A Night at the Bizarre...

Chiang Rai, Thailand

July 27. 2007
N 19°54.385
E 099°49.830

We headed to the Night Bizarre for dinner last night without our rain jackets. We figured there would be a light sprinkle during our walk, but nothing we couldn’t handle. We ducked under the awnings of businesses along our way, staying pretty dry. As we neared the night market, I told Marc the plan of attack.

“Listen to the plan,” as we dodged cars to get to the entrance of the bizarre, “we walk through, check out all of the food, get a beer and decide what we want to eat.” Our plan turned out flawless, especially when the light sprinkles quickly turned into a torrential downpour. We found a little metal table under the protection of a giant tent, sat down with our beer, dry, and watched as people raced to find shelter.

We only had to run into the rain briefly to order our curry—the best we’ve had so far in Thailand. I ventured out one other time to order another jug of Singha. The rain continued to fall and we continued to sit under the tent, simply enjoying the evening. After three liters of beer and two bowls of curry the rain finally subsided. We took the opportunity to get back to our dry room, ducking under the same awnings on our return.

==============================

After a good night’s sleep and a night at the bizarre our first stop this morning was to pick up our laundry. We figured there was enough sun yesterday to dry all of our items, we were happy to find everything ready for us when we arrived. This meant we could visit a few of the temples today since we now had appropriate attire.

Our first stop was the house of the emerald Buddha, or Wat Phra Kaew. We took our time meandering through the vast complex, stopping to look into a barrel containing fish with a few monks and enjoyed the house of the emerald Buddha. The large complex had so many sites within it we didn’t know which way to turn. After about an hour of wandering around we found an exit and headed down the street in search of lunch.

We strolled through a few more temples before stumbling upon a noodle shop for lunch. The tasty broth, thin slices of medium rare beef, balls of Chiang Rai sausage, bean sprouts and rice noodles was one of the best soups we had in South East Asia (with the exception of two Pho stands in Vietnam). We scooped chilies from the large bowl on the table, added black pepper mixed with chili and a few pickled peppers to form the perfect blend of spice, broth and meat. We slurped the broth, sucked noodles and savored the meat, loving every minute of it.

Who knows what kind of delicious meal tonight will bring…

Easy Days in Chiang Rai...

Chiang Rai, Thailand

July 26, 2007
N 19°54.385
E 099°49.830

Since our arrival in Chiang Rai two days ago we’ve spent some time catching up on some chores, including the blog. We desperately needed to do laundry after two weeks in Laos. We actually had to soak some of Marc’s shirts in vinegar in a desperate attempt to remove the embedded stank. Additionally, rotating shirts, underwear and shorts for two weeks; always attempting to determine which article reeks the least, was becoming very tedious. We finally came to the realization that the ol’ reliable sink wash method was no longer a viable option. Plus, Marc was also in need of a haircut. Boring stuff, yes, but we still need to do it!

We dropped off our laundry in the morning and were advised it might be dry the following morning if it doesn’t rain. (It is officially the rainy season in Thailand and we get a good shower at least once a day, whether we need it or not.) We walked away, hoping for sun and fresh clothes free of stank.

We took the time to walk around Chiang Rai and explore; however, we couldn’t explore the many Wats since Marc’s pants were now at the cleaners—the Wats would have to wait until tomorrow.

The Chiang Rai Province is the northernmost province in Thailand. It borders both the Laos border (where we entered Thailand) and the Myanmar (Burma) border. The town of Chiang Rai itself has a population of around 50,000; however, the municipality still has a small feel to it and is very manageable to see on foot—our favorite way.

The sun stayed out the majority of the day as we wandered the streets with no particular destination. When the rain started coming down in the late afternoon we ducked into a little barber shop where Marc got a haircut and shave (two bits).

With all our chores done we made our way back to our air conditioned (yes, AC baby!) room to relax a bit before heading out to the Night Bizarre for dinner. The relaxed environment around Chiang Rai is comforting, especially after coming from the low-key country of Laos. This will be a nice gradual transition before hitting the bigger cities like Chiang Mai and Bangkok.

Correct Change Required...

Chiang Rai, Thailand

July 24, 2007
N 19°54.385
E 099°49.830

This morning, as we stood on the eastern shore of the Mekong River peering across at our destination, the rain came down at a steady pace and Thailand was just a few hundred meters away. We boarded a long boat and made the 300 meter trip to the other side of the Mekong. It was that simple. Goodbye Laos, hello Thailand.

After getting a fresh stamp in our passport from the Thailand authority (Marc now with only one square to spare), we jumped in a taxi and headed to the bus station. Upon arriving at the bus station we discovered the bus to Chiang Rai left at 10:00 AM, giving us five minutes to make the bus. No problem, right? Well, nothing is ever that easy.

Since we just crossed the border we didn’t have any Thai Baht. We asked the taxi driver if we could pay him in US dollars, but he politely declined and told us there was an ATM at the bus station. I hit the ATM thinking I grabbed at least $300 USD worth of Baht, only to instantly realize my mistake—I only grabbed $30. Oh well, it should be enough to pay the cab driver and get us on the bus to Chiang Rai.

I ran back to the taxi driver and handed him a 1000 Baht note. “No,” he said, “you go buy something” as he pointed to the 7-11, he couldn’t make change for a 1000 Baht. I ran into the 7-11 with 3 minutes until the bus was scheduled to leave and grabbed a few snacks.

Perfect, I got two 1 Baht coins and ran back to the driver. I handed him the two coins, thinking it was the 20 Baht required for the fare. The driver looked at me incredulously, shaking his head… again, another currency error. “No, no, this isn’t even one Baht.” Oh crap. I fumbled through the bills and found a 20 Baht note, he smiled and gave me my small coins back and we jumped on the bus just as it was about to take off.

We felt foolish for not understanding the currency, but in a matter of thirty minutes we walked out of our guesthouse into the rain, boarded a boat, crossed the border, jumped in a taxi, and were faced with paying for a service in yet another new currency. This is the tenth currency we’ve dealt with in the last six months. Everything was happening so fast we didn’t even have a few minutes to process things; calculate exchange rates or recognize coinage and notes. After we got on the bus we studied the bills to make sure we wouldn’t repeat our mistake.

