We arrived in Bangkok in the middle of the night and began parsing how exactly to get to our hostel. Bangkok is rife with scams, or so the internet would have you believe, so despite our fatigue we were wary of taking a taxi from the airport. We determined to take a train into town, after we chugged our latte that we had recently purchased so we would have change to buy a ticket for the train that we couldn’t take the latte on. The train stopped still too far from our hostel to walk, so we negotiated a taxi down to a price that wasn’t a complete rip off and hopped in for the fastest tour of Bangkok imaginable that was mostly about our driver’s former career in Muay Thai boxing. We arrived just in time to catch the receptionist, we would have a place to sleep that night.

The next day while waiting on Megan to get ready I struck up conversation with what I thought was a fellow hostel guest. When I mentioned that we were heading into north Thailand and then into Vietnam he told me that he had a friend who had run tours in Vietnam and would have good advice. He also mentioned that his friend also was friendly with his smoke. So lured by the promise of saving some green and smoking some green we followed this good Samaritan to his friend’s office. Instead of the good-natured old hippie I had imagined we met an overly aggressive travel agent who tried to plan our entire trip for us, taking breaks only to insult our ideas and dismiss our style of travel. We sat for a while listening but as it became increasingly apparent that there would be no smoke we abruptly and forcefully excused ourselves from his unpleasantness.

We headed for the Grand Palace of Bangkok, a royal Wat complex and theoretical residence of Thailand’s King, though it is only used for ceremonial purposes these days. It was stunning as you would expect, though more for the sheer amount of structures within the complex than for any one thing. The Emerald Buddha, Thailand’s holiest relic, was held within a central chamber and was impressive, though the amount of crowds one had to fight to see it was not. Our aesthetic and cultural appetites sated we returned to the hostel and were informed that there would be a free Muay Thai fight that night. Evening plans settled.

The arena was small and we were forced to stand, but the fights were televised so there was more spectacle than I initially expected. A live band made up of traditional Thai instruments provided the music, and an enthusiastic MC announced winners in both English and Thai. The fights themselves were extremely entertaining, and most ended with one fighter on the ground, a fortunate result for those of us who know nothing of the rules of Muay Thai and thus what constituted a good round. After the match we had Thai food for a dollar and drink beers with friends from the hostel.

The next day we went to Wat Pho, a former university and home of the Reclining Buddha, a massive statue of a lounging Buddha housed within one of the temples. I found the Wat overall more interesting and more enjoyable than the Grand Palace, due in no small part to the much lesser crowds. I should mention here that it rained every day we were in Bangkok. All of our time in Southeast Asia was technically spent in the rainy season, but Bangkok was the first place that it really felt that way. However patience and a good rain jacket helped us keep dry and seemed to also keep the number of tourists to a minimum. A net positive in our book. We stopped at a coffee shop hidden in an alley on the way back from the Wat, the kind of cool local spot that you only find by walking¹ instead of taking a taxi. We settled into the hostel for card games and beer and an early night.

It is wrong to say I was disappointed by Bangkok. That it didn’t live up to my expectations was true, but I feel more responsible for that than I blame Bangkok. We spent too few days there, and didn’t delve into the depths. The ladyboys of legend were there but not in numbers, opportunities for sin and regret were numerous, but no more so than in most large cities. I suspect the Bangkok of legend, or at least of Hollywood, still exists, but it requires you look for it. We didn’t look for it. And I kind of regret it.

Our next stop took us to the stunning ruins of Sukhothai, the former capital of the first major Thai Kingdom in Southeast Asia. Brick wats and temples dating back to the 13^th Century make up the center of Old Sukhothai, a testament to the former glory of the city. We rented bicycles to explore the ruins in haste in order to make the last bus north to Chiang Mai. When we got back to the bus station we learned that the last bus to Chiang Mai left thirty minutes before the time we were told. We booked the first bus in the morning and returned to our hostel to ask for one more night.

Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second city, has the feel of a more laid back and artsy Bangkok. There are still hordes of people and motorcycles going every direction at once, but there are also a lot of coffee shops. We arrived in the middle of the day and ate lunch at Gallery Seescape, an art gallery, cafe, hipster restaurant that served undeniably delicious food crafted into perfectly instagramable dishes. From there we meandered toward the old city.

