Our time in Chiang Mai is nearing an end, and with the end my lonely adventure to Burma is coming closer. Having had three days left in the city when I last wrote and deciding that a two day trek would just be too stressful, and the chance of it not meeting our expectations too high, we chose to stay put and get the most out of the city. We hired a motorcycle Monday night and rode around the town for a while, finally ending at an Italian restaurant for dinner. Aline is half Italian, and not quite as promiscuous as myself when it comes to Thai food, and had I known how much joy even my willingness to eat Italian in Asia would have caused in her, I may well have gone easier before on my motto not to eat anything but the local food. Dinner was quite good, although the wine (they only had one open white, red wine was not an option for me in the heat) again met confirmed my dislike of Chardonnay: it's oily and sour, or at least I have not yet had a taste of a different one. With the motorcycle waiting for us downstairs, I was unable to stay in bed for long, and we got up early the next morning to head to the Mae Sa waterfalls in a national park just 30 kilometres north of Chiang Mai. After a bit of zig-zag navigation, trying to get out of the city which has just a little too many one-way streets for foreigners, we didn't have any more problems reaching the site, disembarked and hiked around a bit until after about 30 minutes we got to one of the falls with a lot of Thai (no tourists whatsoever) bathing and trolling about in the water. We joined, of course. With the plan to drive further north to visit the "Hmong Lodge" and another waterfall, we walked back and I could not believe it when my pocket did not contain the motorcycle keys anymore. Damn. Once again I felt foolish that I just cannot seem to keep my stuff together, and I punished myself running back to the falls while Aline was already making arrangements for our rescue. Fortunately, I eventually did find the keys just in time to call off the arrangements, and -- soaked in sweat -- we were on the road again. I really should exercise more. About 30 minutes of a beautiful ride down into the park, we reached the "Hmong Lodge", only to find it to be nothing more than an overpriced lodge, offering its guests "local culture" in the form of shows and displays of Hmong handicraft work. We enjoyed the most expensive beer of our trip up there, then turned around and stopped at another waterfall, where a bunch of Thai youth had assembled. With a subtle intention to crash their party, we joined, but the heavy rain that started after a few minutes drove those intentions away. After spending 15 minutes-or-so sheltered in a hut with some of the Thai and making almost no contact, we took off and rode the bike back to Chiang Mai, stopping by one of the cinemas and deciding to spend the evening watching "Ice Age 2". We got back to the hotel just in time to meet our tailor to fit the shirts, trousers, skirt, and jacket we had ordered, sending her back with quite a few changes to be made. Then, with an hour left to kill, we opted for a massage before the movie and headed into the shop we thought the hotel owner had recommended. Turns out that we took the wrong door, and while Aline was getting a good knead, I found myself under the incapable hands (and feet) of an overweight Thai woman, who apparently seemed to think that litres worth of massaging oil would somehow obscure her inability to massage muscles and instead apply moderate pressure to my bones only. I told her a bunch of times but really only made it worse -- in the end I must have upset her to a point where she started bouncing up and down on me with the clear intention to torture and eventually murder me... but fortunately the 60 minutes were over just in time. The movie theatre itself wasn't spectacular (and I didn't think the movie was either), and if it hadn't been for the national anthem and some low-budget film flashing pictures of the King, while everyone stood and paid due respect to him, I'd have said it was just another cinema night I'll quickly forget. At 70 Baht entrance fee (about 1,40 EUR) it didn't hurt either. The evening ended as we met some folks from a bar back in Ayutthaya and chatted for a while, learning that the Thai elections are on today (Wednesday), and as a result, no alcohol is served in the city throughout that day, as well as after 18:00 o'clock the night before. Tough luck for them, especially after we succeeded in getting another can each while they did not. The trick is simply to take the beer out of the fridge and hand over the money without asking questions. So today, our last day in the city, was supposed to be museum day, with the tribal museum, the national museum, and possibly even the insect museum on our list. Negotiating with a tuk tuk driver for the right price, it then occured to us that it's cheaper anyway to hire a motorcycle at 200 Baht/day (4 EUR) -- and way more fun -- so we again hired a bike and drove off to find the museums closed due to the elections. Not that this upset us in any way; we rode back to the hotel, spent the hottest hours of the day reading by the pool, and went for another cruise in the afternoon, returning again just in time to meet the tailor a second time; while my shirts and trousers are fine (and beautiful), Aline's skirt needed yet another modification, so we are expecting her again tomorrow. By the way: yesterday we rode a Yamaha Mio 125cc automatic bike, and today I settled for the Honda Dream 125cc manual, which I had ridden before in Laos and which seemed like a good bike. If I ever have the choice again, I would certainly go with the Yamaha, which was a joy to ride, especially since this has been only my third time on a bike. Now, the last night in Chiang Mai will probably see us dining somewhere, packing, running the last errands, and sleeping in, so we can actually make it to the airport tomorrow in time and rested. I hope I'll be able to continue writing from Burma. Apparently, network access is restricted, so I fear I may have some difficulty logging into my servers. However, I bought a USB stick today, and with that, and maybe A Little Help From My Friends back in Zurich, I can publish entries nevertheless. Stay tuned.

