Vietnam - Don't call this a comeback!

Vietnam

I've known my mate Jet for something like 15yrs, so getting on to nearly half my life now. He's the type of guy that you'd be lucky to know and a friend you'd be even luckier to have. He's a typical Aquarian which means that he's got a great sense of humour, is witty, always has his  heart in the right place, is emotional in an undirected sense and can be, at times, flaky. That's why the Aquarian/Cancerian combination works, sometimes our conservative ways (that of the Cancerian) keeps them in check, at other times it's that Aquarian left of field thought process that provides us with the scope  to see things just a little differently from the typical hard line, logical progression.

Quick background check then. Jet made his way up to Sydney back in 1995 and found himself doing a little tele-marketing work for a place called Heidelberg Roof Restoration in late February of that same year. I had beaten him to the punch by a week and had already been losing my mind there in the evenings doing part-time work whilst filling my days with a B.Bus degree at UTS , which  by the way was none too successful. Our first few encounters/discussions did not particularly bode well for any sort of mutual respect, let alone a friendship. I was a little uni upstart, snobbish, thinking that I knew so much more than anyone else (what's changed right!?), and Jet was the Uladulla boy, bright eyed and bushy tailed with a pinch of naivety (all of which have gone, although he's still an Uladulla boy at heart). Without going into too many stories the most amusing is the one where he sold me the idea of wearing a suit and I sold him on the idea of wearing casual clothes exactly a day after we'd both worn the opposite form of clothing, (laughs out loud - insert here), Heidelberg, good times hey.

Fifteen years down now and during that time we had always discussed doing a trip together. Sure, we've done a few NYE's which have included rides down to Thredbo and Melbourne but not a journey through another country. So when Jet was considering heading off at the end of this year I tried to convince him to jump onto the ride that I had already planned which just happened to be a revisit to a favourite country of mine, Vietnam.

Where this idea started for me however was a couple of years ago when Jase and I had ventured into Vietnam for the first time. Aside from the fact that I absolutely fell for the place, especially the north, I got suckered into the the tailored clothing bonanza that was/is the town of Hoi An, a place that's approximately halfway down the coastline, some 30kms south of Da Nang. With the idea that one day soon I needed to return in order to get my tailored suit on, I booked myself in for a Vietnamese excursion and hey presto, there we have it, Back in Black with my man Frichot - game on!

As I write this first update of our trip to Vietnam I'm guessing that Frichot is cruising somewhere at 35,000 feet, burning up the sky miles at 900kms per hour on a fabulous Air Asia flight into KL. He is of course the advance party and will be the main scout for new bars, markets and all things debaucherous in KL before I fly out to meet him sometime on Saturday evening. So with that said, Let the Games begin, this trip is now officially open!

Laos - It's a wrap

Laos - the final

When I completed my run through Europe last year I adopted a set of questions as a template, something to use as a nice way of rounding out the few weeks that I'd had. Sticking with tradition therefore and adopting the same template that I did then, well, I bring to you the close out of the Lao experience.

Laos - the close out

Favourite Places - Aside from the drama, the Gibbon Experience  was fantastic, but in terms of towns visited, it's a close run thing between Vang Vieng and Luang Prabang, perhaps Vang Vieng getting the edge due to its overall vibe.

Most Surprising - Vang Vieng - filled with backpackers and definitelty a tourist trap but never the less a great place to spend a day or as much time as you have/need.

Coolest place for a night out - Vang Vieng, but with that said, Luang Prabang was charming, and surprisingly, hanging out in Vientiane overlooking the Mekong was also a treat.

Favourite Hotel -  Well, not exactly a hotel but sleeping up in a tree nearly 100mtrs off the ground in a remote part of Northern Laos I think suffices as a favourite hotel spot.

Best place to get totally lost - Vang Vieng again, you could get lost in any bar for weeks with the right type of attitude.

Best place to drink and get totally lost - Vang Vieng

Coolest Moment - Tough one, it's a tie between a massive zipline that I did on the Gibbon Experience, just flying through the air, probably 100mtrs above the forest canopy, travelling at 60-70kms per hour between two mountain ridges, absolutely exhilirating, or, the cruise down the Nam Song, for it's overall vibe and 'chilled out air'

Uncoolest Moment - It's Mr Swiss Garlic merchant telling me that he hates it when other people chomp on cloves of garlic but that he couldn't smell his own stench....very uncool Mr weird Swiss man, way, way uncool!!!

