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.

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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.
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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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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

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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.

Luang Prabang - The 381

Luang Prabang (Laos)

One of the first things that you see when you enter Luang Prabang is Mt.Phousi, alternatively, if you enter during the night as we did, you'll see Wat Chom Si, all lit up and sitting on the summit of Mt. Phousi. Obviously for people that know me, once I see something like that my very next endeavour will be to get up to the top of the thing and have a look around at the earliest point that an opportunity presents itself. So on this day, with just a little bit of convincing on my part, JJ and I attacked Mt.Phousi with the reckless abandon that a climb like that warrants. Reflecting on the day now, I don't actually remember doing much more that day other than the climb and bargaining for a chess set later that evening, could the climb have taken that much out of us?

 

Buddhist temple of Haw Kham (Royal Complex) - as viewed from the start of our climb up Mount Phousi

So somewhere near the start of the climb up you find out that it's 381 steps to the top, taking you closer to the heavens and also presenting a half decent view of Luang Prabang. I'm sure somewhere at this point we also had a Swiss garlic man sighting, disturbing on many a front as 1) There was just no way that we wanted to chat with him, 2) He was still wearing the same clothes that he'd spent 15hrs on a bus ride from Huay Xai to Luang Prabang in, if they were smelling bad then well then I shudder to think at to the odour that those man juices could be presenting now and 3) He was trying out his game on some poor unsuspecting female traveller, oh well, maybe the offer of garlic actually worked out for him on this occasion!?

Part of the 381 - Mount Phousi - Luang Prabang

After hitting the first 100 steps or so of the climb the staircase started to zig-zag up the hill. It's not that bad a walk although with a bit of sun and a high amount of smoke in the air it made it difficult for some of the combatants that were trying to scale the peak on that day. Never the less, as you move up the hill the views back down to the  centre of Luang Prabang and over the Mekong are magnificent, if not made just a little disappointing however by the immense amount of smoke in the air. Although what you lose in terms of air quality and clarity you make up for with some amazing sunsets.

The Mekong from the top of Mt. Phousi - Luang Prabang - Laos

Luang Prabang sits at the confluence of the Mekong River and the Khan River. Once you make it up The 381 you get an absolute panoramic view across the area, making the struggle up the hill  worthwhile. What you also get at the top are you common variety souvenir hawkers and kip opportunists that will take those hard earned kip out of you either with their sly moves, fast talking or emotional game play. Like other places in Asia what you sometimes come across are people that have cane/straw cages that contain several sparrows, the release of which will grant you ,the payor, a kind wish from the anonymous person selling them to you  via manipulation of your heart strings and the clear observation of the pathetic imprisonment of the defenceless sparrows. Of course, as JJ pointed out, these sparrows don't fly away into their bought freedom but rather fly back to the residence of the owner, only to be brought back up the hill the very next day. My argument to this however was that at least they would get to experience a little bit of freedom rather than being caged up for the rest of the day. So we both purchased about an hour of their freedom for a paltry sum of perhaps 10cents, to me at least it was worth the trouble and effort.

JJ on the summit of Mt.Phousi - Luang Prabang - Laos

The sun, cutting through the haze and the frangipani trees - Mt.Phousi - Luang Prabang - Laos

Yeah, always knew that I had big bells!

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The rest of the time we spent taking shots of the surrounding area and wondering at how amazing it was, and what it would be like on a clear day. After which we climbed down the other side of the hill and made our way, I'm sure, into another random bar where the alcohol was cheap and worth our time in being occupied for several an hour.

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Later that evening we wondered through the markets again where I did manage to pick up a fantastic chess set for approximately $30USD. Sure, perhaps a little expensive for these neck of the woods but it certainly serves as a quality piece. The bargaining with the lady took a couple of rounds, and it also took me walking away only for a little voice inside my head to scream out and say,' Henry, that set is yours, now go back and pick it up!'. I think I learnt my lesson from Vietnam, if there's something that you particularly like, don't walk away, pick it up and take it home because If you don' you'll only sit back and regret the fact later on. Of course, this theory does not apply to STD's, lets just be clear about that.

 

Luang Prabang - your 15 hours are up

Luang Prabang (Laos)

We really should have done our research regarding the trip from Huay Xai, even good ‘ole Wikipedia nominates the path down from the border as treacherous, poorly lit and a road that generally isn’t very well maintained. All those elements may have been true, but the thing that got me was the pedal to the metal option that the bus driver took on the way in. He must have been cranking somewhere in the 120kph bracket on a fairly ordinary road and if I wasn’t half in a daze from the prior 15hrs then I would have been a lot more concerned for our safety.