Surrounded by a moat and the remains of the city’s original walls, the old city is the touristic heart of Chiang Mai. Vegan restaurants, tattoo parlors, cafes, and luxury hotels abound next to centuries old Wats² and Colonial Europe influenced buildings. We visited three different Wats while there, the most memorable was Chedi Luang, where we sat down for a two hour conversation with a resident monk. We learned a little bit about monk life, that almost every male in Thailand spends some time as a monk, that you can leave when you want, and you have to have permission from your parents to become a monk. He also taught us some of the basics of Buddhist philosophy, and when our talk was over he thanked us for our time. The truth is that we were even more grateful for his time. Other highlights of Chiang Mai included a trip to Wat Doi Suthep on top of a mountain overlooking the city, buying PBR and finding BBQ to celebrate Independence Day, eating a macaroni and cheese burger at a rock n roll themed bar, finally spending extra money so I could have my favorite beer in the whole world³, and of course the Elephant Jungle Sanctuary.

All tourism involving elephants is a trade off between trying to keep elephants safe, make money, and educate the public. The fact is that elephants were meant to roam hundreds if not thousands of miles, Zoos simply can’t afford the space to make them comfortable. Unfortunately for elephants, and eventually us, humans have destroyed so much of their natural habitat that a limited existence in a zoo might be the only existence available. The elephant sanctuaries of Thailand attempt to be somewhere in the middle.

We chose Elephant Jungle Sanctuary because it had the best reviews we could find from an ethical perspective. Large open spaces, many different camps so individual packs didn’t have to interact with tourists every day, absolutely no riding⁴, and an understanding that the elephants welfare would come before ours.⁵ We felt as good as you can about the sanctuary, never really knowing what goes on beyond visiting hours, so we booked a day visit. After the single most frightening vehicle ride of my life, involving a loose dirt road on the literal side of a mountain with a sheer drop off on the side, we arrived at the sanctuary, were given a lesson in elephant interaction and loaded with food, then led to meet the elephants. The elephants, made up of rescued elephants from less ethical tourist enterprises and their offspring, know well enough what our approach means and make for us at alarming speed. We feed them bananas and sugarcane as fast as we can, which is not nearly fast enough as they reach into our pockets with their trunks to grab more food. They move about freely, and at one point we are reminded to watch that our feet are not stepped on. I spend the rest of the day terrified of having a multi-ton animal ruin my athletic fortunes.⁶ Later we would make and administer medicine, mud bathe, and then regular bathe, and in general just hangout with these amazing creatures. The experience was truly magical, and I hope it was ethical. The elephants seemed happy, they had more space than all the zoos I’ve ever visited combined, and they had babies.⁷ I felt that my money was going to a good cause, but then there was a time when no one knew how bad it was to ride an elephant. All we can do is try and do right.

We left Chiang Mai two days later and traveled 786 curves to Pai, our final destination of Thailand. Pai, high in the mountains of Northern Thailand, was a quiet market town until it became entrenched on the backpacker trail. Known for its artistic shops and cafes, great trekking, and readily available mind alterers, it’s a fantastic place to relax for a few days or months. Indeed we met more than a few travelers who had decided to camp out in Pai for an extended time.

We got a private room at the Pai Backpackers Meeting Place, a hostel on the outskirts of town run by a man named Ron, and Ron was awesome. Anything you needed Ron got it for you, including things which you aren’t supposed to be able to get, if that’s something you are into. He was nice and always energetic, and just wanted to make sure your stay was amazing. One of the Pai specialties are mushroom shakes. Made from local mushrooms and of questionable legality, they provide a trip comparable if much more mild than the truffles of Amsterdam fame. Every place in Pai seemed to offer them if you knew how to order them, and Pai backpackers was no different. We watched a Dutch girl laugh uncontrollably and couple of French guys giggle and wow. There would be no smelling the colors for us however, sorry to disappoint you.

What we did accomplish was to climb another massive set of stairs to another Wat with wonderful views, visit another stunning waterfall, and eat more amazing Thai food. Pai was one of those cities where it was nice to just exist. Less nice was the realization that Megan is for better bicycle rider than I. You don’t forget how to ride, but after twenty years you do realize that you haven’t used those muscles very often. After four relaxing days we caught an early van back to Chiang Mai. Our Visas were used up, and it was time to move on. So long Thailand, hello Vietnam.