Why I love Chiang Mai - part 1

I've spent the last 12 days floating as if on a cloud, down the streets of Chiang Mai, past my favourite hole-in-the-wall neighbourhood eateries, delighted to be back. Why do I love this city so much? Is it perhaps because it doesn't feel at all like a city and yet offers everything I could possibly need around me to be happy? well, except for my beloved family and close friends, who I wish I could tele-transport here. What are you all waiting for???!!!

Coming back to WaLai Guesthouse has been a real treat. Little has changed; the rooms are still large and airy, I still have a view of the mountains, reception remains the buzzing meeting point for all us massage students who stay here, and the new tropical garden with canopy Aun has built out back makes for an ever peaceful stay. I live down a very peaceful neighbourhood street, or soi as they are called here, covered in trees and best of all, quiet ... except for the howling dog next door, but that just adds to the charm!

The laundry lady on the opposite sidewalk still washes my clothes for less than 1 euro, and the last time I cheked - 3 days ago - the blind massage place down the street still charges 2 euros for an hour's worth of foot massage. Bliss! I've opted to carry myself on foot or sitting atop the gear-less WaLai bicycle. That's OK, Chiang Mai is pretty flat, and what I like best about the bike is the handy little basket attached to the front, where I leave everything I'm carrying and it never gets stolen.

A new pool has opened a block away so I fit in a 40 minute swim every morning just so that I can indulge in sticky rice with my meals or the occasional excess; the other day as I walked back, wet bathing suit in hand, the neighbour had a stall out on the street selling fried bananas. I did a double take! I was not sure whether to be happy for her reading my mind, or weary of what this might do to my thighs. And so I decided to indulge - it's been almost 2 years since I was last here so surely I can forgive myself for caving in to this scrumptious treat. She gave me a bag-ful for 5 baht (10 cents) and I ravished 2 on my way up the stairs and another 3 with wet fingers while I showered - enough to feel guilty and donate the rest to the girl at reception!

I've returned to my favourite Thai stall, only 2 streets away, where a charming middle aged lady who speaks no English and laughs at every attempt I make at Thai, sells the most delicious noodle soup for only 20 Baht (40 cents). It's a chicken broth with Chinese 5 spice mix, a handful of rice noodles, some roasted strips of pork tenderloin, and another handful of bean sprouts, green beans, cabbage, spring onion and coriander. I think I've had it for dinner every day this week ... and I have no intention of stopping my newly developed trend! There's this other lady down that same street who looks like she's occupying the chimney shoot down the alley between two buildings. She whips up a storm on a wok right there, before my eyes, so not only do I know it's nice and fresh, but I get to practice my Thai cooking - visually! I don't care too much for her Pad Thai, but her stir-fried morning glory is still the best in town!

Learning

Less than two months away will mark a very important anniversary: 2 years of on-and-off travel, discovering the real meaning of work-life balance, and cementing lifetime friendships.

Early December will mark the time I met Gai, Sue and Deb in Chiang Mai and began a series of adventures I hope to be able to tell my grandchildren some day. No need to say it has been the best decision of my life. But more importantly, as time passes I realize how much this experience has enriched and fostered my imagination. I have so many business ideas and things I would love to do that each day that goes by makes me feel my life is too short to fulfill it all! But hey, one step at a time, and one foot in front of the other.

And so after a week of decadent life in Siargao and a fair share of hedonistic fun, I was invited to come to Camiguin Island and spend some time with my friend Deb and her husband Kai, the musician with the rockabilly band who will be touring Asia next year and with whom I may be singing too. Whatever happens though, coming to discover a new island in the Philippines is an experience to remember. I boarded my flight out of London thinking I would be re-visiting old spots I knew. But being flexible and open to new experiences just makes life unravel before you in fascinating ways.

Deb had warned me that Camiguin reminded her of Hawaii, in its volcanic, lush ways with colourful flowers blooming everywhere and fresh water springing from every hill. The volcanic element may make the beach black, but it gives the island a fertility that is hard to ignore. There is plenty to see and do, such as dipping in natural springs of cold or hot water that take the shape of waterfalls in lush, cave-like surroundings. One white sand bar and another marine sanctuary little off island called Mantigue make for fascinating snorkeling to rival some of the best tank dives I have experienced so far. And Calan’s true Italian restaurant serves, hands down, the best Italian sausage pizza I have ever tasted, more so out here when every once in a while one feels like a taste of home.

