Lessons on the Road

Duped. Deceived. I was screaming all sorts of curses in my head while my calf muscles throbbed from the 309 step descent (and prior ascent) from Wat Doi Suthep. I was sweating profusely even with the cool, mountain breeze, stifling the panic that was rising from the bottom of my gut. I nervously noted the souvenir stalls closing up for the day. Night had fallen.

Save for a Thai lady who I came down the steps with, there were no longer any tourists around and no other vehicles for hire. I saw only one other red car but I wasn't sure it was the same one. I should have remembered to note the plates. I knew I shouldn't have trusted that man. I shouldn't have paid him 200 Thai Baht in advance. I felt like such a rookie. He said his name was Matthew. Maybe that was made up too.

Then the slow, bladder sphincter-loosening realization crept in: the red car I had hired to take me here and back to the city had abandoned me.

I mentally skimmed through my options:

a. Walk the entire 15 km-descent back to Chiang Mai. In the dark. NO.
b. Talk to one of the locals who seem to own a scooter and propose a deal. Do they speak English?
c. Go to the police station and ask for assistance. Are they still open?

I had to clear my head. Before I left for this trip, I had read about the unfortunate plight of a tourist in India. I gave myself a mental smack and sat on a a curb. I should not have traveled to this country solo.

How was I going to get myself back to my hotel?

I got up and checked the only red car parked by the road. I prayed to the gods that the driver was just taking a nap inside. I couldn't have taken that long up in the temple! Yes, I was entranced by the monk’s chants and the solitude of the temple over sundown but I couldn't have been more than an hour!

I peered through the car window. It was empty.

I paced back and forth neurotically. Then, unceremoniously, there he was, coming down the steps from one of the buildings. In seconds, all the fear drained and I resisted the urge to grab this petite man and hug him. I thanked him repeatedly and I was so overjoyed I told him I’d take him to dinner wherever he liked. Of course, I said this with more gestures and in broken English so he could understand. Smiling an unassuming smile, obviously clueless about what I had been through for the past fifteen minutes, Matthew opened the car door for me and asked if I was “happy”.

I told him, "yes".