most of the time), and some 12 hours later we arrived at our destination.                      

Chiang Mai was built in 1296 and is a fascinating place - with the 'old city' beings a neat square completely surrounded by moats.  There are over 300 temples in the area and many interesting sights. We stayed here much longer than planned because of the high quality of accommodation (even had a pool), food (fabu lou s at JJ's) and shopping (totally  outrageous night bazaar), incredible traditional Thai massages(yes, yes, yes), great weather (with cool nights) and the friendliness (for the most part) of the people!

Daytrips from Chiang Mai included Baw Sang, called the umbrella village because of its many umbrella manufacturers. A hilly mountain trip to Doi Suthep temple and national park, and a visit with the Meo hill tribe was also most interesting. Somewhere along the way we stopped at a natural hot spring and watched an old lady lowering a small wicker basket of eggs on a stick into the boiling spring. A few minutes later she hauled them up and presto - hard boiled eggs. They were delicious!                         

Christine and I also made a trip through Chiang Rai into the Golden Triangle - notorious for it's opium and heroin. The region is run by mafia style drug lords and some 50,000 Karen guerillas whose drug-bought weaponry is far superior to that of the army.  We hired a long boat to take us down the Mekong River which borders Burma , Laos , and Thailand , and along the shores of Laos , we caught glimpses through the trees of the heroin refineries and the wood used for building the crates that hold the opium. We did not  linger very long, as we were told anyone in the area after dusk would be shot!                         

A brief side trip into Burma (now called 'Union of Myanmar') revealed the poverty in this communist country. Sadly the shops in the border towns were selling a wide array of tiger and leopard skins, tiger teeth, bear gall bladders, horns, and antlers, and many other animal parts from endangered species.  It appears to be a country in chaos, with it's people desperately struggling to stay alive.                          

Travelling back to Chiang Mai, we visi ted a most interesting hill tribe called the Akha. Originally from Tibet , they are most distinctive looking, with beatlenut stained mouths and headdresses of beads, feathers, and dangling silver adornments. Their villages are along mountain ridges or on steep slopes from 1000-1400 meters. Among the poorest of Thailand 's ethnic minorities they resist assimilation into the mainstream and often cultivate opium for their own consumption. 

The timing going back to Chiang Mai was perfect as it coincided with the beautiful Loy Krathong Festival. It's a means of showing gratitude to the river for the water it has provided. Elaborate decorations of flowers, joss sticks, and candles are floa ted on specially made banana stalks and leaves down the river. In addition the night provided a huge parade, the moat all lit up with candles, and giant sky lanterns being released into the sky from some homes and temples to carry away any bad luck! After seeing how terrible the water pollution is, it's little wonder they beg the God's forgiveness!                         

While in Chiang Mai we learned of another  facinating tribe called the Padaung, in the northern Mae Hong Son province near Burma .  Although getting there sounded most difficult (the best places usually are), we thought the experience would be worthwhile, and set about making appropriate arrangements.                         

A short flight put us into Mae Hong Son - a sleepy and picturesque little town that proved delightful.  We stayed in the Piya Guest House loca ted on Jong Kham Lake . The lake is absolutely teeming with fish (it's forbidden to take them), and on one side there's a wonderful Buddhist temple and monastery. This was also an area where many of the brightly co lou red Lisu hill tribe would wander down into town.                         

After spending a day or two feeding the fish, and roaming about the interesting nearby hills and temples, we hired the fellow that owned the guest house to take us into the outback to the village of the Padaung or "longnecks" as they are called by the locals.                         

Piya had a 4-wheel drive jeep which proved just the ticket for the difficult terrain. Enroute we enjoyed the scenery of the Pai River and lush rice fields, as we drove through rivers, got bogged down in the mud holes, were bumped into by a herd of cows, and due to "road" conditions seemed to spend as much time in the air as sitting on the seat!  We drove as far as possible, then happily hiked in the rest of the way. Fortunately the rewards of the effort were certainly worthwhile.                         

