The second day of our trek starts with an early breakfast of toast, eggs and fruit eaten outside at a long bench table. Someone has re-lit the remnants of last night’s fire and we huddle around it in an attempt to keep warm. The boys’ damp swimmers from yesterday are propped above the fire in the hope that they might dry before we leave. Breakfast is accompanied by tea and coffee kept hot on the ashes of the fire – and surprisingly – Tesco jam – is there no limit to their dominance of the grocery sector???? After packing up our few belongings we depart the village unmarked by the villagers. This is clearly a common experience and despite their seeming remoteness a group of westerners holds little novelty for them. Today’s trek is downhill most of the way and much less strenuous although the steep descents still take their toll on the old joints (and the young one’s if their protestations of tiredness when we reach the lunch pick-point are anything to go by). The Americans as ever are setting the pace, whilst we are trailing at the back wondering why they are so eager to rush through this beautiful scenery. Our walk is through forested hillsides which change in character as we descend. Sometimes dense with tall trees, sometimes more sparsely covered with low growing bushy vegetation. Everywhere deep channels suggest the torrents that must cut through these hillsides in the rainy season, washing away most of the paths and presumably making much of our trek impassable.
Our first stop is another waterfall. As with the one yesterday, this is only a fraction of what must be a spectacular cascade in the rainy season and much of the rocky river bed is exposed. The water is even colder here, but Andy and two of the Americans take a brief dip. Andy is negotiating the dry rocks around the falls when he loses his grip and takes a nasty tumble smacking his ribs in the process. We can only hope that he has done nothing serious and that it is only a case of severe bruising, but the remainder of the descent is painful and arduous.
The day’s trekking ends at the ‘jungle’ 7 Eleven; as small cabin selling soft drinks and a few sweets and snacks. This little cabin on the edge of a Shan village with it’s tongue-in-cheek name reflects the ubiquitous presence of 7 Eleven’s in Thailand. You are never very far from a 7 Eleven here – and if Chiang Mai is representative – there is one every few 100 yards or so, sometimes on either side of the street. We rest here for 10 minutes before walking a few yards to where a pick-up truck, this time without seats in the back, is waiting to take us to lunch. Thankfully, the restaurant is not too far way and the bumpy discomfort is short-lived. Soon we are soon tucking into a basic Pad Thai and a fruit dessert.
After lunch another short ride takes us to the bamboo rafting point. The rafts are about 30 foot long and made of bamboo poles held together by strips of old rubber tyres. We share our raft with the Belgian ladies and the boatman who is going to pole us through the gentle rapids. As we clamber aboard and sit down on the raft it sinks slightly below the water – just as well we brought some dry clothes with us! The boatman turns out to be very skilled as he manoeuvres the unwieldy raft around boulders, logs and rapids without incident. The river is untouched and very picturesque with over-hanging jungle and the occasional glimpse of the paddy fields and eventually the buildings of the village at the end of our ride. At the end of the journey the rafts are dismantled into their component parts and trucked back upstream where it is a simple job to re-assemble them ready for their next outing.
Thanks partly to the Americans pushing the pace and, we suspect, a curtailment of the original itinerary, we are back in Chiang Mai by around 4.30pm still wondering why they didn’t want to savour the experience in a more leisurely manner.