Northern Laos: Early Symtoms of the Willy Fog's Disease

No, not dead yet. Once again I would like to apologize to my loyal followers for this 13-day disruption but there is a good reason for it as I will explain later.

During the last weeks I've continued my course across the infamous Golden Triangle. After my short visit to Myanmar I re-entered Thailand just for a few hours before proceeding to Laos. Accompanied by Jane (19, English) I crossed the Mekong river and paid the $35 that would grant me a tourist visa. 35 minutes later our bus to Luang Nam Tha crashed into a cow (R.I.P.). The driver got off, picked the broken pieces of the right indicator, shook off his hands and started the engine again. Welcome to Laos.

The incident with that poor beast (I mean the driver) is pretty much the only exciting event that I can recall from the last two weeks. How's is that possible in one of the most interesting destinations in the entire world? - some may wonder. Well my guess is that I'm suffering the early symptoms of one of the most common diseases among long-term travelers: Amazement Overdose.

The Amazement Overdose (also known as Willy Fog's Disease) stands for the difficulties that some globetrotters experience to perceive the actual degree of coolness of the places that they visit. In most cases the AO is the result of a prolonged exposure to a large set of adrenaline-bursting once-in-a-lifetime experiences. There is no medical treatment for it and even though it is not potentially dangerous for the traveler's life it makes the whole traveling experience a lot less worthwhile.

Aware of the problem I've drawn a list of measures that I'm putting in practice right away:

Iñaki's Plan to Overcome the Amazement Overdose

1. Find a nice place to settle for a while
1.1. It must be cheap
1.2. It must be small and close to nature
1.3. It must offer interesting things to do

2. Hang out with the same people for a while
2.1. Try to remember their names and make them remember yours
2.2. Try to learn a little bit about them
2.3. Try to learn a little bit of their language (if possible)

3. Do something useful
3.1. At the end of the day I should be able to mention one useful thing that I've done

4. Eat and sleep well
4.1. Never skip meals or hours of sleep
4.2. If possible cook, eat (and sleep) in company (hahaha, good luck with that!)

I've already sorted out the most critical aspects of this master plan. Now it's time to put it in practice. I estimate that if everything goes well I should be completely recovered and able to continue with my trip in a couple of weeks (I won't leave until my morale rises above 90). However if it goes too well I might end up stuck in Laos for longer than I thought :)!

To be continued...

PS: I'm so glad that this post gave me the opportunity to honour Sir William Fog. I grew up with these cartoons and they might be the reason why I'm here today. For those who want to know more about Mr. Fog and his friends here you have some info.


Durante las dos ultimas semanas he continuado mi periplo por el infame Triangulo de Oro. Tras mi visita a Birmania retorne a Tailandia por unas horas antes de volver a cruzar el rio Mekong para entrar en Laos. Laos es un pequeno pais en medio del subcontinente sudasiatico con una vegetacion abrumadora y pueblos legendarios. A pesar de esto, durante los 13 ultimos dias he intentado recapitular eventos interesante sobre los que escribir en el blog y no he encontrado ninguno (bueno, tal vez pueda comentar el pequeno incidente entre mi autobus y una pobre vaca que acabo con esta ultima hecha filetes antes de tiempo). La unica explicacion que se me ocurre para esta falta de interes es que tal vez este sufriendo los primeros sintomas del Mal del Gran Viajero al cual he bautizado como el Sindrome Willy Fog.
El Sindrome Willy Fog se define como la insensibilidad que algunos viajeros de largo recorrido presentan ante la continua sucesion de actividades, eventos y paisajes que en cualquier otro contexto serian imborrables en su memorial pero que al confrontarse uno tras otro acaban generando una falsa sensacion de normalidad. Que quiero decir con esto? pues bien, por ejemplo aqui en Laos me he topado con unos paisajes de montana/selva arbolada que gozarian de mi mas alto reconocimiento si no fuera porque hace apenas dos meses estaba surcando los Himalayas. Esto, aunque no es peligroso en si, hace la experiencia de viajar menos provechosa e interesante. Siendo consciente del problema antes de salir de Vitoria, he trazado un plan que me devolvera la capacidad de asombro para seguir con mi viaje. Basicamente se trata de establecerme en un pueblo/ciudad y tomar una rutina diaria durante algunas semanas. Si es posible tratare de hacer algo util e interesante que me haga sentir como en casa antes de volver a lanzarme a la carretera. Si todo va bien un par de semanas deberian bastar, si todo va DEMASIADO bien tal vez acabe atascado en Laos por mas tiempo de lo que pensaba! Continuara...