Best comeback - JJ's comment to the 'Rings of Mystery' merchant in Kuala Lumpur, 'You're just a ringget whore'. Not a comeback in the classic sense but the fact that the he was doing our heads in for so long, in my mind, made the line somewhat of a stylish comeback. In terms of physical comebacks, I think that when Jase rose from the dead whilst walking out of the Lao jungle (see the Gibbon Experience), well, that might just make the grade as the best comeback of this escapade.

Most random but still cool event - JJ and I wondering the streets of Huay Xai and finding a huge open wooden bar that looked like it was an afterthought. It was more then well hidden away and it absolutely qualified as being random, never the less, it was a cool place but strangely not frequented on the night we visited with either tourists or locals...bizarre.

Best Meal - Some would say the KL lemon chicken, and I have to admit, it was damn good, BUT, the 10 foot burger in Vang Vieng was just the tastiest thing I've ever had in my life, SERIOUSLY!!

Total Flights - 7

Total kms covered - 20,292 (approx)

Kuala Lumpur - a former place but not in the same condition

Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia)

You’ve got to laugh, seriously, when you warn people in advance that their actions will cause them problems the next day and it comes to fruition, well, it’s sheer poetry. Our last day in Vang Vieng was a day after cruising the Nam Song and JJ was on Struggle St, it was beautiful to see. It’s one of those paternal/maternal sort of scenarios where you kind of feel their pain but you also give them that look that says, 'Hey, I told you so, this is experience talking'. Would love to have seen JJ’s face the day before when I had the blankets over my head, now that would have been priceless!

In any case, JJ and I struggled up to the minivan pick up point which took us to the major bus pick up point and then we were off, Vientiane bound, a place where our trip to Laos would come full circle and where we in turn  we would be jumping a ride to KL the next day. Approximately 4-5hours out of Vang Vieng our VIP bus of the Gods rattled into Vientiane and by some sheer logistical skill on the part of the bus driver we pulled up virtually next to the ‘You have drugs on’ (Red Dragon) hotel. Not too much to add about Vientiane on this occasion as I kind of forget the specifics, I think JJ and I may have cruised around for the afternoon, sorted our souvenir shopping and lined up a few drinks at a wine bar. Other than that we also lined up at Vientiane International the next day for the short Elisher X ride to Kuala Lumpur.

Vientiane - Laos

Arriving back in KL for the final leg of our journey JJ and I bunked up at the Swiss Inn Chinatown for a couple of nights, not quite ready to accept the fact that we were going home but also not quite willing to let the devastation of the Lao super bug live on. We of course hit the Chinatown markets for some quality bargains, of which I gained aplenty for my Aunty whose fine bourgeois taste quite suits the kitsch knick knack garbage of the Jalan Petaling market. Needless to say, it wasn’t all tourist traps and ringgit pimps that we encountered, we did manage to get a dose of our much favoured and under advertised lemon chicken, which is a classic meal and I’d recommend it if I knew the name of the place. If you’re ever there just look for an old dude pulling some funky tricks with rings saying “WAAAA’ for too often and an all too cheery Chinese man who has the dolcet tones of Barry White, ’Oh yeah, baw, baw’ It losses much in translation, but you’ll know it when you meet him.

Oh, I nearly forgot, earlier in the day JJ and I also managed to make it to a pretty cool indoor amusement park called Cosmos world. Well, to the extent that it was indoors it was cool, a half decent roller coaster, a hellishly fast paced pirate ship that got you completely inverted and a haunted house that you make have considered to be lame but actually turned out to be surprisingly amusing , amusement parks are just cool, wherever you are, period.

Cosmos World - Kuala Lumpur

JJ, contemplating 'something' and the lemon chicken - Chinatown - Kuala Lumpur

Aside from that JJ, Audrey, Jase and myself rounded out the night back at the Beatles bar, chilling out, drinking away and waiting for the morning light to bring us a flight back home…and that my friends is that. Laoscapades completed, conquered and experienced…and in all, generally pretty good. There were some really highlights and off course a few struggles but the hits and misses I’ll leave for the last post which will be the Lao wrap up.

Vang Vieng - In the tubing

Vang Vieng (Laos)

Be it a great thing or a bad thing for Vang Vieng, the activity of tubing down the Nam Song and its associated side attractions of rickety but super cool bamboo bars, swing-outs into the river, water slides, alcohol,and all things mind altering is now central to what this place has become. It’s the reason that I came and by God, I was going to take on the Nam Song on this day with reckless abandon and exuberance!

