I awoke to the sound of a hundred roosters. Soft light crept through the wooden walls of the hostel and a magnificent view awaited on the outside balcony. But I was tired and stinky – I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered – all I wanted to do was drink coffee and eat breakfast by the river. I did not plan on getting into the river, but that’s exactly what ended up happening.
Caligula dropped into the rubber ring with a tremendous splash, sending waves in all directions. I attempted to lower myself in gracefully but I may as well have dive-bombed. It was a very unsuccessful landing. Then we were ago, sailing swiftly down the river in rubber rings as I frantically tried to apply more sun-cream before my bare chest became grilled meat.
It took a while to relax, what with being at the mercy of the sun’s scorching rays and the current of the river, which was constantly trying to push me into the reedy bank or capsize me on the rocks. But a few panicky paddles with my hands was usually enough to steer my rubber ring on course, and as the river continued to curve and bend, taking me in unknown directions I began to feel my skepticism turn to excitement. The best day of my travels so far was upon me.
Faint music came to my ear, as swiftly and suddenly as a wandering bee. I looked up to see people getting out of the river, climbing up onto the bank with their floats. Some Thai children had entered the water and began to push us towards the bank. There were coolers stacked with Changs, plates of fried bananas and prawn crackers and a table set for beer pong. It was the setup of a beach party – but in this case, a riverbank party. I joined the Romans and we got drinking.
Hours passed by and I lost all sense of time on the riverbank as the heat pounded us as relentlessly as the music. Caligula and Tiberius played volleyball while Caesar and I played beer-pong. We became playful as we knocked back beers. We wrote our roman names upon each other’s chests in bright orange paint – but we swapped names with each other. I became Caligula (the emperor of profanity and incest) and Caligula became Seneca (the wise philosopher). Caesar became Tiberius and Tiberius became Caesar. Suddenly, it felt like I was on holiday again. All my worries and cares had been lost in the river.
When I finally got back into the river I felt as glorious as the sun. I jumped into my rubber ring and launched myself downstream. We sailed passed stretches of jungle and rice paddies and watched mountains of overturned earth being assaulted by tractors which swung their mechanical heads almost right over our passage on the water. Water broke apart and sloshed over rocks rushing faster downstream and the flotilla of drunken westerners began to break apart, becoming separated in the endless flow. People were bumping into each other, swapping drinks and getting trapped near the bank. I felt like I was white water rafting again, except this time I was equipped with multiple cans of beer instead of protective gear. ‘Ass up’ became a natural instinct every time you felt the water becoming shallow or you saw some pointy rocks shooting towards you.
No sooner were we out of the water for the final time, Tiberius found a packet of white powder on the ground. Minutes later it had been snorted by Caligula. But when Caligula didn’t seem to be experiencing the expected effects – indeed, a strange burning sensation in his nostrils rather than whatever the hell he was hoping for, Tiberius dipped his finger in and tasted the substance. Needless to say, it was not what anyone had first thought it was, and its true identity quickly explained to us why it had been so carelessly thrown away in the first place.
It was salt. We got a lift back to the centre of town in the back of a truck. After being asked ‘Are you going to the jungle rave’ for the third time by the third different person, it was mutually agreed between us that we were probably going to the jungle rave, however amazing or amazingly shit it may be.
After washing the crusty grime from my body – I was in such dire need of a shower – we shot right back into Pai where we attacked the food stalls, buying a multitude of meat sticks. I also grabbed myself a bowl of Khao Soi. It was nowhere near as good as the big hearty vegan one I had in Chiang Mai, but for 50 baht it was pretty damn splendid.
We danced in one of the many bars upon that teaming road we explored with awe the night before. Caligula got twerked on and everyone tried to get me with some poor Indian bloke who now probably goes around wondering if he acts gay.
We got a taxi out to the Jungle Rave. I say a taxi, it was a small red van which we were packed and jostled into.
When we jumped off into the middle of nowhere, a poem erupted. Not very dignified and slightly animalistic. ‘Howwayyy’ echoed the Romans across the barren rice fields. Caligula’s phone suffered grievous injures – the first fatality of the Roman’s rush of triumph.
The jungle rave did indeed turn out to be amazing… just as amazingly shit as I’d imagined. Of course, once it was graced by the Romans it went up a notch, but not even we could save this cluster of huts pumping unappealing music and serving tacos so small you could loose them in the palm of your hand… It reminded me of some of the crappie freshers parties I subjected myself to during my miserable first year of uni. Except those parties didn’t have hungry dogs prowling the perimeter. Caligula and I kept on our guard.
Lots of money was wasted, but no arguments ensued. Yesterday it felt like we were about to crumble, but today has cemented Pai as the best place we’ve visited yet and simultaneously cemented our resolve and excitement for what’s to come. We all agree this day has been a rush of triumph: the best day of the journey so far.
