I just decided last-minute to get on a bus and go to Pai, a town known for being super chilled out and populated with a bunch of hippies. When I see it like that it’s hard to imagine why I’d want to go there. Really though, I didn’t want anything to do with Pai itself, only its facilities and proximity to the solitude of the mountains.

This impromptu trip started after I met a strangely cute sharp-featured German girl in Chiang Mai. We were in a coffee shop and she saw me struggling to plug my computer in the outlet becuase I have a US plug and it didn’t match the standard Thai outlet—she started to help me but I figured it out on my own because I’m an adult. My new acquaintance Angelika had just gotten back from riding a motorbike in Pai and told me how the streets were wide, uncrowded and that renting a bike there was just a few dollars a day. Solid information.

Andrew, Lauren and I had split up yesterday and didn’t I didn’t yet have a place to stay for the night or another destination. I determined my options were 1) stay in Chiang Mai another night and hang out, 2) take the overnight train to Bangkok or 3) go to Pai and get a motorbike. I commenced doing minimal research about Pai before deciding it sounded like the most fun. Chiang Mai is about four hours by bus to Pai so I needed catch one of the buses soon in order to arrive before dark. I invited Angelika to get something to eat with me but this is not a love story and she said she had eaten a late breakfast…so I would be eating alone.

I got a tuk-tuk to the Arcade Bus Station and bought a ticket for Pai. It was 13:30, the bus left at 14:00 and I still had to find somewhere to eat. Two equally unsanitary looking open-air “restaurants” lined the entrance to the bus station. The first one had nothing resembling food, only a bunch of random meats that looked like they would end up being painful laxatives. The second place had a pictureless menu so I had the fortune of not having to see the food before I ordered it. While I was waiting for my food one of the guys that worked there insisted on turning a hose on and watering the asphalt. I thought about this a minute but then realized I didn’t really care. To celebrate my indifference I ordered a Coke, received Pepsi, ate quickly and walked to the bus.

When I first saw the bus I couldn’t stop laughing. It was a half-sized bus with a couple of orange stripes painted across the side; I imagined it being the type of garbage truck a city populated with clowns would have. I got on the clown bus and immediately began staring at the Ernie Hand Puppet that was hanging from the ceiling behind the driver’s seat. Ahh…the international fascination with childrens’ cartoon characters strikes again. Ernie, coupled with various photos of monks taped to the dashboard were a sure sign this bus driver had also been the interior designer for a handful of local restaurants that had similar decorations.

The first part of the bus ride to Pai was smooth, mostly traversing the land horizontally. We stopped about halfway to take a snack/restroom break. As the bus pulled in to park the slight drizzle changed into a violent downpour and by the time the driver opened the door there was a two-inch stream running outside and the rain was blowing diagonally into the bus, on everyone’s belongings. This must happen frequently because most people just smiled as the bus driver spread a dirty tarp over the floor and haphazardly threw a bunch of newspapers on the floor to give us some dry footing. I put the raincover on my camera bag and got out to investigate just how dirty a restroom could be. When I got to the entrance a guy asked how much I would like to “donate” to use the restroom. I didn’t want to donate anything because I’d been in a restroom in Thailand before…but I gave him the equivalent of 15 cents ONLY so I didn’t look like an asshole. Trust me, I should’ve been the one receiving money instead—I was basically cleaning urinal just by pissing in it. I bought a pack of peanut M&Ms in order to remind myself of the USA, of not paying to use restrooms and of cleanliness in general.

The remainder of the journey consisted of repeated sharp curves with scenic drop-offs as we ascended the mountains. It was pleasant despite the fact that the bus was traveling at an inappropriately high velocity given the weather and road conditions. I tried not to compare it to how I would expect someone to drive if I were at home—this guy probably drives the route everyday in even worse conditions, and from the looks of it, he regularly practices doing it with his eyes closed. As we climbed in elevation the scenery changed from thousands of lush palm trees and other exotic-looking plants to a deciduous forest. Even though this made sense biologically I didn’t see it coming and I couldn’t stop smiling just thinking about how cool nature is.

I’m not sure of the intervals, but every so often there are military checkpoints on roads throughout the country; we’d stopped at one earlier but nothing significant happened. On previous experiences I’d usually pretended to be asleep to try and avoid digging out my passport (which was sometimes checked, sometimes not). This time I was near the front of the bus and I had been staring out the window at a man with an automatic weapon casually slung over his back so by the time the guards came around it was too late to pretend to be asleep.

A guard entered the bus and collected national ID cards of the people who looked Thai, Burmese or not white. One man was pulled off the clown bus and three guards proceeded to scrutinize his ID and dig through his fanny pack (not joking, he really had a fanny pack). The guards confiscated something that must’ve been dangerous or prohibited then sent the man back on the bus. Then the guard walked toward the bus, either sensing the passengers wanted to see what was going on, or just wanting to show off his new acquisition. Obliging, I peeked to see what he had. I hesitated, then quickly unpacked my camera, snapping a few photos of the unbelievably non-intimidating-looking guard, hands outstretched holding a bunch of marbles in one hand…and a slingshot in the other. Surely these diligent public servants had just saved the lives of hundreds of people. I now fully understood the importance of Thai military checkpoints.

The guard exited, the bus resumed its winding course and shortly afterward we arrived in Pai. The funniest thing about this whole journey is that the guards didn’t even bother to ask about the nuclear rocket launcher I had protruding from under my seat…oh well.

Next time I’ll tell you guys about my actual experience in Pai. It will feature even less human interaction, and more pictures.

See you then!