Clambering over the last hillock at the mouth of a stream I'd trailed, I sit down to catch my breath and give the old back a rest break. Out on the western fringes of Thailand bordering Burma, the air in the hills was a refreshing break from the diesel fumes I'd filled my lungs with the day before on the 7 hour grind from Bangkok.

Huge bamboo groves cover the area and a light cool breeze carresses my face as if to say "welcome, slow down and enjoy" So I peel off my hiking shoes and dip both feet into the icy cold stream. Its blissful.

Feeling cheeky, I pull out the camera and take some self portraits of my toes wriggling themselves in delight in the water. I scoop up a little and wash my face, accidentally taking a little sip of it. Its sweet.

Refreshed and shoeless, I pull out my map and compass. Cross checking my co-ordinates with the GPS, the Burmese Mon village was another hour's walk upstream. It looked like a stroll in the park the night before at the hotel. It now looked like a half-marathon. No worries, its only 11am and I'd brought along my lunch and water bottle.

1pm. I should have arrived at the village an hour ago. Scanning the landscape as best as I could for telltale signs of human/village life, I see and smell nothing. No tracks, no distant smoke, no passers-by, no smell of cooking, nothing. Doubts creep into me now as I think back. Did I follow up the wrong stream? Did I take a wrong turn? Did I even use the GPS correctly? According to the co-ordinates I'd entered into it, I should be within 500meters of it. Something is not right.

I walk on for another 10 minutes before I'd stumbled across the village. Or what remained of it.

In a clearing, all that were left were a few empty huts with roofs blown away, blackened ground where the cooking area used to be and some pieces of strings and cloth left behind by its former inhabitants. In a corner, I pick up an armless, hairless naked doll, its blue eyes smiling into mine.

The sound of feet on crackling leaves startle me as I whip around and see him.

An old man of about 70 hobbling with a stick in one hand waved his arm at me, motioning me to sit down. I gave a traditional visitor's greeting and sat down.

He spoke not a word despite my questions in broken Thai on where everyone was.

Out of his sarong, he pulls out some matches and started a small fire. Out of nowhere, he pulls out a little pot, put some leaves into it and begins a boil. Cooked, he poured its hot liquid into 2 coconut half shells and offers me one. Taking a sip, I feel its minty flavor spread pleasantly throughout my body.

My head lightens itself of burden as I feel myself floating in a nirvanic bliss.... every sense in my body heightened. The flowers smell sweeter, the breeze cooler, the touch off the tips of my fingers ultra-sensitive, the chorus of grasshoppers and birds overpowering. And I smiled at everything "Hi, little ants. How are you today? Hey there little centipede, you sure have lotsa legs! Wow, butterfly, you're so beautiful and you fly like a ballarina. Hee hee hee.." I was stoned.

The trip touched down as gently as it had taken off and I felt naked and heavy coming back to earth. The old man cracks into a toothy laugh.

I unpack my lunch of rice, fried chicken, nuts and Thai chillis and offered him a share. With lunch between us, we sat down and ate with raw fingers. He loved the chillis and the fried chicken. Pulling out my Mars bar, I split that in 2 and a chocolate bar never tasted that good. I wash down my lunch with water from the stream, kindly declining his offer of more of the magic tea.

From his tattered robes, he pulled out a piece of polished stone the size of a small coin and palms it into my hand with his. The stone felt strangely warm in my hand and despite its ordinary look, I couldnt take my gaze off it. I eventually stuffed it into a corner of my camera bag assigning it a place next to the other little pieces of junk I sometimes pick up here and there.

3pm. Getting up, the old man motioned me to follow him. I sling the camera bag on and skip along happily behind me, fueled by lunch and the tailcoats of his tea. He's small, I'm big. Openings in the undergrowth that were easy for him, ensnared me. But I kept pace.

5pm. We come across other humans! Little children swinging off the veins of an ancient tree rushed to see what strange creature I was. They lead me up a path, into the village where my guide with our pack elephants and supplies were waiting.

"You're 4 hours late! I told you to take the elephants to save you the trouble of getting lost!" laughed my guide, Wen.

Too late in the day to return to town, I enjoyed the bonus of staying in the village for the night. The kids were delighted as they got to play with the elephants for an evening. Sitting around a campfire that evening sharing bamboo moonshine with the villagers and Wen, I recalled the story of the old man I'd met. Eyes widened in amazement and disbelief, the village elders insisted that I'd an encounter with the Keeper, the One who kept humans and Nature in balance with one another, a mystic, not of the soil, born of the trees and that I'd been touched by his holy presence........he was just a kindly old gentleman who helped me. NO! With feverish insistence, they were convinced I had met the Thai forest equivalent of the Virgin Mother Mary. I put it off to too much moonshine consumed by everyone.

I put my drink down and make my way to the stream for a much needed wash. 3 men immediately overpower me and Wen rushes up and says "No! No! No Wash! You were in the presence of the Great One! You must not wash that away!!!"

"Sit down with us. Did He touch you? Where? We want to touch you where he touched you!" Everyone dragged me back to the fireplace and hungry hands began fondling my palms, my face and my chest. I kept my backside well guarded over a piece of rock. "What was it like? Did He say anything?"

There was that little stone he gave me sitting in my camera bag. But with all the groping, I thought it best not to mention it lest those hands make off with one of my prime lenses and flim.

9pm. Dizzy with alcohol, I finally manage to break away from the campfire and get myself washed. Nesting down for the night, I smiled to myself on a great day passed.

The next day, after a great morning of shooting the kids and villagers, Wen and myself lofted ourselves on the elephants and waved goodbye to everyone.

Sitting atop an elephant sure beat the hell out of trekking the forest by foot. Their rhythemic gentle sway seemed like a gentle rocking lullabye and their height they afforded us gave us an elevated perspective of the forest. Wen plucked unrecognized fruit for us to eat and showed me herbal cures from plants we'd passed that could cure a range of illnesses from influenza, to diabetes, to Aids (??!!!).

He points to a particular plant swearing that it gave libidos a turbo-boost (We gave the elephants an immediate rest break while I stuffed as much of THAT as I could into my pockets)

From the corner of my eye I noticed a light from within the woods. My head turns in its direction and the old man smiles at me, giving me a wave of his hand. I yelled "Hi!" and waved back. Wen looks up at me wondering who I'm shouting at. "Its the same old man who helped me yesterday!" He jumps up, almost falling off his elephant, but sees nothing.

Quietly, I dig around and pulled out the stone he'd given me. It still felt warm. I said a quiet good-bye and thanked him again for the help and the company.

End