Bokeo Province (Laos)
When you feel like its all over, there’s another round for you – aka ‘I have mad ziplining skills’ Lunch: (noun) A meal eaten in the middle of the day.
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Sounds simple enough, a very basic construct really. Of course, there’s a number of ways to have lunch, different means of enjoying, sharing and partaking in lunch. In the current circumstances we were in a tree house, some 60+ mtrs off the ground in the middle of the Lao jungle, sharing offerings made by our Lao guides with two Swedes and two Dutch (persons). What the feable definition does not advise you of however is the transfer of insidious Lao superbugs, the kind that have you fearing a casual stroll down the street due to the overwhelming sense of paranoia that a rear end catastrophe may happen at any moment. Sure, my cohorts and I have debated whether this lunch was the actual protagonist, the Lao smoking gun that had the weakened bowels of these meek falang. I believe that the perpetrator was the meal that we had at lunch in tree house #6 on the second day, either way, impending evil was only a short 12 hours away.
Impending death - Our lunch being zipped in, day two of the Gibbon Experience
The drop-in point - Treehouse 6 exit
Yeah, I have mad ziplining skills!
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Leaving the deconstruction of the Seconds from Disaster programme aside for the moment, the actual afternoon of the second day was an absolute highlight. Ja Lee took a few of us around the zips in the immediate area and then we were let off our leashes in order to take on the Experience at our own pace. As per earlier mentions, being airborne and flying 50-100mtrs above the forest floor was just an amazingly unique and exhilarating situation to be in. Knowing that you’re one of only a handful of people in the area and that you’re the only person in the world experiencing that place, at that moment, at that time, well, as Bruce McAveney would have said, ‘It was special’.
Jase and Audrey in treehouse 6 - I know how Jase just loves photos of himself!
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All of the while, all of the way, rotting a little with each breath, impending death was creeping up on us gradually. As the sun dropped and the chorus of the nocturnal beings of the Lao jungle took over, the struggle of one man to deal with an internal Lao uprising was too much. Jase was the first to succumb to the Lao bomb that dropped in our serene tree house. Splitting the quiet of the house with a far reaching and resonating guttural spew over a hive of what probably would have been fairly content wasps, I think we all felt for the fallen soldier in his time of need, and yet I’m sure we also all thought something that we dare not say aloud, ‘Are we to be next?’. Oh yes my friends, the death cab had arrived through the thicket of undergrowth and had somehow located us in the middle of the wilderness , ‘You son of a bitch!’
All of the while, all of the way, rotting a little with each breath, impending death was creeping up on us gradually. As the sun dropped and the chorus of the nocturnal beings of the Lao jungle took over, the struggle of one man to deal with an internal Lao uprising was too much. Jase was the first to succumb to the Lao bomb that dropped in our serene tree house. Splitting the quiet of the house with a far reaching and resonating guttural spew over a hive of what probably would have been fairly content wasps, I think we all felt for the fallen soldier in his time of need, and yet I’m sure we also all thought something that we dare not say aloud, ‘Are we to be next?’. Oh yes my friends, the death cab had arrived through the thicket of undergrowth and had somehow located us in the middle of the wilderness , ‘You son of a bitch!’
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I dropped off a little early from the dinner gathering. For some reason I wasn’t into it, feeling a little worn, I exited so as to reside under the false security of the canopy over my sleeping quarters and aimed up mentally for the next day. This however was my departure point dear friends. As my eyes closed and I waited for sleep to take me away my mind was already having dialogue with my stomach. It wasn’t until a few hours later that my conscious mind reported back and informed me that ‘aforementioned stomach’ had taken a detour down a dark Lao street earlier in the piece and was last seen in the hands of a strangely charismatic Lao man, promising culinary delights from some exotic hawkers fair. My mind, knowing the score and its limited capacity to deal with the situation, stood up at that point and played the only card it had left in its deck, flat out denial. It went something like this;
‘Henry, now stomach is reporting some difficulties, I suggest we shake this off and sleep through the night, that’s my firm recommendation’.