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Stealing our way into the night (how do you actually do that anyway?),JJ and I bedded down at the Somkhounmuong Guesthouse, a small, quaint and quiet little place about a 5 min walk from the main street in town. Jason and Audrey decided to stay at another guesthouse for the evening and as they say, that was about that. JJ and I only saw those two twice more before jumping a flight from KL to home, and there departure from LP was completely discourteous and full of spite, why, I don't actually know. All that I do know is that they next day they disappeared without leaving word, a note, or responding to my texts. On reflection, a selfish and pretty low thing to do. Any sort of word just to let us know what they were doing would have sufficed. Needless to say, having Jason off my back was actually a blessing.

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The next day JJ and I had our first taste of Luang Prabang and really, our first opportunity to unwind and stay put in a place for long enough to try and absorb our surrounds. It was extremely easy to see why this place is one of the most popular and most visited town in Laos. Firstly from an architectural standpoint there was a distinct fusion between that old style French provincial, which of course dominates in certain areas of Laos, especially throughout it's 19th and 20th century heyday and that of older type traditional Lao style, with some other modern urban style in between which I can’t quite put my finger on, other than to call it typically Western. Needless to say, the town is geared specifically for tourism these days but to me that doesn’t really matter. It’s a charming place and doesn’t have the same hustle and bustle feel about it that other South East Asian towns/cities have, not that there’s a lot of hustle and bustle in Laos generally. The main streets are devoid of any real traffic other than bicycles and motorcycles, from what I remember, that’s because there was a ban that was placed on any heavy vehicles polluting the main streets with their noise, size and generally overbearing nature.
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On our first day in Luang Prabang, JJ and I pretty much just wondered the streets and did what usually comes naturally in our situation, we bar hopped. Stopping at some fairly picturesque places perched atop of the Mekong we enjoyed several cocktails during the afternoon and took in the feel that is LP. Without question it’s a magnificent place and it’s quite obvious why it became World Heritage listed by UNESCO in 1995. It has that maintained old world feel and charm whilst still allowing itself to be modern in part, oh, and there’s some great little wine bars along the way to boot.

JJ perusing the cocktail menu - overlooking the Mekong - Luang Prabang, Laos.

One of the great bars/restaurants overlooking the Mekong - Luang Prabang, Laos.

Our first day passed us by fairly quickly as it usually does when you want a day like that to slow down. In the early evening, commencing at dusk (approximately 5pm) we discovered that the main street closes down entirely to traffic and becomes an interesting night market for the next 4-5hrs. It’s not an exotic market by any stretch of the imagination, obviously its gauged to acquiring the tourist dollar but again, so what. It had that chilled, romantic air about it, and strolling through the place ever so casually was the right way to just unwind from the previous few days and attempt to get over the vehement Lao super-parasite that was still cutting a destructive path deep within the farthest reaches of my stomach and bowels.

TH Sakkarin Street - Main street of Luang Prabang, at dusk.

Another great place to have a drink! - Luang Prabang - Laos

Wondering through the night markets - Luang Prabang - Laos

Huay Xai - 15 hours out of Huay Xai with Captain Detoxification

Huay Xai (Laos) to Luang Prabang (Laos)

Our stay in Huay Xai the next day was unintentional in that had the Gibbon Experience not been so intense then we would have been either on our way to Luang Namtha or perhaps Luang Prabang depending on our mood. As it happened our day of hiatus was in a town that essentially acts as an entry point for those individuals that have been trekking in the north of Thailand and were looking for the cheap and nasty route into Laos. Well, it's not that bad actually, a day of doing not much actually really assisted.Most of the day was spent inside watching TV. JJ and I did manage to stroll down the street at one point and lock the four of us in for a bus ride to Luang Prabang the next day. We did, as all good travellers do, ask the right questions as to time, nature of the bus, departure point, etc. I add this line here because my 'mate' at a later point in time decided to be a tool and hammer me about it the next morning, like I was some moron who had never travelled in his life.
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Later that evening we caught up with our two Dutch friends that saved our bacon on the walk out of the jungle. It ended up being a pretty cruisey evening in all, we managed to find ourselves a decent dinner and some entertaining conversation in the middle of nowhere. I think from memory Claus and his wife (can't remember her name) were going to get up the next day and do some hardcore running as they were in marathon training, well, something along those lines. They were fitness freaks and then some, much respect for keeping to their routine out here.