As we rolled through town we immediately noticed a change from our earlier environment, separated by a river and only 300 meters—Laos and Thailand are like night and day. The rustic town of Huay Xai has one bank (without an ATM), one petrol station, a handful of guesthouses (a few with slow internet connections and dinosaur computers) and maybe a dozen restaurants. However, when we crossed into Thailand we bumped into a 7-11 with an ATM outside, a Toyota dealership, several internet cafes and restaurants and bars everywhere.

Driving through the countryside of Chiang Rai Province we commented that the landscape was very similar to Laos. Except, the farmers in the rice paddies had significantly more technology, including tractors, pick-up trucks, gas powered weed-whackers, and most importantly paved roads to transport their product. There weren’t any oxen pulling plows, people pushing carts, children running around butt-naked, or bamboo thatched huts as commonly seen in Laos.

As we approached Chiang Rai, we realized we were no longer in the quaint country of Laos. We were being thrust back into a country that grasped capitalism years ago. Even though Thailand is known for a coup every 2-5 years, their economy seems to be booming, of course, tourism is one of the top reasons for the growing economy. I guess it is time for us to do our part!

Good-Bye to Laos...

Huay Xai, Laos

July 23, 2007

N 20°16.589
E 100°24.645

We continued our journey west towards Thailand via a slow boat on the Mekong River. We knew the boat was going to be slow when we departed at 8:50 AM, but we weren’t expecting the ride to take nine hours. Lucky for us, we were at the boat early, and able to get one of the twelve cushioned seats instead of parking our bum on a wooden bench for the entire journey.

We boarded the simple passenger boat, number 44, at the end of the dock in Pak Beng. We climbed down a set of stairs and balanced ourselves as we walked, with our packs, along an unsteady, 12” wide, plank to the vessel. The blue boat with a basic tin roof measured nine feet wide and fifty feet long. The hard, wooden bench seats were three feet long and perpendicular to the sides of the boat. We managed our way to the rear of the boat and immediately claimed our semi-reclining cushioned seats. Straw mats were thrown about the vessel, allowing passengers to take a break from their seats and lie down, or maybe even mediate.

The cruise along the Mekong didn’t disappoint us one bit. The passengers were able to enjoy the breathtaking panoramic views along the river as our driver dodged huge stalks of bamboo, tree branches, logs and other debris floating on the surface of the mud colored river. Corn terraced the countryside next to the river in abundance.

We stopped at several remote villages along the way to let passengers off. The small villages didn’t even have docks to accommodate the large boat, so the passengers would jump out near a clear patch along the shoreline and summon family from the village to retrieve them.

After a good nine hour cruise we finally landed in Huay Xai, grabbed our bags and headed to the first guesthouse we could find. We were both ready for a hot shower, food and a cold beer.

Laos overall has been a rewarding segment of our trip. The countryside is spotted with tourists here and there, but not like in Vietnam, Cambodia or Thailand. Experiencing the untapped beauty in a scenic, serene setting is like nothing we have experienced.

The countryside is as beautiful as Nepal or New Zealand, but the fact that we were able to enjoy it nearly by ourselves was an unforeseen bonus. It was amazing to sit in a small little village, only accessible by boat, where running water, electricity, gas ranges and the internet and do not exist. The rustic bungalows had their charm, but the experience of the landscape made the lack of amenities completely worth it. In fact, a few days without internet access were actually refreshing!

Laos was definitely the cheapest country we’ve visited so far, where we averaged under $5 per night for a room (when you don’t have to pay for electricity it is a lot cheaper!), and around $15 a day for food.

The food, however, was not our favorite in Southeast Asia. In fact, I think I will be fine if I never have stir fried rice or stir friend noodles every again in my life. We did enjoy the sticky rice and enjoyed eating the food with our hands. Our best meal was probably the dinner we shared with Roger’s family in Ban Na. Kim and Em are excellent cooks and they really prepared a special meal for us that night.

The few words of Lao we did learn—"Hello", "Thank You" and "Thank You Very Much"—will be forgotten tomorrow as we head into Thailand and brush up on our Thai. At least we know we can order food!

Sawatdii Thailand!

Pak Beng After Dark...

Pak Beng, Laos

July 22, 2007
N 19°53.565
E 101°07.783

We discovered Pak Beng is a completely different town at night. Since it’s a major overnight stopping point for many local and tourist boats making their way up or down the Mekong the population seems to nearly double in the evenings. When we arrived, the only tourists in the town were us and a couple from England who dared to make the trip on the sawngthaew with us to Pak Beng.

Thinking we were still the only tourists in town we didn’t head out until 8:00 PM; figuring we could have our pick of any table at any restaurant along the street. However, we were surprised to find the streets lined with tourists wandering from restaurant, laughing and drinking Lao-Lao, or just relaxing on a patio sipping Beer Lao.

After a short stroll along Main Street we decided to give the one and only Indian restaurant in town a try. We had to sit off the street, inside the restaurant, since it was nearly full of diners; hindering any of the rare cool breeze from reaching us on the humid night.

After enjoying the Indian cuisine we headed back to our guesthouse, admired the views of the Mekong from the balcony and headed off to catch some sleep after another long travel day.

We woke around 9:00 AM and headed out to check out the town a little more and have our first cup of coffee in at least five days. The streets were again empty, all the tourists, including the English couple, departed on one of the boats that left in the morning to either Luang Prabang or Huay Xai (the border crossing into Thailand).

Lucky for us, we had the whole town to ourselves again, and plenty of time to explore the dusty, yet picturesque, river town.

You Go Pak Beng? I Go Pak Beng...

Pak Beng, Laos

July 21, 2007
N 19°53.565
E 101°07.783

Our goal for today was to get out of Oudomxay. After two days in the valley our throats were raw and couldn’t handle another pollution-filled day in the tiny town. We arrived at the bus station an hour before the 10:00 AM bus to Pak Beng, only to be told there weren’t any buses going to Pak Beng. We had a moment of shear panic, believing we were stuck in the town for another night, but quickly came to our senses and took control of the situation.