The way it works is as follows, you take a stroll into town and find one of the two places that will hire tubes out to you for the day. It’s strictly a two tube premises town as this element is controlled by the Vang Vieng mafia, who in turn control the prices you pay for hiring your tubes and also the associated deposit. Now, there’s a return policy on the tubes requesting that they be back in the dock by 6pm otherwise your deposit is lost. Let me just say this, knowing now the nature of the river and its capacity for carnage, I’d be surprised if 20% of the tubes make it back by closing. It’s a rort but so what, happy to help them out.

After you’ve hired your tube the VV mafia will drive you approximately 3kms out of town to the start of this wild ride. Estimates of the time taken to complete the journey state about 2-3hrs when the river is in full flow and 3-4hours at the low end, note, this does not factor in any of the stops that you may make along the way which has he propensity to turn your adventure from one of several hours to one of several days.

JJ and I rock up at the kick-off off bar and it was kind of pumping. OK, so perhaps Shaggy was playing at the time, which doesn’t particularly lend itself to being a pumping joint but this place is obviously filled with good vibes, people chilling out on the bamboo veranda and occupying the bars getting stuck into their whiskey buckets, pulling dubious back flips off the swing-outs and commencing their leisurely cruise down the river. As we sectioned off a little bit of our own piece of chilled serenity I looked down the river and just had to laugh. There were bamboo bars, strange sorts of platforms, people in tubes with all forms of alcohol in their hands,man, I could only classify it as an adult Disneyland. It looked strangely and insanely cool, and we hadn’t even kicked off our session yet.

The 'Kick-Off' Bar - Nam Song River - Vang Vieng

JJ making her way down the river

After a couple range finders at the bar JJ and I walked our tubes down the river and set off for our journey into the Never Never. There’s something to be said for just laying back, having your arms and feet dangling in the cool water, checking out the magnificent views of the mountains on one side of the river and then waving your hands when you feel inclined so that one of the staff at the bars can throw you out a line or a bamboo rod in order to pull you into their fine establishment. So I’m not sure whether it was the second or third bar that we were at, the one after the moth filled whiskey drink, that we hijacked ourselves a cute little vista on the banks of the river, pulled ourselves up some hammocks and organised a couple of whiskey buckets and assisted ourselves in letting the afternoon roll on. Oh yeah, I was liking this vibe! Just sitting back and watching other people with the same mindset or perhaps slightly enhanced mindsets just flow on down the Nam Song. It was easy to recognise how a couple of days here could transform itself into several weeks. In fact, knowing what I do now, somewhere down the track I’d love to make this a New Year’s Eve stop, one week on the outgoing year and a week on the inbound.

JJ getting her 'hammock on' with whiskey bucket aid! - Nam Song River - Vang Vieng

Another cool bar, another reason for a drink - like we need reasons!

Whiskey buckets, life's elixir - Nam Song River - Vang Vieng

Don’t know how many hours JJ and I spent at Hammocks in the Sky but the music was cranking and leaving was starting to prove a little too difficult. We did however manage to pull ourselves away only to be dragged into another bar on the other side of the river with one wicked trapeze that was just beckoning for me to conquer it. From some of the skills that people were showing off on this piece of equipment it was quite apparent that a few of them had made their base on the Nam Song long ago. Still, with the several hours at trapeze school in Homebush still relatively fresh in my mind I stepped up to the trapeze on my second attempt and launched off the pad. On my second pass and with what I thought was the requisite speed, I launched myself skyward in reverse. Oh yeah, sailing through the air was magical, I won’t lie, it was fantastically exhilarating. The problem however was my lack of skill and the fact that I under rotated which meant that the final result was an EPIC FAIL on my part. I entered the Nam Song upside down and head first! Clearly from eye witness reports and footage taken by ESPN, the critical point for me was the execution, or lack of,  but it has to be said that my heart and commitment to the task was not an issue. As I burst through the surface of the water and looked to the gallery I could see the face of the Russian judge, it wasn’t disappointment, it was sheer contempt for my skill that this well worn face showed. On this day, my attempt to channel the spirits of the long line of Barnum & Bailey trapeze artists had obviously died an inglorious death. Never the less, JJ also, with the Homebush experience still relatively fresh in her mind climbed atop of the platform and swung out with the whoops of the gallery to support her flight into the Nam Song.

Yes my friends, this was the scene of the EPIC FAIL!