Pics'n'vids: Northern Laos

Sweet & Sour Myanmar

When my friend Linda mentioned Myanmar a few months ago a big question mark popped above my head. Further chatting enabled my to conclude that she had to be talking about Burma (Birmania, in Spanish). The ? shrank but didn't vanish. Who'd have told me then that a few months later I would get the chance to visit legendary Birmania and its great peoples.

MyanmarFor those who - like me then - know little or nothing about Myanmar (or Burma) here it goes a few facts and figures: An estimated population of approx. 56 million Burmese live sandwiched between northeast India, China and Thailand. After subsequent Chinese, Siamese, British and Japanese domination, the country is now ruled by a bunch of scrupleless thieves disguised as pseudo-communists. These insatiable government persists thanks to the interested support of next door's India and China - who suck the natural gas, wheat and teak wood supplies - along with the ostracism of the international community.

Despite most travelers avoid the visit to Myanmar (for the government co-owns most of the tourist-oriented businesses), I'm glad that I did it for a few days. I will skip the fascinating tribe peoples whose description of an average alien comprises a young man carrying a pot of Cola Cao. I will also omit the thrill of being the only foreigner in the entire town (even province I think) for a few days. What I will talk about today is the story of Mr. Yun, my trekking guide in Kengtung and one of the most inspiring persons that I've ever met.

This is the story of a smart man in a country where only smart men get one - in the best case - opportunity to make a good honest living. Mr. Yun (note that this isn't his real name) was born some thirty years ago in a rather poor Shan family. At a young age his understanding teacher would allow him to skip a few hours of school in order to make some money working at a video shop. In addition, every afternoon the young Yun would work as a waiter at a local restaurant frequented by the few foreigners who stumbled here on their way to China. During these years Yun had the best possible language teachers: well-trained instructors who taught him the officially-imposed Burmese at school, Thai tourist and businessmen loyal to the restaurant who would speak only in Thai to him, and finally Bruce Willis' and Sylvester Stallone's voices sounding cracked in those old VHS tapes. And in this our hero reached his 20s, a time when almost every man (and woman) feels the need to expand his boundaries. One of the regular Thai tourists offered help on the other side of the border, which our friend would cross with a fake Chinese passport, no more clothes that those he wore and 60$ in his pocket (that Thai officials reduced to 3$ soon). Once in Thailand Mr. Yun's friend would ask him what he wanted to do next, to what he answered that he's dream was to see the ocean. That he achieved days later. What next? the friend asked. Yun said that he wanted to find a job. And that's how this brave man approached his first job interview. 32 applicants for a position as a waiter in a Thai-American restaurant and only one without a Thai ID card (actually his fake Chinese passport had already expired). It is in this occasions when only smart men can take the next step. While the rest of the candidates waited for their interview, Mr. Yun stood up, entered the kitchen and started bringing plates to the tourist waiting at the tables - after all he knew how to do that. That night Mr. Yun learnt that 'French fries' had little to do with Frenchmen bathing in a fryer. The American owner noticed that the young boy was able to communicate with the foreign customers in English, after what he called him to his room. How many languages do you speak? he asked. Four! Thai, Chinese, English and Burmese. Although the young Yun omitted Shan, it was clear to the manager that Yun was an illegal immigrant. In spite of this he gave him the job. For a few months Mr. Yun worked at the restaurant, where foreigners who enjoyed his company would pay him dinners and beers thanks to which his English got almost perfect. One day and due to some economic problems the restaurant closed. It was then when Mr. Yun experienced the drama of a disheartening majority of Burmese emigrants. Peoples who populate the night markets of the big touristic cities selling everything (this includes their bodies when it comes to young girls) to earn just enough money to pay their 'bosses'. Once again our smart friend would reveal against his doom. He crossed one of the many clandestine bamboo bridges over the Mekong river to sneak in his own country! Back in Burma his knowledge of languages granted him a job helping Benny, the one and only trekking guide in the Shan state. With Benny he learned everything about the business, from dealing with foreigners and corrupt officers to the culture and language of the local hill tribes (currently he speaks 10 different languages). Those were the good days. Unfortunately good days don't last long in this country. An infamous expedition to some remote area of the country ended up with Benny dying from Malaria in dark cell of a Burmese jail [...]. For some reason the amount of tourist dropped dramatically to reach the miserable numbers that they represent nowadays. And although there is no happy ending for this story, Mr. Yun proved his condition of smart man once again by recycling himself into an improvised English teacher, which allows him to bring food to the table around which his two children sit and eat every day.

