The photos lie about the immense heat and the overwhelming humidity of the jungle. They don't tell you of the precarious feel of mud squelching under walking boots and the pouring sweat that soaks you through in minutes, nor of thumping of the heart and blood thickly coursing through your veins as you trek on adrenaline, exhausted, wondering how it is that you haven't dropped to the ground yet.   They don't come close to showing how it feels to look up from the ground and realise you are high up in the hills, densely covered in lush green jungle, or finding upon tribal villages with huts, animals, people and the river cutting through, everyone engaged in some activity.

They probably also do not explain that the hill tribes are not the lucky beneficiaries of a life of simple idyll, unaffected by modern society; but face exclusion, lack of education and healthcare and yet are being increasingly drawn into the Thai market economy through pressures on land and the need to survive financially.

The stark irony is that we are voyeurs on their lifestyle, their traditional ways and their culture and in doing so, we are supporting their survival but also altering them, spoiling their untouchedness.  For want of a much better way of describing it.

But, overall I do think the experience is a very positive one for both sides. I learnt so much, we connected with new people, developed a dialogue and an appreciation of our vastly different experiences.  We were able to be the social beings that we are and shed the material world that absorbs us too much of the time, whilst transferring something to communities that need a little more than they can easily obtain for themselves otherwise.

I kept a journal while I was there, although I had little time to write. I also had little time to take photographs:

The one downside of a trek like this is that most shots are hurried.  I don't have time to find the detail, seek the atmosphere or wait for the right light, that particular moment I want to capture.

I'd better start at the beginning.
We left the urban rush of Bangkok on the overnight train for Chiang Mai, arriving on day 3 of our tour.  I awoke on the train, everyone else in my carriage still fast asleep in their bunks, behind curtains.  I left the cool air con for the blasting thick heat of the buffet car, windows right down, the rattle rattle of the train rushing along the tracks and the smell of scrambled eggs and coffee being served.  Through the window was this scene, at that point, the most dramatic and beautiful contrast of anything I had ever seen.

What a way to tuck into breakfast!

We stayed overnight in Chiang Mai and then started our journey by pick up truck to the Mok Fah waterfall, stopping off at a local market.  Plenty of fruit but also plenty of meat open to the hot air, fans with string dangling down rotating slowly to keep the flies away.

We stopped further along the road at a roadside café, I guess.  The food is so simple but nutritious and very delicious. Coke, is everywhere.

I could have eaten much more but decided it wasn't the best idea to go off trekking on a stomach full of egg fried rice.  We spent a lazy hour at some mineral baths, floating about in hot, slimy brown water, before coating ourselves in mosquito repellent, trekking gear and tough boots and setting off into the jungle.  I had all my camera kit on my back...

We passed some hot springs, bubbling and steaming, just as we stepped into the real thick of the jungle.  The ground was still very muddy from previous rain and here came my first encounter with leeches. Oh they creep me right out.  I'd never seen any before, and I thought they were slug-like and fat, so I wasn't prepared for skinny worm-like things that move with great menace, wriggling blindly until they land one end on a boot, lifting the other end to wriggle in the direction of any bare bit of ankle skin poking out, laughing I'm sure as they reach near the top of my sock just as I look down to my boot. And scream. "LEECHES!"  

Out came sticks and lighters, and Debs, our Argentinian tour guide, burnt the beastie off my boot before it reached my leg.  A remarkably quick Pavlovian reflex instilled itself in us all, with boot stomping frenzies occurring upon any leech sighting thereafter. It's all part of the fun.

The trek uses established tracks which local people use as trade routes and the same local people are the ones who guide us through on this bit of the tour and who let us all pile into their villages, sleep in their huts and eat their food, taking photos of their children and their quaint way of life.  

The brochure describes the trek as easy/moderate.  I would dispute that, even without a bag full of camera kit on my back.  The uphill bits feel never ending. It does get monotonous at times because the scenery doesn't change. You are closed in by the trees, brown mud and rock at your feet, pick up one foot and put it in front of the other. Then repeat on the other side. Keep going.  Watch sweat drip off the end of your nose, hear nothing but your own rasping breath and keep on going. Watch out for the "LEECHES!"  stomp stomp stomp

So after a few hours of trekking it was a huge relief to find ourselves entering the village of the first tribe we were to stay with.  It was a very small village. One dorm on stilts for us with an open air dining area below.  About 4 other huts where the families live, all on stilts.

Underneath the huts is storage, animals wandering about. Chickens, cattle and a boar chained up, dogs running about.  In a similar fashion to elsewhere in Thailand, shoes are left at the front door, or the bottom of the steps in this case.  Since people cook and eat on the floor inside the huts shoes and dirty feet stay out.

We were shown around the village and then all collapsed under our hut.  Out came the water bottle, and Singha beer from the cool box, filled with cold water.  Ahead of any tour groups, the host tribes stock up on beer, coke and water and we each pay for what we use.  It's handy to have smaller change.  

A fire was set up outside to cook the rice.

We went up into their hut and watched them cook.  Spring rolls, vegetable stir fry. Gorgeous food.

Inside their homes it is very sparse.

 This tribe do not have running water or electricity in the homes.  There are two solar panels by the dorm which provide the power to light a couple of bulbs in the evening.  

A water pipe was behind our dorm which provides all the water for the village.  Water tanks collect rain water and this is used for flushing out the one toilet and to provide water to wash with.  Incredibly basic facilities.  The tribes do have mobile phones, a necessity since landlines can't be brought out to them in the depths of the mountains.