The ticket agent sat behind the counter breast feeding her baby and explained, “no more bus for Pak Beng today.” However, when Marc asked the driver of the Sawngthaew parked underneath the Pak Beng sign, he said “Yes, go to Pak Beng.” We went back to the ticket lady, still breast feeding; however, she wouldn’t budge—“no bus Pak Beng today.”

After getting the run-around for another ten minutes we discovered the bus we put our bags on was actually leaving for a town halfway between Oudomxay and Pak Beng, and the driver would most likely proceed to Pak Bang. Perfect, we figured we could catch a ride from there—anything to get us out of Oudomxay.

When the sawngthaew slowly crawled out of the bus station, there were a total of 27 passengers jam-packed into the truck. Five people in the cab, including the driver, 16 people crammed butt-to-butt on the bench seats, 3 people sitting in the middle of the bed on preschool sized plastic chairs, and 3 people standing on the bumper, holding on to the tailgate for dear life. I tried my best not to think what would happen if the driver rolled the truck with all this weight.

After two hours of the standard road torture (rain, wind, potholes, leg cramps, etc.) we made it to our halfway point. Everyone fell out of the bus, smiling and sorta congratulating each other on a trip well done, then slowly wandering off their own separate ways. Now we needed to figure out what bus may be going to Pak Beng.

It appeared there were at least six others on a quest to conquer the same route to Pak Beng. Locals and a few Westerners alike were standing around pointing at each other inquisitively, “Pak Beng, you go?” “Yes, Pak Beng.” “Pak Beng? Pak Beng?” “Which bus Pak Beng, Pak Beng?” “I go Pak Beng, you go Pak Beng?” It was the standard chaos.

After a good 20 minute Pak Beng inquisition, we all boarded yet another Sawngthaew and took off for Pak Beng. At this point we were pleased we didn’t just give up at the bus station and spend another night in Oudomxay; it appeared we were actually on our way to Pak Beng.

Shortly after taking off we stopped to pick up a Hmong family, a mother and her four children ranging in age from 6 months to 7 years. When they got in the truck the children were in awe of four huge, white, Westerners with pointy noses sitting directly across from them. As they sat speechless, the driver took off; zipping around corners at high speeds and tossing his passenger from side to side. Within minutes the entire family was vomiting from motion sickness; with the exception of the oldest boy.

At first the youngest girl barfed rice porridge all over her little brother’s shoulder and face. Next little brother spewed his lunch all over big sister and big brother. Then the mother finally got into the act and started vomiting off the back of the truck as she desperately clung to her infant; the sawngthaew continued at break-neck speeds. Then little sister started again… this time spewing porridge over the side of the truck and thankfully not on little brother again.

We felt horrible for the family. After barfing up their lunch, they sat still, without emotion, rice stuck to their faces and all over their clothes. After about an hour, the driver pulled over, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The family slowly unloaded, not a word to anyone, and solemnly walked off into a remote village.

Many of the Hmong still live in the remote hills in Laos and are gradually being forced to integrate with the lowland societies by the government. We could only speculate that this may have been their first ride in a sawngthaew, let alone a gas powered vehicle. Thus, completely understandable why they reacted the way they did.

We finally made it to the small village of Pak Beng, found a place to stay and strolled through the village. One main street runs through town and dead ends into the Mekong River. The name of the village actually means mouth of the Beng, since the town is right at the junction of the Beng River and Mekong River.

We plan on spending two nights here before taking a boat trip up the Mekong River to Huay Xai, and then cross the border into Thailand.

Just A Little Shit-Hole...

Oudomxay, Laos

July 20, 2007
N 20°41.289
E 102°59.193

We arrived in the dusty, hazy, town of Oudomxay, also spelt Udomxai, after our countryside visit. Dumped back into a larger city for Laos (Pop.: 80,000). Scooters, cars, piles of burning garbage, mangy dogs, and mud puddles lined the streets. The only redeeming quality of the town is that it’s surrounded by dark green mountains on all sides; unfortunately a perfect valley for the smog to come to rest.

I had a slight deja vu feeling as we walked down the muddy main street. Unfinished construction projects lined both sides of the street. Scattered about were rebar, bricks, gravel, and scaffolding, seemingly abandoned; surrounded by debris from the unfinished job and from the locals that have found a place to dump their trash. I’ve been here before, not to Oudomxay, but to neglected towns just like this in Vietnam, Nepal, Chile, Ecuador, Peru, Guatemala… they all begin to look familiar. We lovingly call them our shit-holes.

We decided to stay two nights in this shit-hole to exchange money, update our blog, check email, and take a much needed break after a long travel day. We’ll be out of here tomorrow without a doubt.

Oudomxay will definitely end up on the towns to miss list on the South East Asia Wrap-Up. However, I’m sure we will look back fondly on this little town and smile; just like we have with all the others little shit-holes you’ll eventually stay in if you’re a traveler.

A Promise Kept...

Ban Na Village, Laos

July 18, 2007
N 20°41.836
E 102°42.307

We were lured to Northern Laos by Roger Vanderbeek, who we met in Torres del Paine National Park towards the beginning of our trip. Roger told us about the fresh air, the untouched, green countryside and about the beautiful people. We heard stories about the village of Ban Na and how the town had minimal electricity during his first visit, there wasn’t a single TV in the village, no cars, scooters or boats, and it was an area very few tourists had discovered. The picture Roger painted of the remote mountain village, surrounded by lush green rice paddies, sounded like a place we couldn’t miss.

Roger also told us about his adopted family in Ban Na, the owner’s of OBI Guesthouse (Obi is the boy in the picture below). Roger stayed with the family a few years ago and actually transported their son Aku to Luang Prabang for a hernia surgery that instantly relieved years of pain and only cost Roger a few dollars.

