The Drunken Traveler by Devin Keith Nerison - HTML preview

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Page 36

I SPENT m

y last night going out to dinner at a nice Thai restaurant in Nahkon Sawan with some friends. The people who ran the rehab facility and a Thai couple that lived next door. Nam, the wife would help out at the rehab and her husband who became my fishing partner. That day we had spent several hours at a fishing park outside of Nahkon Sawan. I landed fifteen fish between 5-7 kilograms each. It was a successful fishing day.

The restaurant had a live band that played both Thai and English songs. The singers were quite impressive. The male vocalist sound like a cross between Seal and Uncle Cracker. We asked him to sing some Rod Stewart and Eagles tunes that he did very wel at, and the female vocalist sang some popular Six Pense and Celine Dion that was pretty good.

Some real talent in that little town. The food was good and everyone but me had beer. Drinking club soda al night didn’t bother me at al . Especial y when most people in the restaurant were having to get up every five minutes to use the restroom. I got to sit in one place and see what the rest of the people were doing through sober eyes. It was quite enjoyable.

The next day, and I was back in Nakhon Sawan waiting for my bus to transport me to Chiang Mai and then to Myanmar the next morning to obtain a visa. I was surprised the bus was only forty minutes late. I got in the bus on the upper deck and got into my comfortable seat to travel to Chiang Mai for six or so hours. It took something getting used to riding a bus or a train without alcohol to enhance the ride. It gives you a lot of time to do other things than doing hand to mouth arm curls with a can and running to the bathroom when you had to. I did like it though and kept my mind focused on the positive side. After al these years I knew there weren’t a lot of positive things about drinking, although I stil did it.

I could tel we were heading up north after a few hours and on a mild incline that would soon grow steeper. The trees had changed from palm and banana to larger trees. It was different from what I was used to in mid and southern Thailand but welcoming in its own way. As I watched the miles go by I saw patches of palms then they would disappear as if someone missed them and planted a patch for their own comfort. I would have to say the palm is my favorite tree.

It is a beautiful tree that gives you a feeling of the tropics and adventure. It is beautiful as the sun rises and beautiful al day until it sets. And there is nothing that compares to a palm against a sunset of orange sky. Top it al off with a ful moon next to it. Nothing is more romantic or beautiful in nature.

The palm most likely has more uses than any other tree. It bears fruit the coconut which you can eat and the water within is very healthy and satisfies the thirst especial y when you are a cast away on a deserted island. The wood is used for building, the leaves are used to roof huts, and the new sprouts can be used as food in some variety. If I ever build a house in the countryside in the tropics it wil be surrounded with every variety of palm tree I could find.

We were climbing steeper now up into the mountains and I could hear the engine working harder to keep the pace. A river would skirt us on a bend then snake away in to the distance cutting through the mountains. When it seemed we were getting close with the signs of a town starting to sprawl in front of us it would slowly dwindle away in the distance as we went into more rural territory. About 70 kilometers later we pul ed into the Chiang Mai bus station. A tuk-tuk taxi later and I was at my destined guest house.

Page 37

The room was on the lower end of average but it was in close proximity to just about everything. A night market was next door and ethnic restaurants of many kinds dotted the half-kilometer radius of where I was staying.The next morning, I left to make a visa run to Myanmar. It was a four-hour mini-bus ride to Maesai, a smal border town on each side; Thailand and Myanmar. It looked your average Thai town but greatly lacked any restaurants, both walk-in and roadside of any quality. After I crossed the bridge and got my visa stamp I crossed back into Thailand and looked for a quick place to eat. To get the visa we were given one hour and I only had twenty minutes left. After searching for something that was edible and not deep-fried, I found a roadside vendor sel ing a noodle soup with pork and some vegetables in it. It was not very good and over-priced.

It rained off and on while I was in Chiang Mai so I spent a lot of time indoors watching DVD’s and going out when it was clear and to eat. The outings I had planned to do slipped away with the rain. I wanted to go on a jungle tour cal ed “Flight of the Gibbons.” You cruised around the jungle on a zip-wire forty or so meters above the ground I was told. I get queasy climbing up a ladder so the idea was going to be a chal enge. Wil the line break? Has anybody ever fel off? Those questions went through my head. But with the weather the way it was it became less of a concern. Zipping along the jungle at forty meters in a downpour did not sound so good.

After four days I caught the afternoon train to Bangkok. Long ride, leaves at 4:30pm and terminates in Bangkok at 6:40am. My car was a rather decent one and quite comfortable. I had ridden Thai trains a dozen times, but never while sober. It was going to be a chal enge for me not drinking on the train. I was committed not to, and I knew I wouldn’t, but I found that it was a trigger as the girl comes by with her bucket of ice brimming with bottles of beer and another basket with whiskey in it.

I got up to find the food car and on the way this waiter thrust a fruit plate at me and smiled. Knowing I was not in the first class cabin I wondered what this was for. He was smiling so I figured it was something complimentary, even on a Thai railway train.

“Sixty baht,” he smiled again.

“No thanks, looking for some dinner.” “Food car two cars up.”

It was more like four but I found it. A few Thais and two Europeans were in there. I sat down in the rear of the car with the European facing me. He had a couple of day’s growth of whiskers, a pair of sunglasses on his head, and a loud Hawai an shirt on. Obviously reruns of Magnum PI and Miami Vice were airing in his country. A waiter came over and set a menu down in front of me.

Page 38

I selected sweet and sour chicken and a soda water. A soda water because it is the closest thing to beer with al the bubbles. Not real y counting but I think that was my fifth one today. The food came and I was quite amazed at the turnaround of cuisine here. It was four plates. One had sweet and sour chicken with lots of vegetables, another bowl of Penang chicken, a plate of sliced pineapple, and a bowl of cabbage soup with other vegetables and pork in it. I was truly amazed, especial y when it tasted good. I actual y ate it al and didn’t leave half of it sitting with a frown on my face. For railway food I was impressed.