Gathering up our strength and with JJ a hash brownie to the good, the tubes set us adrift for a further few stops until we encountered the sum of all things awesome. A bar that had a mega slide off the roof that allowed you to sail out into the middle of the river, it was a boyhood dream turned into reality. Now, even those this slide didn’t look menacing, I can tell you that with the right speed and inertia, if your entry wasn’t judged to perfection well then you hit the river HARD. This was a lesson learnt the hard way as I came barrelling into the Nam Song chest first. JJ on the other hand had fine tuned her skills and was taking on the slide with all the grace and poise of a Mexican gymnast, yeah, figure out what that means for yourself

 

How good is that slide!?...And how wasted is that guy?

Cruise the day away - Nam Song River - Vang Vieng

As the sun set behind the mountains and the sky started to dim, the alcoholic rationale of making it to the finishing line kicked in. With beer Lao in hand and the sight of a finish line in our hearts (well, it was more JJ than myself, she was carrying the team for the afternoon), we set off down river in search of glory but as the sun sunk lower and the shadows lengthened, light fading fast, it was only JJ whose steely resolve shone through, she thought that we could beat the Nam Song on this day! Unfortunately where we came unstuck was on one of the stone/rock beds that blocked our easy path to victory. As we almost came to a stand still, with night upon us, I suggested to JJ that the best escape route now might be up the banks and a walk to the road in hope of hailing a tuk-tuk. Needless to say, the Lao people of these parts are well aware of the idiots that get stuck out in their tubes at this time of night and their requisite need to make it back home. Thankfully we had a kind Lao merchant that assisted us out of the water and pointed us to his awaiting tuk-tuk. What we didn’t have however were amicable fellow tourists, who whilst also were (thankfully for them) pulled out of the river, still had the gall to challenge the tuk-tuk driver on the price that he was asking for a run into town. This guy was just a pretentious dick, I couldn’t believe that he was arguing over a few dollars and his dumb ass arguments kept us waiting for nearly 10 mins until he relented, 'Dude, just wake the hell up!'. In any case we managed to get back into Vang Vieng, tubing deposits obviously lost to the VV mafia, but really, who cared, it was a fantastic day and one that I really look forward to doing again sometime in the future!

JJ, Beer Lao in hand, convincing me that we would make the finish line!?

The distance to here - Nam Song River - Vang Vieng

Vang Vieng - The day that never was

Vang Vieng (Laos)

I have no photo's of this day, neither do I have much recollection of what it offered, which to me was not a hell of a lot. In cricketing terms this would have been known as the rest day, in other parts it would be understood as the 'you be fucto day'. As rest days go their stories are commonly made within context of the drama, trials and tribulations of the night before. Ahhh yes, the night before, so very, very long ago.......

In the last post JJ and I had just finished the round up at the Australian bar that we'd managed to somehow zero in on due to our crazy  craving for food and lots of it. Leaving the bar we found ourselves on the Vang Vieng streets, trying with all our navigational nause and knowledge to  and locate our little garden of Eden amongst all the other small patches that were strewn along the walk back home. Whilst at this point I was still relatively in the zone of being OK, the walk home again felt like it was taking hours and the conversation with JJ felt as though it was taking place under water. I mean, I could see her mouth moving but the delay on deciphering her words and making sense of whatever it was that she may have been saying just made it laborious and an absolute chore for me. What was extremely cool however was the kick arse rock concert that seemed to be going off in one of the resorts close to where we were staying. I entertained the idea of going to check it out and was going to mention it to JJ when all of a sudden the music stopped and then I realised it, that my friend was hell of an awesome auditory hallucination you were having, but sadly, an hallucination never the less. Much better that you crash out somewhere soon H!

Somewhere along that evening's timeline JJ and I had purchased a huge slice of confusion with our burgers. I'm sure that when we got into our rooms I sat on the edge of the bed, doing I'm not sure what and JJ was in the bathroom, doing the equivalent of what I was doing. As I laid back on the bed and entertained sleep I heard the roar of a Sumatran tiger, or was it a Black Panther? If you've ever heard the start of Black Cat by Janet Jackson, well, the roar at the start of that song was exactly what I heard. This woke me up promptly but as I looked around the room, well, you can guess what I saw, not much other than a bemused JJ wondering what the hell it was that I was doing! As I tried to get back to sleep again I could have sworn blind that JJ pulled off the same roar about 2cms from my ear but when I challenged her on the issue she just laughed and explained that I was hearing things, was I JJ? Was I really? I don't know, that freakin' roar sounded damn authentic! But so too did that cannon fire that was coming from the other side of the room, and for that matter the killer rock concert that was going off  in the Vang Vieng surrounds a little earlier. Ummmm, yeah, sleep was now going to have to be my preferred mode of transport for the night, time to check in and check out.

