Day 05: The Official Recovery Day. Pai Thailand

After four days, 948 kilometres, countless bends and enough time on motorbikes to make our bodies very aware of their existence, Day Five arrived with a very welcome change of plan.

No early alarm. No helmets. No riding gear. No one shouting, “We leave in ten minutes!”

Today was a well-deserved rest day in Pai, and Yoma Pai was the perfect hotel to do so in. We wandered down for a late breakfast, taking our time over coffee and food and enjoying the strange luxury of having absolutely nowhere we needed to be. After several mornings of getting ourselves organised for the road, this felt positively decadent.

Of course, when a group of riders finally gets a chance to sit still, motorbike talk somehow finds its way into the conversation.

We could have been discussing food, the weather, the next day’s route or even something vaguely sensible. But no. Within minutes, they were comparing motorbikes.

Dilip, by now, had developed quite a relationship with his Honda CB500X. After several days on the road, he was enjoying the Honda’s smoothness, particularly when the road opened up and we could pick up the pace. The twin-cylinder engine had plenty of punch for overtaking, and the bike was comfortable enough to keep going for hours without making him feel as though he was asking too much of it.

Ajith, who had also been getting plenty of saddle time on the Honda, was equally happy with it. He liked the size of the CB500X and the fact that it had plenty of power, despite some annoying vibration, without feeling like it was trying to prove a point. The extra safety features gave him confidence too. By this stage, the Honda had clearly won him over, and he was quite happy to tell us why.

Tarique seemed to agree, although he too, did mention a noticeable vibration through the handlebars, particularly after spending long hours in the saddle. Nothing that stopped him enjoying the bike, but enough to remind us that even a good motorbike comes with its own little quirks.

But then the conversation inevitably turned to the Himalayans.

Several of us had already ridden Royal Enfield Himalayans through Ladakh and Bhutan, so we knew what they could do when the road stopped behaving like a proper road. We had taken them over mountain passes, rough surfaces and stretches of tarmac that looked as though the road contractor had simply packed up at lunchtime and never returned. The Himalayan had survived all of it and, more importantly, had earned our trust.

Roshan had noticed the difference too. When the road became rough, rocky or unpredictable, the Himalayan seemed to become even happier. Its 21-inch front wheel, generous ground clearance and long-travel suspension were made for exactly this sort of thing. Give it a road with a few bumps, stones and surprises and it seemed to say, “Is that all you’ve got?”

Father and son, Adrian and Revatha pointed out that Northern Thailand’s roads were generally beautifully paved, well maintained and remarkably safe. And on those roads, the CB500X really came into its own. Smooth, responsive and comfortable at higher speeds, it was a pleasure when the road stretched ahead and there was room to let the engine work. Covering kilometres on the Honda felt almost effortless.

Then there was Shehan and his Suzuki V-Strom 650. It was a bigger machine and, like any relationship, the two of them needed a little time to get to know each other. But after several days together, Shehan had clearly worked out its personality and was getting comfortable with the big “Suzi”.

By now, every rider had started developing a little loyalty to the machine underneath them. And this is where motorbike conversations can become slightly dangerous. Ask a rider about his bike and you don’t just get an answer. You get a defence lawyer, a technical expert and sometimes a salesman, all rolled into one. The truth was that none of the bikes was really trying to do the same job. The Himalayan was happiest when the road became rough and adventurous. The Honda was in its element when the tarmac was good and the kilometres were piling up. The V-Strom had its own strengths too.

And, conveniently, each of us had managed to acquire the motorbike that seemed to prove exactly what we already believed.

Having finally eaten, chatted and analysed their machines, most of us ventured out for another essential part of any serious adventure: a massage. After days of sitting on motorbikes, navigating bends and holding on through long stretches of road, our bodies were beginning to develop opinions of their own.

The massages were therefore not a luxury. They were practically maintenance.

By the time we got back to the hotel, the combination of a full stomach and a newly relaxed body proved irresistible. Several of us promptly disappeared for another long afternoon nap. This was turning into a very productive rest day.

Eventually, we emerged from our rooms, discovered that we still had a swimming pool and jacuzzi at our disposal and decided there was no reason not to use them. So the afternoon drifted lazily between the pool, the jacuzzi, conversations and absolutely no discussion about kilometres.

By evening, we were back at the Pai Walking Street. This time there was no rush to get anywhere. The famous evening market was already buzzing, with food stalls, music, handicrafts, clothes, jewellery, souvenirs and the general happy chaos of travellers wandering around with no particular plan.

And, of course, food became the main event.

We sampled our way through the street, stopping whenever something looked interesting. There were local snacks, grilled food, noodles, desserts and enough tempting smells to make having dinner at one place seem like a very poor decision. Between eating, drinking and browsing the stalls, we slowly worked our way along the street.

Shopping was equally dangerous. Pai is full of the sort of little things that make you think, I don’t really need this, but it would make a great souvenir. Some of us were definitely better at resisting temptation than others.

There was something wonderfully relaxed about the evening. After the intensity of the previous four days, we were no longer thinking about the next bend, the next fuel stop or how many kilometres were still ahead. We were simply a group of friends wandering through Pai, eating, shopping, laughing and enjoying being somewhere completely different.

And that is perhaps what makes a rest day on a road trip so important.

Tomorrow, however, we were getting back on the Loop, heading towards Mae Hong Son for another 150 kilometres of mountain roads, bends and spectacular scenery. The helmets would be back on, the engines would be running and the mountains would be waiting.

For one more night, though, Pai had us exactly where it wanted us: well fed, well rested and probably carrying a few more souvenirs than we had planned.