Many thanks to Jess Metson for the blog below of her recent Tuk Tuk Adventure. Jess and her family were our very first 11 Day Adventure travellers back in 2017 and recently returned for another adventure on three wheels through the magical mountains of Northern Thailand.
Nearly eight years ago, my parents and I went on a holiday with The Tuk Tuk Club. Holiday, actually, feels slightly reductive… It was my first experience of Asia, and the moment that I completely fell head over heels for Thailand, its culture, sights, people and food. It was a tour experience that completely stole our hearts and that we have not stopped talking about in the best part of a decade.
When my partner Ed came into our lives, he would hear about the stories and a well-rehearsed selection of our TukTuk-related-highlights… Eventually, we decided. We were going to do it again. With Ed this time, of course.
There’s a strange feeling that comes with repeating a holiday, particularly a tour… The idea can hang in front of you for months like a dangling temptation, but going for it sometimes felt a little taboo, a little stigmatised… A little risky. What, you’re going to repeat something rather than see something new? Are people judging my choices? What if it doesn’t live up to last time?
It was quickly decided, in the bubbling excitement of receiving our confirmation emails, that we simply had to accept this was a different holiday. New memories. It isn’t meant to be a carbon copy, and nor would we want it to be. This tour held a piece of our hearts, and it was like counting down to being reunited with a beloved old friend. The night before our plane, I could scarcely sleep. It was as though I knew what to expect but also had no clue, simultaneously.
The first few days of the trip were dripping with nostalgia: the comforting sight of the TukTuk that had safely taken us through the mountains before; the smell of the warm air and trees that our first hotel nestled in, in the heart of Mae Wang; the chance to catch up with the Tuk Tuk Club’s lovely owner, Bruce, who’s heart and soul have gone into creating this completely unique travelling opportunity.
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Over the course of those first few days, we saw familiar places through new lenses. The roads were more built up with new homes, wooden shops and homely hotels- little villages in the surrounding areas bustling with life, in what is still an undeniably remote area. Sure, it was different to our memories of what was a very quiet place, but it was nice to see. Lots had happened in the last 8 years: as I’d grown from a newly graduated 21-year-old to a fully fledged nearing-30-year-old, the world around me hadn’t simply stopped. Not least, the adorable baby elephant we saw at the sanctuary before had flourished into an amazing creature – our hearts melted!
It was developing, new livelihoods were blossoming, and I was happy to see a beautiful area doing well. The most obvious instance was after our incredible elephant sanctuary visit, when we headed down to bamboo rafting. Our recollection of it had been a stunningly sleepy river, with us floating down alone for about 25 minutes, led by an impossibly strong young Thai person, directing our raft with a long, bamboo stick on the riverbed.
But as we arrived at the river, there was no mistaking the place had grown into itself – what was, of course, relaxing, had entered a new realm: FUN. As we jostled down for around an hour, we laughed constantly, overtaking other tourist rafts and smiling at groups of local people of all ages enjoying the water, stalls selling beer, music and the happiness of upcoming Songkran (the Thai New Year and dubbed the world’s biggest waterfight), I felt happy to experience it anew- being splashed by young’ns and waving at others. And I realised that my initial doubt of ‘repetition’ didn’t really exist: how can something be the same, when the world never stops changing? It was a privilege to see it bloom.
This came from the number of years that lay in between our two tours. We had let enough time pass to let things change – but as we dried off, I was left with an energised feeling that I would happily come back to these places I loved every year, even if it had stayed locked in time.
As we continued on our journey, driving our line of six Tuk Tuk’s into the rich mountains surrounding Doi Inthanon (Thailand’s highest point) it also became clear that those years could not hold onto every detail of this tour, anyway. I couldn’t remember each beautiful part of this vast forest land, or each twisting bend and exhilarating hairpin turn. It was like returning to a theme park ride where I remembered the concept, but I’d forgotten the secret turns.
Of course, it wasn’t possible for me to forget the beauty of Doi Inthanon, its luscious forest and the wonderful Karen Hill tribes that live around there; it felt almost homely to be back… But two days later, as our joyful and motivating tour guides (who had grown up in Northern Thailand themselves) rallied us for our longest drive yet, I realised I’d forgotten much larger parts of this tour. Literally whole areas had slowly faded over those years. Where was Mae Sariang??? And there’s a lake at Mae Hong Son- what? It felt like my only memory of that area had been the gorgeous Fern Resort (an eco-hotel outside Mae Hong Son, with beautiful bamboo rooms inset into nature itself).
