One week in Chang Mai.

We arrive at the Top North Guest House in Chiang Mai after an exciting ride from the roundabout at Mae Sot (see story: Why Pai? pronounced Pie). We are greeted with a choice of rooms and a choice of ‘origami good luck paper birds’. We choose a blue one (bluebird of happiness, etc) and an orange one ( my 2nd favourite colour). For 450 baht we get two double beds and a bathroom. All the luggage is dumped on the one bed, no more bending down and grovelling on the floor to dig stuff out of the panniers. A good sleep and we are ready to ride around Chiang Mai before free beer o’clock with Horizons Unlimited mini-meet at 18h00. The Engine mounting bracket for the front panniers is a bit wide and B feels that the engine is therefore loose in its bolts. We find a kerbside engineering shop that willingly cut the bracket in half. Now the bolts could be tightened tightly and the engine mounting was secured. We had experienced some ‘bumping through’ on the mountain passes from Mae Sot to Chiang Mai and B wanted to replace the standard shock absorbers with YSS gas competition shocks. We rode around some more, found just the right ones and had them fitted for about 85 euros; we have subsequently found out the same shocks in the Netherlands sell for 750 euros.
Chiang Mai is a very ancient city surrounded by crumbling red brick walls that are 3 metres wide at the base. The actual bricks are very flat and thin. And then there is a very wide moat filled with fish and fountains. Each side of the square is about 2 kms, with ancient gates at the half way point. Inside the square all the traffic goes anti-clockwise and outside the moat, clockwise. It is chaotic. Getting out usually involves driving past one gate to do a U-turn at the next gate to get out into the bigger modern city, and those who want to get in are doing the same thing . There are tuk-tuks, bicycles, lost looking tourists, cars, trucks, delivery trolleys, pickups and dogs. By the time we get to HU it’s raining. We wander in to Riders bar and restaurant and are warmly welcomed by the host and MC to settle in for an evening of introductions, story swopping and motorbike chat. It’s wonderful. I slipped off to the loo via the reception and whispered about B’s birthday and getting a cake for the Saturday night event. No problem.
We explore some more and go to Big C supermarket for lunch in their clean and delicious food hall.
As the guest house has a swimming pool we look for a full bathing suit for me, perhaps my bikini is not that suitable. They only have the full body suits for swimming. I’ll stick with the bikini.
On B’s birthday morning we find the less touristy market out of town by the big Narawat bridge. We take note of where we have parked our bike under a red footbridge alongside lots more bikes and then disappear into the maze of stalls and alleys. It is fascinating; clothing in an abundance of sizes and colours. Bright yellow gold jewellery in exotic designs. And then I spot the best of all: a fabric shop where great rolls of intricately woven brightly stripped heavy cotton-thread are standing in columns just waiting to be bought. We have a 35year old 4-seater couch and 2 armchairs at home, recovered many times, and ready to be re-covered again. At 60b (2euros) a metre I can visualize each cushion and backrest in a different stripe of pattern and colour. Sadly we walk away, not this visit. Measure first and plan it for next time.
The HU mini-meeting is great. The BBQ is magnificent, so many lovely salads and vegetables and not a bowl of rice in sight. We carry on meeting and chatting and listening to super-informative presentations by other adventure motorcycle travellers who have done Round-the-World expeditions. The organiser, an American Indian, Doctor of Economics, with a few Travel books to his name, was setting off on his 5th RTW trip, starting in Namibia.  We chat to the MC, an ex-dispatch rider from London, who now lives between Boonville, USA and Bangkok.
We have something in common, we both own Tigers. His being the scooter, ours being a more of an offroad version. We meet an American military man who has an original moto-mule trailer. We shared photos of our Ruffec made model, which had been inspired by the moto-mule. And then B was presented with his birthday cake. He was very pleasantly surprised and for a non-speech maker, made a lovely speech. I cut it into bite size pieces and everybody got a taste. It was a grand evening. The guest house was on the other side of the square but we wiggled our way through the middle and got home safely.
Somebody had mentioned that a worthwhile place to visit was a temple at the top of the nearby mountain; hoping the rain would stop so we could ride up there, Sunday dawned with not a cloud in the sky. Yeah. The 30kms trip up to Doi Suthep was curvy and winding and very steep, but not being weighed down by luggage the new bike cruised up, no problem. There are people everywhere, it’s Sunday , and all the families are enjoying a day off in the sunshine. We struggle to find anywhere to park the bike until a policeman nods that it is OK to park on the yellow line; we hope so too. And then we start climbing steps, hundreds of them, following the masses  and the ceramic tiles of a green dragon. At the top we take of our shoes and enter the sacred place. People are wondering around the golden tomb in the middle carrying bright yellow giant dahlia looking flowers. Some people were praying and holding candles. Some people were just taking selfies. We followed the throng , without flowers and candles, and stopped to inspect the beautiful hand painted friezes on the surrounding walls. B treated me to a Thai silver Dragon ring for good luck.
