I left Wat Pa Tam Wua temple, but it didn’t leave me.
I headed to Mae Hongson, the city from where I arrived here, I wrote about it in the post “10 Days Barefoot 1: On the Way to the Forest Temple”.
For sailors only!
Before leaving, I started talking to a guy from Angelo. From him I learned that the term Chicano, which is also used here and there in Hungarian slang, means Mexican-American people.
We had a really good conversation with this Chicano and an older German man for half an hour on the flatbed of the pickup truck we were traveling in. The conversation was good until my stomach realized that I was sitting in the back of a car, turned 90 degrees from the direction of travel. This ice, with a double whiskey, made my stomach horribly upset. The winding and rising and falling road didn’t help either.
So I spent the last 40 minutes on the road trying to breathe deeply and concentrate on not throwing up my last two vegetarian meals from the temple.
So, the only thing I really noticed from the trip was that Mae Hongson is terribly far from the temple.
Interestingly, when I first arrived in the city, I had the idea of kissing the ground. It was the same now.
I always knew I would be a bad sailor. It turns out I am a land rat.
I went into the store near the bus terminal to calm my stomach with a soda.
I think the store was having a buttered popcorn festival. My already restless stomach turned two when I entered the store and smelled the melted butter.
Well, everything was better in the church! LOL.
On the way to my accommodation
I spent half an hour sitting on the steps next to the shop, trying to figure out how to get to my little room.
When everything was ready, I looked at how to get to my little room. The Google Maps link in the Airbnb app showed the location nicely.
Of course, the address couldn’t be entered into the Grab app again, because when I typed it in, it gave me 10 options in Thai, without translation, to choose from.
There was no other choice, I had to look for a tuk-tuk taxi again.
Three taxi drivers looked at my phone, their phone, the Airbnb pictures, my phone, the pictures, their phones for 15 minutes. After a quarter of an hour of consultation, the decision was made as to where the hell they should take me and we set off.
After a few minutes, I recognized the tuk-tuk: I also went to the temple with it. My trip around the temple became a beautiful frame structure.
We soon left the not-so-big city behind us and arrived in a rural area. I wasn’t worried even when we left it and were quite close to the shores of the operent sea.
Then my romantic journey came to a turning point: we had to turn off the main road onto something that could only be called a dirt road with great kindness. I could see from the taxi driver that he didn’t really want to turn there.
According to Google Maps, we were 900 meters from the accommodation, which is less than the distance of the morning walking meditation at the church, so I let the good man go. According to my Garmin, I had walked 1,300 km in the past 365 days, so these 900 meters didn’t scare me.
As I stepped onto the road, I was even more scared by the two dogs who immediately attacked me. I thought that these animals had a fetish for “no stepping on the grass” and would attack immediately as a unit that could be deployed.
They must have been annoyed by my yelling at them for some reason, so they finally left me alone. I was able to continue my journey to the cabbage field 20 meters away. The cabbages were beautiful, but I couldn’t see the rest of the way.
On the other hand, a Thai man and a woman did. Although I had the feeling that they didn’t understand a word of English, I imagined myself as the youngest prince again and – my life, my death – I gave it a try. They didn’t speak English.
I showed them in writing what was wrong with me. I felt that reading was also a problem for them. In the end, they sent me back where I came from, but unfortunately I already knew that it wasn’t the right direction.
Although he struggled to get over it, I didn’t give in to despair. 900 meters. I’ll find it. I noticed another exit 50 meters from the previous one. This is it!
Turning off the main road onto this small road, a motorcyclist came towards me. I took that as a good sign. There must be something coming from there.
The first thing I found after walking twenty meters was very fine dust up to my ankles on the road. Not sand. Not dirt. It was like flour. I gave up on the idea of clean shoes after one step.
But the road always knows what I need, so 50 meters later I was standing on the bank of a small river. The map clearly showed that I didn’t have to think. I just had to cross the water. I thought for a few moments about which solution to choose. Should I take off my shoes and walk barefoot through the ankle-deep water, stumbling over the stones, or wash the dirt off my shoes.
Another dog helped me decide the question, who appeared on the other side, barking patiently but terribly. He had the sense not to cross the river, but to wait for me to cross. I figured that if I had to fight a life-or-death battle with him, my chances would be better in the water, so I headed for the river.
Fortunately, with the power of my voice, I managed to convince this dog that it would be better if he got out of my way and didn’t follow me.
So I finally started my little walk in the jungle without any disturbance. It filled me with hope that there were only 800 meters left. What was especially good was how many adventures happened to me in those 100 meters.
700 meters. 400 meters. 100 meters.
At that moment, I was standing at the bottom of a large hill on the forest path. Google casually told me to turn right and I was there. But there was no sign of a path on the hill. I began to think that this map detail was referring to some long-forgotten 18th-century road.
