Back from Chiang Mai

We are finally back from Chiang Mai. It was a most exhausting but interesting trip.

Though I had been to Chiang Mai 6 years ago, this trip was a totally different experience. For one, I was travelling with two other adults and my little one (who unfortunately came down with fever and diarrhea the last two days of the trip). While the last trip was a leisurely D-I-Y, pseudo back-packing one (pseudo cos I had bags and bags of shopping every time I returned to my accommodation. I even had the assistant from the Thai Silk factory come to my room for me to fit the Thai silk ensemble that I ordered!), this one has been a whirl-wind of a holiday, with us trudging to the coach as early as 645 am one morning and only returning close to 12 midnight. So many things happened so fast that there was not time and space to really breathe, much less to think. Perhaps that is what I really needed: to not think; to give my overworked brain a much deserved break. Let someone else do the planning, the talking, the thinking.

Sit back, relax and breathe...
Helps that Chiang Mai is relatively free from pollution and our tour guide is really friendly and funny.

But why then did I feel this nagging strange-ness nibbling away at me, almost undetectable but definitely unsettling, every single hectic day?

Perhaps what I really needed was more sleep and not days of chasing one tourist attraction after another.

Or perhaps I needed to be alone. I mean all by myself. Alone. No friends. No little one.

I never got to answer the question as I was too busy doing what the good tourist does: eating, shopping, take photos, eating, shopping, take some more photos... Don't get me wrong! These touristy things are pleasurable! Shopping is good and cheap (not by Thai standards though), food was Halal and very yummy and the photos we took were nice. My two other travel mates were also really cool and helpful.

Maybe I don't know a good experience when I meet one.

Nevertheless, I played the role of your regular, well-behaved tourist for the most part of the trip, boarding the coach on time (with only one exception), visiting every factory and being cordial towards other tourist in the group of 31. Then on day four, the little one developed a bad stomach and felt feverish. He slept a lot and I ended up skipping the tourist attractions lined up for the day.

That night back at the hotel, he was convinced as usual, being extremely distrustful of doctors and medicines, to take lots of fluids and none of the rich and sweet foods he so loves. Another incentive for him to get well was the lure of the hotel pool which he had eyed since day one but had no time to enjoy. So he rested and probably willed himself well. Thank god for the free-and-easy day five! No longer obligated to hurry from the bed to the coach and trapped within its confines, we were able to enjoy a leisurely breakfast and a dip with many splashes in the blue of the pool despite the still rumbling tummy.

At this point in time, I don't know where I'm heading with this. I suppose I'm thinking out loud, figuring things out.

Sorry if I had somehow led you to expect a neat conclusion, or maybe even revelation. Sorry for the cop-out way this has to end for I think my brain must cease to function for the day.

A very good morning to you too.