Our journey to Ban Na was more than a stay in the countryside, but we were delivering an important package from Roger to his family in Ban Na. The package contained enough money to send at least one of the kids to school for a year. This was at least the third time Roger has provided educational assistance to the family.

We walked to Ban Na yesterday to make sure we could find it and the family. We introduced ourselves to Kim, the mother of the four beautiful children, and told her we were friends of Roger. We let her know we had a package from Roger that we would bring back the following day and stay the night—we promised an early arrival.

We woke up fairly early and headed out with our daypack and slingbags for the overnight trip to Ban Na. We decided to keep our room in Muang Ngoi Neua to store our gear; we figured the extra $1.50 a night wouldn’t break our budget and would lighten our load for the trek.

We hit the slippery, single track, muddy trail at about 9:00 AM. We crossed two streams, checking our legs for leeches after each crossing. In some stretches the red, sticky, mud sucked at our feet. In others the mud was slick as ice, fresh from the overnight rain. We treaded cautiously through the jungle until we reached vast fields of rice paddies with ankle deep water (and more worry of leeches). After about 3 miles we came upon an open rice field with picturesque sandstone mountains covered with green trees and shrubs.

Little ladies worked in the rice fields, pulling out the clover in between the rice stalks. We weaved our way through the rice patties on the little levees, gradually ascending from one plateau to the next, until we reached the gate for Ban Na. We already knew the place we were looking for, OBI Guesthouse, was at the far end of the village.

We met Kim and three of the children—Em, Aku and Tye—under the canopy of the restaurant. The youngest child, Obi, was over at the new school monitoring the progress of the construction. Before delivering the package, we took another look at the sweeping views from the restaurant; the rice fields and mountains in the distance, spotted with little bungalows—used for shelter during the harvest—were breathtaking.

A few minutes later Marc pulled out a Ziploc with the envelope that read “From: Roger Vanderbeek” and handed it to Kim. Em came over to help open the envelope and pulled out the money. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. We could tell she was stunned. She counted it and fell to her knees, almost in disbelief. There was no question among the kids what the money was for—they were able to attend another year of school.

A little later we met Louie and Eve, a young Dutch couple helping with the construction of the school, and they told us about the conversations the family had regarding school the night before. We discovered there was some serious concern about money to pay for school for the older two, Em and Aku. The money from Roger immediately remedied their problem.

We spent the afternoon lounging around the deck of the restaurant, taking a break to check out the construction of the new school, and playing cards with Em and Eve. I learned a new game and tried to teach all of the kids the game of “Go Fish” before dinner.

We were treated to a special family dinner for delivering good news. Everyone gathered around the main course, roasted chicken stuffed with sticky rice, and put one hand on the tray. As we had our hands on the tray, the eldest family member, Kim’s dad, lead us in a type of prayer, Grace for Buddhists.

After the prayer was finished, we cupped our hands and waited for an offering from the eldest. We received a piece of chicken with a chunk of sticky rice. When everyone had a piece we ate it. Next, they normally serve Lao Lao to guests, but we were pleased to find out they didn’t have any in the town. (We didn’t want any part of that stuff after seeing the guys on the boat!) Instead we shared a Lao Beer, wished everyone good luck, and drank the warm beer kind of like a shot. We polished off the beer, grabbed the serving dish for another prayer, and then each family member started tying good luck strings on our wrists. We received an equal number on each arm promising us luck and prosperity in the near future.

Sharing a traditional Lao meal with the family was truly special as we rolled our sticky rice in our hands and picked at the tasty dishes in front of us to go with the rice. There were two types of soup—morning glory and mushroom—chicken in a spicy broth and a side of spicy morning glory. Everything was very tasty and we complimented Kim and Em on their culinary skills.

We felt we did our part in the good deed by delivering the money; however, we got the best end of the deal since we were able to meet the family and enjoy the beautiful countryside. The entire family is anxious for Roger to visit again, but they felt his presence as we passed through—apparently, just in time. Roger is known as PaPa to the family, but this time his kindheartedness came from the Buddha and brought the family the good luck they need to get through another year.

Life On the River...

Muang Ngoi Neua, Laos

July 17, 2007
N 20°42.573
E 102°40.446

The stunning views from the Vita Guesthouse made up for the sparse accommodations. We didn’t come to Muang Ngoi Neua looking for luxury, but instead we came to see the untouched countryside and enjoy life without scooters and cars—at least for a few days. Of course we also came here because we made a promise to our friend Roger.

Our room, or bungalow, sat right on the river’s edge with views of the mountains from every direction. In the afternoon we took advantage of the hammocks on the patio, enjoying the serene setting, with only a few sounds—the thup-thup-thup-thup of a boat’s motor and a rooster’s crow in the distance.

Our simple, bamboo thatched, bungalow was about 8’x10’ with a light bulb hanging from the ceiling by two wires; it worked between 7:30 PM and 9:30 PM (as does electricty for the rest of the village), a double futon-like pad, a small table and a mosquito net—what else do we really need? The shared facilities had a simple squat toilet. The shower was a large trough full of water and a plastic scooper for dumping the water over your body. It didn’t get off all of the dirt, but it did cool us down a little bit at the end of the day, and if you scrubbed hard you came out cleaner than when you went in.

At night, mangoes from the tree over our bungalow jolted us out of our deep sleep as they fell on our tin roof with a thundering crash. The first one bolted me straight up in bed as it sounded like an explosion, but after the first two or three blasts I become used to them only waking briefly.

The silence all around us was so beautiful that we didn’t mind an occasional mango trying to disrupt our sleep. The sleepy village is definitely worth the visit to get out of the chaos of the larger cities in South East Asia.

Rolling With the Locals...

Muang Ngoi Neua, Laos

July 16, 2007
N 20°42.573
E 102°40.446

Today was a travel day; we knew it would be a hard one. We had to take a bus four hours to a remote northern village where we would then catch a boat. The boat would take us upstream on the Man Ou River for a little over an hour; ultimately reaching our destination, Muang Ngoi Neua. This is if everything went as planned, and as we know, the best part about a travel day is we usually get a good story, especially when there are buses involved.

