“You can check out, but you can never leave.” - Hotel California, The Eagles
A tattoo is to a punk what a marathon is to a runner what Pai is to a backpacker. Pai, a small town three-hours north of Chiang Mai is an oasis for travel addicts - a rehab of bountiful excursions- waterfalls, hot springs, trekking, nightlife and hammocks galore. Motorbikes are the only form of transport.
Shay and I intended to stay three nights in our bungalow at a hostel called SpicyPai, but we missed our bus on the third day and ended up staying a week. Peter-pan travelers stay in Pai forever and after our difficulty navigating the public transport, we understood why and how.
Every morning after that we woke up in hammocks. Thick fog slowly eaten away by the sun revealed rice paddies in front of jungle fauna in front of mountains in front of thick clouds. Layers and layers of beauty like you have never seen anywhere else in the world. By the end of the week, a cold shower and goodbye to friends were in order and we were off to see the islands.