Adventures By Design

In which the travelers narrowly escape a gem scam, and help restore balance by scamming a gem store.

Editor’s Note: We split this post into three parts because it is really long: about 3000 words. Ya, sorry about that, but we had lots to say. And get used to it, because the next few posts are almost as long.

part three of three

We arrived at the second gem shop, and no sooner had we stepped through the doorway than we were warmly greeted with a cool bottle of water. This shop was different than the other one because here your could watch from behind glass as the gemstones were cut, polished, and set. Our education of gems continued. (Incidentally, did you know that when a gem is “cut”, it is actually ground on a spinning machine that looks like a potter’s wheel?)

We left the gem production line, hurried through the aisles of display cases, and finally poked out way through the ubiquitous gift shop. Here an older gentleman from the gift shop struck up conversation with Ric. For those of you familiar with the Korean myth of fan death, this may resonate. Upon learning that we are from Canada, the man asked Ric all kinds of questions about Canadian weather. He seemed particularly shocked to hear that during summer some places in Canada can get as hot as Thailand. He also wanted to learn more about these special kinds of air-conditioners he had heard of called “heaters”. What exactly did they do? Did they actually make the air warmer? And was it true that if you were in a room with a so-called “heater” you would likely develop a severe life-threatening nose bleed? I tried my best to tactfully tell him that his sources were misinformed, and likely making a joke at his expense, but I’m left with the feeling that he wasn’t quite convinced that heaters aren’t harmful.

Like our tuk-tuk driver happily filling his tank outside, this man provided an opportunity to learn more about Thailand from the inside. He described how Thailand does not produce oil, and so rising fuel prices are making life more difficult for Thais. Due to the actions of the OPEC oil cartel, in the last year or so the price of gasoline has skyrocketed in Thailand. The price of a liter of gasoline is now 30 baht ($1), about the same as in Canada, however keep in mind that Thailand’s average income is significantly lower. Where they can, many Thais have switched to natural gas or LPG (propane), which although increasing in price, is still more stable and generally cheaper than gasoline.

After leaving the second gem shop we finally arrived in Chinatown. Our time in the tuk-tuk had come to an end: from here we’d walk the rest of the way to the train station. Our driver under-charged us half an hour (150 baht), which we rounded back up to an even four hours (200 baht). We bade him a pleasant farewell, and walked down the street.

Our next order of business was finding something to eat. We walked along the busy smelly streets of Chinatown, waiting for a restaurant to appeal to us. Through an unspoken understanding, we had agreed not to eat at a restaurant that featured shark fin soup or bird’s nest soup. We weren’t having much luck, and we were getting hungrier and hungrier. Luckily, a tuk-tuk driver approached us, and after we gave him the usual ‘not interested’ brush-off, he asked us where we were going. We told him that we were hungry, and he suggested several restaurants on the other side of Chinatown (thus necessitating a ride in his tuk-tuk). However, when we told him that we had limited time until our bus, he dropped the salesman repertoire, and indicated that the restaurant down the street was popular for it’s dim sum. We thanked him for his time, crossed the street and had a great dinner.

After dinner, we got lost trying to find our way to the train station. We ended up walking the exact opposite direction along a canal, and when we finally realized our error, we had to scramble a little to get to the station in time. We made it, and quickly found our tour operator who was collecting passengers who would be on our bus. When we were all together, she walked us through the station to the minibus parked outside. A minibus! Surely there must be some mistake, for if this was our bus, where was the rest of it? The photo Neung had shown us featured a full-sized double decker with reclining seats and onboard toilet. Piling our baggage and bodies into the bus, we felt like a circus performers. The only thought in our heads was: nine hours. Nine hours of being cramped in a shoebox, with no room to stretch or place to put a pillow.

We were getting frustrated, but thought, we’ll just wait until we hit the highway before we resign ourselves to this fate. Maybe this minibus was just shuttling to the bigger one? Imagine our relief as we pulled onto a side street and saw several large buses loading passengers. We sent a grateful thank you to the great Greyhound gods, and lined up.

Given the adventure that preceded it, the actual bus ride was dull and uneventful. We sat, we slept, in comfort. Arriving in Chiang Mai in the early morning, we waited an hour or so for someone to check out, and our room to be cleaned, and finally fell into bed for a much-needed nap.