When we arrived at the bus station we discovered the “bus” wasn’t really a bus, but a Sawngthaew, a common mode of transportation in Laos. Essentially, a pick-up truck whose bed, a Toyota sized bed not an F-150, had been converted into local transportation. Both sides of the bed are lined with wooden bench seats, about two feet wide, barely fitting my butt. Overhead is a makeshift “roll bar” covered with metal siding to protect the happy customers from the heat and rain. In addition, it may protect the occupants from being tossed into oncoming traffic if the driver loses control and hits one of the many 18” deep pot-holes that plague the “highway”. Additionally, the roof of the “bus” served as a luggage rack; where the happy customer’s luggage is securely tied down.

Fourteen of us, mostly locals, climbed into the bed, staked out our spot on the bench, and got comfortable for the four hour ride. Of the tourists, there was one American from Connecticut and two English girls, one of which looked ready for afternoon tea and crumpets with mum on the veranda. Her freshly applied make-up and cute little jean skirt grabbed more than a few looks from the locals and the Westerners.

A little over an hour into the trip along the serpentine road the UCONN guy made a desperate plea for the driver to pull over—I knew the look. Marc banged on the cab and got the driver to pull over. The guy jumped out the bed of the truck and high tailed it to the bushes where he proceeded to get sick. The guy was kind enough to hide what he had for breakfast to himself. We offered him some Dramamine when he got back in the truck, but he politely declined. I went back to reading my book.

Another hour into the trip I started to get a little headache, this is when we realized the guy across from us was carrying a liter of kerosene in a plastic bottle back to his village. The bottle was leaking and we could tell from the look on his face and his glossy eyes that he was pretty f’d up. We tried to convince him to get rid of the bottle, others were suffering at this point, but his family was dependent upon him—he couldn’t just toss it. Marc banged on the cab again for the driver to pull over—we at least wanted to put the stuff on the roof—but the driver told him to cover it in a plastic bag. It was a good thing we had natural air conditioning or all of us would have either had a gas high, or have been dead.

After huffing kerosene for four hours and taking a severe ass-whooping from the potholes we finally made it to Nong Khiaw; the village where we had to catch the boat. We now had a few hours to kill before the boat departed at 2:00 PM. We spent the time sitting on a restaurant patio that overlooked the river. We watched the local kids, with their baskets of soap, headed down to the Nam Ou for their daily bath. The younger kids would strip down, the older ones would leave on some clothes, jump into the water to get wet, climb back out to lather up, and then jump in again to rinse off. A few of the kids weren’t more than four, jumping into the Nam Ou without a life guard, or parent, in sight.

After the “bus” ride we were actually looking forward to a tranquil cruise up the Nam Ou. However, when we finally boarded the boat we realized we may be in for another adventure. The vessel was 3 feet wide and probably 20 feet long. It had a roof, but not much of a bottom, as the water splashed, our clothes got a little wet from underneath.

The boat, like the bus, had two long, hard wooden benches for people to sit. We had to sit off center to prevent from bumping knees with the person sitting across from us. The boat was fully loaded with 18-20 people, plus luggage. The boarding process was the normal chaos we have grown accustomed to from our travels in South America and now into South East Asia; just sit back relax, watch and laugh. There was a slight delay when two of the locals wouldn’t get on the boat. The lady, baby in tow, kept yelling at someone. We weren’t sure what was upsetting her, but she definitely was mad about something. When her husband and his buddy, or possibly father, got on the boat we realized what was upsetting the lady.

I could instantly tell both of the men were three sheets to the wind. They stumbled onto the boat as jolly as can be. The younger guy was resting his arm on the tourist next to him as he leaned over to argue with his wife. The other man fell down and sprawled out on a small open patch of deck near the driver.

Fifteen minutes into the trip, the older guy next to the driver, who must have been in his 60s, decided to lie down and try to sleep. We would tell the dreaded Spins had set in and he was in trouble. Sure enough, less than a minute later, he was pulling himself back up and over the side of the boat. His friend, directly across from Marc and I, was laughing at his buddy hurl his lunch and Lao Lao (rice wine) into the river and then asked the driver for a cigarette.

It was probably another twenty minutes into the trip when the guy across from us, probably done in by the smoke, was over the edge puking. Lucky for us, he was on the opposite side of the boat, and didn’t have to worry about the wind catching the remnants of the Lao Lao and bringing the chunks back into the boat.

After a few more minutes the young guy realized his buddy looked very comfortable and crawled to the front of the boat and passed out on his friend. The site of them curled-up and snuggling gave all of the tourists a good laugh. The two of them, were out-cold at 2:30 PM on a Monday afternoon and actually were still on the boat after everyone got their stuff and left, including the young guys wife and baby. I think it was a good lesson for everyone on the boat… stay away from the Lao Lao!

Another Hot Day in LP...

Luang Prabang, Laos

July 15, 2007
N 19°53.486
E 102°08.302

Today, our third and last full day in Luang Prabang, was spent seeing the sites we kept walking by our first few days, but consciously said we would visit on another day. Specifically, we didn’t visit any of the temples because the first day was too hot, I wanted to wear shorts and a tank top, not a skirt and t-shirt as required when visiting a temple. Of course, today wasn’t any cooler, but we didn’t want to miss the sites over something as silly as my clothing or sweltering heat.

After a cup of hot coffee and a light breakfast, our first in at least five days, we headed out to see the Royal Palace Museum, climb the mountain to see Phu Si and then, if I have my way, we can cool off with a traditional Lao massage at the end of the day.

The museum, located in the King’s palace, featured incredible gifts from all over the world separated into groups depending on if the country is socialist or capitalist. The gifts from the US include a small moon rock and a miniture Lao flag that went to the moon with Apollo 11, as well as a few small trinkets from John F. Kennedy—nothing as spectacular as the Buddhist sculptures from India or the painting from Nepal’s Royal Family.

