Jac’s Journey

For this journey, I had the choice of the VIP air-con tourist minibus (5 hours), the ‘just plain tourist minibus’ (5 hours) or the public bus (7 hours). Based on my previous experience of Laos transportation, I went for the…….

…public bus!

Am I nuts, I hear you ask?

Probably.

But, first things first. The day did not start well. I overslept a little, so was behind myself from the start. I rushed to the post office to send a parcel home. After an hour with Laos bureacracy, they sent me away for another hour because they were closing for lunch. Another 45 minutes after the lunch break, I eventually got my parcel in the post and headed to the bus station (is this a record for how long it takes to send a parcel?).

So I’d missed my bus. It was a two hour wait for the next one. Now, the thing about getting to the bus station early is that you get first dibs on a decent seat. This can be a problem because you become quite precious about your decent seat, and it doesn’t always remain so for the duration of the journey.

The journey started so well. I was quite impressed with myself, cos I’d just held a conversation in French for around 25 minutes – I’d been cracking jokes, the lot. So, I spread my chuffed-with-myselfness out across two (decent) seats. As the bus filled up at later stops, I got a man and his son beside me. Three people on a seat made for two. As you can imagine, I was miffed about my decent seat now being rubbish cos it was the only seat on the bus with three bums on it.

Next, the man and his son got travel sick.

Generally, Laotians don’t travel well. On any given bus, there are at least a few puking into plastic bags. And this was a big bus. With a lot of plastic bags. Someone just behind us spewed, the smell wafted over the bus, curses were muttered, windows were opened and the other weak tums caved – an orchestral chorus of spewing began.

So, there’s me, squashed up against the window, now feeling sorry for the man and his son, and over my decent-seat-trauma. Despite the language barrier, we became quite a team. He or his son (or both) would chuck into a plastic bag. (They were obviously well-practiced as they sealed the bag on their faces so well, I got no waft.) The man would make eye contact with me, I’d open the window and he’d send a sick-bomb flying out the bus window. (All Laotians do this – I’d have been taken for a nutter if I’d tried to stop him.) As he was too sick to care where it landed, I was alone in being amused to see where it ended up – especially when he sick-bombed while we were passing through a village.

I don’t think I’ve ever travelled on buses with so much character – in their structure/materials (often brown tape and string holds them together), in their erratic and unpredictable timings, in their amusing assortment of cargo (from bags of fruit and vegetables to live chickens) and these incredible passengers, who puke every time they get on a bus, but still do it, who can fall asleep on the edge of a coin, and who always seem to connect with random foreigners – even when they’re in a huff cos their decent seat turned rubbish.

Nong Khiaw had been a real surprise. I had planned to pass through on my way to Muang Ngoi, but stayed two nights and loved it. So, my hopes were high for Muang Ngoi – which was a relative disappointment.

The tiny village on the river has become a magnet for backpackers. Every second building is a guesthouse. It seems like you can get laundry done in every house in town. Tour offices are dotted around the place. And the village only has a couple of streets, all of which seem to be strewn with litter.

A wander around revealed this disappointment quickly, but I had put my laundry in at the guesthouse, couldn’t get it back until the next afternoon, and there’s only one boat a day – in the morning. So I settled in with my book for some chilling by the river, appreciating the spectacular views, eating, thinking and Beer Laos. The guesthouse, and the family who ran it, were just lovely. The food was great, they really looked after me. My hut had a balcony, which overlooked a green lawn, with a sculpture made from UXO, towards the stunning green of the Nam Ou river.

The highlight of Muang Ngoi was leaving. I took a six hour boat ride from Muang Ngoi to Luang Prabang – this was the replacement boat trip for the one I missed getting to Luang Nam Tha – and it was worth the wait.

The landscape was stunning – craggy karst hills, luscious green trees, villages perched on the banks of the river with people washing clothes in the river, fishing and kids playing. Our boat weaved in and out of the sandbank islands, the captain knowing exactly which route to take to avoid the shallow rocks hidden just below the surface. As the water level is low at this time of year, occasionally we were riding small rapids – probably grades 1 and 2. When we got close to some more challenging rapids, the captain dropped us off to walk along the shore, while he tackled the rapids on his own. The timing was perfect – I needed to stretch my legs.