The evening was an absolute magical mystery tour of thoughts and sounds, all kinds of fun from the bits and pieces that I remembered, but as the sun took its first bite of Vang Vieng the next morning, the day after the night before, my day of the 'one that never was' had just commenced. The starting point was a knock on the door and that had both JJ and I wishing that this person would just split, really, what could be so important that this knocking had to continue for seconds, 'Man, end it already! Your seconds of knocking is doing my head in!'. As I made the desperately difficult decision to get up and check it out the commotion I realised from just trying to stand that my journey from the bed to the door, probably all of 5mtrs, was going to be EPIC! It was the best delivery of the new wave dance 'two steps forward and one step back' that anyone has ever delivered. Throw in a sideways fade and shimmy and there you had it, my journey to the front door was one for the ages. As the standard clichè goes, it's all about the journey and on this occasion I had to agree. I opened the door to find this slightly built Lao man with towels in his hand, just staring at me, and me in turn reaching out, trying to grab the towels from him. This was the only part that I didn't understand because the guy was unwilling to pass them over and I didn't have either the capacity or the will to explain to him that I was zonked and that I'd prefer that he'd just leave. I did my best to motion him inside and then tried with all my might to make it back to the comforts of the bed. I think the few mins that it took me to get up and back to the door was one of the highlights of the trip for JJ.

The six to eight hours after that event was just a haze. I recall JJ leaving  our place once or twice, for a clothes washing mission I believe on one occasion and then perhaps for souvenirs on another. Really, I don't know because I can't remember a thing. This 'never happened' day was all about me catching glimpses of the light coming through our window and convincing myself on each occasion that my comfortable bed was the much better option for the next hour., and the one after that. Later that evening JJ did convince me that dinner might be an appropriate event but at that point it was all over, the sun had raced me all day and then had me well and truly beaten before even making it to the starting line. I mentally ruled the whole day out and thus promised myself that tomorrow would be another opportunity to turn it all around.

Vang Vieng - I spent a week in Vang Vieng one Tuesday!

Vang Vieng (Laos)

Unless you’re flying out of a town via a predetermined ‘Air Maybe’ route then your only other realistic option to get into Vang Vieng is on a Venga Bus! A ‘Venga Bus’ you ask? Well, if you remember the Vengaboys and the torment of their only known song then you’ll be in the right frame of mind to imagine the torment of riding through the central highlands of Laos on a typical public style Lao cross country VIP Bus. The trouble is not so much with their penchant for the Vboys but rather their ear piercing, soul destroying need to blare Lao Karaoke hits of the 70’s  at full volume for hours on end. This is falang torment and obviously a not so silent protest by the Lao people to get all tourists, or perhaps just all haters off their vomit machines of death. The two questions I’d love to have answered, which for some reason I failed to ask is;

1) Why crank the volume up to 110 decibels? Seriously you could hear the high pitched shrill of your famous nationalistic tunes even if they were being played across the border in Vietnam, and;

2) Do we really need hours of this stuff? I mean I’m not wearing an orange jumpsuit and torture is not something that I signed on for whilst taking this cruise!

In addition to this JJ also noticed that a young man at the back of the bus also had a not so well hidden rifle under his jacket? WTF? This young man (no more than 16 years of age) is holding a rifle for what exact reason? Or rather, the better question was, what the hell does he think he’ll be able to achieve with that thing? Admittedly I half knew the answer, but either way, to actually see the result was disconcerting. So just to fill you in a little, route 13 from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng (which the route from Phonsovan joins up to at approximately the half way mark), is a notorious spot for hijackings and/or insurgent attacks on public buses. Whilst an attack hasn’t happened here a few years (2004 being the last one where passengers were in fact killed) seeing your safety left in the hands of a kid that looked like he had a pop gun was a little amusing and slightly unsettling. Thankfully the ride through to Vang Vieng was completed without and problems and the scenery during the last couple of hours was about the best we’d encountered on the journey thus far.

.

