Lizard soup, why monks can never wrong and other tales from Thailand...

After sating my fill of airports and trying to find comfy places to sleep within them it was a relief to finally get to Bangkok, not only because as I emerged from the airport tired and smelling most unfresh I was greeted by no less than three members of staff not wishing to tout me or rip me off but enable me to get to my destination the most efficient and cheapest way, but because I could at last lie down on something that resembled a bed. Having trusted Hiren to booking a room I found that he had hooked up with an Israeli dude in my absence and that the three of us were sharing a room; Hiren and I back to the doublebed routine with him as usual having the side with the easiest access to the toilet to alleviate his nightly bowel movements and lessen the disruption of my sleep by not having to clamber over me, leaving me to lie against the wall. Admittedly it was only noon but there was little chance of me making any kind of sense without a powernap so I settled down to snooze. I was about 10 minutes in to a delicious sleep when it sounded like someone on the other side of the wall I was propped up against was about to bulldoze right through it. In spite of the hammering and drilling the preference to lie there with a pillow over my head and pretend it wasn't happening was infinitely more seductive than having to get up from my horizontal position and so I managed to doze through it...until part of the wall caved in on my leg! The manager was brought up and told us that they were doing some work next door but it would only be for the afternoon so with much reluctance I resigned myself to extending the 36 hours of being awake by another couple of hours.

Fortunately, in comparison to every other place we have been Bangkok is a slick, Westernised city that doesn't require too much hassle or difficulty to navigate as long as you can cope with the humidity and avoid the more crowded parts. I had almost forgotten that traffic control devices existed and was further delighted when our tuk-tuk driver actually stopped to observe red lights and give way signs. It wasn't all plain sailing however as on the way back from our afternoon excursion we had the usual haggling with drivers thinking we had agreed a price with them only two minutes into the journey to find that they had upped it and weren't going to back down resulting in us being turfed out wherever the argument occured and requiring several tuk-tuks to actually getting us back to our hotel.

We stayed in a small, grubby place just off the Khao San Road, perfect for enjoying the delights of touristville with all its bustling street markets, cheap happy hour bars and indomitable ping-pong pushers...I don't know whether it was the tiredness or perhaps a distaste for big cities after the delights of the smaller Indian towns and Nepalese provinces that we had been journeying through but it was the first place on our travels I had a great indifference to, and one which only grew throughout the stay, albeit only a couple of days.

It was also the first marked difference between Hiren and I who was overjoyed to have left the Himalayas and dirt behind him. He was in his element sitting in the cinema at the top of MBK (the huge 7 storey tall shopping centre in Bangkok) eating his McDonalds whilst I was aggravated by the ubiquity of Western chains and the sterilised plasticated environment. Similarly, while Hiren revelled in the cheap bars packed full of Brits-abroad style holiday-makers the last thing I wanted to be doing was drinking English beer in a bar full of, if I can put it politely, people exemplifying the worst traits of being foreigners. I think there is also some truth in the fact that having lived quite fully the "London-lifestyle" for the past 18 months and immersing myself in everything that involves the travelling part of me that had willed this trip did not want to slip back into that way while living on the opposite side of the world with all the new opportunities it afforded.

I was hugely relieved to catch the sleeper train out of Bangkok to head to Chiang Mai, especially as it also meant we finally escaped the building work next door to us which lasted the duration of our stay rather than the one afternoon promised.

By contrast, Chiang Mai (known as the cultural capital of Thailand), was a complete revelation. It is one of those ancient cities small enough to be able to walk around but large enough so that every time you go out you discover a new road, temple or market. It is a bizarre hybrid of the ancient red brick Tha Pae Gate, dating back to 1296, and an ugly square concrete-channeled canal that borders the main square. Off the main square though are hundreds of little streets which you can spend whole days getting lost down, especially amidst the plethora of second-hand bookshops, exploring the various old and new town parts of the city whether that be strolling amongst the daily bazaars held on different roads for different days or emerging onto the neon-lit streets packed with bars and cafes designed for the farang.

