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You think it's annoying here? At least you can scroll down, ignore it if you choose. At least you're not trying to sleep through a dozen stupified, opium-smoking, freakishly-AWAKE-after-four-hours-of-trekking-straight-uphill-into-the-mountains people who are inches away from your head and separated only through a bamboo wall.

Yesterday, Kip and I began a two day trek into the mountains of northern Thailand, beyond Chiang Mai. It started off poorly as the truck picked us up for the first leg of the trip and we circled town gathering trekkers. First there was the dreaded party-Pom, who is starting to age and therefore must drink and smoke and sleep with as many people as possible before they become too decrepit to move. He would not shut up about his Thai whiskey. How it wasted him. How good it was. How he wanted to pick some up to bring into the mountains. It's colour. It's taste. It's superiority to whiskey elsewhere in the world. As we drove from one guesthouse to the next picking people up the truck became really crowded. When everyone was loaded in, there were people standing on the back of the bed, outside.

We wound our way through the countryside and into the hills where we stopped for lunch. Then we grabbed our bags and went to climb onto our transportation up the first part of the hill: elephants. I adore these creatures. They are massive, but somehow possess grace. And though they are grey and wrinkly and have spiky little hairs all over, somehow they are beautiful. Must all be in their sweet eyes. I had mixed feelings about being up there. It was a really unique experience. Kip kept saying "I can't believe where we are" and it was truly special to be trapsing through the jungle on the back of an elephant. But everytime he slowed down or went off to grab a quick snack of bamboo, the guide would swat his legs with a switch!

We reached the end of the riding and put on our packs for the acsent into the hills. Oh. My. God. The heat was oppressive. I don't know if I've used these words before to describe my experiences in the heat, but there is no better word. In seconds we were dripping with sweat, labouring and gasping for breath. Our guide was sprinting up the muddy slopes and I could barely convince my legs to lift themselves. Finally, after about an hour, I gave in and had one of the guides carry my pack. I felt so ashamed, but I didn't think I could make myself go any further with the oddly shaped rucksack pulling on my shoulders. Even still it was torturous. The bugs, the heat, the humidity, the slippery track, the prickly vines that stuck tiny thorns in your skin if you brushed them. Once we were in the home stretch and had the tribal village in sight it grew a little easier. My spirit brightened.

Our accomodation for the night was a bamboo hut with three rooms. We climbed a bit of a wooden ramp and to the right was our sleeping room, with mats laid out on the floor and mossie nets hanging from the ceiling. Passing that room you came to a deck, with views of the hills, village and surrounding mountains. To the left was the room used as a kitchen (though there was no eletricity) and another room that seemed to have no purpose until later that evening.

We all lined up to use the shower (a hose with a shower nozzle on it) and, once clean, amused ourselves. For some that meant cracking open their beers. For others it meant strumming the guitar gently. For Kip and I it meant wandering from viewpoint to viewpoint, snapping photographs of the village and the mountains of Burma, drenched in purple and blue by the fading light and draped in heavy clouds. We were dying to eat dinner and head straight to sleep. Dinner took forever. Finally it arrived, completely vegetarian, much to Kip's relief. Afterwards children from the village came, dressed in native costumes. They danced and sang to us in their our language (which is not Thai, as they have migrated from Burma and speak their own dialect). I snapped photographs and afterwards many of the children crowded around as I displayed the pictures on my camera's LCD.

We got changed and laid down, hoping to fall asleep instantly. This was definitely wishful thinking. We were in one of the most serene places on earth. But these fools had no idea where they were. They may as well have been back in Bangkok at a pub. They drank. They peed off the deck. They talked as loudly as possible, though everyone could have heard a whisper up there. They went into the next room to smoke large amounts of opium, like it was some kind of amusement park ride and you just had to smoke this local plant or you wouldn't experience the whole occasion. Worst of all, they sang. Unfortunately there was a very limited catalogue for these people to choose from. They seemed to know very few songs between them. No one really knew how to play guitar, they were just all taking turns strumming out dribble. And since no one knew any one song all the way through most songs consisted of many la las or na nas, followed by a belting roar of the chorus:

HEY JUDE la la na na na na na na na na na na na na na REMEMBER la na na na na na na na na na na na na MAKE IT BETTER!

knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor knock knock knockin on heaven's dooooooor (this went on and on, just this fragment of the song)

desperado la la la la la la la la SENSES you've been na na na na na na

buffalo soldier in la na na na nAmerica brana na na la na na

let me be let me be let me be let me be speaking words la na na let me be

WELCOME TO THE HOTEL CALIFORNIA such a na na na na na la la la

No woman no cry no woman no cry do you remember la la la na na

After a short period we wanted to kill ourselves. It was so obnoxious. It was embarrassing. I was completely mortified to be with these people. We slept very little.

Today there was a trecherous hike down a hill was just one muddy slip to the next. Our machete-wielding guide made us bamboo walking sticks which just went flailing each time we slipped. Eventually we came out to a waterfall where we were given a generous ten minute break before heading out again. When we finally reached the bottom we hopped into rubber rafts and did some white water rafting down the river. It was pretty tame rafting, but was still quite enjoyable. Then we switched for bamboo rafts and continued down a lazy, calm stretch.

I can't say that I regret the experience. I'm glad I went and saw what I did. The mountains are absolutely stunning, just hard to appreciate when you're whizzing by them to keep up with the group. In the few moments of muted noise we enjoyed as the sun set over Burma we were able to fleetingly appreciate the setting. The villages and their people seem so gracious and lovely. I just wish I could have enjoyed a night of peace in the far reaches of this country. As always, I am horrified by the lack of respect and decency some travellers have for the areas they are visiting. I can only say that the village we visited had been totally devastated by the countless trekkers that had passed through.

Heading to Laos tomorrow.