‘Fuck me that filled a hole,’ said some British guy sitting behind me in the Mexican café. I could see what he meant. My bacon, scrambled egg and black bean burrito was spicier than I anticipated, but very delicious. The fact that Ricky Martin was blaring out of the overhead speakers was a bonus.
Done with breakfast, I hurried through the sun-stroked streets of Pai. We were supposed to be getting bikes to the hot springs outside of town. But Caligula was far off getting his phone repaired – and, we later discovered, withdrawing swathes of cash only to lose it all within minutes. Not once did he do this, but twice. Twice in a row.
We quickly met up with Caligula before he could lose his head as well as his cash. We were scant on time, and struggling to withstand the ever-increasing ire of the sun. We downgraded our plans and got a taxi to the hot springs. As we journeyed there however, I began to wonder why exactly we were going to the HOT springs when the air around us was already so hot it was threatening to melt us on the spot.
The idea of going to the hot springs was indeed questionable. ‘We’re so criminally underprepared for everything’ Caligula lamented as we arrived at the hot springs and three of us realised that we hadn’t brought any swimwear. We’d already paid the ridiculous entrance fee so had no choice but to bathe in our shorts and underwear, and try our best not to feel like we were being boiled alive. Of course, we had no towels with us, and as soon as we got out to dry the sun slipped behind the trees and we were all stood dripping in the shade.
As the cool evening descended, I began to feel much better. I cannot say the same for the Romans however. They were wasting away with rotten hangovers and made the foolish decision of opting for the nearest restaurant for which to sup. A dreaded Indian.
Of course Indian food is lovely, but there’s a time and a place and it certainly wasn’t here or now, during a powerful hangover on possibly the hottest day of our travels so far.
I got my dinner from a Japanese food stall, then ran back to meet the others at the worst Indian restaurant any of us have ever encountered.
The Romans had been awaiting their food for an eternity, and when the three curries were finally brought down, they were sorely unimpressed. In fact, they were so unimpressed that in no time at all they were pushing their plates away from them and giving me full reign to tuck into the leftovers. I didn’t think the curries were so bad, it was really the naan bread which sucked – definitely the worst lump of naan I’ve ever tasted, possibly the worst lump of bread I’ve ever tasted too.
‘I’d give this meal 3 out of 10,’ Caesar said in disgust. ‘No I’d give it 2, and that’s just because I don’t want to give it 1.’
On our return to the hostel, we discovered the coolest street in Pai. Almost every shop was a cannabis shop, but nowhere was more enticing than a place called “Cheese Madness” which was serving cheese, wine and weed. I couldn’t help but lament deeply that we hadn’t found this place sooner. I could have easily stayed out exploring, getting high and drinking wine, but the others were done-in, so I followed them over the bamboo bridge which felt flimsier than ever and – I did not fail to notice – also now had a chunk missing.
We all lay in bed at the end of the day. While Caligula played Catan on his laptop, a cat snuck into our dorm and jumped up into his lap. Perhaps it knew what a terrible day he had. I think it cheered him up…
Our early retirement is probably for the best. Tomorrow will be no day for lying in. We’re getting up early for another long journey. Pai is done for us now. We are heading for Chiang Rai, our last main destination in North Thailand. Laos is almost upon us.