The third day was for me the best. Getting our circulations going and removing the sleep from our heads meant that the first walking session was undertaken willingly. Although getting to the top of a mountain ridge may not be the easiest of exercise, when the reward is a stupendous view over virgin forest, past and over the clouds still clinging to distant valleys and onwards to a distant mountain range in Burma, the God is in Her heaven and all is well.
The Karen tribes in this area had been touched by government forces. A young lad, carrying his baby brother in a sling, was pulling a wooden toy car modelled on the ubiquitous Japanese pickup trucks. He had never ridden in one but had seen one on the road nearby, blasted by the agriculture dept. who had induced the village to take up forestry instead of the much easier to harvest opium. Another child in the village had a bright orange plastic lion to wheel his sibling around in.
From there, a ten minute walk brought us to the foot of some mighty waterfalls which were in shadow from the sun. As always, the sound of rushing water induced the introspection and calm which obscures other human company, assuming one can find an uninterrupted view.