After the museum we headed across the street to climb the 190 stairs to the top of Phu Si. The number of stairs reminded us of the Filbert Street stairs we tackle during some of our training runs at home; however, these stairs weren’t as physically demanding. I do have to say with the heat and humidity though; the stairs were as mentally challenging. After we climbed to the top of the mountain, we were afforded 360 degree views of the Mekong Delta, the Nam Khan River and the Laos countryside.

Not only did we have spectacular views, but we were able to visit the temple and pay respect to the numerous Buddhas—one for every day of the week. We really took our time strolling around the temple and working our way back down the steps. We really couldn’t move fast since the temperature was tipping near 100 F and the humidity from the rain clouds on the horizon made it feel like we were walking in a sauna.

It was about this time I convinced Marc the best way to spend the rest of the afternoon was to get a massage. I had a traditional Laos massage a few days ago and told him how relaxing it was; especially for only $3 per hour. Since we were together, we decided to bust-loose and splurge for the full two-hour massage; for a whopping $5.

Shortly after changing into the loose cotton pants and massage shirt, I realized why Marc agreed to the massage. Normally, he’s not real hip to getting a massage from complete strangers. However, there was no way he could resist laying directly under a fan for two hours in a moderately cool room.

I should mention, our Guest House, the only one available when we arrived, doesn’t have AC, only a ceiling fan. The fan, even at its highest speed, doesn’t provide a lot of relief from the heat and humidity. After checking the temperature in our room over the past few days we determined the average temperature was between 85-90 F; which doesn’t include the wind-chill factor from our shitty ceiling fan. Our only remedy is to take a cold shower at least three times a day.

Thus, the massage was the best way to cool off after another extremely oppressively hot day.

Tomorrow we leave Luang Prabang and start visiting some very remote villages in the northern part of Laos. Our internet access will be very limited until close to the end of July when we arrive at our first stop in Thailand, Chiang Rai.

Tuk-Tuk Knows Best...

Luang Prabang, Laos

July 14, 2007
N 19°53.486
E 102°08.302

During our walk the previous day we heard every tuk-tuk driver offer trips to the waterfall. “A must see,” they all said. I guess when you hear something enough times you start to believe it. So, we figured we had to see the much hyped waterfall. We negotiated a rate with a tuk-tuk driver who roamed around in front of our guesthouse and he said he would be at our place the next morning at 9:00 AM. Perfect.

Our tuk-tuk driver was waiting for us as we walked out the door at 9:02 AM. The plan was to pick up another couple and stop at a local village before the main event, Kwang Si Waterfall.

After our driver made a quick stop at the local temple for his daily prayer, we stopped at a small village where they sold handicrafts. The crafts were sold by young children most of them girls from 3-7 years. On a few occasions the young children were barely able to walk, too young to talk, but they were holding up the handicrafts and pushing them on the tourists.

Little boys ran around rolling bicycle tires with sticks, others pushing long sticks through the hard dirt; imitating their fathers plowing rice fields with their water buffalo and wooden plow. We thought of kids at home around their age; worried about getting the next Nintendo or PlayStation, not money for their next meal.

During our drive up the mountain to the waterfall we passed lush green forests, perfectly terraced rice fields up the side of the mountain and small villages with a dozen thatched roof houses and children running around naked. The countryside of Laos is different than Vietnam and Cambodia because of the numerous mountains which are visible from every angle.

We didn’t expect much from the waterfall. Yes, we heard it was a must see, but after waterfalls in other countries, including our own, we think we have seen the best of the best. We walked through the gates of the waterfall, a popular picnic place for locals (similar to the one in Cambodia), and headed out on the 10 minute trek to the falls.

Before we even reached the falls we came across a cage filled with Asiatic Black bears. The bears were saved from poachers who believe their organs have medicinal value. After we watched the bears play for a few minutes we walked closer to the falls; however, we didn’t get very far before we met Phet, an Indochinese tiger, also rescued from poachers. We loved the signs all around the tiger’s cage—“Danger. The tiger bites.” “Don’t put fingers in fence.” Uhhhh…. No shit!

We finally started up the trail toward the falls. We reached a small, crystal blue pool of water with a small fall trickling into it. “This can’t be it,” we said to each other. We kept walking and came to another pool of water, just as pristine as the first. Both of these pools were labeled “swimming areas” and there were several picnic tables in the area. The majority of the tables were still available since it was around 10:30 AM.

We kept walking up the path still expecting more. About 100 meters later, we saw the real waterfall, a 80 meter drop into another aquamarine pool. There were bridges stretched across the pool of water for optimal viewing and small foot-paths leading to the top of the falls.

We decided to follow one of the paths even though Marc said waterfalls don’t look like anything from the top—think about Nevada Falls or Vernal Falls in Yosemite. Yes, good point, but I was out for the exercise after a few days of being under the weather. Marc was right, the view sucked, we told others coming up, but they still had to see it for themselves.

After our climb to the summit of the falls we headed back down to one of the swimming areas for a dip in the water. The water was actually cool and Marc commented that it was the coolest his core body temperature has been in over a month. We stayed in the water for awhile enjoying the break from the humidity before climbing out to dry off.

We relaxed at the pool for several hours chatting with a couple that shared the tuk-tuk with us; a French lady and Swiss man. After several hours of relaxing and watching the local children play in the pools we were ready to head back to Luang Prabang. However, the couple was obviously very relaxed, still had at least a half a pack of cigarettes each to smoke, and were generally enjoying themselves.

At around 3:00, and down to their last 2-3 cigarettes, the couple decided to jump back into the water. We told them we would meet them at the park entrance—we were going to get a sandwich. We just finished our sandwiches when they finally exited the park to the relief of our driver, who was obviously ready to roll.

We made idle chit-chat with the couple before we arrived back in Luang Prabang. They asked to meet us for dinner, but we gave them a very non-committal response—not because we didn’t like them, they seemed like nice people, but after a day in the sun, and two packs of second hand smoke, we were ready to relax and cool off some more.

The trip to the waterfalls was definitely a must see in Luang Prabang; tuk-tuk drivers always know best.

Ahhh, the Sound of Silence...

