"Ahhhhhh!"
That was the first thing that came out of my mouth as we made our way further into the mountains and closer to Mae Salong. The oppressive heat of Thaton was slowly being ebbed out by the nice cool Mae Salong air.
I was warmly greeted by the Little Home Guesthouse owners and quickly made myself comfortable in the same room I had before, the bungalow at the end, the furthest from the street. Unlike the guesthouse at Thaton, there weren't ants everywhere and the room had a nice new, clean feel about it.
The first few days I just spent doing a whole lot of nothing. I would take long walks through the surrounding tea plantations, which was a hilly 3 km trek that took me about 3 hours to complete. I also climbed up the 718 steps to visit the temple at the top of the mountain a few times to watch the sunset. It was lovely.
Since there wasn't a whole lot going on in Mae Salong, I figured I should try to be a bit more productve, so after a couple days of relaxing I then decided to sign up for some Thai language lessons, which a woman in town was offering at 100 baht an hour. So I signed up for 10 one-hour lessons, two-hours per day. Joyce also ran a cafe/restaurant with her boyfriend, Tomas, so we made arrangements to meet after her lunch rush hour, though really, there was no tourist business to speak of. All in all, the language lessons were worth the 1000 baht I paid. They were fun, though very difficult. I did manage to pick up a few things, though I still need to refer to my notes, when I talk to people. (Note: Joyce makes the best red curry ever! If you ever go to visit, you must, must, must try it.)
I also had the opportunity to meet an old crotchety expat named Dave, his Singaporean friend, Heng, and Heng's girlfriend, Ying. They were great fun to hang out with and were a great source of information. Cool thing was Heng even offered to hire me as a teacher if I ever make it to Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam, where he apparently has one of his language schools. Score!
So as all things go with me...I can never escape without meeting someone completely nuts. This time I had the misfortune to meet a crazy Canadian, who was living in Britain, and tried, lamely, to speak with a British accent. Sadly, it came out sounding Irish/Scottish or some weird combination of them all.
Anyway, he seemed of a decent sort, at first. He actually trekked with me one day and that was sorta cool. But I guess my spidey senses were not on that day, because I really should have got a clue when he spent the entire time complaining about his ex and how much he hated England in his annoying fake whatever accent. The dude was just oozing bitterness and contempt. That should have been my first clue. The second clue that I missed entirely was his stories about Bangkok and how much the Thai women there were all over him. Even though i tried to explain to him why that was, he seemed to think that it was because of his good looks, wit and charm. Right....who am I to burst his bubble?
It wasn't until he made a pass at me out of nowhere that the "Danger, Will Robinson" alarm was going off in my head. As graciously as I could (which was pretty gosh darn gracious), I told him I wasn't interested. So, here is where the "he's nuts" thing starts....He proceeded to spend the next FOUR HOURS asking me "Why not?". He tried to support his cause by telling me that he's dated beautiful women, that all those women in Bangkok thought he was great, and that he was easy on the eyes. Now, I'm not a patient person, I can admit it. I've been working on it. However, this tested my patience to the limits. As did the touching. He kept trying to touch me!!!! BLECH! At one point, he went to leave and he turned around and asked me if he could get a hug. Now what kind of guy with any amount of sand, turns to a girl and in a sniveling, begging voice, asks for a bleeping hug???? My response was simply, "If you touch me, I'll rip off your arms and beat you senseless." That sure as hell stopped him. He stopped dead in his tracks, with arms stretched out, and asked me, "Really?", with a totally surprised look on his face. OMG! I wish I could have taken a picture of his face. It was priceless! In all honesty, what should have given me THE CLUE, was his crazy eye. You know what I'm talking about? He had that one eye that looked left and the other that looked somewhere else, so you never know which I to look at. In my past experience, people with those crazy eyes are a bit crazy. I know it's a generalization and not a very nice one, but like I said, it's been my experience, that it is true.
After a couple days of avoiding him like the plague, I finally decided to leave Mae Salong and go down to Chiang Mai. :( But not before he had put a note on my hotel room door with an extra razor blade for my razor and an email address. (I swear I think he was waiting in the bushes or something, because as soon I as I got into my room, I heard a knock on my door. When I opened it, there was the razor and a note.) Since I was brought up with manners, I sent him a thank you note via email and figured that was the end of it. Was I mistaken! He replied, told me that I "was hard work," whatever that means...and then went on and on about how he hoped to meet again, perhaps in the islands.
So, this is where the patience disappears completely. The horns popped out and like in the cartoons, where the bull is sharpening them before going in to fight the matador, I sharpened mine before giving him a piece of my mind. Hmmm...I haven't heard from him, so I'm thinking he got the hint this last time.
Sigh...if I didn't meet lame-o, I would have stayed there much, much longer. It was so very peaceful and beautiful. Alas, all good things must come to an end. I guess it was better that he was there or I probably would never have left.