From memory JJ and I pulled up in Vang Vieng late in the afternoon having already radioed ahead to our other companions advising them of our arrival, not sure if they cared much at all but there you have it. We made base at the Thavonsouk Resort and Hotel, a great relaxing place located on the banks of the Nam Song river, and then lined ourselves up for whatever escapades inevitably going to follow.
.
Now a short note at this point upon how and why Vang Vieng came to pass. As I’ve written in an earlier blog update, the idea of Laos itself was brought to my attention by an ex- AAPT business analyst that advised me of it’s treasures just before leaving for Vietnam/Cambodia at the end of 2007. The place that he spoke of was Vang Vieng, and he didn’t mention the magnificent scenery, which is in fact lush, green and filled with limestone mountains, but more to the point he drew my attention to the bamboo bars and afternoons spent cruising down the Nam Song in large rubber tubes. That, from a tourist/backpacking perspective, was the Vang Vieng draw card and admittedly my priority for making the excursion. He also mentioned the endless ‘Friends’ re-runs in most of the bars in town, but that is another story for another day.

View of the Nam Song from the Thavonsouk Resort & Hotel - Vang Vieng - Laos

After setting down and finding ourselves in more than a comfortable abode, JJ and I struck out across town to rendezvous with our fellow travellers on a large-ish island in the middle of the Nam Song. When I say large, five large bars with space to burn is what I mean. This we found out by crossing a somewhat quaint if not rickety wooden bridge and thence we set foot on the Isle of Mysteries & Dreams. Upon our arrival we already spotted Jase and Audrey on hammock patrol, swaying with the wanes and wallows of the central Lao breezes, consuming whatever mind altering substance was on offer and exuding the infamous Vang Vieng chilled state of mind. Now that’s the look that I wanted! So as JJ and I pulled up our own little hut with complimentary hammocks we ordered up a couple orders of Happy Herbs garlic bread finest and laid back to enjoy the sounds of serenity, watching the Nam Song gently slip away into the distance. Now, this is what the essence of ‘chill’ is all about! Note also, this was to be my departure point for the next week (aka, 36hrs), as Happy Herbs finest was just in its first steps of doing a gigantic number on me and taking me on a fabulous mystery tour of auditory and visual hallucinations.

.

Now it’s been noted that in the ‘Fog of War’ wires get crossed, communication breaks down and things that may appear to be apparent and clear are certainly not. In my world, the fog that was slowly descending on me after chomping through a couple of well garnished slices of garlic bread was now surreptitiously affecting my feelings of well being, my overall chilled-ness and also my capacity to communicate with anyone other that myself. For some reason I felt like I was dropping into a zone where I was half a sentence behind the conversation permanently,not that it worried me, because the fire going off in the middle of this island bar was drawing me in like the proverbial moth, and man, I was feeling Allllright, yeah! I think somewhere between feeling alright and my overwhelming need for food JJ and I left Jase and Audrey to bask in their own Vang Vieng glow for the rest of the evening and we alternatively challenged ourselves to walk into town and find ourselves a satisfactory meal.

As the town itself goes, it obviously knows the type of clientele that frequents Vang Vieng and it obviously caters for those that are in need of a desperate midnight munch. What it doesn’t let you in on is the fact that the walk back into town for some reason takes 10hrs longer than the walk to the bar, call it special relativity, call it fatigue or call it the mind altering substances, that walk, especially in the mind of JJ, warranted us hooking up with a ‘caravan of courage’ that would have assisted us across the wastelands of the Vang Vieng backstreets, if indeed we could have found one.

Can you see why this fire amazed me so much? Neither can I.....now...

Aside from me now being more than a sentence or two behind the conversational game, I still had enough of my senses to line up one of the Australian run bars in town that made such a monstrous, gluttonous and decadent burger, that saying it rose something like 20cms off the plate would not have been too far from the truth. It was also, unequivocally, THE BEST burger that I’ve had in my life, or, to adopt a Janellism, ‘the best burger in the history of burgers’. It was unbelievably good, I mean, draw your own conclusions as to why that may have been the case, but it was ‘Ken Awesome…truly'. Still further, from memory (which of this night really vagues out towardsthe end), it actually did enough to beat me. There was burger left over to burn on the plate and no matter how much I tried I just couldn’t take the thing down. Almost forlornly I needed to admit defeat and with a heavy heart I left the most AWESOME burger ever on its lonely plate whilst Janelle laughed at how much I was heralding its mastery of all burger elements in a unique concoction of perfection. When both our conversations finally matched up and our minds clicked into first gear, a genuine struggle I tell you, we decided that making a run back to our hotel was going to be the best option for this night, and as tomorrow? Well that was going to be another day, or so I thought!