Without a doubt meeting such a person has been one of the most educative experiences of my life. I was aware of the difficult situations that immigrants have to face when, for example, they arrive to Europe after crossing the sea from Africa; but now I can put a face and give a name to those tired men that we see on the news almost every day. The most annoying thing is that - in contrast with African emigrants - Burmese people come from a country rich in resources where almost anything could grow anywhere. Then one can only blame one of the greediest and meanest governments on Earth for this. I know we cannot do much but being aware of the problem and spreading the word could be the first step towards a better future for the sweet people of Myanmar. If you want to know more please visit http://helpmyanmar.wordpress.com and if you ever get the chance to meet Mr. Yun ask me for contact details.

Interesting things I've learnt:
  • The Shan people represent up to 9% of the Burmese population. Most of them live in the Shan state (east-most province of the country) and speak Shan. Needless to say that the Burmese government would ignore and even ban any sign of Shan culture.
  • A '84 Hyunday Accord cost whooping $23000 in 1999 (twice as much as brand-new). In 2003 the government closed the roads of the Shan state and expropriated every car in the province. The good cars would be used or sold by members of the government, the rest would be abandoned (locked) until the rain dissolves them.
  • The approximate prize of a mobile phone in Myanmar is $40 (more or less the same as in Europe). However the license to use it rounds the $2300 (bought to an officer in the black market). This is cheap if compared with the $2800 that one must pay to purchase a land line.
  • When operating, a flight ticket from Kengtung to Yangoon costs around $80 to a foreigner. The same ticket would cost $150 to a Burmese citizen!
  • Eng tribes chew a mix of tobacco and leaves in order to blacken their teeth. White teeth are rejected as they are characteristic of dogs, said to be dumb and lazy.
  • Akha tribe-peoples accept and practice polygamy. Moreover an Akha couple will not marry until the upcoming husband has granted a child in his future wife's abdomen.
  • The characteristic Akha hats can be worth up to $2000. Each silver coin (often from th French or British empires) is worth around 100$!


Cuando mi amiga Linda menciono Birmana hace un tiempo poco me hacia pensar que meses mas tarde tendria la oportunidad de visitar dicho pais por mi mismo. Aunque la mayoria de turistas evitan su visita en apoyo al boicot internacional al que el gobierno (dueno de la mayoria de servicios orientados a los turistas) esta sometido, me alegro de haber pasado unos dias alli. Ha sido una experiencia muy instructiva, pues no solo he conocido inospitas tribus Akha y Eng personalmente, sino que ademas he aprendido mucho sobre el significado de la palabra ingusticia. Ingusticia politica, la que ejerce una gobierno de ladrones disfrazados de pseudo-comunistas. Ladrones sin escrupulos que se perpetuan en el tiempo gracias al apoyo incondicional de, entre otros, China e India (socios-chupocteros adictos a las reservas nacionales de gas natual, trigo y madera) y el ostracismo internacional. Esto condena a los casi 56 millones de birmanos a una vida de penurias e ingusticias, especialmente aquellos ciudadanos de segunda provenientes de familias Shan o de las tribus de las montanas.

