The time I was almost kidnapped in Thailand...
"Go gentle, its my first time..."

A while back, on my gap year, I went travelling. Did a standard route with a few variations, ended up meeting a friend in Thailand, 4/6ths of the way round. We rented motorbikes and explored the hills above Chang Mai. One day, riding (read racing) back from a waterfall, I had an explosive blowout, thankfully (-ish, I think) on the rear wheel. Cut to me fighting the now fish-tailing bike to a slower speed, before going into the ditch. Ankle deep in mud, and possibly some of the erstwhile contents of my bowels, I looked up to see the now-distant speck of my friend flying over the horizon like the proverbial bat-out-of-hell.

“Shit.” I think. “He wont stop until he gets back to the guesthouse (10 miles away), and even then he will wait for a while, assuming himself to be the victor, before even considering what had happened to me.”
Long story short, I pushed the bike. It was mostly downhill and the bike wasn't too cumbersome. I passed through several villages and no one batted an eyelid, except the kids. And of course they chased me and occasionally threw things at me. I realise now that I should have stopped and asked someone in a house in one of the villages – a loud white boy in distress would be (and was) a good way to be rescued.

Anyway, about half way back, and I'm clear of the the latest mobbing and ritual humiliation meted out by the 6 year olds. I'm pushing the bike still, and a pickup truck drives by, and stops. At this point I am tired, hot (did I tell you about the heat, and the humidity...) and ready for any angel to rescue me. There were three of them and they didn't speak much English, but I shouted the name of the village I needed to go to and indicated in its general direction. Much smiling and nodding. Bike is put in back of truck, which contains chains, knives, ropes and cages – no joke of a lie – although maybe just coincidentally.
I am put in front, with two of them, the other rides with the bike. Another mile or so and we get to the crossroads; it is right to the village and they go left. Naïve, I turn to the driver and say “no, that way.”
The guy between me and the driver (perhaps placement is their first mistake?) says “no, give me your bag.” He's smiling, but he is talking in a cold, clear voice. This is the moment I begin to want to re-texture my trousers. He tries to grab the rucksack out of my hand, the driver slows the car as he fumbles for his knife, and I panic and go for the doorhandle. It's an old Hilux-type vehicle, and there's no central locking. I fall out of the door, dragging the tnuc who is still holding the bag halfway out, me dragging on the track as they pull to a halt. Right outside someone's house. BONUS.

Cue, screaming, people emerging, tnuc letting go of the bag, man on the back swiftly pushing the bike off the pickup, leaving the tailgate down to obscure the numberplate as they high-tailed it out of there (-scuse the pun). In all fairness, I owe the safety of my bag and its contents (and possibly my life) to these people, but they just walked back into their houses as if nothing had happened. Perhaps it is a regular occurrence around there?

Anyway, I continued to push the bike, back to the crossroads and onto the (only) road leading to the village where the bike shop and guesthouse was. I get to the bottom of the hill, push the bike along a flat bit, and then the road starts to rise. It starts to rain, big, fat droplets of monsoonal deluge. I say this because I happily could not tell if I was crying or not (pussy). I climbed onto the bike, and slipping and sliding on the dead tyre and now increasingly damaged rim, I rode up the hill, taking a cars width of the road as the rear of the bike slid. About a mile away from the village I meet my friend riding the other way (through the storm, coming to find me, bless him). That was the moment when I felt that I was safe again, although, to be honest, I think I had my narrow escape a lot earlier.

Apologies for length, in appeasement and consolation, it was much longer if you were actually there. ;-]
(IdlePeAcEsign if trouble were my mistress, i'd send her to them, Mon 23 Aug 2010, 23:17, 2 replies)

Cor!
Yah for crappy old trucks without locks.
(boozehound is drinking your bar dry, Tue 24 Aug 2010, 6:11, closed)

Ahh Chang Mai
Known for it's lady boys and Elephants, If I remember rightly i went there for the lady boys...kidding. I went there to get to Laos if my memory serves me right. I would have hated to get lost in the hills, if the wildlife doesn't get you the locals will. I'll give ya a click, reminds me of the best days of my life.
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Tue 24 Aug 2010, 16:51, closed)