A Challenge Too Far?

Thursday 12 October

Our last morning waking up in a ‘proper’ bed for four days, and I was beginning to wonder what I had let us in for.

I am writing this blog after returning from the jungle, and as with having a baby, a couple of days after, you have forgotten all the pain and agony you went through and just remember the good bits. But I will try and describe the agonies, but I can say now, trekking is probably one of the new experience in my 60th year that I won’t be trying too often again.

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reakfast at the hotel was .
e agonies I went through, and tell you now, trekking is probably one of the new experiences I won' reakfast at this Chiang Mai hotel and Colin ended up eating most of my cooked breakfast, as well as his own – two poached eggs, sausage and tomato. I did manage a slice of toast and marmite – not quite what the doctor ordered to set us up for visiting the jungle – but I reasoned that we did have plenty of ‘nibbles’ with us if I got hungry.

At 09.00 sharp two tut-tuts arrived and we all piled in with our bulging back-packs. Just as we left the hotel, the rain started – just misty rain to start and we declined having the sides down on our tut-tut in favour of being able to see where we were going. Mistake! We hadn’t gone much further down the road when the rain became heavier and drenching, blowing in on us from all sides – were we going to spend three wet days in the jungle? We stopped after about an hour, in a small town, where we all bought ponchos – cheap plastic coveralls that would keep us dry from head to shins, even with our bags on too! We were also persuaded to buy water bottle carriers from local tradeswomen in the market across the road, prettily decorated with embroidery and beads. We hadn’t got an inch of room in the bags, so they would come in handy for carrying our essential water supplies.

Onward, and it seemed forever upward, as we twisted and turned along the rutted roads, getting ever closer to the jungle. By the time we reached a café set on the mountainside the rain was easing, and we all enjoyed the fried rice and vegetables that was specially cooked for us with or without eggs. There was Thai fish sauce with small birds eye chillis for those who wanted it hotter! Back on board the tut-tuts for another half an hour’s ride, we reached a small collection of huts that was to be the beginning of our trek! Having all sprayed every uncovered inch of our bodies with mozzy spray, we each collected a life jacket – we would need these for rafting and had to carry them with us for the next two days – which we attached to our back-packs on our shoulders and we were off. Downhill – for just a short way. It had just about stopped raining and the sun was trying to shine – there had to be something good happening. Anan’s assistant/porter (I don’t know his name) cut us all walking sticks from the bamboo growing alongside the track. We didn’t realize at this time, just how essential these were going to be.

We trudged along and it was not long before the terrain began to rise, slowly at the start. At the top of the first rise, we all had to check our shoes and legs for leeches and sure enough, most of us had at least one – small brown wriggling worm-like creatures, no fatter than a piece of cotton – they obviously hadn’t found blood yet – were caught in the webbing of our shoes. We had to either spray them with our mosquito repellent, which made them fall off, or Anan picked them quickly off with his hands and threw them away. Apparently they can feel the vibrations in the ground as you walk towards them, and jump at you as you pass by, and you have no idea they are there, worming their way into your shoes and socks to get at your blood!!! Anan actually had one on his leg, which he sprayed off, but it left a small, slightly bloody wound on his shin.

We continued to trek along very wet tracks going deeper into the jungle, the route becoming very steep uphill! Everybody knows I am hopeless at walking up hills – a short flight of stairs is enough to make me puff! But along with my sore throat (I had been continually sucking on antiseptic sweets to ease it) I now seemed to be coughing as well. We continued to climb upwards through muddy quagmires, across streams, on paths rutted with the tree roots and often very narrow, where the ground had fallen away in mudslides during the rains. And this was supposed to be the easy route! The climb went on and on, up and up, till I thought we must soon be reaching the sky. At the top of this first mountain we reached the first Karen village, a very primitive collection of huts and barns, home to one of the ancient clans of Thai tribal people (Anan was half Karan and half Thai) that inhabit the northern hills of Thailand. These villages welcome visitors as they believe that “a white younger brother will come from over the waters bringing with him knowledge of writing tht had been lost long ago” Sadly that was not us today. There are about 4 million Karen in Thailand, who originally traveled here from Tibet. Some of the tribes in the very far north of the country do not ever allow visitors into their villages for fear of infection and intrusion into their way of life. In one of the barns, an old lady (I have no idea how old she was, but she looked about ninety, with a brown crinkly face and very thin bony body and wizened features) was stirring a large vat over a red hot wood fire – apparently it contained vegetables and leaves and stalks from local plants which would be food for the wild boars, one of which we had seen on entering the village, snuffling around on the ground for grubs, but luckily chained, well away from us. There were lots of chickens clucking around, many with a clutch of small and cute baby chicks following in their wake. We stopped just long enough for some to replenish their stock of water and drinks, and others to have a “cigarette” break – four of the party like their ciggys and take every opportunity to light up.

