“Almost Paradise”, a story Janet wanted to share.

After six weeks of the excitement and chaos of Chiang Mai, it was time to head north for a change of scenery and some exploration. We decided to return to Chiang Dao for a couple of days. We caught the 8:00 am local bus and were on our way.

We arrived at the small Chiang Dao bus station and quickly caught a Songtow to the place I had reserved. We held on tight to the pickup truck with bench seats in back as we drove the 6 kilometers over increasingly bumpy and remote roads. Finally, we turned down a dirt road with a sign for our place, .28 kilometers, it read.
As promised it was only about 200 meters from the Temple of 510 steps built into the side of a mountain.

And the place… all woods and birds and thatched bungalows overlooking green forest. There was a small pool sitting at the base of a mountain and an outdoor restaurant surrounded by flowering bushes and twinkle lights. The kind of place I always wondered how people found or afforded. Michael gave me that husband look which said, “Really? We’re staying here? How much is this?  It’s $25.00,” I whispered back. Heaven.

We spent the afternoon walking around the area, climbing the 510 to the famous temple, Wat Tham Pha Plang and sitting by the pool in the shadow of the towering mountain. Our lovely host asked us if we wanted to dine in their restaurant on western food or walk the 700 meters to their sister property down the road for Thai food. “Thai food!”, we said in unison. Plus I was curious to see their other property down the road. Could it possibly be any more heavenly than this?

At 6:30, showered and dressed in our only semi decent clothes, we left the bungalow ready for our walk. No sooner did we step out but turned around and headed back. It was pitch black out, with only tiny lights to illuminate the path, and the temperature had dropped by what felt like 20 degrees. I took off my sandals and flowy pants, and returned to my hiking pants, sneakers and hoodie. It was so pitch black and quiet that by the time we got to the reception area to leave, we were having second thoughts about venturing forth. I remarked to our host that perhaps we should stay and eat in the western restaurant after all. She laughed and said, “oh no, it’s a very short walk and very safe, no problems. Just take your torch”. I clicked it on.

As we started down the dirt service road to get to the main road, we giggled and squealed the way you do when both very excited and very nervous. It was blackness. Not a light save for the shadow that the torch cast. The main road was before us with 700 meters to go. We took a breath and stepped out.

Suddenly, from behind us, down our service road, a Songtow came bellowing out onto the main road. The driver looked out, “Nest 2?” she asked. We nodded. “Okay, in” she yelled. She didn’t need to ask twice. Those 700 meters flew by in the back of that truck and before we could even ask how much, she had dropped us off, waved and drove off into the darkness. “Now if we’re really lucky, the same thing will happen on our way back”, Michael quipped.

Dinner was lovely, we sat overlooking a koi pond, feasting on delectable Thai food, listening to the wind rustling through the trees. We finished dinner, played a couple of games of Rummy 500, contemplated dessert, but decided, as it was late and dark, to start the walk back and perhaps have dessert at our place when we returned.

The road back was magical, illuminated by the light of another restaurant and a small guest house a bit further down the road. There wasn’t a car or scooter or Songtow in sight. We passed a small open air bar and saw two people playing pool and Johnny Cash wafting out the windows. “Where are we?” Michael laughed. From there, it became darker. There were no more lights or sounds. “Where’s that Songtow now?” Michael queried. I suddenly sucked in my breath and whispered, “Oh my God, oh my God!” On high alert, Michael yelled, “What is it??” I pointed up to the sky. And there, under the blackest sky, stars were dripping down and enveloping us in their lights. We stood there, arms akimbo, twirling and laughing and taking it all in. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to heaven, I think.

We reached the bend in the road, a left, and then only had about 200 meters to go, In the distance we could hear roosters and the unmistakable sound of the wild dogs, howling and barking, that one hears all over South East Asia at night. Called street dogs, or soi dogs here in Thailand, most are generally pretty placid during the day, but by night they roam in packs and can be extremely intimidating and sometimes dangerous. I was terrified of them.

Thirty years ago, when I was traveling in Bali, in a village now made famous by Elizabeth Gilbert and Julia Roberts, an older Balinese man I met asked me how I was enjoying Bali. “Oh, I love it here!”, I exclaimed, “if only there were no wild dogs roaming around, it would be paradise”. He chuckled at me. “There can only be paradise in heaven”, he smiled, “and so, we have the dogs”.

I remembered this as we walked, our dirt road turnoff not too far ahead, when out of the darkness two dogs appeared, growling and barking at us. I froze. I felt panicked. We sank back into the trees out of their line of vision. My thoughts raced. Should we keep walking? Should we turn around and head back to the restaurant and see if someone could drive us or find us a Songtow? That walk back seemed very far now. “They know we’re afraid of them now”, Michael stated. “They’re right”, I confirmed. I’m not sure how long we stood there.

Then a sound behind us. A lone scooter on this dark road. It stopped next to us and an old Thai man lifted off his helmet. I’m not sure he spoke English and I can’t imagine where he was going as we were the last property on the road before the temple, but there he was. I blathered on about the dogs and the growling and asked if he would drive slowly around them as we walked next to him in an attempt to avoid them. I guess he understood. But the thing is, somewhere in the midst of it all, as we were walking quickly to our turn off with him by our side, he and the dogs just disappeared. We got to the dirt road and turned but he was gone, no sound of the scooter, or the dogs. Just quiet. As if he appeared and then disappeared solely for us.

Breathing rapidly, we reached our place. A few people remained at the restaurant, the lights were still twinkling, there was the sound of an owl in the distance. A pot of hot tea was placed before us. If we looked just right between the tree branches we could still make out the stars. We gripped hands tightly. It was still paradise. Well, almost.

Epilogue:

Even in the midst of walking through paradise, unexpected and/or unwanted things can jump out at you. But if you keep your calm, and not let it derail you, you can be back on your path quicker than a wingman on a motor scooter.

To Your Paradise,
Michael