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As our jump day closed and the sun broke on what was to be a nightmare of a bus ride, all four of us wandered outside waiting for the pick up that would take us to the bus station. It was at this point that Jase decided to have is morning 'princess bitch' and went at me regarding my knowledge of how and where we would be picked up and whether I had all the details. Truthfully, I've never really come close to hitting a friend in my life by f*** me, did he push me at times, this being one of those times. It's like I'd never travelled in my life and was some reason required to get his ok on the travel logistics in order to make everything reasonable in his mind, and really, what would have been the harm if the pick-up for our bus wasn't on time in any case? We'd just have hailed a tuk-tuk in order to take us to the bus station, no big deal, no reason for the melodrama. As I've said in early posts, it  felt like he  deliberately gunning for me at times for reasons that I'll never understand and thankfully I never took a swing at him, even though it came really close to happening.

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By powers of sheer 'luck' we made it to the bus station with the actual pick-up that we'd arranged and managed to be there approximately 20 mins prior to departure, who knows how the hell I organised that, a bloody miracle in my books? In any case, this is where the mental torture for some of us began. If the Gibbon Experience pushed our physical tolerance, well then the next 15hours across the top of Northern Laos was to push our mental endurance, especially as we were told that the trip was only to take 10 hours.

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A little while into the journey some random Swiss dude that popped up down at the back of the bus started chatting with one of us, don't remember who he commenced his conversation with but I'll blame JJ for it, she knows how to pick the winners when it comes to random conversation. I think at one point someone passed him a common copy of the Lonely Planet guide to Laos, it was right there and then that I wanted to strangle this head band wearing freak and submit him into a physically imposed silence. As he read passages from the book all we heard was a continuous chorus of 'Oh wow....wow!' and then him looking around at as us in order to gain some acknowledgment in his strange request to read passages out aloud to us, passages that we'd all read a number of times in our travels to date in any case. I'm not sure if he was looking to be acknowledged, or was looking support, or whatever the hell it was, but he was irritating the daylights out of me. Worse was to come however, his commentary on the bus driver also drove me insane. Every time the driver shifted gears, or did something not quite to his liking or his bus driving expertise, this guy laughed and made sounds that had me believing that he was about to ejaculate all over himself. It was a little disconcerting to tell you the truth. Still further, and by far the most excruciating part of our interaction with this imbecile was at the point where we had stopped at a bus station and Mr Swiss, by all his grace and power of courtesy and decency decided to buy a few cloves and garlic, just so he could start chomping on them, in the bus. Now the smell emanating from him was so foul and disgusting after that point not something I was happy to deal with for the next few hours, coupled with his lack of deodorant and generally strange manner, this creature from the country of neutrality needed a warhead up his rear in order to wake him up. I did pull up our Swiss friend for a moment and called him out on putrid the smell was that was coming from his direction, and to quote this freak verbatim, his response to me 'Oh really, I can't smell it, and yet I really hate it when other people are eating garlic because the smell is so bad'. He then continued to bite down on these mammoth cloves and offers me one for my trouble! Seriously, when did you check out of the asylum?

Somewhere in Laos, I think a few hours out of Luang Namtha

Jason and Audrey, 'loving' the experience of 15hrs on the road...oh yeah!

15 hours of fun!

Anyway, our 'fun times' continued for hours and hours after that point in time! If is wasn't the Swiss Multivite coming up with some outlandish stunt then it was the Lao penchant for excruciating music having to be blared out at ridiculous decibels for hours on end that did the trick. As we later came to learn, but not appreciate, the custom on long journeys is for crap Lao music to blare in the bus so that anyone that was trying to get some sleep and forget the difficulties of the dirt track ride (aka, Highway One) , was continuously kept in the present and feeling 'tip top'. Certainly for me, if Mr Swiss and the music wasn't part of the ride I could have survived relatively unscathed and easily could have zoned out, I think JJ was of the same mindset also. The most difficult part was actually the last hour when we were tired of guessing when our arrival into Luang Prabang was to be as most of our guesses had been somewhere in the vicinity of 3-4hours prior when we did actually arrive. As for Audrey and Jason, well, I know for a fact that the ride pissed Jason off, as most things on this trip tended to do. In the last hour there was heated discussion between them as to what their next steps would be and whether they would be leaving for Vang Vieng almost immediately after enduring this ride. Weeks later, what amused me the most in relation to this particular situationis that Jason almost had the hide to blame me for the llogistical inadequacies of his journey due to the fact that the bus ride had taken so long? Bloody hell, really? So I ask the question in return, who was the one to initially cut days off their own schedule in order to get a dumb ass tattoo completed in KL? As always, the kid needs someone to blame and it was almost always going to be me.

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In any case, we got into Luang Prabang sometime after 11pm on that day, wrecked from another draining day and looking forward to some time in one spot for a change. Not sure of what restaurant we stopped in prior to turning in for the night but it was fantastic, just what we needed after experiencing the ravages of jungle food, Lao style.