It was then time to start going down the other side of the mountain, just as steep as the upward climb, but almost more difficult. I wasn’t panting as much as going uphill, but the concentration needed to decide the best place to put your foot for each step was very demanding. It was a long way, back down into the valley, across a ford and then . . . we started upwards once more! By this time, along with another of the ladies, I was finding it very difficult, and Anan took pity on me and carried my back pack to the top of this climb – another high peak – for which I was truly grateful. It was a long hard slog to the top, the paths were still slippery and treacherous, but the sun was now shining and the temperature had risen and it was a glorious afternoon for a ‘walk’ under the canopy of the jungle. At the summit we had magnificent views of the surrounding mountains and valleys, all covered in jungle just as you see in pictures and films. Something like cicadas chirped perpetually in the background, but you didn’t really notice until you stopped. Anan told us it was now just a short trip downhill now to reach our camp for the night. It couldn’t come too quickly for me. (We have since learned that Thai people under-exaggerate times and distances.) This ‘short trip’ turned out to be more than an hour – down some very slippery and perilous slopes, our ‘walking sticks’ saving us from slipping and falling on many occasions. A couple of people did actually lose their footing, but managed to just sit on their bottoms, as opposed to falling seriously – its very hard to get up with a heavy back-pack on your back. This ‘short’ downward trek took more than an hour.

At the bottom of the descent we came to a large fast flowing, muddy brown river and had to negotiate a bridge of bamboo poles and only thin wire for a handrail – walking with your feet splayed was the easiest way to grip the poles with our sodden, muddy shoes, as we crept across, not looking down at the torrent below. Having negotiated this bridge successfully, we shortly came to a small stream, with stepping stones to cross, and on the last one my foot slipped and suddenly my shoe was full of icy water. This was almost the last straw for me - I was totally exhausted, my toes were extremely sore where they had banged against the front of my shoes whilst descending (I hadn’t tied my shoes tight enough to stop my feet moving inside whilst on the move), and my throat was sore. I also felt pathetic, as, on the whole, the others all seemed to be coping well. Colin was there to encourage me on, and luckily there was just another couple of hundred yards to climb to our camp for the night in a second Karan village. Light was fading fast at this point – it was about 18.00, and it is completely dark by 18.30 – and we had walked about 8 kms – Thai version 5 kms and Aussie version 10 kms.

I crawled up the steep wooden steps of a large hut on stilts to the ‘gallery’ where there was a long table and benches, and a door leading to our sleeping quarters for the night. We had been promised a mattress, pillow, blanket and mosquito net and this is exactly what we got - twelve mattresses arranged around a barn-like room, with high ceilings (built like this to allow the air to circulate) covered in dried leaves as thatch. Everyone else went off to shower – either in the stream nearby or to use the shower provided in a small hut down a muddy track – a hosepipe on the wall, gushed cold water, that you could spray all over you – there was lots of laughing and squealing. It was in the same building as one of the two toilets in the tourist area of the village – squat type of course (the other was in a small hut closer to our living space and was even more disgusting) – and everything was muddy and wet, and the floor flooded as the water gushed from the shower hose. I didn’t make the shower or the stream – I was shaking so much, and so tired and achy, that I couldn’t face climbing down those stairs again until I had to later for a necessary visit to a loo. But I did manage to change into my long sleeve Tshirt and jarmie bottoms, to avoid the mozzies and other insects flying around. By the time everyone returned to the gallery it was totally dark outside – the hut had an electric light on the gallery – powered by solar panels – and two candles had been provided in the ‘bedroom’. There were plenty of beers in the cool box, but my hand was shaking almost too much to hold the can. We had had to take our shoes off at the bottom of the stairs and when I inspected my toes they looked very bruised and battered and the nails of my big toes didn’t look to healthy either. I would have to leave further investigation until the morning.

Dinner was cooked by Anan and tonight he served us chicken with ginger and spring onions, pork with green beans and steamed rice, followed by pineapple. There was loads of food, all very simple and delicious, but we were all too exhausted to eat a lot and we were all in bed by about 20.00, exhausted. We had another trek to look forward to in the morning.