During the trek in we observed interesting village scenes including the kids catching tiny fish in a muddy river by rapidly scooping the water from one area to another, water buffalo wallowing about in the river, and a 'ladder tree' - a tall tree with a bees nest at the top. The Padaung have attached sticks on the tree to climb up to the honey, and also to gather another source of food - ants (apparently crunchy and sour - yuk).                         

The women of the tribe are visually striking - adorned with metal rings around their necks that are stretched to incredible lengths. They start putting rings on when the girls are about six years old and keep adding on each year! In addition, they change the shape of  their legs also by adding more metal rings.  Although this bizarre custom apparently star ted as a status symbol to show wealth - it appears that the Padaung suffer a great deal from this painful tradition.

Eating appears a very painful and awkward, and the area at the base of the rings is a mass of scar tissue caused by continual chaffing of these heavy  rings.                         

If the women commit adultery, the men remove the rings and since the neck vertebrae are no longer connec ted , the head cannot be suppor ted and falls over onto their back or chest and the women dies. Not a pretty picture!                           

This hill tribe, originally from Burma , were farmers that would clear land, grow food while the land was good, then move on to another area. The Thai government put a stop to this practice, and they now find themselves confined to a few remote areas. While the men seek work in nearby towns, the women now struggle for survival from the meager proceeds of their weaving.  Although they indeed appeared a troubled lot, we were trea ted kindly and allowed to take some rather remarkable photos.                         

We also hiked out to another interesting village which is home to the Kaywa tribe - also known as the "long ears". Much like the Padaungs, they alter the body by suspending weights to stretch their ear lobes - and by adding metal rings to reform the shape of their legs. Unfortunately their were only a few people around, as most had left for another village to be seen by a doctor and trea ted for the widespread malaria.                         

From Mae Hong Son, we retraced our way back to Bangkok , where we spent one more night before leaving for our next destination - the island of Sumatra in Indonesia .                        

Our point of entry was the noisy, dirty, crowded, expensive, humid, and ugly city of Medan . With it's conges ted rubble-strewn streets and choking carbon-monoxide fumes this unfriendly city is one of the worse spots in Indonesia , and in our opinion should be exi ted a.s.a.p.! (almost sounds like we didn't enjoy it here doesn't it!)                         

Unfortunately we had to overnight, and stayed in a dump called Hotel Sumatra. Dodging traffic we rushed about trying to find a place that would change a travel check so we could leave town. After getting ripped off at a money changer we accidentally ran across a restaurant we had read about that supposedly served good lobster. We thought if nothing else we would have a good meal before leaving - wrong!                         

The woman in the place spoke absolutely no English and since we didn't see it on the menu, so I tried the usual - sign language. When I did my imitation of a lobster (which by the way I thought was pretty good) she looked terrified, if she had seen a ghost. Her jaw dropped, eyes bugged out and still staring at me, she backed right up into another table and almost fell over.  Recovering, she rushed off to the back of the restaurant where she hid, and kept peeking around the corner to see if we had left.                            

We have no idea what my gesture meant to her but it had one hell of an impact!  So although we didn't get our great dinner - we sure had a good laugh over the situation, and the next day mercifully got a flight out of town south to Pandang. 

In the airport we met a nice couple from Switzerland (Maggie & Andy) who were about seven months into a world tour, and had just come out of Vietnam . We exchanged addresses and gave them the name of some places to stay in Bali - hoping to reconnect with them there in a few weeks time.                         

Arriving in Pandang we had an awful hassle with the taxi driver, and madly scrambled around trying to change our plane tickets, before heading up into the mountains to the town of Bukittinggi - a matriarchal society where only the women can own business and land. Guess we know whose idea this was to visit this primitive culture!                         

Anyways, it is quite a pleasant town nestled in the mountains, and is a cultural and educational center for the warm and friendly Minangkabau people. Pompadoured horse carts trot around the streets as taxis along with bicycles that have had the handlebars replaced with a car steering wheel, which makes for an amusing sight.                         

We took in some of the local dancing which included dancers in a trance like state dancing on broken glass, and the Silek dance - the Minangkabau's version of self defense performed with huge knives (certainly wouldn't mess with these fellows!).       