I did not see any signs of Buddhism being practised here.  The semi-nomadic hill tribes in this area are largely made up from the Karen, Lahu and Lisu people.  They are linguistically, ethnically and culturally different from each other as well as from the Thais. After we'd eaten, we all sat out by the fire to ask our local tour guide all about the life of the tribes.  

Alas, in the dark I picked up very little of this so I can't report much back.  I did ask how important that tourism is to them and if they minded all these people who come into their villages.  He said that tourism is the most important source of income and the practical support they have too from volunteers who help with building huts, providing solar panels and so on is necessary for the tribes to survive and retain their lifestyle.  They are happy to meet new people and share their culture and don't mind photos being taken if it helps to spread the word about the tribes.

Day two of the jungle trek saw me waking early and wandering around the village by myself, all damp from the night. Me, and the village.  We slept on the wooden floor with a traditional sleeping mat and a blanket.  I slept so well every night in Thailand.  The heat really wore me out.  I didn't wake early enough to catch the sunrise but I saw the mists lifting on the hills, and wandered out to the fields, terraced into the valley side, breathing the thick smell of the night's rain on the earth. Such peace, permeated only by the crowing cockerels, cattle lowing, and the nearby boar grunting at me.

I came across a motorbike. For the life of me I have no idea how they get out of the village on this, the tracks rising out are steeply up in all directions, with muddy, thin paths that I wouldn't want to be riding a bike on.  This, along with modern clothing hanging up to dry, plastics bags and cans of coke are the indicators that we haven't stepped right back in time 200 hundreds years.

We had our breakfast and embarked on the next trek, starting with a solid 45 minutes of walking uphill. Very steep hill.

My legs were sore at the back from the day before, add in the temperature, the humidity, and the tricky steep and skiddy ground, I just burned. It felt great.

The trekking is quite a personal challenge.  We reached the first peak and stopped to look at a termites nest which was a high as my shoulders, and admired the view of the mountains, looking back down to see the village we'd walked from which seemed both further away than I'd expected and not far away at all, at the same time.  Our guide showed us how to make a cup from a large branch of bamboo.

This woman put us all to shame with her speedy trekking through the trees as we all collapsed into a heap.  The track between villages is a regular walk for the people who live in the hills.  Some children came running through, playing.

We carried on trekking through the trees, a tougher trek by far than the day before. I only slipped over once.  We stopped for a breather at another village just as a huge downpour started, cooling us all off.  Some traditional weaving was on display for us.

Then we tackled the final exhausting leg of the trek before reaching the elephant village where I ate the best meal I have ever had in my life. 3 bowls of it.

Cooked for us by our local guide. You can see the elephants in the background.

This particular village is where the elephants are kept, providing rides up the river to the next village.  It is run by the same tribe.  Volunteers often stay in this village and the next, which was the largest that we visited.

Here, they tried to ply us with traditional jewelry, and wooden frogs that sound like bullfrogs when you run a stick across their notched back. This little boy was helping out.

Some of our group went ahead on the elephants and the rest of us rafted up the river on a bamboo raft.  Remarkably sturdy. I got all stressed out about my camera kit possibly ending up in the water but a tripod of bamboo across the raft kept the bags high and safe, and although the possibility of us ending up in the water through losing balance was a slight concern, the idea of the raft itself tipping up was highly improbable.

Here we have some boys making the rafts for us (taken early the following morning).

This did strike me as being quite important.  Once children are old enough to help out, there is a clear role for them all in supporting the work that goes on in the village.  The boys help with the rafts and the elephants and elsewhere around the villages.  The girls support the cooking, weaving, running the drinks and snacks, and working in the fields.  Perhaps fairly traditional roles but a lot of hard work too.  The guide said that the children do go to school but I'm not sure where. You see all the children playing a lot too. The strength, and skills and capability that children there have even at 5 or 6 years of age is a whole world away from the life of your average 6 year old in the UK.

We reached the next village late afternoon. Much bigger, from the river going up the hillside. We had an elephant ride around this area.  I think they'd had enough of it.  They kept stopping to eat the bushes, lurching around until I was sure I would fall off.

Poor buggers, they didn't feel like it. It's scarily high up actually.  The path was so small.  Elephants are so big, they negotiated it really well. Such intelligent animals.  They are up there with people sat on them, being led up silly paths and getting smacked for rebelling and eating bamboo instead.  I had a steep drop to my left and a steep hill to the right full of jungle stuff. I was fearful the elephant would slide off.

They navigated paths that I could easily have fallen off on my own two feet. Incredible.

There were similar dorms and an outside, but covered dining area, and a washroom.  A toilet with a real toilet seat, rather than an ant covered squat hole, and a big tub full of cool rain water to wash with.  A little plastic bucket to pour the water with, used for flushing the toilet and for giving me the best `shower' I have ever had in my life.  Cool, clean water to wash away the sticky heat and mud and sweat of the day. It was wonderful.

The evening was spent eating, sitting talking by the fire, letting the boys from the villages show us `magic' tricks and brain teasers using match sticks. We drank rice whiskey and coke.

I woke early again, to the pouring rain this time.  Monsoon season was beginning early last May, we caught more rain than usual for that time of year. As we left from Bangkok at the end of the tour, the newspaper headlines warned of flooding from the early monsoons.  So my last morning in the Northern hills.  The rain stopped and I wandered up the muddy slopes to explore.

After a while the novelty of the jungle wears off, the sameness kicks in.  The beauty of it doesn't wear. It's still refreshing to wake to a new view of green, with the sound of rain on the river, fresh air.

A truly amazing experience and one that I would love to have more time to go back to again.