Chiang Mai

"Learn these phrases on the train" says No.1 son. "Yes well. Perhaps I will if I can ever find said train. Five minutes ago we arrived at Bangkok's Hualomphong and plunged in amongst folk frantically dashing about or else seemingly fast asleep on any available horizontal surface. Husband had muttered "Impossible, we'll never get the right one" before sinking onto a bench and losing himself in a book.

So it was up to me then to try my usual smile, gesticulate, smile, mime act….. "Chiang Mai Sleeper?" Hands together on side of head, yawn, please help old lady, smile……Ah a result. I'm encouraged to go in a certain direction by a helpful young man. Not easy this as social etiquette dictates he can neither touch me to pull me through the melee nor, being I estimate a good 25 years younger, can he go before me so it was all rather tricky, but we made it. Excellent. Now all that remains is to retrieve Husband. Oh dear, not so easy. Young man is worried that I hadn't understood that this is "my" train and has enlisted the help of others who surround me and try to sort of shepherd me up the steps. "No, I need my Husband,- I MUST HAVE MY HUSBAND"….

We're off and I'm so excited. Like a small child I press up close to the window so as to not miss any of this wonderful country. First we chug through the suburbs. High rise block, shack, high rise, smaller shacks, noodle stall perilously close to the rails, even smaller shacks; and each of them with their own spirit house. Rather like a trendy bird-table these are designed to reflect the size and status of the building it serves and offerings are heaped upon it daily to help placate any harmful spirits that may be lurking about.

Gradually the sprawling suburbs give way to the lush green paddy fields of Thailand's rice bowl and in the distance the darker green of the rain forests. (jungle?)

In two and a half hours I count that the floor of our carriage has been mopped 9 times and attacked with a large feather duster twice. Amazing. Bed time was fun. The helpful floor mopper showed us how to put up our beds and modesty curtains and provided us with pristine sheets and hot towels. Despite having bought the tickets together and there only being two other people in the carriage, husbands bunk is at the other end, so no chatting over the day's events together. I just know I'll not be able to sleep so best get stuck into learning No.1 son's useful phrases……..I do not want a tuk-tuk - hello - goodbye - no tuk-tuk - thank you - where is the station? NO tuk-tuk…..Oh, it's morning. Had a fantastic sleep (trains…you just got to love em. Ed), just take a peep out of curtains to see if Husband is about. " Chaa, Kaafae, noodles?" says the young man with the mop. Had he really been standing next to my bed waiting for me to wake?!!

Chiang Mai in the early morning is truly beautiful. Still exciting, but generally calmer, with a cleaner and a brighter feel than Bangkok. Ignoring No.1 son's advice, we avoid the taxi's and head to one of the hundreds of tuk-tuks. We go to the oldest guy in the hopes of a slow gentle trip. He takes a glance at the scrap of paper we have with the hotel name on (Oh, does he read we wonder?) and dashes off at break neck speed up the side of the moat. Our driver turns round and grins encouragingly before screeching to a halt and dashing into a store to emerge with a can of "Red Bull." There is much gesticulating to explain to us that he needed it because he was very, very sleepy!!

After a few days exploring the city markets, famous night bazaar and a trip on the river we traveled (by taxi!) to the northern outskirts to visit an out-of-the-way craft gallery. We were privileged to view amazing pieces of outstanding quality . Not being aimed at foreign visitors there was no air-con and so when we came out we were positively wilting and badly in need of a drink, so….off to the ever present noodle stall next door. The quality of this one was endorsed by the large number of locals sitting down to rackety out door tables and so we marched up to a slightly bemused looking girl and asked for two Singhas. Everyone was very friendly and made room for us. They even looked at our guide book and pointed out places that were good to visit- Presumably - Though it could have been places to avoid at all costs.

Suddenly a deafening hooter sounded, everyone stood up, smiled, bowed, and left into the building next door. Oh, dear. "Work's canteen" I guess. Again the Thais show amazing tolerance of a generation older than themselves. Especially mad, old Farangs!!

Next it's off to do what we really came up north for. See the elephants. The Conservation Centre shows the animals doing a little of the work that they'd originally been trained for in, the thankfully now defunct (at least officially), logging industry. Much "Oohing and Aahing" as the little ones tried to copy their elders in lifting, pushing and rolling the logs. The dexterity and intelligence of these giants was really awesome to see.

Now came the chance to ride out into the rainforest / jungle - But how to get on? "Our" Mahout, who we'd been told would have been with this one elephant since it was about three, shinned up the front end and settled comfortably astride her neck. Not a feat I could ever imagine myself, or Husband, doing so it was with great relief that we saw him, as if by magic, steer her sideways up to a sort of huge mounting block. We clambered up here and then sort of lowered ourselves down into what I can only describe as a giant picnic basket, with far more dignity than I had anticipated. Now I ride daily my thoroughbred and Irish draught horse of not inconsiderable size but cannot find the words to describe just how insignificant one feels up on top of such a huge animal. Huge not only in size but also in presence and majesty. Very humbling.

Off we set, with two more behind, almost silently moving beneath the thick canopy which all but shut out the sun. We seemed to be going so slowly until you looked down (Oh boy! Way, way down) and realized that each huge stride was covering a great deal of land. Our feet rested on her neck and although I knew her skin was an inch thick this still felt kind of disrespectful so I took off my trainers. Our Mahout, so serious most of the time, grinned at me. Pleased at my consideration? Mad old Farang? Who knows. After a while he swung down and hung almost upside down to retrieve a smoke from one of the folds in her ear and then we just progressed amiably without talk, lost in our own thoughts amongst the wonderful sights and sounds of the forest, Completely at peace. Magical. Never to be forgotten.

When the elephants became redundant from their traditional work of logging and transport, many fell into unscrupulous hands, being cruelly treated and abused. They do so need, and deserve the eco-tourism that such conservation centers provide.

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