Propped up on my pillow, I watched the sunrise from the train window. It was after 5am and I’d given up trying to get to sleep. Too many thoughts whirled around my brain, as if the air-con was fanning my anxiety instead of my face. Thoughts about the future, thoughts about the past and deep concerns about the present. The orange beam on the horizon faded to pink and then blue. Morning had come. And with morning finally came my slumber.
I awoke on and off until 11am when the sun was streaming through the carriage window, jungle whooshing by outside.
At noon we reached Chiang Mai. Caesar, Caligula and Tiberius all reiterated how happy they were to be away from Bangkok and what a shithole it had been. But I didn’t quite agree. We were soon walking the streets of Chiang Mai, and while it was certainly pleasant and chilled-out, it was missing the spark of chaos that fuelled my excitement in Bangkok. This was probably for the best however, considering how far south my mood was about to plummet.
We checked into the Loyy Hostel and went in search of breakfast… or brunch or lunch, or whatever it was at that point. It was hard to find a decent place and even harder to agree on one. A couple arguments later, we found the tiniest of restaurants down an alley-way where food was being cooked on multiple little barbeques. I ordered pork and egg with toast and a latte. The meat was sweet and good, but the meal was far smaller than I’d imagined and the latte was… well… not a latte. My stomach screamed out for food and I felt my mood beginning to smoulder.
I staggered down the street feeling nothing but irritation – not even the sun on my skin. I was at my wits end, walking dead through the streets of Chiang Mai. The others saw a bunch of e-scooters and began to crowd round them excitedly. I took off up the street telling them I’d catch them later. I needed more food and I needed to sleep for about a hundred years.
An almond brownie in a cool and airy café kept me on life support. I lumbered back to the hostel where I attempted to sleep. But in the heat of the day no sleep came, and hours later, I hit the streets of Chiang Mai once again in search of dinner. Caesar and Tiberius joined me. Caligula had been fortunate enough to pass out.
Finally, I got my first proper bit of street food. Not sure if scorpions count. “Wide noodles” as they were called, deliciously doughy and in a sweet peanut(ish) sauce. It would have been better if there was, perhaps…10 times as much, but for 50 baht I figured it was pretty good.
Caesar was very much enjoying Chiang Mai. He’d finally managed to get a meal that didn’t have meat in it, and pronounced that his vegetable pad Thai was ‘One of the best meals I’ve ever had in my entire life.’
We returned to the hostel where sleep finally took me. Not however, before we had the displeasure of watching a drunken old Brit steal a bowl of soup from the owners of the food stall. The oaf was absolutely off his face.
