Pai: Longing For The Time

Draft. Travelling with teenagers. I sit, looking at the view above, which is taken from the verandah of my bungalow, and cop a wall of complaint from my teenage son. We can't stay here, he declares. The beds are uncomfortable, our room's cold, there's no television, there's nothing to do. But look at the view, I say, waving a hand at the Pai River and the valley stretching out before us; renowned as one of the most beautiful valleys in the world. What's the use of a view, he asks, what's the use of a river when it's too cold to swim. I sigh. It had cost so much money to get us here; finances winding through the sheets and storms; the wind gusted streaks that could not be contained; the city in gay and lesbian mardi gras mode; escape, that is all I wanted, escape.

We came through the troubled tunnels and we landed here. I wanted to impart one last gift, as they moved towards adulthood, and that was a love of travel. I had spent the last decade, at least in my mind, protecting them from difficult circumstance. Now they were almost old enough to be independent, 14 and 16, time is a traveller, Tenterfield saddler, and we experimented with styles and breaches of convention and held that nothing was vital. It's the dry season, you're not seeing it at its best, they told me. During the wet season, when the rains wash the dust from the air, you can see every leaf for miles; and it truly is one of the most beautiful places on earth.

There was just something about it; I liked being there. All the lai lines on earth are meant to meet there; so the cosmic say; and maybe it's true. I felt more normal, more meant to be, than I had for a long time. And the pinks washed across the river every morning and I gazed in awe; trying to capture everything, only to abandon the beauty for a coffee; the visual feast yanked to the bottom of a coffee cup. Everything felt right, meant to be, and that is a most unusual feeling. Time is a traveller, Tenterfield saddler; that was what it was all about; perched at the end of time, at the end of life; in remote corners. God had hidden the most beautiful things in the most inaccessible spots; that was my theory; the Himalayas; but in the current century the ashphalt roads led jam packed Toyotas to the most inaccessible spots; and we were craven in our stupidity; as we passed and passed; beholden.

THE BIGGEST STORY:
Army commanders are grappling with an unprecedented security headache as Prince Harry prepares to deploy to Iraq.
The third in line to the throne appears to have won the battle to join his men on operations in a war zone after months of high-level discussions during which he threatened to quit if he was left behind for his own safety.
Insiders say, however, that officials are still grappling with practical issues - including whether the Metropolitan Police personal protection officers who guard Harry around the clock in the UK should continue doing so in Iraq.
Time to resolve such issues is short. The prince's unit, 'A' Squadron of the Blues and Royals regiment, was warned unofficially last week to expect a six-month tour of duty in southern Iraq starting in April.
It will be the first time a member of the Royal Family has served on military operations since Prince Andrew flew helicopters in the Falklands War 25 years ago - and will force his senior commanders to confront some difficult choices over security.