Travel Log – Chapter 4: The Great North
The first morning after I arrived in Chiang Mai, I would not just get to know the Thai kitchen. I’d be cooking the meal myself.
The beauty of cooking classes!
A bus would pick us up and take us to the cooking class. My friend Sara, whom I’ve met three days before in Bangkok, booked the class for us. That’s why I expected to take the class with her.
The bus slowly filled up. Every seat was slowly being occupied. No Sara in sight. There were two possibilities: either Sara overslept, or I’m on the wrong bus.
Turns out, both of them weren’t the case. There were two busses, and Sara and I met up at the venue.
We met some lovely people and the class was fun, but I wouldn’t call it a cooking class. It was more a case of “finish the meal”: everything was prepared, we just had to throw it in the pan. The equivalent of putting in the last screw of a furniture you didn’t build yourself. I also defined the Thai fashion world for years to come:
After the pride subsided from the meal I didn’t cook, we went back to the hostel.
A day of adventure had only begun. In the afternoon, we headed out to the “Sticky Waterfalls”. “Sticky” because the ground has enough grip that you can walk up the stone through flowing water.
A better name would’ve been “kind of sticky”, which a lot of people found out the hard way: some spots where the water didn’t have a strong flow were covered with moss. Slippery moss. This led to some people screaming and falling, kissing the ground involuntarily. As long as no0 one gets hurt, there’s just something about people falling that’s funny (no, it didn’t happen to me stop asking).
After this long day, I was ready to fall asleep and rest my surely not bruised face from the fall that didn’t happen. Bruises would become a core part of my Thailand experience – especially the following day: on this day, I would attend a Muay Thai class.
