No visit to Chiang Mai would be complete without a cheesy day tour to the Golden Triangle with various stops along the way including a visit to a ‘long neck’ village. Well, actually you’d be better off passing on this excursion but I was visiting with Noom, my bar boy friend from Bangkok, and it was the cheapest and easiest way to get to the Mekong, a grand desire and Significant Event in his life. We had to get up a 6 am for the tour bus and rushed breakfast (sorry but I just do not function without at least one cup of coffee in me). The nine passenger sized van arrived on time (figures the only time a Thai would be on time is when you don’t want them to be) and we were only half way through breakfast.

“Two minutes,” I lied while the guide, driver and previously picked up passengers waited for us to finish. And have a smoke. Figured the guide and driver were getting paid regardless, and it turned out the previously picked up passengers were a young Russian couple . . . their country’s not even a superpower any more so fuck ‘em. (Yep, even with one cup of coffee in me I’m still a bit surly in the morning).

We drove through Chiang Mai picking up an additional three passengers: a middle aged French guy who spoke little English and looked befuddled throughout the trip and a pair of Germans guys who I’d normally detest on sight. But one was of Arabic origin so I cut his buddy some slack giving him anti-Nazi points for having a nonwhite friend. Plus, the Arabian guy was kinda cute. Our guide for the day was Ben, a cute little Thai lesbian. The ‘Ben’ nickname was enough of a tip off, didn’t even need to use my gaydar to figure that one out. But Noom confirmed the fact after chatting with her in Thai as we headed out of town. (And then proudly announced the fact to our bus load . . . but I think between their lack of English skills and his heavy accent they missed his proclamation).

First stop: the Wonderful Hot Springs! An hour away. Noom, dressed in his ‘Chiang Mai’ outfit – bright yellow fisherman pants and a white Chinese style cotton shirt – promptly spread out on the seat with his head on my lap and my arm pulled down over his chest for a nap. The Russian guy kept sneaking a look back over his shoulder at us. I smiled sweetly at his first look and wiggled my eyebrows at him the second time which set him off whispering away at his girlfriend. I don’t speak Russian, but I think her reply was basically, “Grow up.”

So here’s a tip. If you take one of these tours you will stop at the hot springs. You have no choice. It’s a small geyser surrounded by souvenir stands. Thousands of them. The stop is 20 minutes long. Grab a coffee, walk back out to the road (which will cause your tour guide great concern) and head about a quarter of a mile up the road. There is a fantastic old wat built in the Cambodian style there which is far more interesting than the geyser or the souvenir stands. Noom and I did and holding true to form made our fellow passengers wait and extra five minutes for our return.

Stop # 2: The White Wat. This one is about 90 minutes further down the road. And Noom went back into sleep mode, using me for both his bed and comfort blanket. You get a half hour for this stop which is no where near enough time. I’d seen a few pixs on the internet of the temple but was totally unprepared for how magnificent it would really be. It was designed and built by a famous Thai artist (Chaloemchai Khositphiphat) and is like no other wat you’ve ever seen. Think a Dali version of Dante’s Inferno brought to life and you’ll come close. The entrance bridge hovers over pits of concrete hands reaching in supplication toward the heavens, many holding skulls (the finials on the surrounding fence are skeleton heads, too). The entire edifice is pure white; sharp angles; angry gods, demons, and serpents; spears; and more skulls all surrounded by a moat of crystalline water with numerous fountains spraying water into the air. Keanu Reeves in Matrix attire even works his way into a mural inside the temple. The large, equally Daliesque gold building off to the right of the wat turns out to be a rest room – I have no idea what drugs the guy who designed this place was on, but I want some!

There was an angry little Thai man near the entrance bridge yelling in Thai at the visitors over a megaphone. Noom told me he was telling people to quite cutting in line and also telling those who were holding up the line to take pictures of themselves to get their ass in gear. What he didn’t tell me until later (and which we failed to inform our fellow passengers about until we were back on the road) was that this guy was the artist who designed and built the place. After we’d toured the temple Noom headed for the souvenir stand much to my dismay (he really has bad taste and is always trying to buy me some cheap piece of crap I have no use for). But he settled on 2 rather nice post cards of the artist’s paintings for 5 baht a piece and then promptly headed back to that angry little man – who he now explained was the artist – and had him sign the cards. Which he did quite graciously and with a smile on his face.

