Make a Run for the Border!

Because Thailand doesn't have an embassy or a councilate in Yemen, I was forced to get a regular 30-day visa when I entered the country. Thailand's visa extension rule is simple: you have to cross a border before your visa runs out, and when you do you get an additional 30-day stamp. You used to be able to do this as many times as you wanted, but they recently put a new 90-day restriction in place (more on this later). Even with the new restriction, “border-runs” are part of the Thai Expat way of life, and I got to experience it for the first time this weekend.

(Note: As most of the time during this adventure was spent in a car, the pictures on this site are from Mae Sai, a Thai-Burmese bordertown that I had to get to to get the stamp, and have no relation to the story. Also, if you are reading this because you need to get a Thai visa extension from Pai or Mae Hong Son, then I encourage you to read this.)

My two options were Mae Sai, a border town about 9 hours away from Mae Hong Son, or Mae Sot, another border town (the place where I first arrived-- you remember, good food and bird-shitty temples) that is about 16 hours away. At first glance the choice seems obvious, but my experience was so lousy getting to Mae Sai that I am going to take the extra hours on the bus next time I have to go through this BS.

First, we had to get to Pai. I never wrote about Pai, but I will say that I spent one night there and it is competing with Mukulla, Yemen, as my least favorite town in the world. It's the Hard Rock Cafe of Thailand-- carefully set up to give tourists the impression of what they think that Thailand should be without providing the inconvenience of actual Thailand. The striking thing about the town is that the only Thai people are selling things on the street-- selling things that no self-respecting Thai person would actually wear (aside from the people who are selling them) or own. There are a few Thai's who head to Pai thinking that since all the Westerns go there it must be “trendy”. And when you are there, you get about as much of a feel for Thai culture as you would watching Andrew Lloyd Webber's rock-opera remake of “The King and I”. The only thing more annoying then the town are the smelly dreadlocked hippies with hot shorts and halter tops wandering around and saying things like “Thailand, man, it's like such a trip... I can like totally feel my inner consciousness and aura bleeding out. Hey, let's hit that theme coffee house back there.”

So you can imagine my horror when getting off the bus (three hours from Mae Hong Son, my hometown) of being told among the hippies at the travel agency who wanted to “experience Laos” (doesn't anyone just GO anywhere anymore?) that there were no seats on the Mae Sai-Pai bus.

Well, actually there was one. But I couldn't ditch my housemate Sabrina, could I?

Turns out I could. After I told her three times to take the ticket, I ran back and bought it for myself using the thin justification that my visa was about to run out the next day and she had about three more days (a choice which saved me 500 baht, as it turns out.) I just couldn't stand the idea of a night in Pai. The last time we stayed in Pai we had to share an overpriced freezing cabin. Once the blankets got warm it was okay until the hippies came back and started blasting Coldplay and Dave Matthews while playing along on the guitar. (Where did they even GET the stupid guitars? I was shoving books down my pants to get around the weight limit.)

Anyway, my car left at 10PM. I did the math in my head. Six hours there, six back, and one hour in Pai. For those of you with a college degree that is thirteen hours. If I was leaving at 10, then I should get back at 11, twelve at the latest-- right? I checked with the women and she told me that the bus got back at four or five.

Say what?

She pulled out a map and showed me that the trip to Chiang Khong (a border town on Laos) was about eight hours away. That's great, I told her, but I wasn't going to Laos, I was going to Mae Sai, which was SIX hours away. She agreed with me, it was six hours, but FIRST the bus was going to Chiang Khong, and then swung back to Mae Sai to get there at around 7 in the morning. And of course at this point there was nothing to be done.

I wasn't upset about the time, I was actually more worried about the 4 o'clock arrival time. The last bus out of this layer of Hell called Pai was at 4. Would I miss the bus? A quick conference with the driver and the woman turned back with a smile and told be that sometimes the bus was late. The Mae Hong Son bus, I asked? That didn't make me feel better. No, she said, the Mae Sai bus. Maybe it would be back at four, and I could get my other bus, and then smiled as if everything was okay. I hate Pai. And now it looked like I might have to spend another night there after all.

With this new deadline in place, I personally did a hippie round-up and herded everyone onto the van and we left two minutes early. Not much can be said about the bus except that it was freezing. The brousure for the visa-run “express” advertised an “air-conditioned van” but unfortunatly this was not a plus in Thailand during the cold season. And the bus was naturally air-conditioned-- there was no heat. Mae Sot was looking better and better every minute.

My body was numb by the time we got to Chiang Khong. Although I wasn't technically a customer of the establishment that we stopped at to drop the Laos “experiencers” off, I decided that no one needed to know that and took advantage of their offer of free coffee and breakfast. Free coffee, anyway, but the water heater was empty. I poured the rest of my water into the thing and started to warm it up. As soon as I did this, the hippie scum started to spoon instant coffee into cups and stood around the maker. I chased them away with my empty water bottle and told them to go find their own damn hot water. I made no friends on that trip.

We finally got to the border, and I had a private talk with each of the riders begging them to return on time. I made it sound like there was 30 starving refugees waiting with tears in their eyes for my return, and even a slight delay would get them hauled off to participate in unspeakable forced labour. (In truth, they would have been tickled to find that I was stuck in Pai and they had no class.) They agreed (I am sure that I had an unpleasant nickname at this point) and we all went off to get a new stamp.

I decided that since I was there, I may as well go into Burma. If you are reading this and still planning on making the trip, (just don't use aYa!) then I recommend that you give Burma a miss and instead head up the hill to check out the impressive temples. There was one that I didn't have time to go to which was on top of a hill and gives a great view (so the guidebook tells me) of Burma and Mae Sai. Burma, on the other hand, isn't really that impressive although it does feel different. The people were more... buzzy. It was like they all had spent the morning drinking coffee. I don't know if that was because I had just been in a car for the last ten hours and was experiencing a bit of culture shock. Burma pointedly drives on the right (a jab to Britain, who used to colonize them) and also sets their clock 30 minutes ahead of Thailand, for reasons that I don't know. To get to Burma I had to surrender my passport and they printed out a temporary passport with the scariest picture of myself that I have ever seen. I really hope that they don't keep that stuff on record.

Everyone was on time, thank God, and by 8:30 we were off. The trip back was uneventful, except that I got sick on the trip and everyone hated me so much by that time that I had to beg three times for a tissue. I swear that the driver was trying to make me throw up-- he seemed to be pumping the accelerator in time with the music. I had taken a ton of seasickness pills but they were practically placebos. I hate third world medicine.

I got back to Pai at 2:30 and ran into Sabrina a few minutes later, and I gave her a few tips (wear all your clothes, grab the front seat as soon as the Laos people leave, bring your own water for coffee, etc) and we sat to wait for the 4:00 bus, which was thirty minutes late. By 9 o'clock I was back in my room at Ban Nai Soi, cuddled up with a cat and a book and another 30 days before I have to go through this BS again.