One set of rapids in particular was incredibly beautiful. We surfed over the top of white water. I glanced back and the sun was glinting off the water, which tumbled over large pebbles in a riot of colour and light. Listening to some favourite tunes on my iPod finished off the experience – at one point I was almost in tears as I listened to the perfect soundtrack and watched the spectacular landscape.

The water itself hypnotised me. I’ve never seen water so green. I tried to capture the colour in my head to describe it to you all later, but it kept changing in the sun. It was the green of growth and life – chlorophyll green; somewhere between bottle green and Celtic green. Beautiful.

And this stunning river trip was bringing me to Luang Prabang – one of the most romantic destinations and beautiful cities in South East Asia…

Muang Ngoi and Nam Ou River

The bus journey to Nong Khiaw was another Laotian epic. I failed to arrive an hour early (in line with my new resolution), pitching up around 8am for the 8am bus – pushing it, I know. We eventually rolled out of the bus station at 11am. I give up. I have no idea how to anticipate buses in Laos – they simply leave when they’re full. The waiting hours were filled with entertainment as an adorable toddler clambered all over the passengers and boxes on the bus. She looked around a year old, and made me pine for my niece, Hope. Jo – if Hope’s filled with as much energy as this little girl (no doubt she is), you must be exhausted!

Setting off, we passed yet more beautiful villages. The further we travelled from UdomXai, the more impressive the scenery became. Arriving into Nong Khiaw I was in awe of the striking karst scenery around me and decided to put down roots for a couple of nights, before heading further up the river. Nong Khiaw is a village of a few hundred people and is blessed with a beautiful river setting. It takes about 30 minutes to wander the whole village (slowly). Imagine my delight when I found a cinema and a music concert!

I found the music concert by taking a wrong turning, walking too far and then hearing a lot of noise from behind the trees at the edge of the village. I could see a stage with screening all around it, huge amps, a light rig peeking over the top and a large field with people selling food, playing kataw (like ‘keepy-uppy’ over a volleyball net) and football. Swarmed by Laotian kids, I learned that the music concert started later that night.

Strolling back through the village to have some dinner before the concert, stopping off to watch a game of petanque and be presented with flowers and leaves by giggling little girls, I found the cinema. This is basically a DVD rental shop where you choose your film and then watch it in one of the 4 back rooms with large screen TV and surround sound. In back-water Laos!

A few of us from the guest house wandered round to the music concert together. One German guy was muttering, ‘I’ll go to see, but I don’t think I’ll go in – the music will be crap.’ Some people! You’re in a village in Northern Laos. Who do you expect? Madonna? I rolled my eyes and ignored him.

There was singing and dancing – a real festival atmosphere – all the locals were clearly loving it. I felt lucky to be there while it was on – apparently events like this are rare in Nong Khiaw.

Next day I hired a bicycle and cycled up to the caves a few km outside the village. The caves had acted as regional headquarters for the Pathet Lao against the Lao Government/Americans during the war.

Which war? During the Vietnam War, the Geneva Conference had established that Laos was an officially neutral country. However, as the Ho Chi Minh trail passed through part of Laos, the North Vietnamese were providing support to the communist Pathet Lao, and there were hordes of Hmong villagers willing to fight with the Royal Lao Army against the Pathet Lao, the CIA set up a secret, officially denied, operation. There’s an airfield near Vientiane (capital of Laos) that is still closed to tourists. At one time, it was the busiest airstrip in the world, with planes taking off almost every minute. The US government officially denied any involvement in the Lao Civil War, but facilitated the dropping of enough bombs to make Laos the most bombed country in the world. (I do wonder if that is still a truth considering the extent of bombing in Iraq and Afghanistan). Importantly for the Americans, this effort constituted an essential ’second front’ in the Vietnam war.

Read more here –
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laotian_Civil_War
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vietnam_War

Just outside the caves, a bomb crater remained, it’s almost perfect circle now filled with growth and looking harmless. Inside, a network of caves had provided shelter for the Pathet Lao and villagers from Nong Khiaw during the bombings. My guide took me to a second set of caves, visited less often, lit a bamboo torch and led me through the narrowest of openings to…the Nong Khiaw branch of the bank of Luang Prabang. They had a bank in the caves to fund the communist operations. Squeezing through the caves, with the sweat running in rivers from the built up heat inside and the added heat of the bamboo torch, I was in a state of wonder at how these people had lived during such a horrendous time. But in a sense, the horrendous time is not over. There is still a massive amount of unexploded ordinance (UXO) across rural Laos. It prevents families from working fields not yet cleared, or they take the risk and people are blown to bits as their hoe or plough disturbs an unexploded bomb. Various charities and the Lao government are working to clear UXO, but it is a slow, expensive process. In the meantime, villagers who have lived on the same land for generations are unable to farm and make a living, and their children are blown up as they find and play with UXO.

