The lorry dropped us of, literally, in the middle of nowhere and we started our trek. After about three hours, which were not particularly strenuous we arrived at the small Karon village in which we would spend our first night. The meal was basic but filling. We thought up ways to keep ourselves entertained (there was no TV or electricity out here) until we all settled down on the floor to sleep, shitting ourselves at the slightest sound which could, potentially, be some huge great creepy-crawley coming to get us. Just before we all settled down a guy staggered in, off his head with a half empty bottle of whiskey. The villagers whispered to us as he arrived, "Mr Whiskey, he drinks Whiskey!"

We were all woken up at half five by a cockerel giving it all he was worth. The Karon tribe is apparently into black magic. Although we weren't aware of anything going on that night, we took great satisfaction in knowing that it was only a matter of time before that cockerel was sacrificed in some bizarre black magic ritual. We would have enjoyed that!

We then started the day by washing in a near-by stream, finding a discrete bush to go to the toilet behind and trying to lynch the cockerel. We walked for most of the morning and then rode by elephant for much of the afternoon until we reached the village where we were due to spend that night. After the meal, we checked that there was no cockerel in this village. Later, whilst we were sitting around talking, who should stagger in again, but Mr Whiskey. As he arrived, villagers whispered to us, "Mr Whiskey, he drinks Whiskey!" He has obviously made a bit of a name for himself in these parts. Rightly so, as how the hell he found his way there in the dark, especially in his state, I'll never know. Probably by using the black-magic.

The third day started with three hours of rafting, pausing only for the odd water fight between our two rafts or a swim. We then walked for the rest of the day between several Lahu villages until later we arrived at an Aka village for the night. This village was obviously in the heart of the Golden Triangle as there were all sorts of substances being passed around and most of the villagers were sitting around spaced out of their minds.

Latter that evening a group of huge village women came in offering massages. We all went for it and it was one of the most painful experiences of my life, although you felt good afterwards. The place then turned into a bit of a gift shop as they brought in bags of genuine Aka artefacts (of course) along with various narcotic substances which we were invited to buy. After we were in bed, we heard a villager saying to our guide, "Mr Whiskey, he drinks Whiskey" and then some loud snoring from the next room.

We spent the last morning walking between some more Aka villages and then, at lunch-time, a lorry took us back to Chiang Mai. Mr Whiskey had been following a little way behind us and he hitched a ride on our roof-rack.