There was no way I was going to climb this hill. With my backpack on my back, my laptop bag on my chest, and everything else.
So I continued on my way along the forest path. My hiking instincts told me that the path leading up would be on the other side of the hill. It was slowly becoming my default state to sweat like a horse. It was about 40 degrees and the ventilation system under the two backpacks was not working. I began to fantasize about the shower that I would soon be able to enjoy.
I never reached the other side of the hill. Even after a kilometer, the map didn’t encourage me anymore. That’s when I saw the small road into the real jungle. It was pure romance, the way the lianas turned the road into a small tunnel. I set off. I entered the real jungle.
But my happiness was not cloudless. In the ankle-high undergrowth, I was prepared with every step to see how happily a snake I accidentally stepped on would bite my short-trousered leg with a smile. I also wondered between steps whether a scorpion could jump to reach my ankle.
I love forests. But I didn’t take this to heart so much now. When I could only step over a fallen tree trunk by leaning on it with half my body, – I don’t know why – I remembered those palm-sized spiders that I saw and photographed in the temple area. One of the guys said that their kind was not venomous.
I wasn’t either, even when I reached the end of this small tunnel after 100 meters. On the way back, I thought about my incomplete knowledge of reptiles and arthropods, and finally happily stepped back onto the forest path.
During my hikes, I had many experiences where I thought, “Let’s go back, maybe the path is there,” when we knew it wasn’t there, or “Let’s look at the left turn,” that would be good, but we knew it wouldn’t be good.
So I went back to the 18th-century imagined path, maybe there was a tiny path leading up, but of course there was nothing.
So 100 meters from the goal, my further jungle hike became pointless. I started back, with the feeling that turned into a thought that I had no idea what was going to happen next.
I wrote to my host. “Hi! I’m here in the jungle. According to the map, I’m 100 meters away from you, but I only see trees.”
That’s when I saw a road to the left. I thought, I’ve never been on this road before, I’ll try to go around the hill from the other side. Hope dies last.
That’s how I got to the edge of a corn plantation. I was walking peacefully past the corn stalks that were taller than me, when I heard barking again, and very close at hand. This time it was exciting and special because I couldn’t see the source of the sound. It seemed like a depressing idea that a dog would suddenly pounce on me from among the corn and bite me.
I broke a stick for myself to prepare for some kind of communication balance.
Fortunately, I quickly left the corn field and continued my journey past a tomato plantation. Luckily, because the dog couldn’t hide in this anymore. Unless he was a retreating commando and was crawling on his stomach…
A glimmer of hope appeared on the next cabbage patch. No, I didn’t see the house. But four women who had just finished hoeing and were heading off… Well, somewhere. I quickly charged at them, hoping that they wouldn’t take the appearance of the two white men with backpacks and sticks as an attack and wouldn’t attack me with their hoes.
Of course, they didn’t speak English, not at all, so after asking a few questions I realized that I could have asked about the corn stalks with the same force.
Since they didn’t help, I didn’t bother communicating any further. For some reason, I told them in Hungarian that I was going with you and followed them. My appearance cheered them up, because they laughed a lot. For some reason, I felt like I was on to something.
Then my host’s answer arrived, asking where I was. I have to write down what I thought when I read this question. “Well, where in the hell am I, here I am in a cabbage patch in the middle of the jungle and unfortunately there is no street name written.”
Of course, that’s not what I sent him. I remembered to send him a few photos so he could see where I was.
In the first photo I sent, I showed him the river I had already crossed once. The water was already knee-deep here. I crossed and followed the women with the hoe. There were already houses here. And the corner where we turned back in the taxi before he got off.
There was a nice water tower here, there was a big sign, so I sent the pictures of these to my host. I may or may not be a travel blogger. I thought I would show him the area.
I arrived in a small village. I followed the women with two backpacks, a stick, and in muddy shoes. They told everyone 100 meters ahead of me that a crazy white man was coming from the jungle, so I marched along the only street in the village, accompanied by many smiling faces.
Then my host asked me if I knew where the LPG was? I tried to confidently hide my ignorance, but I had to be honest with him, so I wrote that I didn’t know anything here.
Soon I reached a main road. In both directions there were names of towns I had never heard of before. At this point I was already thinking about somehow getting back to the city and renting a hotel room.
Then I saw a small bench 20 meters from a food court. I thought I would rest there. And decide what the hell I was going to do next.
Three cute Thai guys passed me and laughed at me, but they also said hello. I enjoyed my sudden popularity and said hello to them with a laugh. I thought I would ask if the position of village idiot was available, because my antonym had made everyone so happy that I was sure I would have a successful career in this role in this small village behind God’s back.
I love Asia. Everyone is so helpful. Seriously, I love it. The three little guys turned back on their bikes and one of them asked the award-winning question: where are you going?