The first day was dedicated to temple-exploring; Chiang Mai has the same number of temples as Bangkok but condensed into a much smaller space meaning that every corner you turn you can espy a huge gold-topped pagoda peaking out of the road. All the temples are free to get into (again, unlike Bangkok where they charge extortionate amounts) and are packed with no end of helpful people. Still suffering the hangover from India and Nepal whereby someone approaching you is tantamount to them demanding money and usually ending in raised voices when that money is not forthwith produced it took me a while to realise that when a Thai person approached me they genuinely wanted to help. They could show you things that ordinarily you would miss or not understand because there was no translation and were full of enormously helpful tips on where to go for the best meals, cheapest presents etc and it was such a relief and pleasure to be able to sit down in a leafy garden while the orange-robed monks passed by and just chat to them about their city and country.

Our stay in Chiang Mai was made even more enjoyable by the fantastic Julie's Guesthouse. Tucked away from the main square down a quiet alleyway it a large building with dorms and private rooms situated in the middle of a fantastic garden terrace; in the front there is a very cheap cafe, chilled music flowing from the stereo, pool table, library of books and numerous seats and chairs for everyone to sit in and swap stories (this communal area was something virtually every other place we have stayed in lacked and it was nice to be able to have a space to chill out in that wasn't where we slept!) while the back garden had sun loungers and in addition there was a late-night rooftop terrace for those that didn't want to sleep!

The other brilliant thing about Julie's was that they also organised everything else for us so that you didn't have to go hiking the streets to find the best price or worry about being ripped off - all you had to do was hand over your money. For 1500 of their finest baht (25 pounds) I booked myself into a three day trek through the jungles of the hill-tribe villages. Hiren pulled out at the last moment, scarred still from his nose-vomiting experiences in Pokhara and opted to do the Thai cookery school and so we parted ways for a few days.

The trek is the best thing I have done so far on our travels. There were eight of us from various hostels around Chiang Mai who were lumped into the back of the van to get to know each other, stopping off only at a local market to pick up supplies for the trek, before driving out of the city and being dropped off in Shan village.

The first stage of our trek involved an elephant ride. After the hilarities in Chitwan I was delighted to be reunited with my long-nosed friends but this was like being upgraded to first class on BA when you've travelled Easyjet! Firstly, instead of hauling myself up the trunk and performing an ungainly 180 degrees to pincer myself around its neck we had a sophistocated stage to climb up that placed us level with the elephant's back. Furthermore, a double-seated chair was strapped to the elephant so that in a simple step we were firmly balanced on top of our elephant without any need for worrying about falling off. I shared an elephant with Ben, a massage therapist from Seattle who had come to Thailand to do some more massage courses, and sadly we got lumbered with the greediest of the pack who would walk about two paces before stopping to devour a bush. At one point the guide cut down a small tree that our elephant carried in its trunk and ate along the way but this provided only a few minutes distraction before it was back to its old tricks of curling its trunk over its head towards us expecting the bananas we had first bought for it but which it had already devoured and then being disappointed deciding to go off-piste down sheer cliffs in search of trees!

Finishing the elephant ride we had to lock ourselves into a rusty cage on a zip wire that sent us across the main river and onto the edge of the jungle where we began our trek. The walking was not as demanding as in Pokhara as neither the incline or distance was as great but where in Nepal there were well-trodden tourist paths our trek involved river traversing, using fallen logs to climb across the river and swinging across tree roots and hugging rock faces to cirumnavigate corners! As a group we got on brilliantly and there was plenty of friendly banter batting across the eight of us and two guides so that every time you reached a new challenge that you couldn't possibly attempt as soon as you saw the English girls or the older German couple begin it you knew there was no way you could lose face and so found yourself performing the most hilariously, awkward manoeuvers in order to prevent yourself falling down a sheer rock face or being washed back to where the elephants were playing!

The first day ended with us being caught in another storm that absolutely drenched us for the last half hour and saw most of us taking one step up the mudslide path before slipping the equivalent of several steps back down (usually until you hit someone else to stop you!) When we reached our overnight stay, a small village where the Lahu tribe live, we then had to build and light a fire in (!) our bamboo thatched hut in order to be able to peel off our sodden garments and variously hang them over in order to try and dry them before we could even think about building another one to cook food!

Once the storm had passed though the skies were cleared for the perfect evening. We were etched into the hillside looking across the valley that the river ran through. When it got darker the sky remained cloudless and it felt like if we lifted our hands into the sky we could pluck the stars out they were so bright and seemingly so close. We sat out on the deck with the villagers who had a guitar and variously murdered horrendous karaoke tunes from a collective chorus of Bohemian Rhapsody to trying to learn local Thai songs! It was incredible to be away from any form of distraction and to make your necessities and entertainment simply out of what the environment afforded you. We were also privileged by the fact that our two leaders, Mr Big and Tong, were comedic geniuses: whenever we asked how long something would take the answer always ended in 9 minutes (how much longer to the next village? 59 minutes! how long until the rice is ready? 9 minutes!), their knowledge of Western tunes provided the most singularly awful collection of songs known to civilisation, especially when they confused mobile phone ads for genuine music....and at one point they started catching the bugs circling around the candles, so as not to be bitten we wrongly presumed, but to fry and crisp and offer round as snacks!

