I’m forced to slow down. And in doing so, my mind settles. The things that clog the system lose their form and hold on me. For the half hour I’m on the wall.

The runs are not predictable here– what looks like a sure bet on Strava will often wind its way to a close at a pickers hut, a landslide, or a deadfall. You need to retrace your steps more often. The forest closes in and the way is narrow, tripping over roots an inevitability. It takes me a while to wrap my head around this less hospitable kind of running.

The 30km/2000m elevation race wasn’t really a run– it was some kind of endurance test, with the course deliberately routed up steep, muddy climbs where just staying upright took all our effort. On the downhills, you clung to vegetation or risked sliding down.

The trail from Bintan to Daonan in South Taipei winds its way around the hills and reminds me of Hong Kong. But unlike Hong Kong, the paths are not made of concrete. They are well-designed and built carefully into the earth using wood and stone.

We’ve been on the road for three days– driving north from Chiang Mai to Chiang Dao to Chiang Rai. We didn’t book rooms til the last minute. We are chronic last minute planners and plan changers, but spontaneity at the height of tourist season is pushing our luck. Still our luck holds. We find good rooms in Chiang Dao and Chiang Rai, and a lovely B&B waits for us in Nan.

Liam thought we might take the back road from Chiang Dao to Pai. It was nine in the morning. The sun felt spiky but the cool mountain air tempered it. Liam looked up from his map and said there’s a route that’s mostly dirt. But it might get tricky.

The rains overstayed their welcome, like visiting family who had fallen in love with the quirks of your town. We had forgotten what it felt like to stay dry. But on this October morning, the sun burned the nape of our necks.