After three days of intensive city soaking, it was little surprise that Saturday and Sunday nights brought cats and dogs down from the sky, almost as if St. Peter up there also wanted to play along at the Songkhran festival, but came late. Preceeded by strong winds, the rain on Saturday caused everyone to hurredly pack up their booths, leaving the wonderful markets deserted that night. Fortunately, Sunday's rain wasn't so strong, and the famous Sunday night market in Chiang Mai did take place after all -- when the first showers had settled, almost all merchants came back out onto the road and the shopping could continue. I witnessed a funny moment on the market in the afternoon: the speakers, which are installed on almost all lamp post and sometimes blast horrid music onto the streets, started playing the national anthem. In response, everyone stood up and still for its duration, almost as if time had been frozen. When the last chord stroke, the the people continued at what they were doing and the familiar buzz was quickly restored. We spent yesterday in cooking school, the same one I had been to a year before: the "Thai Chocolate Cookery Centre", which I can recommend to anyone. I chose this place again because I did not want to run the risk of ending up at one of the tourist ripoff places, but next time I shall try a different one; apparently there's a cooking school outside the city on a farm, where yuo get to harvest all herbs and fruits yourself prior to the cooking, instead of the market tour commonly done in the beginning of the day. On our way home, stuffed after 8 dishes of Thai food spread throughout the whole day, we stoped by our guesthouse from last year: the "Chiang Mai Garden Guesthouse", to say hello to the owner, Pissamorn. I was happy to find her remembering me, and all the more happy when she honestly advised us not to try "just any bamboo rafting" -- I had been spoiled by the trek she organised for us last year, which involved a morning of bamboo rafting down a river from the middle of the jungle, which you cannot reach by car. I have no problem believing her that the other travel agencies which organise rafting trips dump you just somewhere along a road on slower rivers with a far less beautiful scenery. Unfortunately, neither time nor the heat really allow us to go on the three day trip through the jungle, so we postponed the rafting to our next trip. Nevertheless, I feel very good about having Pissamorn as a reliable contact in Chiang Mai, for future trips, and in case of any problems! She also referred us to a Thai silk factory and told the owner to treat us with respect, so today (Monday), we let them pick us up and placed an order for a bunch of comfy trousers, and some silk button-down shirts; Aline got herself a nice blouse and a wonderful dress. We now have two and a half days left in Chiang Mai and have no real plans. A 1-2 day trip to Pai still seems like an option, but it's supposed to be unbearably hot up there. We'll see. A keep having recurring thoughts about my dream to move to Southeast Asia (Hanoi, to be exact) to start a computer school, and even though there are no concrete plans yet, I feel like my motivation to finish the Ph.D. rather sooner than later is on a steep incline. I could imagine tearing down my "tents" in Switzerland and to go to Vietnam for half a year or a year of language school, then see whether I manage to meet the right people to allow me to set up an existence. Alongside the computer school, my dream includes visions of a nice and comfy guesthouse where you get what you pay for, concentrating on quality rather than quantity, which by the way is what the Chiang Mai Garden Guesthouse seems to be doing. For me, that's the only way to go about anything if you want success and satisfaction, be it consulting, teaching, or a guesthouse in Asia. Again, thanks for reading along.