The second day we stopped off at an incredible waterfall which we attempted to stand up under, a challenge made difficult not only by the fact you felt the sky was crashing down on your head a la chicken-licken but also by the imperative of holding onto your swimming costume lest it be powered off you by the water.

Our overnight stay was in a mock-bamboo hut for tourist stop-overs which was disappointing after the previous authenticity but made up for in terms of drama by an outbreak of spiders above the mosquito nets that sent the girls into a permanent frenzy and the announcement that we were eating lizard soup for dinner at which point Mr Big pulled out a freshly killed lizard (the blood was still trickling out of its mouth!) To their credit they kept the joke up for a good length of time before announcing that they wouldn't be subjecting us to that, by which point we were almost indignant about at least trying some after spending most of the pre-dinner time playing cards and mentally preparing ourselves for eating it (we were famished after trekking all day!) - for the record, it tastes like squid, though apparently the tail is crunchier!!

The final day required only a brief 40 minute walk back to the river where we abandoned our bags and white water rafted back down to our bus! I've never white-water rafted before so was slightly nervous but got paired in a boat with Amos, Devon and Christina and the competitive streak (not only about winning, but who could bump the other boats the most and who could soak the other boats the most!) took over. Having practised for all eventualities of falling out, hitting your head etc they overlooked one small incident of when sitting in the back how to prevent yourself being shunted forward when hitting a rock and sliding your foot under the seat below at an angle that rendered the big toe nail from your actual toe. A traditional bit of British grin-and-bear it mentality and the promise of a traveller's war-wound saw me through it!

The final part of the journey allowed the raft guides to take over as we switched to bamboo rafts and they punted us down the river, ending the trek in style. Then it was back to Julie's garden to lie on the sun lounger and dry off before meeting up for reunion drinks in the evening in one of the awful neon bars along the canal!

The trek required a couple of days' recovery, principally exploring the huge night bazaar which alone could take several days just to negotiate yourself through the hilarious haggling methods of the stall-owners who begin by saying "I charge you x baht - how much you wanna pay?" and then pursue you down the alleys when you don't purchase it continually dropping their price until you reason you're being offered about the same as what they would charge the locals!

It was also the perfect opportunity to indulge myself in the second-hand bookshops, sitting in the sun-garden with an enormous pack of iced-gems from the biscuit store on the corner and a fruit shake. Although when I discovered the crazy old German owner of the Rose Restaurant at the end of the road was a tennis fanatic and addicted to the French Open I had to switch my allegiances. Due to the time difference the tennis starts at 4pm here, perfect timing for a cup of tea and the opener on Chatrier; then, perhaps a little wander to the food stalls to grab a ridiculously cheap pad thai and return for one of the later matches for a beer with the German guy. He would sink about five in the time it took me to nurse my one and there was always the danger that once he had too many he would fall asleep and his wife would steal the remote and switch over to some corny Thai soap, so my mission was to try and slow down the rate of drinks!

