Flying balls in Chiang Mai

I live in Pattaya but like to visit Chiang Mai from time to time - exchanging the hysterical for the historical, so to speak. Reports of the annual air pollution caused by crop-burning had just started to appear in the newspapers, with impeccable timing, as I prepared for my latest trip and, sure enough, I could see puffs of smoke rising from the hillsides as the plane approached Chiang Mai. Stepping out of the plane at the airport, I felt as if I had been slapped round the face with a hot towel; the temperature was several degrees higher than Pattaya's. I wasn't aware of any worse-than-usual air pollution, perhaps because the oppressive heat was hogging all of my attention. Fortunately, we had a burst of heavy rain after a couple of days, which cleared and cooled the air.

Chiang Mai charmed me as it always does, despite the heavier traffic these days. Strolling round the old city, I came across a Thai youth practising the saxophone in a dusty backyard, watched by a thoughtful companion, a long line of white-robed student-novice monks walking along, each clutching a solitary lotus flower, a group of young boys swinging out over the moat on a knotted rope and then splashing down with shrieks into the water, a bemused dog chasing a remote-controlled model car, a young farang wobbling along on a bicycle while holding a stack of books under one arm. Such chance sightings never lose their freshness for me. Chiang Mai feels like a civilised, liveable place, rich in local culture, rich in farang additions. If I wasn't such a sex addict, I'd live there myself.

My main reason for visiting at this particular time was to attend the Chiang Mai Sixes, an annual six-a-side cricket tournament held at the old colonial-style Gymkhana Club to the south-east of the city beyond the river. It's something I've often meant to do before but never got round to. It's a week-long event, not for cricket purists, just a slogfest really, but very entertaining and played in a convivial atmosphere at a beautiful tree-ringed ground. One of the 36 international teams taking part consisted of Thai schoolboys (amazingly, the game is catching on in some Thai schools) who acquitted themselves creditably. I found my attention being drawn again and again to their lithe, sensual-lipped captain - strictly in order to appreciate more fully his cricketing ability, you understand. If you take a stroll round the corner from the ground, there is a small, still-used expats' cemetery where, at one end, a statue of Queen Victoria standing on a plinth (not Plinth Albert) stares imperiously over the graves of missionaries and other worthies.

I stayed at the Montri Hotel by the Tha Pae Gate as usual. The staff know me well there and always give me red-carpet treatment. At 750B a night (without breakfast), the rooms are good value. I ate well. Vegetarians (even ones prone to lapses) can hold their heads high in Chiang Mai, not skulk about as in carnivorous Pattaya. There are a good few specialist vegetarian restaurants and most of the others have numerous vegetarian options. One evening I went for a meal with Khun O (whom some of you may remember from previous boards). He is an amusing, kind, worldly-wise fellow and took me to a good Indian restaurant, the Royal India, unknown to me before despite its close proximity to the Montri. O has an encyclopedic knowledge of Chiang Mai - I couldn't even catch him out on the whereabouts of the Queen Victoria statue, godammit.

I didn't do much exploring of the commercial gay scene on this trip. Based on long experience, I don't have high expectations of finding boys I like in Chiang Mai's bars. They tend to be either hilltribe boys in the bars round the night market or older, bored straight guys in the other bars; neither group much appeals to me. The only time I grew fond of a boy in Chiang Mai, it turned out that he had moved up there at an early age from Chonburi with his mother. He had an angel's face, a devil's temper, and is currently serving time for murder - but that's another story. On the present trip I had a quick drink at a night-market bar - plenty of boys, none to my liking. I went to Free Boys which had a pretty good selection, even one or two I might have offed if I'd been more in the mood. The show was just variations on a theme, namely, a young man whipping his cock out, gyrating to the front of the stage and then gyrating back again. It grew tedious. At My Way the boys looked mainly bored and straight - par for the course - and the show had ladyboy lip-synching in addition to naked cocks. I left halfway through.

I visited Circle Pub as an afterthought one evening, never having had any luck there. The one boy I offed, years ago, was sweet-natured but of about as much use in bed as a sack of potatoes (correction: less use, I could have kept the potatoes and enjoyed them later). Big surprise this time. The show had started when I arrived and a troupe of four young guys, who looked gay, were dancing their socks off with real verve and flair. I was mesmerised. Then one of the bar workers came and sat next to me and promptly broke what I thought was an infallible law, namely, that boys who join me uninvited are invariably among the ones I least like in a bar. This one had chiselled good looks, a friendly smile, and a saucy manner. He didn't quite live up to his early promise back at my hotel, but I give him full marks for doing his best.

All in all, an enjoyable week in Chiang Mai. On my last full day I was sick as a dog.