…..Vang Vieng…..too be continued

Phonsovan - A place where God divided by zero

Phonsovan (Laos)
How to describe this place adequately? Enough to do it justice? Phonsovan it a shit-hole! Plain and simple as that! It’s ten times worse than Adelaide when it’s having a bad day, although to say that would perhaps hint at the fact that I rate Adelaide slightly, and this is a complete fiction also. This place is a glorified t-intersection, sitting in the middle of a plain of unexploded ordinance, painted and stained in the colour of grey and brown, enveloped in dust, soot and general debris that somehow transcends the general comprehension of what large piece of crap looks like and manifests itself into what the Lao people call a town. To say this however is to perhaps do myself and Janelle a slight injustice for seemingly voluntarily accepting an expedition to this schiester outpost. So let me roll it back a few steps.

.

The day before in Luang Prabang JJ and I  had debated as to whether we’d make the hit and run mission to the Plain of Jars, necessitating an overland journey to the gateway of this ancient wonder. The plan that we devised seemed uncomplicated, well crafted and would cater for the travel adventure requirements of all concerned. It therefore meant a 4-5 hours bus ride to Phonsovan, a spin through the various sites/locations of the Jars outside of Phonsovan and then a late flight from Phonsovan to Vientiane in order to provide us with the opportunity of scooting off to Vang Vieng after that. As I said, relatively painless, barring perhaps associated fatigue that wears you down when you’re vegetating on a bus for a few hours.

.

So we jumped the van in the morning and set across the mountainous interior of Laos, punching the time card in Phonsovan perhaps at somewhere close to 4pm in the afternoon. Now as I’ve made clear, this place is a non event. It really is a town built on a large t-intersection, obviously priding itself on the bland and uninspiring architectural hodge podge that moonlights as commercial premises. Never the less, it’s perfectly acceptable for us in the fact that it fulfils the purpose of maintaining us for an evening before heading out for some stone jar viewing the next day, or so we thought. Enter stage left, Lao Airlines and their infamous propensity to cancel flights at a drop of a hat. Apparently the flight from Phonsovan to Vientiane the next day had been ditched due to the substantial amount of haze in the air due to forest burning. SON OF A BITCH, what this now meant was that our ability to get out of the place was now being dictated by a bus ride that operates on an unfavourable schedule to what we’ll require in order to make the most out of Vang Vieng. We discuss the logistical drama and vow to head out to one of the sites early in the morning and hijack a mobile Lao karaoke van as quickly as possible after that. For that evening however we absorb ourselves in the wonders of Phonsovan by trying teleport ourselves to somewhere else, anywhere else, it doesn’t work. We find the closest bar to our Phonsovan digs and drink instead. It makes us feel moderately normal for the evening.

.

Now, let me say this. The Plain of Jars is a large group of historical cultural sites containing thousands of stone jars, which lie scattered throughout the Xieng Khouang plain in the Lao Highlands. How the jars got there and indeed their purpose are not known although intellectual guesses have been made. These sites are well known outside of Laos, and I assume therefore should be well known within Laos, I did say  I assume. I add that amusing side note for this reason, the bus that we had nominated as our getaway service was scheduled to leave at 10am that morning (the morning of our attempted viewing), in the interim, trying to locate a tuk-tuk driver that actually knew what the hell we were talking about when we made a request to be take to the Plain of Jars was nigh impossible. For what must be a popular tourist site you would have thought that anyone looking like that may have been a tourist would have been accosted for offers of a ride. Our quest felt like that these people were pulling a monumental ‘Punk’d’ episode on us, it was I would say the equivalent of asking a cab driver in the centre of Sydney to take you to the Opera House and him looking at you vacantly because he doesn’t know what the f**k you’re talking about!. Although I repeated the question and our desire to see this famous site with every subsequent cab driver I was started to look as though I'd just arrived from outside of the solar system. In any case we did finally manage to chat with one person that mentioned to us that tuk-tuks are not actually able to take you to the main site and that in fact you would need to walk close to three kms into the park and then three out in order to see them. Considering the site was about 15kms out of town and the rocket clock was reading about 8am, well, our chances of getting out there and then making it back for a 10am bus ride  to Vang Vient was not looking probable at all. So the next best solution? That’s right, gin and tonics at 8am my fine fellow, why not start the day out the way that you’d like to finish it.

.

 

JJ & I knocked back a few heart starters and reminisced upon the good times that this hot spot for Oligochaetology offered (study of worms by the way). That took us all of five seconds and then we just drank as hard as we could in order to forget the torment of those five seconds. It didn’t work for us either. When 10am flashed up on the scoreboard we were well and truly on our way outta there. Phonsovan, to you I say kindly,'get stuffed’. You’re a place that I never want to visit again because you offer nothing to humanity, but thanks for holding us over for the night, it's an evening that I'll never forget (apparently) as my psychiatrist has stated that you never truly get over such a serious bout of PTSD!

