Chiang Mai: The Final Stop (20th-30th March)

Arriving and overnighting in Bangkok then flying on to Chiang Mai, Thailand hits as a sensory overload of noise, smell and sights. Every street filled with a jumble of buildings, road-side kitchens and carts very often in front of them, scooters dodging cars and tuk tuks, smells of food and massage oils then bad drains.






Chiang Mai is an old city with a moat and some remaining bits of wall. There's a nice vibe to it though still it seems busy, noisy and hot especially after New Zealand. At this time of year there's a burn off in the countryside around which creates a hazy smog over the city.

Night market

I'm here to volunteer at a dog charity 12km out of Chiang Mai. It's pretty different from what I'm used to- more basic of course, but also there are dogs everywhere underfoot. There's plenty of neutering to be done and interesting cases to see. Many of the resident dogs have some kind of problem be it large or small and there's certainly not a full quota of functional limbs. Most seem happy enough though and staff and lay volunteers walk them and lavish love.

By evening time I'm pretty tired from the busy days and working in the heat so I have a meal, sometimes a massage (both very cheap) and an early night. I have a couple of days off during my 10 days in Chiang Mai and do some exploring, visit some of the temples in the city and wander the markets. By the time I'm leaving the daytime temperature is getting up to an uncomfortable 38 C.


My thoughts have been turning increasingly towards home as the time gets nearer but it almost doesn't feel real. I fly back to Bangkok and board the BA flight to London. The plane staff are the most numerous English people I've seen for a while. I take sleeping meds and pass most of the night in artificial slumber, then we're landing and Britain in aerial looks a bit damp and a rather muddy brown. Back on English soil. It feels strange, slightly alien to be back but as I cross from the plane to the terminal the blast of freezing air through my thin clothing starts to remind me; I'm home.