Pai is for hippies

… and Mae Hong Son is for trekkies. I did not eat pie in Pai, but there were plenty of coffee shops that probably offered a decent pie selection. My impression was that westerners congregated in this small town to drink coffee, have their hair dreadlocked, and go tubing down the river; I did none of these things. The hipster-hippie hub of the north was chill, sure, but mostly devoid of Thai culture, so I only stayed one night. I did achieve my goal, however: a good sleep, at least compared to how I had been sleeping in Chiang Mai.

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The road to Pai is paved

… with the intention to make you puke.

I’ve been feeling contemplative this past week, undoubtedly due to me being sick and writhing around in bed: the perfect sanctuary, aside from a Buddhist temple, for deep thought.

After the sixth day of my second bout of TD (a less explicit way to refer to traveler’s diarrhea—sorry for the visual), I resorted to taking the antibiotics I brought with me. It’s safe to say that the Dukoral I took before leaving (an oral vaccine having less than 50% effectiveness in preventing TD) has failed me, but I’ve also been gambling with the general food safety guidelines for traveling abroad; I’ve been eating raw salads, pre-sliced fruit, and drinking water with ice from some of the food vendors, restaurants, and the gym cooler. Rinsing utensils, cups, and plates with water only also seems to be the common washing practice here. I try not to preoccupy myself with avoiding every little thing, since I feel that it takes away from the experience!

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