For that reason, I felt so grateful to be revisiting the Tuk Tuk Club again. It was like the warm hug type of feeling you get from looking through old photo albums you found in the loft – except I was here, soaking in the places in real time, and enjoying the lightbulb moments of recognition. Old memories of watching the water buffalo wading through Mae Sariang’s river from our balcony, or reminiscing for the first time about releasing a little paper boat onto Mae Hong Son’s Nong Kham lake for mum’s birthday (which we had celebrated on our first trip). It felt kind of grounding to realise the luxury of having so many wonderful memories that I couldn’t even hold on to all of them.
Not only that, but I was making brand new memories every day as well. We visited new places and restaurants during our long driving days, ingesting new perspectives of the beautiful villages and communities that lined our route. Seeing more of the ‘real’ Thailand away from the more traditional tourist track – including the bemused smiles of local people as they watch our bright orange convoy roll by and greeting us warmly with the welcoming nature that makes me love Thailand so much. (On an aside point, Thai people are incredible, caring and truly create the Land of Smiles).
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I was making new connections with the people from across the globe that were in our tour group, listening to new life stories and funny experiences. I was learning new things from the wealth of knowledge our tour guides held – like what interesting creature made the crazy sound that had made Ed and I jump out of our skin the night before, and laugh like idiots as we recreated it for the rest of the holiday… I was revelling too in the wonder that came from seeing these places for the first time, through Ed’s eyes. I loved being there with him alongside my parents, too.
Watching Ed take my Dad through the famously snaking curves of the endless kilometres between Mae Hong Son and Pai was fantastic (I drove my Mum behind him, as we gave my Dad a break from the drivers seat). Similarly, I felt lucky to take in its awe-inspiring views myself for a second time. It’s a route that is famed by motorcycle riders for a reason, that’s all I’ll say. It was still so beautiful, despite a heavy mist that hung in the sky that day reminiscent of an English winter’s morning. The mountains were silhouetted in the distance like an unfinished Bob Ross painting.
Just before Pai, we stopped at Lod Cave – a great addition to the tour route since our last journey here. Its expanse was surprising, whilst also offering nooks and crannies to explore and fish to feed. It was another example of the benefits of revisiting areas you love: it’s simply impossible to have seen it all. The more I travel, the more I realise each country is such an intricate tapestry that one visit to each of its corners is never enough to really appreciate the detail.
Revisiting Pai (which I had also done alone, since that first trip) is always a pleasure. It offered another opportunity to soak in its fun traveller vibe and excellent street food, but also a chance to explore on our own away from the group on a free day. I presented the idea of a couple of hours walk with Ed to the Big Bhudda that sat in the trees just above the town, that I knew offered insane views of the landscape around us.
The heat was intense, and our ill-choice of flip-fop footwear was taking its toll – but we made it. We turned around, sweating, and… Well, the view was beautiful, but perhaps not as endless as I had remembered. Pai sat in a slightly yellow haze, that had seemed to be following us the last couple of days.
The haze was from the forest fires that we had seen lots of as we had followed the mountainous curves; smoking embers of trees and charred grounds that spread for miles up to the roadside. Our guides explained it was a century-old (although illegal) practice of purposefully setting alight the forests to clear the ground for new growth. It felt bad and worrying, but their assurance that the forest always survives rang true as we watched these juxtaposing landscapes: blackened floors at the bottom, and green-leaved trees still flourishing atop. They were alive.
It was an interesting part of seeing the tour route at a different time of year, and a theme that followed us when we left Pai to head back to Mae Wang. Our convoy flowed on winding roads, following the bends of the river below, against another hazy backdrop. Was it sad that we didn’t have the crystal clear blue skies I remembered, that created breath-taking viewpoints that were worthy of Microsoft Screensavers? Sure, that would always be nice. But this new time of year gave us other things to experience, too.
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Throughout our whole trip, armies of of cicadas had cheered us on deafeningly from the sideline, invisible in the trees but louder than you could imagine. Sudden rainstorms of April had us rolling down the plastic sides of our Tuk Tuks, despite the rain being warm enough to dance in. Much more often though, the heat of the breeze was a pleasant addition of the hot season (November’s refreshing air last trip had us wrapped in blankets on some driving days). We would have had none of those experiences, if we hadn’t have come back.
It was that gratitude that filled me for most of my time in the driver’s seat on that long road back to Tuk Tuk HQ. My heart was full. Fears that the trip wouldn’t hit ‘as good’ as the first time were unnecessary: we had holidayed for our hearts, and in doing so there was only ever going to be positive outcomes. I had seen new, revisited old and experienced other.
This trip had been so different, despite it being the same tour – in a genuinely lovely way. And in the backseat, to a soundtrack of our favourite tunes on the Bluetooth speaker, I tried to soak in as much as I could of the communities we passed – each offering just a single snapshot of life in Northern Thailand.
And I would come back again, again, again, just to learn more.
If Jess’s tales of Northern Thailand appeal, then why not come and join us on an 11 Day Adventure through the mountains and communities of Northern Thailand