Sobering stuff.

Nong Khiaw

Luang Nam Tha to UdomXai

Yesterday, cycling through the villages around Luang Nam Tha was a joy. Arriving solo on a bicycle gets you a different reception than trekking in with a guide or leaping down from a shiny 4 wheel drive. People call out Sabai-dii (hello), hordes of village kids grin, laugh and wave, calling out “Sabai-dii, Thank you, Bye bye”. The kids are all half-naked and unbelievably cute. When I was trekking with my guide out of Muang Sing, I’d felt a little uncomfortable visiting the villages – it had shades of going to a ‘human zoo’ that I really didn’t like. Cycling in on my own is a different story altogether – I much prefer it.

Walking up to a waterfall just beyond the village, I passed a grandfather and his two grandchildren – a boy and girl under 5. I crossed the stream at the bottom of the waterfall to see it from the other side, sitting for a few minutes to enjoy the water crashing down the rocks in front of me. Turning to head back, I saw their 3 faces peeping at me from behind a wooden railing. It’s wonderful to bring such happiness – all I did was smile, wave and say Sabai-dii and suddenly it was like I’d made their day!

This morning brought a lesson in Laotian public transportation. I had the option of paying $50US to share a chartered minibus, but chose instead to get the public bus for $4US. My bus was at 12. I arrived at the bus station at 11.30 to find that the bus had left at 11.20 because it was full. The next bus was at 14.30 so I settled in to wait. Luckily, I’m reading about Dervla Murphy’s travels through Afghanistan and Pakistan in 1963. With just a 3 hour wait, I felt blessed by comparison. My bus eventually departed just after 3, almost full of people, and piled high with crates of tangerines in the aisle.

And the Laos transportation lesson is – arrive an hour early for your bus, and be prepared to wait 2 hours.

The public bus was exactly the experience I’d been hoping for. Being the first person waiting for the 2.30 bus, I was able to stake my claim to a decent seat. Two hours later, my legs were jammed in with bags and people. The bus was filled beyond capacity and kept stopping to let more people on. Four plastic garden chairs were stacked in the aisle for this purpose, but you couldn’t get at them for the crates of tangerines, so people were on each other’s knees, on the floor, cross-legged in front of the windscreen (no way I was sitting there!) and standing by the door. I’ve sat on the floor of the aisle on a Filipino bus, but this was the fullest bus I’d ever travelled on.

About an hour from UdomXai, we were going up a hill and the clutch went. How do I know this? Because what I heard someone say in Laotian sounded like ‘clutch’. I realised just how relaxed I am – I chuckled and thought, well, I’ve been lucky enough to avoid bus breakdowns in the middle of nowhere so far, maybe this is my breakdown. I got off the bus to pee. By the time I got back, they were all sitting waiting for me and ready to go. No way! The driver’s fixed the clutch! Well, apparently not, he just got round it. Every time he stopped and restarted the bus, there was a vigorous hopping of ‘kangaroo petrol’, people falling about, loud laughter and cheers and then we got going.

The little old lady behind me on the bus was a treasure. She was there almost as early as me for the 2.30 bus, and was reading Dervla over my shoulder. I showed her the picture on the inside cover and the route this crazy woman took from Dunkirk to Delhi (by bicycle!) in 1963. (Dervla – you’re amazing – I want to adopt you as my granny!) Next thing, she was showing me her book and proceeded to read it out loud for the next hour.

Outside the window, the scenery was a mixture of yet more bamboo-hut villages, beautiful forest, hills fading into the mist and bleak slopes with knobbly stumps of burnt tree trunk – the result of ’slash and burn’ methods of preparing land for sugar cane, rubber or other cash crops greedily consumed by neighbouring China.