Luang Prabang, Laos

July 13, 2007
N 19°53.486
E 102°08.302

It was 6:30 PM, 32 degrees Celsius and at least 90% humidity. It felt like it was only getting hotter.

Luckily, we didn’t have any “complications” with Marc’s passport and Visa upon entry into Laos. W didn’t even have to pay an extra “convenience” fee like in Cambodia.

However, after we struck-out at our first two picks for lodging we were scrambling. We looked around and saw we were just one of at least half a dozen backpackers looking for a place to stay for the evening. Unfortunately, I was getting a major rumbling down below and a there was an extreme sense of urgency. We knew we needed a room with a private bathroom (which is uncommon) for obvious reasons and it had to be least under $25 a night.

After wandering the streets of Luang Prabang for at least 45 minutes a young boy on a bicycle approached us, “You need room? $6?.” Marc asked him if the room had a private toilet and he said yes... that was all it took. We followed our young savior to the Kinnesy Guesthouse. Marc took a quick tour of the Spartan room and hollered out to me on the street, “This is where we’re staying tonight.” No air-conditioning, but it does have a ceiling fan, clean sheets, and a private bathroom with lukewarm water. Luxury!

Our first day in Luang Prabang was very low key. After waking up with a few kinks in my back and neck, I decided to take advantage of one of the several massage spas in the area. The average cost for one hour is around $3—very difficult to turn down. I went to the spa nearest to our guest house and told them I wanted work done on my neck and shoulders. Yes, we have been through this before in Vietnam.

I was pleased to discover the typical massage in Laos is similar to the Thai Massage where you dress in a little cotton suit prior to the massage. The massage consists of a lot of stretching; exactly what I needed after climbing the temple stairs in Siem Reap for a few days and frantically trudging around with my backpack the day before.

The best part of the whole massage was I didn’t have the uncomfortable feeling that I got from “Bob’s Place” in Vietnam. There was no need to clinch the butt cheeks or look over my shoulder and find a gnat with a towel over his head vigorously shaking my boot—all very legit.

The city has a unique layout centered between two rivers—the Mekong Delta and Nam Khan. We took a walk along the Delta side until we reached the round-about that took us on the Nam Khan side of town. We stopped on occasion to admire the vegetation and beautiful countryside in the near distance and just listen to the quiet.

The French, who colonized much of South East Asia, have a famous quote about the people in the region… “The Vietnamese plant rice, the Cambodians watch it grow, and the Lao listen to it grow.”

As we walked around today, we found the Lao people to be extremely laid back, relaxed, and without much outward emotion. A very nice change from other cities we have been in during the past month.

The Big D Shuffle...

Siem Reap, Cambodia

July 11, 2007
N 13°24.747
E 103°51.822

We’ve been on the road for a little shy of six months and have fortunately stayed very healthy. We had a few sniffles in Chile and I fought off a cold on my trip back to the States recently, but we haven’t had any stomach problems… until now.

We expected at least a little food illness in South America, but we walked away clean after 2 ½ months. When we took the risk and ate on the streets of Hanoi and Nha Trang, we thought we might catch something—nope. We were fine until we hit Cambodia.

We are pretty sure the meal that did us in was with the locals the other night. They served a plate of fresh vegetables—peeled carrots, cucumbers, and something called banana leaf (we don’t really remember)—a big no, no when traveling in foreign countries. Yes, everything was peeled, but we don’t know if they were washed again in local water. We dipped the fruit in the dried fish, lemongrass, chili and lime concoction; however, there probably wasn’t enough lime juice to kill any thriving bacteria.

The good news is we aren’t puking our brains out and burning through rolls of toilet paper. Instead we’re just a little uncomfortable at times, eating light, and keeping a strategic eye-out for the closest bathroom at all times. I guess this is when the SEAsia 10 will finally come off!

We were able to stroll around and explore the rest of Siem Reap during our last day, but we also did a lot of relaxing. This was perfect after three jammed-packed days of temples, waterfalls, and floating villages; plus we really weren’t in the mood to do the Big D shuffle.

We’re off to Laos on Thursday where we’ll spend four nights exploring Luang Prabang before heading north into the countryside (PLEASE NOTE: internet access WILL NOT be available).

What a Beautiful Country...

Siem Reap, Cambodia

July 10, 2007
N 13°24.747
E 103°51.822

It was a good thing we went to bed early last night since we had another early morning with Mey and Lin for our trip to the mountains. We were headed to Phnom Kulen National Park which is located roughly 2 hours from Siem Reap. Promised sights for the day included a fabulous waterfall, a temple with a giant sleeping Buddha and the river of 1000 Lingas.

After the long, curvy, drive up the pot-holed mountain road we headed straight to the temple of the sleeping Buddha. The Buddha was discovered after the Pol Pot regime was finally dissolved. Nearly 25 years ago the mountain area was a camp for the soldiers of the regime and many of the religious monuments were banished or destroyed. Additionally, the army decimated the surrounding jungles by planting thousands of landmines in order to deter the Vietnamese army from aiding Cambodia; we were told to stay on the marked paths since many active mines still exist. Today the area is once again a thriving hub of dedicated Cambodians that come to pray to their beloved Buddha.

After a quick stop at the river of 1000 Lingas we headed to the waterfall area. The waterfall, a very popular spot for locals to come and picnic after visiting the temple, has covered, wooden platforms about 10’ x 10’ with sitting mats on the floor. It’s common to bring an ice chest full of cold drinks and order lunch from the locals; famous for their roasted chicken.

During our picnic we were entertained by the local kids. They ran around butt naked, - swam in the river, and jumped up and down shaking a suspension bridge every time an adult or tourist tried to cross and, well, we watched them be kids. Every now and then one would walk by us, smile and say hello. After we responded, they would giggle, and run away.

It was also during lunch when we met a young lady snapping pictures of the local children. We could tell she was American. She stopped to talk to us and told us she was from Cleveland. She was traveling with her childhood friend and her friend’s family. The family escaped from Cambodia in 1980 after leaving an internment camp set-up by the Pol Pot regime. The family experienced first hand the devastation handed down to the local people by the crazy government. They were lucky enough to live through the experience, unlike the three million people who were killed by the government.

