Thailand - A WAR zone

I knew it could be dangerous, but I had no idea it could get this bad. When the guys at the guest house heard that I was heading to the border on a motorbike they notified me of some Opium druglords that are fighting the authorities near the border and suggested that I should stick to the main road and the main cities and that I should only travel at day time. All foot-trek tours in the area are cancelled till everything cools down. I’ve also heard some tourists talk about some terrorist attack down south near the Malaysien border. I thought - “Nothing to it… feels like home…” but then…

It’s everywhere, it’s everyone, and there’s no way you can escape. Believe me, I’ve tried, but they are all over the place. They all carry guns, kids-women-old folks. Huge caliber guns, guns that makes your stomach turn inside out and your head spin. It lurks for you in every corner, at every stop-light and you’re bound to get hit. It’s only a matter of time. The first one really took me by surprise, since I had no idea it was coming. That first time really hurt and I was sure that it’s the end of all things. The shock! the horror! After a very long recovery I tried thinking of a way I could defend against them the next time. It’s actually worse when you’re aware of the danger, since you become extremely paranoid, trying to watch everyone’s step all the time, trying to predict where it would come from next. The cliche’ argues that if you can’t fight them then join them so after a small exchange of words and cash with the local armsdealer I’m now packed and loaded. I carry a huge gun and a fair amount of ammo. I’m ready for WAR. Come and get me, if you dare… (and they dare…)

It’s Thailand’s New Year and for some bizzare historic event it’s also their water festival. It started 3 days ago at the beginning of the week. Water everywhere - huge water guns, huge buckets of stinking water with mud and Buddha knows what. They really love people who ride motorbikes. Riding to Mea-Sai I was hit around 10 times an hour, and it isn’t a small wash. You’re soaking wet, your money and dry clothes are gone, and you’re wishing that the temprature was 50c instead of the louzy 40c. When you’re dry, you jusy might try and nod that you don’t want to join the party. But some assholes don’t care, and once you’re a little wet it’s a free-for-all sign - all you can do is drive up slowly smiling so they’ll only hit you, and not your bag. It might sound fun, but it’s very humiliating. I’ve seen tourists lose all their money and passport, businessmen cry over important documents, dressed up ladies try and unsuccessfully stretch their clothes off their bodies so the intimate parts don’t show. Gosh, I never thought those quiet calm Thais had such a sadistic side in them. At first you want to cross the border and never come back but after 2 days of being constantly wet I don’t give a fuck…