I told him I was sure I couldn’t tell you, but I’ll show you the pictures of the rooms in the house. Maybe you’ve been there and recognized it. LOL. Of course they didn’t know, but they pointed to the cooking lady so that he would know.
He damn well didn’t know. The next day it turned out that it was my host’s girlfriend, but he didn’t recognize her friend on Airbnb by either the house number or her name.
I started thinking about eating at his place when Deus ex Machina appeared in the form of a biker.
My host recognized one of the photos and came to pick me up.
He immediately hugged me and we could both see that we were relieved that I was there.
I jumped on his back and took him to his house, which was 4(!) kilometers away.
During the trip, I told him that I had ended up in the jungle by following the map on Airbnb.
He said, “Well, yes! Maybe the map should be corrected.”
I agreed. Maybe it should be.
And so I arrived in my little room.
Finally home
After the adventurous arrival, all that awaited me was the kindness of Asian life. Enough of the fun and laughter.
My host immediately asked me if I was hungry after arriving, because he would make me something. It must have been the result of all the adventures, but I wasn’t hungry.
My room was impeccable. A large bed, and a bathroom. There were two interesting things. The mattress on the bed – this is not the first time I’ve seen this – had not been removed from the foil, so the bed creaked a little when I lay down on it. The other was the bathroom. There was no hand-washing tap here. There was a toilet, a shower head and a mirror. And, the indispensable accessory of bathrooms, the small barrel of water. With this, you can wash your hands and flush the toilet.
On my first day, I immediately went to the nearby 7-11 to buy my food for the next few days. The nearest shop was 2.5 km away, so I could see the village a bit, but there wasn’t really much to see, so I could enjoy nature more.
I talked to my parents for a long time in front of the shop, and then I finally had dinner there, sitting on a small bench in front of the building.
So I had time on the way home to look at the beauties of starry Asia.
I spent the next day reading letters and doing my homework. Well, I read and meditated.
In the morning, I asked my landlord to take me back to the place where I had picked up yesterday, because I was hoping that I might find my lost earphones there. Of course, they weren’t there, but it turned out that the woman at the bar was his girlfriend. I was surprised that the barkeeper couldn’t help me. Maybe my English wasn’t good enough for Thai ears?
I really wanted to go back to the forest to hike a bit, but I still couldn’t convince myself that I wasn’t afraid of snakes.
In the evening, the host came to me and asked if I was hungry. I wasn’t, but he asked me to come down to him when I finished the conversation I was having.
So we ended up having dinner together. He quickly made me a Khao Phat Kai (Thai fried rice with chicken) and I had a glass of beer with them. With them, because the lady’s girlfriend was there too.
I’m moving on!
I only wanted to spend two nights in this place. So I set off on Saturday. I wanted to walk to the bus terminal, but since Ana had offered to take me to the bus many times, I was forced to skip this 8 km walk. She said 10 minutes by motorbike. It turned out to be 20, but do you count?
It was good that she was there with me at the station, because of course, by the time I understood what I wanted at the ticket office again, it soon turned out that there were no tickets left today. Again. I can’t believe it. Luckily, they were able to tell the lady that the private minibuses were leaving, so I immediately got a seat in the back of a minibus that was leaving in 10 minutes.
I was shivering from the journey!
The bus left with two monks and me on it, so I was able to sit in the very back of the car facing forward. I also regained hope that this would be an easy trip, since the three of us could fit in just fine.
I couldn’t be happy for long. By the time we left the city, eight of us were already crammed into the back between the many bags and the large box placed on the floor of the car. Then they put one of the elderly ladies in the front, so there was still room in the back for, say, a cat.
On the way back, we arrived at the Wat Pa Tam Wua temple. But I’d been here a long time ago. We waved to some familiar faces on the way in. Inside, it was so nice to see how happy the two receptionists were to see us again. They were so sweet, they said goodbye with a “God be with you again!” when we left.
The black soup came here, of course, because three more people got on here. This seemed impossible, but in the end it was possible to arrange for nine of us to sit in the eight-person section.
We stopped at many places to drop off and pick up smaller bags. Everything is in one place with these kinds of cars. Shortly after the temple we stopped on the side of the road, where a greengrocer wanted to load a cubic meter of all kinds of vegetables onto the car. There were bags everywhere, but they finally accommodated our request. It’s incredible that these cars can hold twice as many people and things as I could imagine.
The trip itself was good, because after the temple we started talking to the guys. The trip was 100 km and took three hours.
But finally I arrived in the town of Pai.
Alive.
Google Maps survived.
So did the jungle.
So did the dogs.
And I was a little less confident that I always knew which way to go.
Buy me a coffee?
If you enjoyed this story, you can buy me a coffee. You don’t have to – but it means a lot and I always turn it into a new adventure.
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