The last few days in Chiang Mai were frustrated by failing to get to go to the Buddhist overnight retreat at a temple out of town. Having booked it initially for the Tuesday evening I rang on Tuesday morning to ask where to get a tuk-tuk to and was greeted by a female voice with bad English who explained to me, and then the internet cafe operator when I didn't believe her, that there were problems today and the course had been put back to Wednesday. As a consequence I lost my room at Julie's and had to move down the street to Busy Bee (feeling like I was in playschool...) and called up the following day for the taxi to speak to a monk who asked why I hadn't come yesterday!! It's been the only instance of frustration I have experienced in Thailand so I can't grumble, but it's a real shame as I was looking forward to going and chatting to the monks to find out more about Buddhism. Having not known anything when I left England I have been reading quite a lot while travelling and am particularly intrigued by the challenge to reach enlightenment which has thrown up lots of questions. It seems from my understanding that to achieve enlightenment it is eventually necessary after many life cycles to abandon everything and seek nirvana in solitude. In principle I agree; it seems the only way to hold onto the precepts and strive to avoid all distraction and temptation - much like Christian monks or hermits do. But in reality, this appears more problematic. When you live in a society with multitudinal problems and can make some impact, however little, in alleviating some of those issues there seems to be a conflict between participating in and shirking social responsibility. When I stopped in at "monk chat" - a programme at one of the temples whereby foreigners are invited to sit down in the gardens and chat to the monks to find out more about their life - I was struck by the almost schoolboy naivety and innocence of these monks who have been living this life since children, and which in many ways has prevented them growing up (a good thing in that it stops them encountering the many corruptions that maturity provides) but also has left them somewhat bewildered by how the rest of society operates. When they walk in the mornings they are greeted by Buddhist women who give them food and water, yet for those people who aren't monks there is no such privilege and the monks seemed unable to conceive how people might be poor or starving unless through choice? Obviously there are many different strands and threads to this argument that I am ignorant of and require much more detailed knowledge but after observing, with great respect and admiration, the way these monks live, going away and thinking about the pragmatics of it threw up a range of questions that I wished I could speak to them about.

So to fill my day and questioning head I have instead booked myself onto a massage course! I have six hours with Jane, a most disappointing name for a Thai massage instructor it has to be said, tomorrow who has given me a whole book of mediative Buddhist thought to read before I begin - perhaps containing the answers to my earlier questions though currently infuriating me with examples of two people giving a loaf of bread, one unwittingly to a murderer and the second unwittingly to a monk, and the latter person being rewarded a 100 000 fold more than the first person for their donation!

After the massage course it's an overnight bus back to Bangkok to meet Liz and then flying out to Hanoi, a last minute change in plans after Hiren decided that he didn't want to get bitten again which he thought he would in Laos and has apparently nothing to do with the fact that when he got bitten in Chiang Mai he was sitting outside in the garden until 2.30 am without any repellant on...!

FAVOURITE PLACE: Julie's comes a surprise second to our bamboo hut in the Lahu tribal village in spite of the fact that every time someone turned over in the night the waves rolled through the floor forcing everyone else to roll over at the same time as well!

FAVOURITE FOOD: The roti stalls (pancakes with bananas cooked inside and chocolate sauce dribbled over...); the giant iced-gem-like biscuits they sell by the baht down the road; fruit plate in yoghurt at Julie's - fresh fruit AND yoghurt, what more could you want for brekkie!

WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS: Julie's! Showering in waterfalls, Mr Big and Tong, Thai people asking your name once and then remembering it forever more; the pet rabbits in Julie's!

WORST PLACE: Plaster-falling Rainbow hostel, Khao San

WORST FOOD: A dodgy street stall on Khao San Rd that left me wanting to puke during What Happens In Vegas, incidentally, nothing to do with the quality of the film....

WHAT I'M NOT GOING TO MISS: The miserable ping-pong girls promising you a good time; the number of fat, lardy western walruses sitting with ping-pong girls; the mosquito gas machine that comes once a week at Julie's to vaporise the building during which I slept through after a particularly heavy night until waking up to find my room filled with green smoke and everyone else having been evacuated!

MOST BIZARRE: Meeting Phil the dreadlocked Aussie with the newly studded chin telling me he is funding his trip around the world by signing up to medical experiments in each country he goes to....

FAVOURITE QUOTE: "You can just meet me in Hanoi or Siem Reap, whichever" (Hiren trying to plan a route that didn't include Laos)

BOOKS I'VE READ: Crime and Punishment, Dostoevsky (a re-read, but so much better second time round - in terms of the birth of interior character psychology the post-modernist movement in England were light years behind...); The Lifes and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, Bill Bryson (classic Bryson reliving his childhood in the 50s where everyone was happy and life was easy - where did it all go wrong I think is the point of the book, that and some hilarious childhood anecdotes that you have snorting out loud in Julie's and consequently becoming the recipient of many strange looks...!) Sorrow of War, Bao Ninh (BUY THIS BOOK! - a truly haunting account of the repercussions of the Vietnam war on two young lovers whose lives were ruined written in a brilliant shifting temporal narrative. The back of the book says the Wilfred Owen of the East and you can't disagree, won't forget this in a hurry); Nineteen Minutes, Jodi Piccoult (written by a woman for women, relatively interesting story about a high-school shooting but just a joy to be able to read without feeling guilty about slacking off on the middle English poetry!)