The road from Chiang Mai to Pai, in northern Thailand, covers 762 curves. It also crosses three mountain passes, meaning all those twists and turns are climbing or descending at the same time. This is not a combination that makes for a comfortable ride for someone (Heather) who can be prone to car-sickness. Forgoing the Dramamine tablets we had purchased in a local pharmacy the day before (“They’ll make me drowsy and I don’t want to miss anything along the way”) and despite her preventative measures, such as wearing pressure-point wrist bands, sipping ginger-ale and even using mentholated essential oils, she spent most of the ride curled into a ball on the seat next to me in the minivan, missing everything.  Upon arriving in Pai, while Heather recovered a bit, I negotiated a taxi to take us outside town to our chosen guesthouse, which promised views over the rice terraces to the surrounding mountains. They did not disappoint. We entered our room and headed immediately to the terrace off the back. From the green metal railing, over the deep green foliage just off the terrace, past the faded green of the royal palms marking the property boundary, across the green of the rice paddies just beyond and all the way to the pine tree-covered mountains surrounding town, it was simply stunning. We sat spellbound, neither of us talking (no small feat for Heather).

Eventually, other colors started to show themselves. A farmer on the far side of the rice paddy, only visible due to his red shirt. A pair of white egrets taking flight. Several black butterflies flitted amongst the foliage inches in front of us. A red dragonfly alit on a palm frond.

 At first, upon arriving in town, we wondered if we had made a mistake by staying so far outside town, and possibly missing out on all the action there. But, after arranging to hire a motorbike for the five days we’d be here, and riding into town for dinner and some groceries (beer and wine), we were convinced we had made the right choice. Settling into the lounge chairs on our terrace later, we sipped our “groceries”, watched the setting sun light up the mountaintops, listened to the crickets and other singing insects come alive while a few lights from town came on and twinkled in the dusk. Over the course of the next nine days (we extended our stay) we drove around the valley seeing waterfalls, wats (Buddhist temples), and other sights, always happily returning to our terrace each afternoon to soak in those views (after soaking in the pool) before heading into town to sample all the wonderful dishes from Pai’s famous Walking Street food stalls.

One particular dish stood out for me. A specialty only found in northern Thailand, Khao Soi is a spicy bowl of rich coconut milk broth, infused with generous amounts of lemongrass and lime leaf, served over yellow egg noodles, topped with succulent chicken and vegetables, then finally garnished with crispy fried noodles. Small dishes alongside include sliced shallots and fresh lime wedges to balance the richness of the coconut broth, and a dab of chili paste. However, with all the Khao Soi dishes I enjoyed in Chiang Mai and Pai, I couldn’t even consider adding any more spice to the bowl. By the time I slurped the last noodle and broth from the bowl, I had formed a small pile of the small, thin tissues that pass for napkins on Thai restaurant tables, soaked with the sweat and tears generated by the potent red chilies in the dish.