Pai and the Crash

Yes, I mainly went to see if they had pie in Pai and no they don’t.  I’m not disappointed though - I love Pai (oh yes I do). Upon arrival we’re immediately greeted by Alex (captain extrovert) and Kris (canadian mounty) from the trek.  An hour later and up turns Johnny from the trek and what’s this? He’s got a lady in tow. We all thought Johnny was pitched in the other camp?! Ah..turns out D’s a lady for the ladies.  Well, she should enjoy Pai.  We’re still undecided about Johnny.

So we set up for a cheap 5 days in bamboo huts with beers from 7/11 and guitar sessions galore for either the entertainment or annoyance of our neighbours across the river.  Paul prints of a load of music, mainly with high pitch vocals just to make it that much more amusing.  We get through some sing along classics and attempt to break the volume record for Bon Jovi’s Dead or Alive.

Then comes the decision to rent out scooters.  I’m well up for this, after all, I’ve been dodging buffalo in the himalaya.  All goes well and we make it to one of the big waterfalls where I take possibly the most homo-erotic photo since the calenders of the early 90’s started featuring firemen and hoses.  Ladies and gentlemen, Paul is Mr. February.

After our Parisian quota is filled we head up into the hills, the tarmac now replaced by dirt and rocks.  Now going up the road was fine - just put a bit of welly on the gas.  Coming down is a little different - gravity can be a bitch!  Having failed to notice my front tyre’s resemblance to Duncan Goodhue’s shiny scalp I find myself staring up at the sky from a ditch with my less than trusty steed a couple of metres behind me.  I’ve successfully performed a full somersault over the handlebars finished off with an impressive head bounce. Textbook.  It’s worth noting that the ridiculously oversized helmet I’d been forced to wear due to my ridiculously oversized melon that had amused all so much, did in fact save me from serious damage.  So remember kids; be safe (and don’t do crack.  Unrelated but important.  Especially don’t do crack on a moped etc etc).

So with the injury for Thailand taken care of we proceed onwards to a civalised night out in Pai.  We find Nigel playing songs of womanly woe in a roadside bar and soon after lose Paul.  Johnny and I enlist the the assistance of a seemingly sane man with a moped to begin the search and that’s where the fun begins.  Paul spotted us zooming off as he exited the 7/11 but we were oblivious so a bar to bar goosechase was on.  Obviously we had to have a drink in each of the bars we searched and if I’m honest we forgot about the search pretty quickly.  We were soon to be found surfing tables to a heavy metal band with an audience of 4.  So far, so typical evening.  Then our driver decides to freak Johnny out by screaming that we should all die together and proclaiming that he’s aiming for a high speed crash to do the job.  Johnny shits his pants which seems reasonable.  I decide he’s bluffing and cover his eyes.  We stay upright and alive - see, bluffing.

Subsequent day are spent nipping about on mopeds, consuming calorific condensed milk iced teas (sooooooo good!), bathing in hot springs, skinny dipping in freezing waterfalls (should have done that in the hot spring really) and strenuously lazing about.  Nights are spent with beers in hand stumbling across pig farms on route to the Retox bar.  I also fall deeply in lust with a french tattoo artist only to have my attempts to serenade her rudely interrupted by an American who just loves Guns’n’Roses (do I look like I care?) and a thai boy who is fascinated by the guitar.  I think he was a boy, thai men are pretty small but you don’t like to ask as they’re also often able to break every bone in your body.  Regardless, he shoots...he misses.