So today I swam alongside the coral reef wall in Mantigue island and watched as the small community’s 25 children in a shack called a school. Children learned to read in a beach-side school that could resemble a run-down garden shack in any western home. This is when I realize that westerners who claim they never learned because their teacher or the school’s facilities sucked cannot be quite true. How then would the hill tribe children of Sapa, in Northern Vietnam, who school only until the age of 12, or these island children in the Philippines learning in a one-room wooden building barely rising from the sand, without electricity or a toilet, (let alone an art or science department or a gym) be able to learn and speak more than one language fluently, or reach your heart with such beautiful smiles.

To friends, who reach out and know when to guide you back to your heart.
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To freedom

Rum and coke in hand, with a little calamansi lemon frozen into an ice cube, finds me writing about my travels once again. To think I nearly cancelled this trip… time and thought tells me it was the fear of getting carried away again by the life of travel, of easy riding down the coast of a white island, surrounded by only sandy roads, fishermen in their wooden bangkas and the smell of Pandan fruit falling from the trees.

A week in Siargao island has enchanted me once again. Perhaps this time more because I realize that with a little bit of saving, I can buy some land and build a house eventually… or maybe even a spa and restaurant – which is missing on the island and has been a business idea on my mind for a while. The more time I spend here, the more local I feel. Yes, I wish to be part of the others who have chosen this as their seasonal home. I fear that if I do not act soon, others will take over, mass tourism will turn it into a makeshift Boracay, and the charm and magnetism will be lost. It really is a pearl in the orient one wishes to keep precious.

Billabong sponsored the surfing competition there this year, which has helped the island get massive coverage and millions worth of publicity. They have a 3-year contract so I envisage myself there this same time next year, cheering for the young 20-something year old surfers who ride the waves in style and make it look so simple, and then sharing beers and a night walk on the beach during a blackout with the older surfers, who may be overshadowed in the water by the younger guys, but have nothing to envy them when night falls. And so life goes for the traveling single female who prefers to sit in front of her computer at her leisure and share snippets of how her alternative life unravels.

To freedom
(pictures to follow)

Revisiting

Coming back. The hope and anticipation mix with expectations and the dread; that you may return and find the charm has gone, that nothing is the same, that it would have been better to keep the great memories intact. All this went through my head before getting here. And the truth is that this is not the second or third time… it is the fourth! I knew what I was coming back for. And so I put the expectations aside and honoured my true feelings and desires or wishing to come to just enjoy myself and have a good time.

Siargao is not an easy place to get to and so making it all the way over was overly challenging this time, but the reward has been ever greater and I have found I am indeed enjoying it once again. It is different, of course, because the novelty of the resort has been replaced by a very comfortable familiarity with the staff, the food and my surroundings. However, the marvel of the view, the sunsets and the way the light reflects off the water remains mesmerizing. I walk down the powdered sand beach alone… alone, without stumbling across rubbish or people. Simply. The fresh young coconut, or buko, still tastes delectably soft with that hint of natural sweetness that continues to make it such a special treat.

I am sharing a room with Gai and our other friend Deb, who recently moved to another island. It is so cool to be back together, sharing so much more than a room; reliving our travel adventures through our photos, riding together up against each other on a habal-habal extended motorbike in true Pinoy style, shaking mojitos and dancing barefoot in the sand as we roll away on a warm Siargao afternoon.

Anonymous comments

Hello everyone!

More to come!! When you comment, please leave me your name and a contact email as otherwise, how will I know who you are and how to reach you?

Anonymous commented on Minneapolis post:
"No me lo puedo creer... Tebita... Han pasado unos pocos años... Estás guapísima Mlle.
Soy aquel madrileño de la bandera de España..........."

Teba replied:
¡¡Ay qué curiosidad!! No sé quien eres...dame más pistas y dime cómo ponerme en contacto.