14 October
And so we start on the loop. It turns out that Sak hasn’t been on
most of this route, so it’s as new for him as for me. Asking around the bar it seems most of the locals and the
foreign residents haven’t done it either.
And I get a few incredulous looks along the lines of you’re going all
that way on that road? I’m not
doing the full loop via Mae Sarieng, but taking a short cut through the middle,
cutting across the N-S mountain ranges on a less popular road. Consensus is this is even more risky.
Anyway, the first section is well known to
me, to Doi Inthanon, and straightforward.
It turns out Sak hasn’t even been to this, the highest mountain in
Thailand and also regarded as a sacred site by Thais, so he’s thrilled to be
going there. We first have to
traverse the boring linear development along the highway south of CM, but soon
turn off along the pleasant wooded road that rises towards the mountains. We stop at the Vatchirathan waterfall,
in full spate just after the rains, and through the tribal villages where they
grow temperate fruit and veg that can’t grow at lower, hotter altitudes. On up to the royal chedi. These are modern granite faced
monuments to the Thai king and queen consort, surrounded by pleasant gardens,
and when we visited swathed in cloud.
A large sign there states that this is the highest point on Doi Inthanon
‘measured by air pressure’. I’ve
puzzled at this each time I’ve passed it.
A few kilometers ahead the main peak is at least 100m higher at
2565m. Does some quirk of the
prevailing wind reduce the pressure on this side of the mountain? It’s as if in the eyes of the Air Force
(who built and manage the chedi) the barometer trumps the theodolite. Now we turn off the Doi Inthanon road, after
driving up and down a few times failing to find the turning, into new territory
for me, the road to Mae Chaem.
Only 23km but probably the most difficult road I’ve driven. It twists and turns seemingly round
every tree and rock, and local drivers have little sense of keeping to the
left, so lots of welly on the horn is necessary on blind bends. If the other 300km are like this… But the countryside is spectacular. We cross a series of passes and then
drop into the hidden valley of Mae Chom in the golden light of late
afternoon.
We stop at a guest house with the most
amazing view across the valley. We
are greeted by a very handsome looking teenager, who looks entirely European –
light brown hair and eyes, tall, with a perfect tan. However, he’s a native Thai speaker with barely any
English.
This resort must once have been very
pleasant if simple, with small villas getting the most of the view, in
extensive mature gardens. However
it looks like it hasn’t had any maintenance for years and is in rapid decline. The boy and another almost the same
age, mope all day at a table in the restaurant they have colonized with the
detritus of youth, playing computer games. They seem to be the only staff. There is a swimming pool, however, that appears to be
properly maintained, so we spend our time there gazing at the view. A middle aged European man is sunbathing: he merely grunts and stares when I say hello. I take him to be one of the guests, but we keep seeing him. At dinner, he sits alone at the corner
of the largest table, beer in hand, occasionally glowering at the guests. Eventually I realize he is the Nordic owner, and it feels like we are bit players in some Bergmanesque tragedy. Great dinner though,
served up by the enigmatic young man (perhaps the owner’s son). Pra taptim (a plump local river fish) with
ginger and a fierce green chilli sauce, red chicken curry with beans and green
tomatoes, and tom kah kai.
In the morning we decide to get out of the
atmosphere here as fast as possible; and we have the longest leg of our trip
ahead of us, 160km to Mae Hong Son.
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