Ilustrare esto con las historia personal del Sr. Yun, mi guia por las montanas de Kengtung. Yun nacio hace mas de treinta anos en el seno de una famila Shan. A temprana edad sus profesores le permitieron saltarse algunas clases para trabajar en un viejo videoclub, donde aprendia ingles gracias a las peliculas americanas. Todas las tardes tras la escuela, el joven Yun trabajaba en un restaurante local frecuentado por turistas y hombres de negocios tailandeses que paraban en la ciudad de camino a China. Como tipo listo que es, Yun aprovecho esas largas tardes para aprender el idioma Tailandes gracias a los turistas. Llegados sus 20 anos y visto el crudo panorama del pais Yun decidio probar suerte en la vecina Tailandia. Ayudado por uno de los turistas Tailandeses, Yun cruzo la frontera con un pasaporte falso, la ropa que llevaba puesta y 60 dolares que se reducirian a 3 horas despues de entrar a Tailandia (gracias a la inestimable ayuda de unos policias Tailandeses). El sueno de Yun era ver el oceano, el cual se hizo realidad gracias a su amigo Tailandes. Tras esto Yun se presento a una entrevista de trabajo. 32 aspirantes para un puesto de camarero y uno solo sin carnet de identidad Tailandes, adivinad de quien se trataba. Como hombre inteligente que es, Yun se adelanto a sus competidores. Mientras estos esperaban su turno para la entrevista Yun se puso el mandil y empezo a sacar platos de la cocina. Cuando el dueno del restaurante vio que Yun no solo era capaz de servir mesas sino que ademas podia comunicarse en ingles con los turistas, no dudo en darle el trabajo. Esos fueron unos meses felices para Yun, trabajando y haciendo amigos turistas que le pagaban cenas y cervezas durante las cuales mejoraria su ingles. Meses despues el bar cerro. Fue entonces cuando Yun encontro con el drama de los emigrantes Birmanos en Tailandia. Hombres y mujeres que pueblan los mercados nocuturnos vendiendo de todo (lo que incluye su cuerpo cuando se trata de chicas jovenes) para malvivir a la sombra de las mafias. Una vez mas Yun se revelo contra su destino. Se colo de vuelta en su propia patria a traves de uno de los numerosos puentes de bambu sobre el rio Mekong. De vuelta en casa, su dominio de los idiomas (Chino, Tailandes, Birmano, Shan e Ingles) le garantizo un trabajo junto a Benny, el unico y legendario guia turistico en la zona. Durante esos anos Yun aprendio todo sobre el negocio, desde como tratar a los turistas y oficiales corruptos hasta aprender las costumbres e idiomas de las tribus a las que visitaban (hoy en dia habla casi 10 idiomas en total). Anos despues Benny moriria en extranas circunstancias (lease problemas con el gobierno). Desde entonces el numero de turistas ha caido extrepitosamente hasta situarse en una cifra ridicula (durante la mayoria de mis dias en Kengtung fue oficialmente el unico extrangero en la ciudad). Aunque no hay final feliz, nuestro amigo Yun volveria a dar un ejemplo de supervivencia reciclandose a si mismo en un profesor de Ingles, lo cual le permite llevar pan a la mesa donde sus dos hijos comen a diario.


Sin duda alguna conocer al Sr. Yun (nombre falso, por cierto) ha sido una de las experiencias mas instructivas de mi vida. Ya conocia el drama de la emigracion pero ahora puedo poner nombre y cara a los hombres que cruzan el estrecho de Gibraltar. Lo mas triste de todo es que, a diferencia de estos, los emigrates Birmanos provienen de un pais rico en recursos naturales, donde casi cualquier semilla puede germinar y crecer en casi cualquier lugar. Entonces uno solo puede culpar a uno de los gobiernos mas crueles e insaciables del planeta por esta injusticia. Ser conscientes de esto es lo minimo que podemos y debemos hacer como primer paso hacia un futuro mejor para las buenas gentes de Birmania. Que corra la voz.

Pics'n'vids: Myanmar

Pic of the Week: Welcome to the Rainy Season

Welcome to the Rainy Season

Chiang Rai: 대한민국???

Moped!As I've evidenced over the last months, while on the road one learns a lot. Mostly about the country that he is visiting, sometimes about his own country (e.g. currently I'm reading a book about the reflections of an American globetrotter that visited Spain in the 60s) and in some other occasions about the home country of fellow travelers. I've spent the last 3 days with Anna (25, Korean) - one of the survivors of the backpackers tribe that I met in Pai - who accompanied me to Chiang Rai. This extremely funny girl has opened my eyes to the until now unknown Far East culture. Our moped tour around the psychedelic White temple (don't miss the wall painting featuring space ships and Keanu Reeves) and the huge waterfalls served me to get familiarised with facts and figures about South Korea (especially those that one cannot find in the Wikipedia). I'm not sure if I will come upon Korean soil during this diversion, but after all I've been told during the last days I'll definitely do it in the future!