However, the whole family didn’t make it to the USA, and part of the reason for the return was to pay respect to their father. The father stepped on a landmine as the family escaped Cambodia, on foot, to the Thai border. This was their first visit back to Cambodia since 1980 and they held a small memorial service in honor of him. The short conversation was very touching, hearing first hand how the government destroyed a life, but luckily the family was able to start a new one in America.

The Pol Pot regime is such recent history that it still impacts the country, setting them back in time, making it harder to catch up technologically and economically to their neighboring countries. When we visited the Killing Fields, one of the smaller ones in the country, we left with tears in our eyes as a young man told us of his hardship. He explained he was going to school and getting an education, something his people couldn’t do under the Pol Pot regime. The regime that wanted to start a Communist state beginning at Year Zero—killing doctors, lawyers, teachers and anyone else with an education or opinion that may bring dissent.

It was another long day for us, we were exhausted at the end, but we had a great time and experienced more of the rich Cambodian culture. Our time in Cambodia was short; however, we saw a lot in our time here… every minute was worth it.

A Day at the Temples...

Siem Reap, Cambodia

July 9, 2007
N 13°24.747
E 103°51.822

The many temples, including the famous Angkor Wat, around Siem Reap are what draw the tourists to the area—they were the main draw for us too. However, after arriving we were also pleased to find a more serene town without the mad frenzy of Saigon. The locals are friendly, have a sense of humor and are more than willing to show you around the town and surrounding temples.

We decided to give one of the local tuk-tuk drivers a job for the day, allowing us to see the temples, and enjoy the fresh air from the carriage being pulled by his motorbike. Our driver putted along the country roads, passing rice fields and schools located in tiny villages throughout the countryside.

As soon as we stepped out of our tuk-tuk at our first stop, the Lady Temple, a group of young girls came up with their trinkets. “Lady, Lady… you buy a cold drink from me?” or “Lady, Lady… you buy a star, flute, tiny Buddha (fill in the blank) from me?” I politely declined, but they persisted “if you buy a drink, trinket, etc. you buy from me, my name is Thaliah.” As they each told me their name, I tried to make it clear I didn’t need any goods… except for maybe the cold drink.

The Lady Temple, or Banteay Srei, was truly amazing with all of the intricate detail. The perfectly sculpted sandstone changed colors from rose, to grey, to black throughout the temple since it was built between 967-1000 AD. This was our first temple and it already exceeded our expectations. Marc and I were snapping pictures like crazy; trying to capture the experience as much as possible, but at the same time knowing words and photos will never capture the beauty of the temple. We knew the rest of the day would be special.

After we left Lady Temple the young girls were still outside waiting for us. I found my “cold drink girl” and made my purchase. This did not go over well with the other darlings who were selling trinkets I didn’t need. They stood around me, melting me with their sad eyes, telling me they don’t have money for books, pens, paper or food for school. I had a tear in my eye as we drove away from the beautiful children knowing we can’t help all of them and giving cash encourages begging.

We visited several other temples throughout the day including Ta Prohm which is best known from the movie “Tomb Raider.” The temple, built from 1186, is in the beginning phases of a much needed restoration. Currently, the temple is rubble and jungle with the exception of the Tomb Raider Tree, a tree growing out of the top of the temple. It was worth the stop, but not necessarily our favorite temple of the day.

We climbed back into the tuk-tuk, passed by a few more temples and started to focus on the grand finale, Angkor Wat. However, before we made the entrance to the crème-de-crème we had to make a stop at Angkor Thom.

Angkor Thom has three temples within the two spectacular gates to the compound. Our tuk-tuk driver took us through the East Gate which had less traffic and allowed better photo opportunities. We drove past a few of the highlights before coming to Bayon. Bayon, one of the newest temples, was constructed from 1177 to 1230. The intriguing design consists of numerous faces looking down upon the people in the temple and the surrounding countryside. From every angle it’s possible to see a full face, a profile, or at least the back of a head. The faces are rumored to resemble the face of the King who ordered the construction. From the temple he could look down and keep an eye on all of his subjects.

It was getting late in the afternoon at this point and we wanted to allow enough time to enjoy Angkor Wat, so we jumped back in the tuk-tuk to make the drive for our final stop of the day which we were hoping to hit at sunset.

When we drove up to the temple of all temples, Angkor Wat, we immediately noticed the very large moat filled with water surrounding the temple. The moat, 627 feet wide, is a rectangle that actually measures 1.5 KM by 1.3 KM. The moat itself is larger than any other moat in history.

As we walked across the giant moat we looked at the temple standing in front of us. It looked impressive; however, it appeared to be smaller than we expected. As soon as we walked through the main gate and gazed down the long promenade, we knew the view from the outside was very deceiving. The promenade must have measured at least 1 KM with libraries, wading pools and the headquarters for the ongoing restoration efforts. It was simply enormous!

When we finally reached the main entrance we turned upon the bas-reliefs, stretching along the walls of the halls. Intricate murals, chiseled directly into the sandstone and lacquered for protection, stretched from floor to ceiling, outlining a different part of ancient Angkor history. For example, one of the murals depicted the separation between heaven and hell, whereas others portrayed parts of history including battles. The three dimensional designs extended the entire perimeter of the main complex.

After nearly 40 minutes of getting lost in the intricacy of the bas- reliefs, we continued to explore the different sections of the temple. We made sure to stop and sit several times, simply attempting to take in the awesome project. There were a few times we even found a corner of the temple without any other tourists where we sat in amazement while pointing out the dark jungle just outside of the compound walls.

We continued to stroll around the temple, at times crawling on our hands and knees to ascend and descend steep flights of stairs, for nearly three hours. Finally we had to admit we were too exhausted to continue and made our way back towards the main gate, looking back over our shoulders every few minutes. Stunning.

Overall, the temples exceeded our expectation; especially the vast size and elaborate designs, making us ask the question… how did they do this so many years ago? I guess that is what makes the visit to a historical site so special and leaves us with the desire to see more.