It seems as though I lost my newsy post about wild dogs and Bob's (two) near death experiences when the computer logged out, but I will post a little now.

We are just back from the most fascinating two days spent in the hills to the north west (to be confirmed by garmin) of Chiang Rai in the far north of Thailand.

Although an expense, Bob and I had our own guide, Kaochiang, from the PDA, a population and development centre in Chiang Rai which aims to assist the hill tribes through economic autonomy while maintaining their culture.


with a driver, we first visited a number of villages of the Yao, Akha and Lahu people. Many do not have Thai citizenship and still live a genuinely traditional life. Our guide Kaochiang, having studied Aquaculture in Launceston was from the Yao tribe and it put things very much in perspective. He had a great deal of difficultly in getting an identity card and passport, despite have been fourth or fifth generation Thai. We shared lunch at a village behind the ride of our life - an elephant (small, Asian) over the mountain pass including a trail that must have been 35% in some places! With our backpacks on the back, it was exciting and great fun! The old girl enjoyed stopping for snacks of bamboo and banana at most opportunities, and especially to hose herself with water when walking up stream.

After Bob had a dip in a waterfall, we trekked up to the Red Lahu village where we were to spend the night in a woman's traditional hut. Bob and I were as pleased by the chooks, pigs and dogs wandering around the village, as the young boys practiced shooting their homemade bows and arrows at targets on trees, and life continued as it had for centuries.

Together we prepared dinner, of a Thai (tinned tuna) salad with (too few for the Lahu) green chilli, fish sauce (Nam Pla), onion, coriander and Chinese celery. Then a dish described as sweet and sour, although worlds away from the bad memories of my childhood of sodden fried balls in a gelatinous sweet muck. Some fresh pineapple, Onion, (pretend there is garlic), Thai (holy) basil, finely sliced pork, cauliflower, soy sauce, "tomato sauce" (not as we know it, chilli . . . Good. Another dish of pork with fresh peppercorns, whole chilli, and eggplant the size of a fingernail. A clear soup with a vegetable similar to what I know as Chinese broccoli, and and another dish that has temporary escaped me!



The women's two nieces, visiting from another village for the holiday joined us in our feast, and later gave us massages. Bob fell asleep during this, but I slept soundly on our beds made under a diaphanous blue mosquito net with thin pads covering the floor of split bamboo over open bamboo poles. The pigs and chickens grunted and clucked and slept below, and it was a surreal experience lying there in the room without windows (to keep the spirits out), however with light clearly coming through the slats, horizontal on one wall, vertical on another. The evening sounds of village life pervaded everything, and music wafted over from a far off valley.

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For information look at www.hilltribe.org

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Here they are are preparing our breakfast in the morning as the sun shines in through the slats. It is amazing that all the cooking is done on this surface.



The next morning after a breakfast of noodles and egg, we were joined by another guide or porter from the village who showed us the way over the mountain. Kaochiang spoke Yao, his native tongue, Thai, English, Lahu, Chinese, Yunnanese, and a couple of other languages ' not very well'. Our local guide only spoke his hill tribe language, but was very gracious and gentle, walking the entire way in his languid easiness in plastic flip flops.

We climbed a couple of good hills, covering about 10km over terrain that John Harding and the rest of the Mountain Running Community in Australia would die for. Made the Mt Majura course last year look like a pimple!




This doesn't do it justice, it is 'just' a rare flat view of the bamboo forest on a flat saddle. Note the nifty bamboo cow grid on the route.