I’ve not got a lot to say about Pai I’m afraid. This remote town northwest of Chiang Mai city had been recommended to us by a few people and so without any ideas of our own, and with time to kill waiting for our visas, we took a short trip up the winding mountain roads to the middle of nowhere.
In total I think we spent less than 48 hours in Pai. Why? Simple really. Andy hated it. Now, that’s not bitterness you detect from me. I don’t hold it against him, because there really isn’t a lot to do in Pai. But, Andy’s hatred of Pai is almost unnatural.
I’m still trying to fathom when this hatred was spawned, so you may wanna ask Andy about it, but I think it occurred during our first night’s drinking. I think I was on the phone outside Bee Bop bar, whilst Andy was inside enjoying a White Russian with a few of the locals. When I return to the festivities, I find that a couple of French dudes are making complete arses of themselves and making life miserable for all around. This, I suspect, is the genesis of Andy’s hatred. Trust Johnnie Frog to cause problems for us all…
The next day we awoke with a mission to turn the Pai experience around. We leaped (stumbled) onto our bikes and headed out of the town. There are roughly three things to see in Pai; the hot springs, the canyon, and a coupl’a waterfalls. Map in hand, we ramped it through the streets and out into the wilderness. The views where simply awesome. They were so good in fact that we completely missed all of the local attractions and made it half way back to Chiang Mai city without even breaking a sweat. By far, the bike ride was my favourite experience in Pai. I was getting the hang of the bike, and despite the measly 100cc engine, it felt pretty good to lean around the sweeping mountain roads.
After riding for hours we doubled back, bound for the
Nice crevice!
But, having driven a considerable distance in the wrong direction, time was slipping away, along with our motivation. Sacking off the waterfalls, we implemented Plan B instead. Head back to town, grab a curry and watch a movie in the local DVD shops. Die Hard 2; awesome.
So that’s about it for Pai. I think Pai is quite a nice place despite the lack of, well, everything. Comprising only two, short market streets and many a bamboo hut along the Pai riverside, the town is incredibly sleepy. Well, I’m not here to found the new Las Vegas, so sleepy is okay with me. All I need is a bar and some people to chat with, and I’m happy as Santa Claus. But maybe this is where Pai’s problem arises. No, not Santa Claus, but the bars and the people. There are only a few bars, and only a few people. And those people travelled to Pai primarily for the cheap and readily accessible drugs from nearby Burma. Many of them have spent far to much time up-north replacing the thin air with thick opium smoke. If that’s not your bag, then you feel like your outside looking in, which is not what I’m here for. I want to get to know places really well and make them like a second home. I don’t wanna be just another tourist taking pics and moaning about the uncomfortable bus journeys and lack of air-con in my bamboo hut.
Oh yeah, and it’s also worth mentioning that I had my first scooter crash in Pai. I was drunk (I know, I know) and slid off the road into a small wall. I remember doing a gambol, of sorts, and coming to my feet with surprising agility. I hauled the bike back on to the road wondering, calmly, “Oh crap, oh crap. I hope it’s not wrecked.” But it wasn’t damaged at all, and more amazingly, neither was I. Two very small scratches on my right index finger. A miracle. That alone makes me think that Pai isn’t such a bad place to be.
