…I woke up, 3 weeks later, in Chiang Mai. It was almost like being home. Normalcy. No place to get to, nothing pressing to do. Just…be. It is the longest that I have spent in any one place since I left Colorado and  began my tour in Africa back in May 2016. Wow…May 2016.  It didn’t sink in until I wrote that.  After cycling through the Indian and Nepali

Himalayas from September to March, I arrived in Thailand, ambitiously embarking on a 600 km route through the northern mountains. Five hundred paralyzing kilometers in, my plan was abruptly denounced and efforts thwarted. The roads were too steep. The air was too hot. But mostly, I was tired. Physically and mentally. My bike was making noises that soon exceeded those emanating from my body. Noises that could no longer be oiled or ignored. The wheels were falling off, literally. The rear wheel on my bike broke and was no longer functioning. Dejectedly, I limped back to Chiang Mai for a much-needed mind, body, and bike reset. Full stop.

Chiang Mai is an amazing city, overflowing with ancient Buddhist Temples (Wats) dating back to when the city was originally founded in 1296. There are over 200 in and around Chiang Mai, built by successive kings intent on leaving an enduring icon. The intricate carving and stunning hand painted murals inside them are treasures. Beyond that however, my initial impressions of Chiang Mai were that it was a nice place to pass through for a few days but it is far too touristy for my liking…and it is, when you’re living like a tourist. Delicious food and fancy guest houses line the streets of the Old City. Everything is available here. For a few days, it was all that I needed as I gorged myself on $0.80 fresh fruit shakes.  Every meal included mango in some form.

My intentions for each place that I visit are to fit in, as much as possible…or at least try to not stick out. To not be a tourist, when clearly I am. Learn some of the local language. Eat at local markets. Sleep at local hotels. Think and act locally…a daunting challenge in a touristy place like Chiang Mai. But people do actually live here and if I was going to spend any more than 4 days here, something needed to change. And then I met Elizabeth. Elizabeth is a teacher at an environmentally focused, Buddhist based international school in Chiang Mai. She is from Chicago, lived for a spell in Boulder, and has called Chiang Mai home for over 5 years. And like that, I was introduced to those people…the people that actually live here, and I quickly found out why.

The Thai people are beautiful, warm, and kind. Always with a beaming smile, hands pressed together in prayer greeting, “Sawadee kah”. The food is spectacular. The culture and traditions are rich. These were my immediate impressions in the touristy areas. But getting away from there and into the authentic Thailand is where the true magic and specter engulfed me. Everything is exponentially better, brighter, fuller.  When I awoke, three weeks had passed.

One day, I stumbled into a local bike shop. The owner used to live in South Boulder, not far from my home. His name is Stu. He’s a tall, lanky fella in his late 50’s. Stu helped rebuild my bicycle to a pre-Himalayan cycle tour state, complete with a new aforementioned rear wheel, tires, chain, and brakes. And like that, 6,000 abusive kilometers were were stripped away and vanquished. My bike was now ready for the next chapter, but I was far from motivated to leave this intoxicating place that I was slowly calling home.

There are local markets all over the city, every day selling fruits, vegetables, flowers, prepared food, clothes, lamps, candles, soaps, and really just about anything…but I was hooked on the veggies. The basic rule to avoid getting sick when traveling is never eat anything that cannot be peeled or cooked. Fresh vegetables are enemy #1 on that list.  In Chiang Mai, this rule does not apply. Honestly, any vegetable not sautéed in used vegetable oil was something I had dreamed about since leaving Colorado. On Sunday, I found someone selling fresh beet juice. Fresh, as in…I’m watching them grab a handful of beets from a bin and drop them into a blender.  I drank so much beet, carrot, and ginger juice that day that I stained my teeth and was peeing a nice crimson color for 2 days.  It was totally worth it.

“You used all the cold water!” I shouted down the hall to Elizabeth, as a gecko scurried up the bathroom wall. She laughed in a distant, sinister way. This is the hottest time of the year in Chiang Mai. Many days it is over 90F inside, and sometimes surpassing 100F.  The floors are hot.  The walls are hot.  The water that sits in the pipes in the ground…is hot.   It is not uncommon to take 3 showers per day, simply to cool off. That first burst of cold water is something to be cherished.

On Friday, I visited Elizabeth’s school. The students were putting on the Dr. Seuss play, “Horton Hears a Who.” The venue is an expansive open air, newly built bamboo auditorium with a curved roof line and archways. Since it is an international school, the children are from around the world. Their smiles and excitement were intoxicating to everyone in the audience. The potpourri of nationalities made for a truly amazing and diverse performance.

In the evenings, we zoom our bicycles down the Soi (smaller local alley ways), in search of the best local and authentic street food, something Elizabeth and her friends are very adept at. The food is prepared on portable food carts that show up around 6pm daily.  None of the menu is in english, the people don’t speak english,  and only a few carts have pictures of food.  The local guide is critical.  Otherwise, I might have ended up with a dish consisting of random meat parts.

Last Thursday, I went to the dentist for a cleaning. It had been nearly 8 months and I was due. During my cleaning, the dentist pointed out that I had a cracked upper molar, something I had avoided addressing for the better part of 5 years. She told me that she could apply a crown for about $400. Along with my cleaning and replacement of a filling, the total bill was $440. In the US, I would have paid nearly $1500.  Thailand keeps winning.

Further, cars don’t honk, unlike in India where blaring horns are the standard. In fact they actually stop as you’re crossing the road or intersection even if its their right of way. It’s completely nonsensical, but I love it. Two dollar foot massage and $6 body massages are the norm. There is also a jazz club with IPA beer on tap. A “Rocky” gym is nearby with homemade weights and machines (all that is missing is a side of beef to punch).  In addition there is a grocery store selling chocolate peanut butter, which is beyond decadent.  My swiss and Czech friends arrived this week, after slogging through Myanmar for 28 days. It has been great to see old friends and watch them absolutely lose their minds with the Thai food and comforts, exactly the same way I did and continue to do every day.  However, I’m very happy that I skipped Myanmar and instead spent that time here. Three weeks have gone by in a blur. The voice in the back of my head, in between fresh fruit shakes, is telling me that I’m getting too comfortable here.

What’s next? I had planned to be back in Boulder in December but it seems that didn’t happen.  I tried again in February, but missed that flight too.  Since then, doors keep opening. Each one that did, I stepped through. I have learned to always say yes, and when you do, when you go with an open mind and open heart, amazing happens.  Yesterday, I got a 90 day visa for China.   So, the story continues…

As Tupac said, “Picture me rollin…”