Even if you forgo the Golden Triangle tour – go visit the White Temple just outside of Chiang Rai. It’s quite fantastic and worth the trip. And get an incredible souvenir for 5 baht . . . just don’t tell the other farang who that angry little man really is.

Because I am a strong believer in tradition, we made our fellow passengers wait yet again for us to get back to the van. The French guy decided to join Noom and me on the back seat to avoid the sun pouring through the van’s windows for our next 90 minute ride to the Golden Triangle. Noom, true to form, nestled up under my arm, wrapped his around my waist and went back to sleep. Frenchy might not have spoke much English but that he understood and abandoned his new seat at the first opportunity. Straight folk are so much fun to unnerve!

So we finally arrived at the Golden Triangle and all boarded a long tail boat for a ride up to the Burma side (to see the casino) then back toward the Laos side (to see where the new casino was being built) before heading across to touch down on Laos land – a small encampment comprising, yep, you guessed it, souvenir stands. Our guide for this part of the trip was a pleasant Thai ladyboy who took to Noom & I as soon as Noom divulged we were all family (considering himself an honorary member). So the Golden Triangle was quite pink. When we moored at the Laos jetty, Noom immediately sat down and put his feet in the water. Then doused his head with water three times – this confused our fellow passengers who were being herded up the wooden walk way to the souvenir stands. They kept looking back trying to figure out what was going on. After missing out on meeting the artist at the white wat on our last stop, they were feeling that perhaps Noom & I were getting a different, and much better, tour than they were, Anyway, Noom was ecstatic. Ben was happy to spend sometime with her new gay friends (she wants me to find her an American girlfriend) and the ladyboy sat with us preferring family time to tourist time. Noom brought along a few empty water bottles to fill with Mekong water as gifts for his family so the three of us helped him fill them.

Mission accomplished we headed up to the ‘village’ with Ben laughingly admonishing us that we had only 20 minutes and would have to swim back if we were late. Noom bought a bottle of Laos whiskey with a snake in it for one of his brothers. I suspiciously eyed the $3 cartons of Marlboros deciding to pass (hey, even us smokers have limits to what we’ll inhale) and we made it back to the boat with time to spare. A quick boat ride back to Thailand, fifteen minutes by van to a forgettable buffet lunch (yep, Noom and I were late getting in the van again) and then another ten minutes to Mae Sai and the Burma border.

I’d hoped to pick up some Burmese Jade at cheap prices to smuggle back into the U.S. (Bush banned jade from Myanmar last year when their government was killing off monks) but the prices being offered were higher than I could get in Bangkok. Ben decided she needed a break so put Noom in charge of leading our gang of touri over to the northernmost point of Thailand (uh, that would be the border) which he quite enjoyed. Of course he immediately got lost as he led his pack through a winding maze of kitchy souvenir stands. And of course they happily followed him assuming he knew much more than they did (wrong). This was a half hour stop and we were quickly burning up time getting no where so I pointed in the general direction of north, told the group it was ‘just up that way’ and grabbed Noom to head off in the other direction abandoning them to their fate.

So Noom and I just cruised around the border town checking out the locals waiting to cross. You can cross over too, I think for $30, but the Burma side is the same as the Thai side, so why bother? Besides, we’d just finished a fake entry into Laos, we didn’t really need to follow up with a fake entry into Burma. He bought some vegetables for his Dad (don’t ask). And we got back to the van before the rest of our group for a change, much to suspicious looks from them and a disappointed look from me (I’d hoped we’d ditched the lot of them and could head back to Chiang Mai rather than make our next stop: the infamous Long Neck Village).

This part of the trip I was dreading. I’d visited a hill tribe ‘village’ before. They are a small enclave of huts built as souvenir stands. Too cheesy to imagine. If you get a chance – pass! But our visit wasn’t as bad as I expected because Noom, being the gregarious guy he is, happily chatted up the ethnic folk, picking out the cutest girls to have his picture taken with. He also bought a small statue of a long neck woman which was broken by the time we got back to the hotel. He threw it away saying, “No problem, can buy same in Patpong”. Thais are such sentimental folk.

Three and a half hours later we were back at the hotel. Ben and I exchanged email addresses so I can find her an American girlfriend. Noom carefully wrapped his precious bottles of Mekong River water and packed them away. The next day it was back to Noom’s choice of activities. So far on the schedule:  sleeping late.

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