We emerged from the sacred place and wandered outside to cast our eyes over the view of Chiang Mai city below and the incredible mountains to the West. A few photos later and we trudged down the Dragon steps, bumping into breathless people coming up. We carried on riding around the mountain, but our map confirmed there was no through-route, so we turned around and headed back to Top north Guest House. We had been told about ‘walking street ‘market on Sunday nights, so ventured out with walking stick in hand. We walked ½ kms to the next gate and joined the heaving crowds, all shopping and eating and buzzing and handling local foods and crafts. The congestion of people became gridlocked, so we squeezed our way out and sauntered home on a beautiful warm starry night. 
We are in luck, Monday and the sun is still shining. After breakfast of rice and vegetable soup at a local Chinese stall for 70  baht (2 euros) we decide to go to the Breeding centre for the Giant Pandas and other animals. We don’t do Zoos, but had read about these programs where china ‘gifts’ the Pandas for breeding purposes and knew that Chiang Mai was one of the centres. The complex was so vast we succumbed to buying a ticket for the openaired safari-type shuttle bus employing a hop on/hop off system . First stop the Pandas. Not too crowded and we had to leave water and any edibles at reception after walking over a disinfectant mat. Looking cute and cuddly the pandas stared at us staring at them. We asked about feeding time and negotiated that we could come back on the same ticket in an hour’s time. So for an hour we strolled around capturing amazing close-ups with my superzoom Sony. On hearing our South African accents a handsome young man from the UK joined us to ask about Namibia. He had finished his studies, was starting his first job in March, and his Dad was taking him on a trip of a lifetime to Namibia in a few week’s time, before the 9 to 5 life. We spent a lovely hour chatting, looking at tigers and crested cranes and the wild dangerous oversize tabby called a ‘fishing cat’. Back to the Pandas where they entertained us by eating their lunch; We loved the pandas and the bizarre poses as people ducked and manouvered to get selfies that also included the pandas. The shuttle bus drove around some more and we hop off at the orangutans. They were not playing today. We’d seen what we came for, the pandas.  Taking full advantage of the hot sunny day we went for a refreshing swim at the guest house and keeping within the budget had brown bread, nutella, peanut butter and banana sandwiches for supper. The weather forecast promised very heavy rain for the next few days. As fellow Tiger owners we had been given a signed copy of  his RTW adventure motorcycle travel book “Ashes to Boonville” by Blue88, handle for the ex-dispatch rider, so what better thing to do than read a good book on a rainy few days.
B decides he’s got something better to do than read on a rainy few days. He’s not happy with the low handle bars. He’s tested them for 2 weeks and about 1000kms and has devised a plan to get them raised. Through various contacts at Riders Bar and restaurant, we have been told about an engineering shop that could fabricate any part for a motorbike. The idea was to get someone to machine up 2 fork extensions to raise the clip-on bars. For about 40 euros, 2 Aluminium handlebar fork extenders were machined up to raise the clip-on handle bars. This raised the bars sufficiently so that B can now ride in a touring seating position.
We have an extra set of shock absorbers now and a spare book which are heavy and cannot go on the bike. We find a post office and marvel at it’s efficiency; As you enter the first desk is a packing service function where all parcels are measured for size, bubble wrapped and put in the correct size box. Next stop, take a ticket and wait a short while, then the now beautifully wrapped parcel is weighed and stamped. We show our passports and the package is posted to our family in Khon Kaen.  It will take a week. All for under 5 euros. Marvellous. I think again about getting 50 metres of fabric to France. On a previous trip we had posted canvas rolls, paintings and oil paints in a very large box by sea. I could do it again, but not this time.
It’s our last night in Chiang Mai. We’ve been waiting for the weather to clear. The rain is torrential. There’s a lot of other residents getting cabin fever and our neighbours are decidedly noisy; The music is getting louder and louder; it’s passed midnight. B shouts politely above the noise, “Please be quiet”; The response is an expletive telling him to go away. Shortly after a guy marches down the corridor in his jocks and gives their door an almighty kick. Instant silence. Ah, so that’s how it’s done.
At last, Thursday, the clouds go away and the sun starts shining. After rice and pork soup for breakfast, a quick tour of the local History centre to learn a bit more about Chiang Mai we set Google maps to go to Pai, pronounced pie. It’s Friday 13th, wearing my large shiny silver lucky Dragon ring and tucking the lucky origami birds safely in my trouser pocket, we wave Good bye to Chiang Mai and wish ourselves Good luck.