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This morning marked the beginning of my trek in Doi Inthanon national park, the area south-west of Chiang Mai that's home to Thailand's highest peak, and a rich jungle-covered region that's home to several remote hill tribes. I got picked up from my guesthouse at 9:30am this morning: and to my surprise, I had to take my big backpack with me, and drop it off at the agency's office — apparently you can't leave your luggage with the guesthouse, unless you book the tour with them! I've never seen things work like that before. There were 7 of us in the back of the small pickup truck that was our lift — half of our group, which is 15 strong — and it was a quiet, sleepy and rather cosy ride out of Chiang Mai. We were all too tired, and too reserved, to introduce ourselves properly: we saved that for when the trek began.

Thailand is infamous for being a steaming hotspot of all things sex-related. Sex abuse, sex entertainment, sex tourism — you name it, sexy, and they've got it. One of the particularly less appealing of these things is the popularity of sex changes in Thailand. So common are the transsexuals — who started out as men, and who have consumed masses of artificial hormones (and some of whom have also undergone surgery) to become women, and who end up something in between — that here in Thailand, they have a special name. They're called "ladyboys". And they're bad news. Most of them are fairly obvious to look at: i.e. their sexual appearance is totally... well, f$#%ed. But quite a few of them have taken it so far, that you can't tell them apart from real women.

I'm relieved, and a little amused, to find that "the old tour agency game" that I played so many times back in South America, can be played here in Thailand as well. And the rules are virtually identical, too. Here in Chiang Mai, it's the usual setup: there are a hundred different agencies, all offering similar activities, and all quoting slightly different prices. But in the end, they all ring up exactly the same people who actually run the tours, and they all send you on exactly the same tour; and really, it's all exactly the same thing. So you may as well just visit 5 or 10 of them, pick the one that quotes the cheapest price, bargain them down further still, and go for it — because the price and the agency doesn't matter in the slightest, it's all the same tour. Thailand also operates by the standard "book when you get there" rule: it's cheaper to book things when you arrive in Chiang Mai, than to book them from Bangkok (same as booking in Cusco vs Lima), as more cities away only means more middlemen, each of whom will take a cut as they call the next friend down the chain. C'mon, Thailand: you think I started backpacking yesterday, or something? I know this game, you don't fool me!

Everyone's dream is to find a bar where you order one drink, and where they insist on refilling that one drink for free, all night long. Tonight, that's exactly what I found: I ordered one whisky and coke; and the lady behind the bar just kept topping it up again and again. Not a bad deal! The place in question was the "quintessential dodgy Thai bar" — quite a sight in itself. Deplorable Thai pop music playing non-stop. Ladyboys hanging out on the benches. Rickety old pool table with awkward legs and chipped balls. And to top it off, a z-grade horror-slash-porn movie on the TV (monsters exploding out of the stomachs of naked women, every 2 minutes or so). Why don't we have places like this back home?

After the cooking class (and the enormous lunch that came with it), a few of us went over to Chiang Mai's Sunday market, which takes place just on the edge of the old city, in a long plaza just next to the canal. The Sunday market is a nice little tourist affair, but it's not very big and its variety is limited: just a few shmontses and shmutters, really. Lots of ornate bags and sashes, lots of bulk-produced little wood carvings, and lots of artwork and jewellery. Also some good fresh juice stalls, which my bottomless stomach still had room for, even after lunch.

The dark horse of today's cooking class, this quiet and rather awkward young English guy came by himself and said very little. I talked to him a bit, and discovered that he's been in Thailand for some time, and that his passion is Muay Thai (Thai boxing) — a gruesome sport that makes its Western equivalent look like a pillow-fight (strange, as it's quite incongrous with the otherwise peaceful and friendly nature of Thai people). The English boxer has been to several of the infamous Muay Thai training camps — they admit keen tourists at some — and although he hasn't tried a proper fight yet, he claims that it's a great sport and that it's very fulfilling. I say "each to his own" — personally, I'd rather eat a raw cockroach than even watch one of those games, let alone participate.

Two of my buddies during today's cooking class were a couple from Spain. They didn't speak much English (particularly the girl) — and even less Thai — so they were relieved to find someone else in the group whom they could communicate with. That person being yo, por supuesto. Speaking English here in Thailand is pretty much essential — so I guess they speak enough to get by. The guy is true-blue Spanish; but the girl's originally una colombiana. They're here in Thailand for a short winter vacation, before they head back to Europe. They did a reasonable job at following the all-English cooking instructions today; although I did help them a bit, by translating the odd word now and then.

Camilla's an Aussie girl from a small country town about a ½ hour drive west of Brissie. Her father is from Finland: and you can tell, too, what with her blonde-haired, blue-eyed, hawk-faced complexion. She works in the town as a high-school English and maths teacher, although she now lives in Brisbane proper. Camilla is also a vegetarian — something that's surprisingly hard in Thailand, because despite being Buddhist, the Thais can't get enough of their meat and seafood (particularly pork and shrimp). Camilla was one of my classmates in today's cooking class.

It's been a while since I last took a cooking class on this trip; but today, the great tradition was finally revived. And revived Thai style, no less. This morning I was picked up from my new guesthouse (Yourhouse — better than the original dump that I stayed in), and taken to meet my 10 fellow classmates for today's lesson. The cooking school that I signed up with is run by two brothers: I was picked up by one brother; but he's taking a break today, and the lesson was conducted by his bigger, funnier second brother. We commenced with an eyebrow-raising tour of one of Chiang Mai's food markets, and then drove over to the school's private kitchen for the main event.

Sweet sticky rice is a delicious dessert in Thai cuisine. The art of making sticky rice is quite an involved one: it includes soaking the rice (special-grain) in water overnight, and then cooking it in a special steamer and bag. For the sweet sticky rice dish, you add sugar and coconut, and the rice is generally served with fresh mango slices. Sweet sticky rice was the final dish that we made during today's cooking class: and by the time we got round to sampling it, we were already all in imminent danger of explosion, due to overeating.