Interesting things I've learnt:
  1. How to write my name in Korean.
  2. Christianity (not Buddhism) is the top religious confession in the country.
  3. Koreans drive on the RIGHT side of the road.
  4. Koreans can drink a lot, young fellows prefer a special 20% alch. vodka (Anna confessed that almost any girl could drink one bottle of this in one night!)
  5. The Korean alphabet consists of 14 consonants and 6 vowels that can be combined into characters which can be combined again into words whose meaning can only be distinguished from other homonym words by the context.
  6. Despite their small size (10x7 cm), Korean Palm computers can run almost anything made out of 0s and 1s!

It's time now to resume my quest for adventure. I'm heading north where the land grows rougher and the internet connection nonexistent so don't expect news for a while!


Creo que ha estas alturas ya esta claro que la carretera es una de las mejores escuelas que existen. En la mayoria de casos uno aprende sobre el pais que visita, otras veces sobre su propio pais (p.ej. ahora estoy leyendo un libro sobre un aventurero americano que visito la Espana profunda en los 60s) y en algunas ocasiones sobre los paises de otros viajeros. Este ha sido el caso durante los ultimos 3 dias. Gracias a Anna, una de las coreanas que conoci en Pai y que me acompano a Chiang Rai, he aprendido un gran numero de curiosidades sobre el lejano oriente. Esta coreana ha tirado por suelo mitos como que el budismo es la religion principal (en realidad es el cristianismo), o que conducen por la izquierda (en realidad conducen como en Europa), o como que los orientales son timidos (segun ella las chicas alli pueden llegar a beber una botella de vodka en una noche!). Ademas he aprendido algo del alfabeto koreano (14 consonantes y 6 vocales que dan para mucho), y ahora soy capaz de escribir mi nombre en koreano. Y todo esto entre risas y excursiones a templos y cascadas. En fin, no creo que llegue hasta Korea en este viaje pero sin duda alguna lo hare en el futuro!
PS: Me dirijo al norte donde el terreno se torna montanoso y la conexion a internet complicada asi que no espereis noticias por al menos una semana.

Pics'n'vids: Chiang Rai

Pic of the Week: Death Smokes Marlboro

Evil smokes Marlboro

Holidays in Pai-radise

First of all I would like to apologise to the readers for the unannounced interruption of the blog during the past weeks. In my defence I could say that 3 months of intensive travelling deserve some time off (!). To be more precisely 10 days of vacations in Pai - a small village in the heart of Thailand's northern mountains. Along with Pushkar and Pokhara, Pai has completed my three-of-a-kind favourite towns of the trip so far. Apart from the first letter of their names these towns have many other things in common: a lake/river, nearby mountains and a pretty laid-back atmosphere.

Pai campEmulating the ancient tribes that populate the hills that surround Pai, nomad communities of backpackers find rest to their backs in the numerous bamboo bungalows that spread along the river. The habitat offers everything that such individuals may require during their well-deserved break: a comfy hammock in the shade, a 24/7 supermarket with an extensive selection of cheap beer, a couple of second-hand book stores, infinite supplies of inexpensive Thai food, 2$/day motorcycle rentals, nearby waterfalls, a chill-out swimming pool, and a bunch of bars.

I joined a multi-national tribe consisting of 2 British (Jonny & Kerin), 2 Americans (Whitney & Fong), 3 Argentinians (Alejandro, Natalia & Rodrigo), 2 Australians (Rory & Jeff), 2 Koreans (Woami & Anna) and 1 Dutch (Kristine). Together we explored the valley in search of juicy lychees, learnt the secrets of Thai food and cleared our hangovers in the cold waters among other things. In summary not much adventure but loads of fun!


Antes de nada me gustaria pedir disculpas por mi ausencia del blog durante algunas semanas. Lo cierto es que tras 3 meses viajando he decidido tomarme unas vacaciones (ja ja ja). 10 dias en Pai para ser mas concreto. Pai, junto a Pushkar y Pokhara completa mi tridente de pueblos favoritos de lo que va de viaje. En esta aldea apartada tribus de mochileros tratan de emular a las comunidades indigenas que pueblan las montanas aledanas. Cada mochilero recibe un bungalow y hamaca amen de cerveza y comida barata por doquier y oportunidades varias para calmar las altas temperaturas (y resacas) bajo el agua de una cascada o piscina. En este habitat me las he visto durante semana y media. Junto a un punado de ingleses, americanos, australianos, argentinos, holandeses y coreanas he descubierto las bondades de la campina nortena, he cursado el arte de la cocina tailandesa y he disfrutado de hamaca y conversacion al calor de la hoguera. Hora de mover el culo.

