Border Runs to Burma

A soon expiring visa, and nothing to do, I took off for the border with Thailand and Burma. I rented a motorcycle because I didn't want to deal with the sticky salt smell of a bus and that feeling of tight elevators. My renter was drunk at 10:30 a.m. when I showed up, it was the Chinese New Year afterall, I thought. After spending half an hour filling out paperwork and trying to talk with him I realized he wasn't Chinese, just a drunk.

The border, a 5 hour cruise, over a slick jungle mountain highway. I took the back roads, staying off the super-highway. No tourist attractions here, just a more untamed version of the dense verdant undergrowth on every hillside. Thick creeping vines and palms the size of small roofs, impossible to see through, dark at border's edge; the last known refuge of wild tigers.

Strict is an understatement for Thailand's visa regulations, like all laws here, the punishment is steep, and jail is always part of the equation. That's why it's such a safe country. Would you run drugs or steal from your business partner if the minimum was 10 years and a 30,000$ fine. An Australian journalist self-published a book and only sold 7 copies, but he criticised the King's son and is now serving 3 years. You might be thinking why? but that question isn't going to produce the answer, the better question is "They don't have the problem do they?" I like having the freedom to walk home alone, in a dark-alley shortcut and not worry about getting mugged.

I hopped the border the next morning, and in no more than 15 seconds was mobbed by that oppressive horde of junk salesmen catering to tourism with worthless trinkets. It is a desperation that only striking poverty can produce. Burma's military regime is credited as one of the worst in the world, and horror stories abound in northern Thailand. I can't spend anytime here, and leave after 10 minutes, collecting only a visa stamp. Luckily, Thailand's entry laws are more lax and as long as you leave the country, pay your fee to Burma, Laos, or Cambodia they'll let you back in for another 15 days for free. Even if the laws in the country are strict, it's still a better option than anything else in Southeast Asia.

So I enjoy the cool, fresh jungle wind, which is normally steeped in humidity, and the rugged foothills of the Himalayas surrounding me, and the road twisting and winding like dangling question marks. The bike, a small one-only 125CC, doesn't have the kick I need to power up the S-curves, but I can still feel the road, and my mind drifts with the bike; in, out, around, and up; gas, clutch, brake, and more gas. Simple. Freedom's relative.