Bukittinggi also has a landmark "Big Ben" clock tower in the center of town and is home to a huge market flooded with thousands of people coming in from every nook and corner of these highlands. This colossal bazaar is reached by either climbing the 300 step stairway or by the twisting cart lanes. This market contains a wild array of wares and is a profusion of overpowering smells, co lou rs, and sounds. It is perhaps the strangest assemblage of snake oil merchants and buskers in all of Indonesia .                          

One day we trekked out to Ngarai Canyon also called "Buffalo Hole" because  buffalo often wander too close to the edge and are killed by the fall. It's a 4 km-long chasm with sheer rocky walls plunging 120 meters down to the riverbed below. Enroute we passed an elaborate tunnel built in WWII by the Japanese.. We also climbed up a strenuous path that ends at 100 giant stone steps leading up into the quiet silversmith village of Kota Gadang . Dripping in sweat from the humidity, the strategically loca ted house selling bottles of beer and pop was a most welcome sight!                          

Since we arrived in the rainy, season we found the weather very cold and wet and the roads a mess. Very few people visit during this season and Christine and I were the only ones in our hotel (Fort De Kock) and usually had any restaurant to ourselves (maybe it was just because the food was so bloody bad!).  In fact the food we found most edible was some concoction made from a tree root!         

The other major problem was mosquitoes - swarms of the kamikaze little buggers! We took one of the blankets and stuffed it in one of the windows in the bathroom to try and keep them out but it didn't seem to help much. Each morning the sheets were speckled in our blood - we were obviously providing an All-U-Can-Eat buffet for them!              

One night while out walking we heard this sudden lou d bizarre noise at our feet. We looked down and saw a humongous weird looking shape thrashing it's wings on the ground. Turns out it was a Kumbang - about the size of a hummingbird it is the largest beetle in the world and looked like a creature fresh out of Jurassic Park !                 

The fellow running our hotel (Amin) was of the Minangkabau people and liked to be called "Edi Amini". Certainly was easy to remember!  Amin kept us entertained with match tricks, and explaining many of the interesting customs of his people.               

The Minangkabau never like to say exactly what's on their mind. They have a certain code of actions used to convey their message. As an example if a father is very angry at his son - rather than try and defend himself the son simply pulls on a pair of his fathers pants. When the father sees this he backs off and nobody loses face.   If a guest is in the house for dinner and there is no more food left - rather than say so the wife goes into the kitchen and stirs a pot lou d enough for all to hear.  When a son wants to get married, rather than discuss this with his parents, he simply hangs his clothes in the kitchen to relay this message!            

We had good fun with Amin in our discussions - his favourite expression was "different field - different grasshopper".  I think that said it all pretty well.          

After a few days here we left by bus for Padang . The filthy old Sumatra buses are something else. They fill every seat on the bus then the driver's helper sets about jamming another 20 or 30 into the isles or sitting on top of others. At one point he bashed my leg with a wooden box and I lost it, grabbed him by the shirt, letting go a verbal barrage that certainly had everyone's attention - as we were the only foreigners on the bus.  Now, add to this sardine-like status, c lou ds of cigarette smoke, blaring music so lou d that we had to make some earplugs out of toilet paper, twisty pot-holed roads and you have transportation that we would thoroughly unrecommend to anybody!        

From Padang we flew to Denpasar on Bali , then headed in to familiar Kuta, where we had been several times before.  When we walked in to Suji Bungalow we were warmly gree ted by Ayu who remembered us from our stay 2 years before.  "Hello Mr. Mark - welcome welcome"  - it was almost like being home!                 

Now the days start to blend as they are full of relaxing - lazing by the wonderful pool, enjoying the fabu lou s dinners at Dayu, huge papayas, avocado/cheese jaffles etc. etc. etc. Suji is wonderful place to stay, off the crazy main streets where everybody wants to sell you something.  In one 30 second span we had buskers try and sell us a watch, a pineapple, and an elephant!  (also high on the list is transport, drugs, perfume, hair braiding, yo-yos, cold drinks, and puppet ducks).            