We got up early this morning to catch our flight to Chiang Mai from Sukhothai Airport, the most beautiful airport I have ever seen: it's not a cement brick with squared floors, but rather a group of traditional Thai hut houses, one for ticketing and checking, one for departure, and one for arrival, and all set in a beautiful surrounding -- no wonder this airport won the Thai environmental award every year since it was first given. If you ever consider visiting Sukhothai from Chiang Mai, fly there! I can imagine arriving at that airport to be a very special experience! Following the touchdown few minutes after takeoff, we sought out a couple of guest houses and finally settled at the Awana Guesthouse, which also offered a pool, although on seeing it, it's more like a bath tub for 5 people. Whatever... I used the morning hours, during which the Thai appeared to be still sleeping to run two most important errands: first, getting my ear unclogged, and second, picking up the bag with clothing from the train station. Our guesthouse referred me to the Chiang Mai Ram hospital, a privately run clinic, and once I got there (still dry), I didn't get to read as much as a single page in my new book (The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon) until I was lying flat and had an English-speaking doctor examine me. He told me that the Thai put some sort of stuff (I did not understand the name of the substance) into their pools, which causes European ears to clog up frequently, and after 15 minutes of routine, I was able to hear again on my left ear. I paid just short of 20 EUR for the cure and felt so good about it and the hospital that I talked my way up to the management to make a donation -- in the amount of the estimated difference between those 20 EUR and the amount I would have had to pay in Switzerland. They said that I was the first person to ever make a donation to the clinic, the other foreigners usually only complain about the high prices. Go figure about the kind of tourist who frequents Chiang Mai. Speaking of tourists, unfortunately, this place is crowded with Europeans, and not just any of them, but the worst kind. For me, dress code means a lot, and when I see Europeans without shirts, or women in bikinis in a Bhuddist city, I sometimes wonder why these people don't simply stay home. Of course, tourism is the number one source of income for about 70% of the Thai, so it's just as well that they come, but then they should not be complaining about medical care for 20 EUR, or bargain to the minimum price for handicrafts, or annoy themselves that the tuk tuk driver just "ripped them off" by charging 60 instead of 40 Bhat (again, around 1 EUR). Cured, I made my way for the station and almost made it there dry, if it hadn't been for that damned pickup van closing in from behind and hunting my taxi for several hundred metres, just to get a shot. At the station, I took some detours to find the cargo terminal, but was then surprised at how easy it was to claim the bag, even without the receipt (which, if you will remember, was in the wallet I had lost a couple of days ago). I am really relieved, once for the clothing, and second because the bag itself was lent to me by a friend (forgive me, HP). By the time I left the station it was about noon, and there was water everywhere, but I made it to the hotel almost dry. The Thai duly respect if you have a bag, smoke a cigarette, hold a cellphone, or simply wave your hand. It goes without saying that the two massive splashed I received nevertheless were from tourists, who must have reached some sort of overpowering state of joy and didn't care about what they sprayed. When I saw some tourists splash buckets onto a couple of old people (which is a no-do), I was really ashamed. The New Year festival in Chiang Mai is said to be the biggest and most lively all over Thailand. I met Aline back at the hotel and we headed out into the centre city for yet another day of soaked clothing, and we can probably agree that the "festivities" here are second to none. This time, following the bad experience of the inferior position of a water gun on a motorcycle, we bought two puckets and got up on one of the pickups with some Thais and Burmese people speaking excellent English, and had excellent fun for an hour or two -- gettting no further than 200 metres along one of the rivers or so -- there was no driving on the roads which were filled with people and vehicles, just not touching each other, and there was water everywhere with people getting fresh canisters from the rivers all the time. We then remembered that we were wearing our last set of clothing, the other stuff being laundered and ready for pickup tomorrow, so we disembarked the truck and headed out of the city to the market in hope to find some trousers to wear, but short of a Sarong for Aline, there was nothing striking our fancy (which, mind you, isn't high. I just don't want to be wearing thick jeans in this weather). Anyway, the trousers we were wearing had dried in the mean time, and now the challenge was to make it back to the guesthouse without being splashed again -- and quite a difficult endeavour it was, but we almost succeeded, only soaking up another litre each, which, believe me, was peanuts by then. Sorry for this somewhat unexciting entry. Starting tomorrow, we'll break with the festival as we've had enough of water for the time being. On our list are a day of cooking school, the zoo, a 1-2 day treck in the hills, a seminar with monks, and, of course, a bunch of the temples of the city. Thanks again for reading along.