Pics'n'vids: Pai

A Monks Story

6:32 am on the screen of my Sony Ericsson. As I've done for the last 3 days I'm driving an old Mazda EV pick-up car through a muddy track -more of a trail than a road- following the commands of a short man sitting next to me. His grey hair is very short, as though he had shaved it recently and his body skinny as if he hadn't eaten for days. I look in the side mirror to check on the load sitting on the back of the truck. Two other men dressing in orange tunics and two dogs enjoying the breeze that blows their smiling faces. Then a sharp command redirects my glance back onto the road: DELECHA!!! the Asian-impaired Spanish command for 'right'. I try to contain my guffaw but this is just too much, how the fuck did I end up here?!

Back in Holland, during one of my visits to the Joho shop in Leiden I met a very interesting guy called Marten. He had been traveling through Southeast Asia and he was willing to give me some useful hints. One of them referred to a legendary man, a former professor at the University of Chaing Mai. One day this good man decided to leave his job to become a Buddhist monk. He and two other men bought a small land among the rice fields near the northern mountains where they lived happily as forest monks. However the ex-professor -called Pongsa- missed some contact with the Western world. To solve this he came up with the great idea of hosting foreign travelers at their orchard. Nothing big, only friends of friends, people who had heard about it from other travelers.

Pongsa and meI contacted Pongsa (62, Thai) after my second day in the boring Chiang Mai. He invited me to the orchard which I accepted immediately. After my stage at the farm this was to be the second phase of my plan to meet the genuine Thailand. Three hours and two bus rides later I was picked up by a Burmese gardener who took me to Pongsa's place on his tiny scooter. The beauty of the site was only comparable to its simplicity. Three modest huts surrounded by fish-infested ponds and flanked by banana, mango and palm trees. It was getting dark so I set up my mosquito net and got ready to eat some snack before going bed. I offered some food to the monks but they refused. Later I would understand why.

I slept better than I expected. The concrete ground didn't bother me although the noise made by toads and water rats did wake me up a couple of times. The next morning Pongsa called me up at 6 am, he wanted me to drive him and the other monks to the village for his morning collect. He explained that Buddhist monks are not supposed to drive. That's how I became their choffeur for a few days. I walked with them around town to see how families offered some food that they collected in beautiful silver bowls. After this was done I drove the monks to their favorite restaurant where the four of us -in separated tables-had a XXL breakfast. It was then when Pongsa revealed the strange thing concerning the food. Buddhist monks cannot eat anything considered food after noon. This is meant to prevent the smallest desire to have sex, which is the most terrible sin that a monk can commit. For the same reason they cannot sleep on comfortable beds neither can they touch or be touched by any female. This last rule converted me in the virtual intermediary in all the processed that involved the exchange of items such as money and food between women and the monks. For the rest of the first and second day Pongsa guided me through the orchard describing the different fruits that their gardener grew there (since they are banned to do it themselves).

The next day and after the routine collect Pongsa and me got ready for a 2-day trek in the nearby mountains. Following the example of the skinny man I packed light, just a sleeping bag, a mosquito net and few clothes to be warm at night. Given the food constraints this was to be an endurance test for me.

We left the pick-up at the food of the mountain and started the climb. A few hours of dry forests preceded humid ones. The heat was unbearable. Then Pongsa suggested that we should take a shortcut. Of course I agreed - how could anyone question a former professor turned into a Buddhist monk, I though! Well, I hope Pongsa knows finances and marketing (his subjects at uni) better that he does the local trails because he lost the track which led us to the bloody middle of the jungle. To my surprise I happen to be a quite tough guy. I dealt just fine with the scorpions, little snakes and thorny bushes that we came across until I found the way out. Back on the trail we proceeded to the hill tribe village near where we wanted to spend the night. The tribe people were quite disappointing, apart from the language that they speak there are no major differences with the villagers that I met in other parts of the country.

We spent the night in a shelter near the headquarters of the Doi Suthep National Park. I waited until Pongsa went bed to have my limited supper consisting of fried pig skins and fruits that I had collected that morning.