Tomorrow, I’m off to a little village just north of Nong Kiaow. There’s no internet, no phone and electricity for only 4 hours a day, so you won’t hear from me until I’m back to civilisation. Apparently this place is hard to leave, so my plan to stay a few days may well turn into a week…

Arriving into Chiang Khong at 6pm, the border to Laos had closed, so it was an early start next morning. A fleet of minivans chucked my fellow Chiang Mai-ers out at the same guesthouse in town. Much as I had had a nice time on my minibus, particularly chatting with a bloke from Stirling (so nice to hear a Scottish accent), I decided to break free from all these package tour folks and find my own place.

The Bamboo Riverside was just lovely. A little bamboo hut, reminiscent of my hut on Sipalay, was my home for the night, and the Bamboo restaurant served up some great food. Their speciality was Mexican food, which was a bizarre meal to eat in Thailand while looking across the river to Laos. The owner made me chuckle – I had ordered and was tucking into my quesedillas when he decided he would really like the (only) other table to stop talking, look at their menus and order. So he started running around with a ‘Kitchen Closed’ sign yelling that as no-one had ordered and there were so many people in the restaurant, he was going to have to close the kitchen. We were all in stitches at his antics and there was soon just one big conversation between everyone in the restaurant.

Next morning was the mayhem of a South-East Asian land-border crossing. No Chinese police here keeping order. A slow-moving queue to get my Thai exit-stamp, a ferry (oversized canoe with engine) skimming the surface of the Mekong across to Laos, another queue to pay for my visa, another queue to actually enter the country. And I was in Laos. All in just over an hour, this wasn’t at all bad.

I had hoped to get a boat north for two days to Luang Nam Tha, but at a cost of 8500 Thai Baht versus 400 Baht for the bus, it would have been foolish. I rejigged my itinery, found another (cheaper) river trip I could do instead and got the bus. Our bus had a merry little band on board – we ended up hanging around together for a few days and going trekking in Muang Sing.

The trek was really enjoyable for the most part. Unfortunately the clouds were low-lying and our route took us up into the mountains, and into the clouds. At first trekking in the midst of clouds was quite a novelty. Trees and massive bamboo plants were rising out of the mist just feet in front of me. It was eerie and silent and beautiful. Arriving into the Akha village where we would spend the night, it was lovely exploring a tiny mountain-top village in the middle of a cloud – you couldn’t see more than a few huts away at any time.

Next morning, after a chilly night, the clouds had lost their appeal. Particularly when we arrived at a clearing and the guide said ‘If it wasn’t so cloudy today, you would be able to see Myanmar that way and China that way’. Thanks. I really needed to know that.

I had chosen to trek in this area because the Laos government has developed, with Unesco, an approach to trekking where the villagers earn the most significant chunk of the money paid by tourists. The agency we went with paid 90% of the money to the villages and guides. This is really important in Muang Sing as it used to be a major opium producing area. No opium has been produced there since 2005/6, but there are still a large number of opium addicts among the villagers. One elderly man lit up a big fat opium joint in front of us (it’s condoned among the elderly in the hill tribes). Several younger men told us about how things had improved in the last few years, since the tourists had been coming, and how they had stopped smoking opium now. Stories like this made up for a rather depressing second day of trekking through hours of soggy clouds.

Laos has had several treats for me already. My favourite is Beer Laos! This is a legendary beer amongst travellers in Asia because it tastes so good. Carlsberg bought a 50% stake in the brewery a few years back and sent their chemists out here to try to improve the recipe. After a few months of tinkering, the chemists came back and said ‘Sorry guv, this is as good as it gets. There’s nothing we can do to improve this beer.’

And does it taste that good? Oh, yes!

You can’t hardly get it outside Laos because all the other brewers are so afraid of having it compete in their markets. So until Carlsberg start shipping it all over the world, you’ll just have to take my word for it…or come visit yourself!

Another treat has been becoming a millionaire. I changed 5200 Thai Baht (84 pounds) when I came into the country and got 1,370,000 Laos kip. I don’t think I’ll ever be a real millionaire, so this put quite a smile on my face!

Another little moment had me in stitches in the main street in Luang Nam Tha, a little town in the midst of the protected forest area. It was early evening and I was strolling along, having had a lovely natter with some great folks in my guesthouse, when a bunch of scooters went past me on the main road. They were driving 4 abreast on the empty road, taking up most of it. One of the scooter drivers was playing the guitar and all 4 of them were singing at the top of their voices. For a moment, I thought I was back in the Philippines!

I’ve decided to hang around here and do some more trekking and cycling, before heading east for more Northern Laos treats.