The second day there we bumped into our friend Kay(also from Victoria ) while "negotiating"  in a shop along the twisty and narrow Poppies Gang. Later that night we got together to exchange travel info, as Kay was soon leaving for Thailand ), and got very pollu ted on the local grog called Arak (a sneaky and  potent concoction somewhat like rum, but made from coconuts).           

Sunning, reading, swimming, walking the beach, drinking, and eating in a setting that's paradise - yeh it's a tough job - but somebody has to do it!        

A few days later we were deligh ted when Maggie & Andy appeared (Swiss couple we had met in Medan ).  We spent a week relaxing and learning of each other's countries, then put our backpacks in storage, and headed north together to Ubud. We all stayed at another great spot with fabu lou s gardens called Artini II's. The grounds are so meticu lou s they actually cut the grass with scissors!                           

The four of us really got on well together, and enjoyed what became an evening ritual of getting together on our loseman porch and having an "Arak Attack" or some local whiskey called Mae Kong, before heading out to some exotic dinner. We were quite often joined on the porch by a huge gecko that perched on the wood beams overhead. Our morning alarm clock was either the chickens wandering about, or the flock of ducks in the adjacent rice fields.                  

Christine and I ren ted mountain bikes and toured about some few villages, absorbing the local sights. We stopped at one woodcarving spot and purchased a bunch of fish and frogs, which we had to carefully balance while peddling our butts back home.      

In Ubud we ren ted a van with Maggie & Andy to tour the island including Candidasa, Kintamani, Singaraja, Bedugul, and Lake Batur . Stopped for lunch beside Lake Batur and had a dis gus ting lunch - greasy food and I had a couple of dead flies fried up with mine.  Wonderful fruits in the area - mangosteens, rambutans, and juicy passion fruit. We all had a good laugh on the trip as everything on the gutless van was bass-ackwards for Andy (driving on the wrong side of the road, shifting with the left hand, hitting wipers instead of turn signals). Dealing with all this while trying to taking in a few of the sights and keep alert enough to dodge the many maniacal local drivers proved quite a task - but he did very well indeed!                 

On our last night together the four of us ordered a specially prepared dinner of Balinese Duck. Four people served the huge meal, complete with Bintang, at Artinis poolside gazebo. Just  as we were about to eat the power went out so they brought us out candles. A perfectly romantic dinner and a lovely ending to some very happy days.             

Traveling on our own once more, we bussed back to Kuta and spent a few more days at Suji enjoying the sun and pool. Then with swamped with our Balinese purchases, including a huge canvas painting and heavy wood carvings, we said our goodbyes and left for our third visit to fascinating Hong Kong .                  

Finding accommodation in H.K. proved a real hassle, as we arrived in the peak season. Most everything is brutally expensive and fully booked.  Since it was dark, and we had some "serious baggage",  we took a taxi to a hole-in-the-wall hostel called the STB in a commercial area somewhat out of town. The tiny room behind a metal street gate and two more locked doors was barely large enough to swing a cat - and even at that the price was over $70 Can. per night!! (There went the budget all to hell!)                 

The next four days were spent roaming the streets and night markets in serious "retail therapy".  In the Temple Street night market I bought a pair of dress pants that had to be taken up. The fellow took the pants, jumped up on a table, then climbed up a ladder through a hole in the ceiling, hemmed the pants perfectly, and had them back down to me in an incredible 26 sec. We actually put a stopwatch on him as we had witnessed the same routine the night before. Truly amazing.                          

One day while browsing we heard gunshots, and were quickly cleared off the street as dozens of police came running with guns drawn to block off the area and surround a store that was being robbed!                    

      The atmosphere is always exciting in Hong Kong, and as usual we enjoyed our stay, but found ourselves looking forward to the cleanliness and customs of Canada .                         

Without going into a lot of detail, this touches on a few of the events of this trip, and although it seems rather tame in comparison to our other trips to Asia, we still enjoyed a good time, and collec ted many more fond memories of a fascinating part of the world that will always hold our fondness.                                                                                                                         

Mark H. Colegrave