Mersey Magic

After a filling breakfast and several delays, we eventually found ourselves ensconced in a songthaew with 2 quiet people and 5 energetic Israelis. I’d met a number of Israelis on my travels and, thus far, they hadn’t really left a great impression. Many other travellers I’d met discussed them with same contempt I hold for the French and, while I don’t like to make sweeping generalisations nor judge people without getting to know them, my heart was sinking as we set off. The Israelis were happily jabbering away in Hebrew (a language that seems to need speaking at high volume!) and I suspected they might remain a group apart from the rest of us. The quiet couple at the back seemed to be very into each other and I didn’t hold out much hope of getting really pally with them…although, in retrospect, they probably just didn’t fancy shouting over the engine noise and the Hebrew. However, the dynamics of the group hadn’t been finalised and, as we stopped at one last place, we gained a complement of three Scousers. As soon as I heard their accents trading irrepressible Scouse banter, I knew we were going to have a good time. Dave and I grinned at each other and introduced ourselves to Mark, Carl and Rachael. We spent the two hour journey to the start of the trek quizzing each other about our previous travels, future plans and lives back home. Once we’d stopped to have lunch, we found that the ‘quiet couple’ turned out to be Jo and Jez from Worcester – and they were perfectly sociable once they could make themselves heard.
Our trekking trail headed straight into lush jungle and wound its way up the side of a steep hill. Our guide Kai wasn’t exactly at the peak of physical fitness and we made mostly gentle progress on our ascent. At points where the path ahead was clear, one or other of the lads would force the pace a little up to the next rest-stop, so that soon enough, those that wanted to were showing signs of exertion and feeling like we’d done some proper trekking. Off in the distance we could hear elephants calling – along with unusual plant species, tropical insect and bird-calls the jungle was conspiring to remind us that weren’t in our accustomed space. Through breaks in the canopy we could see forested mountainsides and shady river valleys that looked like nothing you’d find in Britain’s open spaces and I think we all felt satisfyingly adventurous. Under the verdant canopy, the fierce afternoon heat was bearable, but as we neared the ridge and the vegetation thinned out, we soon found ourselves at the untender mercies of the sun.
Eventually, sticky and hot, we rolled into our night’s destination – a dusty, palm-shack village, in a beautiful location at the end of a ridge overlooking the jungle. I took first dibs on a cold shower, while I was still feeling overheated enough to enjoy it and eventually, we were leaning on the balcony of our longhouse, drinking refreshing Chang beer and salivating at the thought of dinner. The local kids were soon hanging around, asking for pens, sweets and even Baht. I have reservations about rotting kids’ teeth or encouraging a begging culture – but I’d come prepared for these little monkeys. The novelty balloons I’d bought at the market earlier in the day went down a treat and the air soon resounded with excited squeals as they chased each other round the place, jousting and bopping each other over the head.
We all witnessed a memorable sunset behind the seemingly endless mountains to the West and eventually settled in around the camp fire, drinking beer, telling stories and chowing down on some fine nosh, whipped up by Kai. We were entertained by magic shows and singing children and there was even a masseuse for those feeling the strain of the hills in their legs. All of this, of course, was a useful means of supplementing the meagre incomes of the villagers and, while you couldn’t help but see the impact Western trekkers had had on village culture, it was mediated by the fact that we were at least making it worth their while to continue to live in their traditional setting. I didn’t feel as ripped off as I had done in Vietnam because, while ostensibly they were there to try and make money, at least some of the villagers sat round the fire with us and smoked their banana-leaf cigarettes and we were able to converse with one or two who could speak some English. The other nice thing about our fireside meal was being able to get to know our Israeli companions. Lior, Smadar, Cfir, Aviv and Eyal all turned out to be really pleasant and I immediately regretted my uncharitable thoughts from earlier in the day. I felt that the outgoing amiability of our Liverpudlian companions was the key to a really good group dynamic and, by the end of the evening, we all felt comfortable talking to one another. There seemed no limit to Mark and Carl’s capacity for enjoying themselves and they wanted to ensure everyone was having as good a time as they were. I also really enjoyed talking to Rachael about her former job as a teacher and her current role with challenging kids.
Some time before midnight, I definitely felt too ‘Changed’ to hold conversation and snuck off to bed with thoughts of seeing a sunrise as glorious as the sunset.