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…
If I’m honest, personally I’d have to say ‘yes’ to the boat ride. Despite all the difficulties, It was a great adventure. It gave me the chance to see life along the Mekong river- a chance you simply don’t get if you fly or drive across Laos. It was also a chance to ‘switch off’ from daily life because all I could do was read, nap, look at scenery, take photos on the boat and talk to other people. many people, like myself, engrossed in a good book…
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.
That’s it. I’ve decided. A one-way ticket to Bangkok, courtesy of Emirates Airlines. From there, who knows? I’ll have a backpack, a day pack and my MacBook for writing; I’ll carry some cash and a credit card. I need nothing but the bare essentials - after all, anything I forget I can buy along the way. I am spiritually depleted but this, I am sure, is not permanent. And just like that, I understand I’m off on another one of my solo travels.
Krakauer is a fine storyteller and doesn’t shrink from difficult questions in this book - including asking whether anyone who puts themselves in such danger to stand “on the roof of the world” is actually rational. Because, let’s face it, climbing Everest isn’t for your average thrill-seeker - you’ll need $65,000 minimum and, quite possibly, a death wish...
That fateful morning, his mother woke to chaos, and, along with her partner, locked herself in the safe room in the kibbutz at which they live. There she spent hours on end, listening to Arabic commands, rapid gunfire and screams of horror from her neighbours. After the IDF finally released her, she begged them to take her to the home of her daughter and granddaughter. But they were not there…
Then it’s onto Burton-on-the-Water, which is arguably the most picturesque of all the villages in the Cotswolds. This, no doubt, accounts for the hordes of Japanese tourists we encounter.In huge groups, they descend from their coaches and head straight down to the River Windrush, which flows through the village. This must be why it’s called Venice of the Cotswolds…
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!
Priamo and Elide Pellicci hailed from Tuscany - a beautiful region named Garfagnana, near Sienna, and - like so many immigrants at the end of the 19th century - set sail for Britain, in search of a better life. Priamo actually began working in the cafe in 1900 whilst his wife Elide brought up seven children (without help!). After his death, she took over the place and ran it - who said women are the weaker sex? - and in turn it’s been passed down…a real family business.
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.,,