Muang Sing

After Thailand coming as a bit of a surprise to me, I headed for Chiang Mai ‘cos it was a place I’d really wanted to visit last time, but couldn’t fit it in. I’ve had a lovely (nearly) 2 weeks here; wandering around wats, strolling city walls and moats, cycling to the forest, lounging by the pool (yes, I splashed out – 9 quid a night – on a great place that has a pool!), partaking of Pad Thai, reading a ton of books and haggling in the markets. It’s been good for me to get the old grey matter moving by learning some new skills – I really enjoyed learning Thai Massage.

But at the back of my mind, it’s been turning over and over…where next, where next?

In one of my beloved second-hand bookshops, I picked up a Thailand guidebook. Scanning through the pages, I just couldn’t get excited…Pai, yip, would be lovely, ho hum, Mai Sariang, hmmm, yip, anything else, Chiang Rai, dum de dum. They’re all fantastic places but my excitement level was well below acceptable. Just not good enough.

I worried about this for a few days. I’m nearly 6 months into my trip. This is the point when people tend to get a little travel-weary. And I have had to give myself a kick up the jacsky a couple of times already – reminding myself how lucky I am to have this opportunity. But another swift havaiana to the posterior just wasn’t doing it.

I started to generate other options, and found excitement in Laos! So, I’m heading there tomorrow. I get the bus to Chiang Khong, stay there one night, then cross to Laos the next morning. My current plan is to head a little way south along the Mekong, pick up a north-bound boat at a little village/river-port, then take a 2-day boat trip north up the Nam Tha River to a protected area that specialises in eco-tourism and trekking.

And I’m really excited!!

I’m not sure why I couldn’t find excitement in Thailand’s destinations – there are loads of gorgeous places in this country. Perhaps it’s been spending so long here in Chiang Mai… I have been amazed at the massive numbers of loud-mouthed mid-American tourists who talk inane nonsense, at the top of their voices, drowning out all other conversation in the restaurant/coffee shop/city square!!! There are several of them in my guesthouse, and the horrible kids are just like the rude parents. Pah!

Or maybe I just needed a new challenge. I think I’m going to find that in Laos…!

Here are some photos from Chiang Mai – I’m having uploading problems at the moment, so have more to add – come back soon! [later edit - more photos added]

Chiang Mai

Well, this is a surprise! I wasn’t expecting to be in Thailand for a couple of months yet.

But, things change, and it’s one of my favourite aspects of travelling!

Arriving into Bangkok I made my way to one of the worst hostels I’ve ever stayed in. Got hardly any sleep ‘cos I was convinced the bed was full of all kinds of creepy-crawlies, then got the hell outta there and onto the overnight train to Chiang Mai.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Bangkok. Last time I was there was 7 years ago and I want to go and visit all those wonderful sights again. I loved them so much last time and want to get some digital photos, cos the previous photos are all on film. But, I’ll be back later this trip, and Chiang Mai was calling.

Chiang Mai is a special place. A mountain city, it’s Thailand’s second city and a major tourist haunt. There are almost as many westerners around the city centre as there are Thais. With that comes all kinds of treats like great coffee shops and restaurants, second hand bookshops, fast internet everywhere and loads to see and do.

The guidebooks say it’s the sort of place where you come for a few days and stay for a few weeks. And it’s happening to me!

I spent a few days wandering around, gazing at temples, the city walls, drinking coffee and browsing markets. I hired a bike and braved the Thai traffic to head out to a Wat (temple) in the middle of the forest outside the city. I’ve had massages and chilled out, reading loads of books and then swapped them for new ones at the second hand bookshops.

While I’m here, I’ve decided to learn some new skills! Today I went outside the city to an organic farm where I learned to cook 5 different Thai dishes – and pretty well if I do say so myself! For those of you who’ve tasted the delights of my Thai red curry, just wait ’til you taste the new/improved one! And boy can I make great spring rolls! Mmmmm. I’ve got a whole recipe book to try out on you when I get back. If anyone fancies getting their hands on a recipe before then, email me and I’ll send through whatever you fancy.

Tomorrow I start a course to learn Thai Massage. It’s the traditional Thai approach blended with Chinese acupressure, so the perfect kind of massage for me to bring home from this trip!

Ahem…get in line…believe it or not, there’s already a queue!

And then, once I get through with that, there’s a whole load of temples and countryside and villages to see…I may be some time…