Phonsovan - 'Thanks for coming'

You see that photo, THAT's Phonsovan! That's it! A little piece of nothing in the middle of nowhere, coloured in a rainbow of grey and brown that's ever so appealing for the jaded traveller.

Luang Prabang - Monkey Magic

Luang Prabang (Laos)

Waking up, getting up and then actually moving  before the sun comes up, unless I’ve been out drinking all night, is generally a very difficult task. Come to think of it, the former task is more difficult than the latter. With that said, programming brains, setting alarms and bolstering the ‘internal will’ mechanism to try and get out onto the streets of the town at somewhere between 5am and 6am was actually a mercurial marvel.

.

Never the less, as the darkness turned into that mysterious early morning blue and the veil was beginning to be pulled of the exterior of the Luang Prabang streets, JJ and I found ourselves making our way to the main street of LP in order to watch the monks obtain their daily alms, in other words, their daily food allowance from the local residence and of course the falangs, should they choose to participate. Not knowing exactly where this ritual would take place or at what time we felt somewhat validated in our fluke-ish judgments by the ladies we saw carrying bowls of sticky rice. Then as always, we had some lady point to us and tell us in no uncertain terms, ‘Monks come here, monks come here’ ,although here looked to be a place where everyone else was NOT going. Then for some reason she kept repeating it and beckoning us to stay or come, we couldn't really figure it out in the end. Either way we followed the people in the know to the main street, it felt like much more of a sure bet.

Monks collecting their alms in the early morning - Luang Prabang - Laos

So apparently one of the ways to gain merit in the Buddhist religion is to give alms to the monks. Not that we actually did that, although I think JJ and I certainly gained some credit by getting up early and checking the deal out. In any case, what happens with this particular process is basic, specific and has a degree of ritual about it. The monks each morning rise and walk down the main street whereby the ladies of LP are seated in order to give them their alms/food for the day. The monks walk in single file, silently and not speaking, by each of the ladies that are kneeling, their heads being kept at a lower level than that of the monks. In fact all people are advised to actually sit or kneel so that their head is at a lower level than that of the monks'. Each of the monks obtain there handfuls of food from each subsequent person and progress until they’ve exhausted the number of people offering. This in turn had me thinking, on those bitterly cold mornings, how many people actually show up? Do the monks check out the weather forecast and think ‘damn, Friday is going to be a bitch, better stock up otherwise I’ll be on a food flat line for the day!’, hmm, maybe, I know that I would. Still, the monks passed silently and in that charming, quaint kind of way it was nice to know that this ritual is a daily event, woven into the fabric of LP. Lets just hope that there aren’t too many tourists making there way here so that the entire tradition becomes completely bastardised/commercialised.

One of my favourite shots taken in Laos - on the main street of Luang Prabang

.

After the Monkey magic experience I think JJ and I went back to crash out for a few hours, Lao superbugs and early morning starts sometimes gets the better of you. We resurfaced around noon in order to jump a little tour for the afternoon which was to take us out to the Kuang Si/Kouangxi falls, about 25 or so kms outside of LP. Somewhat surprisingly also, as we discovered upon arrival, the falls and the area in general were quite picturesque. There were some great waterfall tiers, terraces, rock pools, rope swings and all that sort of cool runnings stuff going on in this little sanctuary. We spent a good couple of hours there taking photos and checking out the Black bear sanctuary, that was kind of small but okay, credible for Laos.

One of the tiers near Kuang Si Falls - Luang Prabang - Laos


Kuang Si Falls - Luang Prabang - Laos

.

Later that evening we made it back to Luang Prabang and obviously stopped off for some additional alcohol somewhere along the line. It was at this point that we made our fatal logistical error, it was a price to be paid for dreams which later became those that were to remain unfulfilled. As JJ knew, I had always had it in my mind to check out the Plain of Jars just outside of Phonsovan. The critical issue was how to get there? Flights out of LP were once a week and the only realistic mode of transport was a 6-7hr bus ride, culminating in what we thought would be a quick ‘hit and run mission’. The alternative was to head straight down to Vang Vieng and miss the Plain altogether ,mentally I wasn’t exactly prepared for that option. So the way we figured it is that we’d get to Phonsovan the next day, check out the Plain of Jars the following down and then fly out to Vientiane in the afternoon, then make a b-line up to Vang Vieng in the evening. Fast paced, high energy and all good in theory, you know what they say about the best laid plans however...yeah, I'll follow that up in the next entry.