It’s still dark outside as our car creeps towards an unknown lone building on the outskirts of Keng Tung, Myanmar. Our driver switches off the engine, indicating for us to get out of the car. We obey. My heart accelerates in my chest; every pulse in my body intensifies as my imagination runs wild. Our driver begins to wake up the inhabitants inside the building. Turning to us with a smile, he says, “Open all time” and continues to bang. A man – half asleep – opens the door still getting dressed and beckons us inside. My wild imagination gets a rude awakening when we enter an office: the first of our immigration check points on the way to the Thai border.
Still embarrassed about thinking the worst of our driver, I obediently get back in the car for the three and a half hour drive to the border. Private car is a more expensive option ($100USD) than the public bus. But with a deadline to get to Chiang Mai, we don’t have the luxury to wait around for a later start.
The rising sun provides only filtered grey light, and rain begins to beat down on the car. Accelerating into bends on this windy mountain road, our driver skids along the surface. With no seat belt in the back, it’s as if I am in a washing machine. Tossed in every direction, I begin to feel slightly off. The car heats up in our driver’s attempt to de-fog his windows. Soon it is sweltering. Sadly, I can no longer claim I have never experienced motion sickness as I leap from the car into the torrential rain and be sick. With only half an hour to go, I return to my position in the back and hope to make it to the border.
Somehow, the rain increases. It is now an extreme torrential downpour. We step out from the car park with our backpacks. Our driver thankfully has sorted all our paper work and all we require is a stamp. In minutes, we are officially no longer in Myanmar and have to cross the bridge, barely able to see 2 metres in front of us. We dash through the rain and make it to the other side and into Thailand. First leg of our journey complete and it’s only 9:50am. We search the streets for food and a way to the bus station.
Mae Sai has very little on offer in regards to food and we quickly settle for a fresh pizza. Whilst waiting for the pizza, we notice red shuttle buses going up and down the road towards the border. On closer inspection, we discover that they take you to the bus station. The half-eaten pizza is re-boxed and we jump aboard and head to the bus station.
I am slightly worried that we won’t be able to get a seat to Chang Mai because of the festival, and I let out a sigh of relief as we claim the last two seats on the 2:30pm bus with Green Bus. It will be a four and a half hour journey, meaning we will arrive at 7pm with plenty of time to enjoy Loy Krathong Festival.
There is little to do at Mae Sai bus station for three hours, so some people-watching commences. I re-open my pizza and observe the constant flow of buses to Chiang Rai, the shutte buses to the border, monks sorting through their possessions, families taking turns for a nap. I notice only another 2 westerners floating around the bus station besides ourselves.
At 2:25pm our bus shows up and we scamper aboard. The last leg of our journey to Chiang Mai! I am excited to have the day of travel nearly at an end. I drift in and out as we move through check points, Chiang Rai and towns I do not know the name of. From afar, I can see lanterns floating into the sky. My exhaustion turns into anticipation. I can barely contain my excitement as my legs bounce up and down in my seat, a large smile planted over my face.
I disembark into the dark. I’m in shock that we actually made the journey in one day and in time for the parade and festival. And this gives me the energy I need to continue on to our final transportation for the day. Running on adrenaline and in no mood to barter, we settle on 120 baht tuk tuk ride to our guesthouse. Tuk tuk is definitely the best mode of transport to navigate through Chiang Mai during Loy Krathong. We speed through traffic caused by road diversions and make it in less than a quarter of the time a car would have.
Fifteen hours door to door I am at the guesthouse. Five minutes later and I am checked in, showered and ready to explore.