On you wander and then suddenly, the first glimpse of water.  Wow!  Pools that are crystal, clear, a fabulous shade of turquoise, surrounded by lush greenery and plenty of shade.  Geologists call this type of falls  ‘travertine’ - a type of limestone formed when mineral-rich rivers, lakes and spring water evaporate).  The water cascades down, from one to the next and it’s just staggeringly beautiful.

So much so that words don’t do it justice. 

What am I doing? Exploring the Wats, strolling the streets and spying local school kids at play in their break, eating street food at the Night Market, exploring the backstreets close to the Mekong River…taking long afternoon naps in my guesthouse…reading up on the history of this little-known part of South East Asia….falling into conversation with locals and appreciating just how gracious, respectful and charming they are…wandering the night market and gazing at the brightly-colored lanterns…

Day Two was entirely different.  It left me humbled and grateful.  Humbled at the local Laotians who sat on the floor of the boat for hours, not once complaining.  And grateful for what I have - the time and money to travel the world, a profession that I don’t just make money from but I actually enjoy and the sense of freedom - to be a solo woman, on the road, with no-one to hold me back and a credit card and stash of US dollars for emergencies…

Unlike yesterday, this day passes agonisingly slowly.  My back aches and the seat is uncomfortable.  It’s blisteringly hot outside and the humidity must be over 70%...there’s a little breeze but not enough.  All of the elan of yesterday is gone, especially because we’re stopping constantly to let locals jump on and off.  I offer the seat next to me - in the next few hours - to an old man, a young woman with a baby,  and then a teenager who proceeds to call his friend over.  The two of them plonk themselves down inone space and are soon spilling over into mine…

There are two kinds of seats on our boat - ‘luxurious’ padded and ‘hot polo’ wooden bench. I’ve lucked out and got one in the first category. They’ve been ripped out of big vans and they’re not just comfy but roomy- I can even stretch my legs out! All of our bags are placed in the hold and I also see locals loading their belongings onto the roof. At the front of the boat I spy a portly Buddhist monk in his 50’s, with three children, all in their saffron robes, next to him…

I arrive with moments to spare at the Chang Rai bus station and as I walk in I see the local bus pulling out. I stick out my hand and, amazingly, it stops, and the conductress pulls me on, along with my heavy backpack. It’s full of locals, and there’s only one other tourist - a guy called Liad who, as fate would have it, is also from Israel and lives not 4 km from me! We drive along a pretty well-paved road, passing paddy fields and palm trees, staring at small Thai farms and watch locals get on and off at villages along with livestock and huge bowls of noodles…

I feel no need to engage in tourist activities, such as visiting an (ethical?) Elephant Sanctuary or partake in a cookery class.  I check myself into a great little place which is family-run and has comfy bedding and air-con (all for the princely sum of $15 per night) and spend my time walking in the backstreets, eating Pad Thai day after day from a tiny spot with a few tables where you point to the picture on the menu and an old woman proceeds to make it in front of you…

It’s a treasure trove, a veritable treasure trove of furniture, lighting, prints, sculptures, chinaware, household goods, toys, jewellery…and it’s air conditioned. I am entranced, wandering from booth to booth, staring at statues of Buddhas, china cups, a brass gramophone and a lethal-looking dagger…

I move to a far more residential part of the city, where there are almost no tourist spaces, and end up in a co-working space called Pillow and Bread, which really is a good place to get used to Thailand.  I wander the streets aimlessly, stopping in the grocery stores to stare at local products.  I eat at night markets, along with all the locals - I point to pictures of dishes that look like (or are marked vegetarian) and seem to end up eating well.  …

I don’t have any Baht and rather than stand and queue to make an exchange, I try my luck with the conductor.  I offer her two dollar bills (which is more than 60 baht) and she gladly accepts and tucks them into her little purse.  The bus fills up and off we go.  Almost one hour and 45 minutes later (the traffic is horrendous, not just because it’s Bangkok but also because it’s the morning rush hour) I’m deposited - as Moovit says - right where I should be.

And to see country living at its finest, I’ve decided to head to Chipping Norton. Home to some rather well-known individuals (including David & Sam Cameron, Matthew Freud and Jeremy Clarkson) I figure I’ve got to check it out and since it’s just 10 kms away (although local transport is scarce, with just a few buses a day) off I head…

As I mosey along the main drag, I see cottages - the kind of cottages that wouldn't look out of place on chocolate box tins - and almost all of them are built from stone quarried from the area.  It’s honey-coloured (dating back to the Jurassic area) and when the sun falls on it, the hue is simply glorious!  

I’m house sitting for a charming couple who are leaving me in charge of their three cats and four chickens! I’ll be staying in a 17th century cottage with timber beams, old floors, tiny doors and lots of character. Who could pass up an opportunity like this?

Who didn’t love Bet Lynch, the busty blonde barmaid, whose presence in the Rovers Return pub who first made an appearance in the much-loved (and much-mocked) British soap opera ‘Coronation Street. Graduating from barmaid to landlady, she was a real character, dressed in her trademark leopard print and sporting a beehive hairstyle.Walking around the pub with a cigarette perpetually hanging from her mouth, she was probably one of tv’s most well-known stars in that period.,,

I’m angry.  Where will it end?  Will women soon find themselves afraid to dress as they choose, for fear of being castigated on the streets?  Will more and more public spaces end up being given over to men, marginalising us even further?  Will toleraance and liberalism have no more place in my country?