Personally I thought that was the most reasonable option also, I turned on my mattress, took in a few deep breathes and played the game that ‘mind’ had set out for me. A little later my mind came back with an update;
‘Henry, stomach has returned from his little journey, he’s not looking good, there’s things going on in here that make no sense, I’m confused, it’s your call Captain’.
Oh f***, when my mind checks out and I need to make the call myself, well then, I know I’m screwed. The assessment was this, five to seven steps to the bathroom, grab the torch hidden under my pillow, ignore the wasps that may be wanting to make a run directly for my oesophagus once my mouth was open and then set off a spew like I’ve never quite achieved in my life before! And so it came to pass, that on this morning, at N20'29" - E 100' 45", I hurled all over the makeshift bathroom and onto the tops of the trees and hidden Gibbons living in the earthy shelter of the leaves below. It was my Apocalypse Now moment, the point in time where my reality was now shot and I was living in the world of the Lao parasite that was playing a symphony of violence on my internal organs.
I dropped off a little early from the dinner gathering. For some reason I wasn’t into it, feeling a little worn, I exited so as to reside under the false security of the canopy over my sleeping quarters and aimed up mentally for the next day. This however was my departure point dear friends. As my eyes closed and I waited for sleep to take me away my mind was already having dialogue with my stomach. It wasn’t until a few hours later that my conscious mind reported back and informed me that ‘aforementioned stomach’ had taken a detour down a dark Lao street earlier in the piece and was last seen in the hands of a strangely charismatic Lao man, promising culinary delights from some exotic hawkers fair. My mind, knowing the score and its limited capacity to deal with the situation, stood up at that point and played the only card it had left in its deck, flat out denial. It went something like this;
‘Henry, now stomach is reporting some difficulties, I suggest we shake this off and sleep through the night, that’s my firm recommendation’.
Personally I thought that was the most reasonable option also, I turned on my mattress, took in a few deep breathes and played the game that ‘mind’ had set out for me. A little later my mind came back with an update;
‘Henry, stomach has returned from his little journey, he’s not looking good, there’s things going on in here that make no sense, I’m confused, it’s your call Captain’.
Oh f***, when my mind checks out and I need to make the call myself, well then, I know I’m screwed. The assessment was this, five to seven steps to the bathroom, grab the torch hidden under my pillow, ignore the wasps that may be wanting to make a run directly for my oesophagus once my mouth was open and then set off a spew like I’ve never quite achieved in my life before! And so it came to pass, that on this morning, at N20'29" - E 100' 45", I hurled all over the makeshift bathroom and onto the tops of the trees and hidden Gibbons living in the earthy shelter of the leaves below. It was my Apocalypse Now moment, the point in time where my reality was now shot and I was living in the world of the Lao parasite that was playing a symphony of violence on my internal organs.
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Almost like doing a walk of shame, I crashed back onto the mattress where JJ was hidden in her own cacoon of safety. She asked if I was OK. I think my reply was something akin to, ‘Yeah, am feeling awesome’. The rest of that night was a nightmare, not just for me but for several others also. It was hell in there. In the fog of war all I could really recall were the sounds of violent bombs being dropped in the bathroom and the groans of surrender coming from all around me. As my mind meandered through its own internal maze of sickness clouded philosophy all I could really lock in on was the attempt to navigate my/our way out of the jungle in a few hours time. Freakin’ Gibbon Experience hey, right now it had my balls in its hands and for the love of all things wholesome, it wasn't letting go…….
Almost like doing a walk of shame, I crashed back onto the mattress where JJ was hidden in her own cacoon of safety. She asked if I was OK. I think my reply was something akin to, ‘Yeah, am feeling awesome’. The rest of that night was a nightmare, not just for me but for several others also. It was hell in there. In the fog of war all I could really recall were the sounds of violent bombs being dropped in the bathroom and the groans of surrender coming from all around me. As my mind meandered through its own internal maze of sickness clouded philosophy all I could really lock in on was the attempt to navigate my/our way out of the jungle in a few hours time. Freakin’ Gibbon Experience hey, right now it had my balls in its hands and for the love of all things wholesome, it wasn't letting go…….