WaterfallThe second day in the mountains was different. We walked on the road until we reached a royal palace, the winter residence of HRM Bhumibol Adulyadej and his family. After a quick visit to the gardens we left the busy roads to re-enter the natural trails. The trail run along a series of beautiful waterfalls, the kind of thing that you only see in the movies. I splashed in almost every one of them, my friend didn't, too many (1) women around! Finally we walked/hitchhiked for another four hours until we reached the car.

This last 5 days have been some of the most interesting of my entire trip so far. Beyond the amazing places that I've seen, the amount of knowledge gathered during my talks with Pongsa is only comparable to two months reading the Wikipedia. Religion, politics, history, language, nature, food, culture... only now I feel that I could understand a little bit of this country.

Interesting things that I've learnt:
  • Driving a car on the left side of the road.
  • Driving a car through a forest trail (!).
  • What I can and cannot eat in the forest.
  • Bangkok is the name of one the neighbourhoods of the capital, only the misunderstanding of foreigners made it the official English name for the whole city.
  • Farang -adjective used to describe the foreigners- stems from the French word francoix which the pioneer sailors used to address themselves on their arrival to Thailand.
  • Every Thai boy is expected to become a monk for a short period of his life (at least 3 months). However younger generations no longer accomplish with this tradition.
  • To prevent the desire of sex (worst sin ever!), Buddhist monks cannot touch or be touched by women, eat after noon or sleep on comfortable beds among other things.
  • Buddhist monks cannot kill any living being, for that reason they cannot perform any kind of farming.
  • Ideally, Buddhist monks cannot demand any special food, invest their money, or make any profit.
  • There are two main kind of Buddhist monks in Thailand: forest monks and city monks (said to be the posh ones, you know, the kind that would dress fancy loud orange tunics!)
  • The undisputed majority of the Thai society shows a tremendous respect for their monks whom they help out by giving regular donations in the form of food or money.
  • Bhumibol Adulyadej might be the first honest, useful, good king that I've ever heard of. He's actually helped his people since his was crowned at young age by supporting thousands of projects (i.e. make it rain!). Although he doesn't involve much in politics (which has earned him lots of critics), he has stopped a couple of potential civil wars. People honour him everywhere (i.e. when I went to the movies in Bangkok I had to stand up while a patriotic video of His Majesty was shown at the beginning of the movie).


Mis ultimos 5 dias han sido algunos de los mas interesantes de todo el viaje. Y todo esto gracias a Pongsa, un antiguo profesor universitario que un dia decidio dejarlo todo para meterse a monje budistas. Aunque a priori en este pais todo hombre esta llamado al retiro espiritual durante al menos 3 meses de su vida, Pongsa decidio hacerlo tras su jubilacion. Ahora el y otros 2 monjes viven en una huerta entre los campos de arroz del norte del pais. Y alli es donde me desplace hace ya una semana. Los primeros dias los pase haciendo de chofer (esta mal visto que los monjes conduzcan) con una vieja camioneta. El amigo Pongsa me guiaba con instruciones en espanol: 'DELECHA' e 'IZQUIELDA', a lo que no podia contener la risa por lo absurdo de la situacion. A las 6 y media de la manana les llevaba al pueblo a por la colecta matutina. Era impresionante ver el respeto con el que las familias salian a la puerta de casa para ofrecer algo de comida o dinero a los monjes. Luego les llevaba a desayunar a su restaurante favorito. Una ingente cantidad de comida que habria de llenar sus estomagos para el resto del dia, pues los monjes no pueden comer nada despues del mediodia. Esta limitacion, junto a la de no poder dormir en camas confortables o la de no poder tocar o ser tocado por una mujer esta orientada a evitar el pecado maximo: el sexo. Gracias a Dios (valga la redundancia) yo no tenia que subscribir dichos votos asi que aunque me pegaba buenos desayunos junto a ellos (en mesas separadas), tambien cenaba algo despues de que ellos se fueran a la cama. Tras dos dias y dos noches en la cienaga (me gustaria recalcar lo de cienaga ya que dormia entre sapos y ratas de agua con la unica proteccion de mi mosquitera), Pongsa me llevo de excursion al monte. Estuvimos andando por los montes aledanos durante dos dias durante los cuales visitamos aldeas, bosques, un palacio real y un monton de cascadas que fueron mi tabla de salvacion para calmar el calor y la humedad de la selva. Gran semana esta ultima, he aprendido mas que en dos meses leyendo la enciclopedia!

Pics'n'vids: Pongsa

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