A last minute decision had us buying a bus ticket south. We decided we had
wasted enough time and that backtracking would only be wasting more. Our
original plan was to head back to Vang Vieng to wait out the four days until
our Vietnam
visa started. We had waited all day, checked out of our guesthouse, and paid
our way to the bus station, only to find out that the bus they told us was
leaving at 6 o'clock, actually left at 3 o'clock. Now I know what you're
thinking. This was a simple mistake on our part. This is actually how it is for
us every day here. It is impossible to trust anyone or anything. Complaining is
only met with a blank stare and a shrug or a blatant laugh in your face. The
frustration some days is indescribable. That day was one of them. Once we paid
to get back into town, we found that nearly every guestroom, including the one
we just checked out of were full. We ended up in the last two beds in a dorm on
the rooftop of some dodgy hotel.
The next morning we arrived at the station to board the supposedly
"swanky" VIP bus Ian and I decided was worth dishing out the extra
cash for. Let me just say that a VIP bus ticket does not guarantee VIP
treatment. Ian and I were shoved to the back of the bus, and somehow ended up
with other peoples luggage piled at our feet for the entire ten hour trip.
Typical.
We arrived in Pakse in the morning and were ushered onto another bus,
......another bus, and finally dropped off at the landing for the island of Don Khan. We were actually supposed to
be going to Don KONG, so back onto another bus, and finally a boat. Phew! We rented
some bicycles and spent the day riding around the island, which was covered in
beautiful little bamboo hut villages, with children running after us,
screaming, "HELLO!!!!".
The next day we hired a boat and headed to another island, Don Det, a beautiful
little tropical island resting on the Cambodian boarder. We spent four days on
the island, sleeping in a little bamboo hut, complete with a porch with two
hammocks, overlooking the Mekong river.
Because Don Det is at the very bottom of Laos, not many travelers go there,
making it a semi-secluded tropical paradise. Our first day there, we rented bicycles,
crossed the bridge to the next island over, and found a tiny beach where we
hired a local fisherman to take us to see some rare fresh water dolphins, of
which only about 16 still exist. We hunkered down in the small narrow boat,
sitting one in front of the other, the sides only inches above the water. It
was amazing how expertly the fisherman maneuvered us through the strong
currents in that precarious little vessel! We were dropped off on a large rock
in the middle of the water and for the next two hours watched the dolphins put
on a great show. Fianlly we headed back, stopping for a quick dip in the
rapids, and a battle back to the shore!
That night when we entered our hut, a surprise awaited me. My advice would now
be, when confronted with a giant cockroach sitting on your open bag, do not
scream or make any sudden moves, because the safest, darkest place for that cockroach
to go will be inside your bag, which is exactly where this one went. Ian and I
spent the next hour on the porch shaking out each and every article in my bag.
Shoes, toothpaste, and underwear all being hurled at the wall every time I
thought I'd located it. But in the end, of course we never did. The thought
that it is still in there somewhere, and is probably a female, still haunts me
every time I open my bag.
Our next two days were peaceful and relaxing. We went to see some beautiful
waterfalls and Ian coerced a fisherman to take him out and teach him how to
throw a net. Ian did exceptionally well considering these boats are about three
feet wide and take considerable balance in order to just stand up in them, let
alone throw a very large, very heavy fish net. I was very proud! (*sniff*) I
don't think I have seen Ian happier. Picture the biggest grin you have ever
seen on his face. I’m pretty sure a childhood dream has just come true.
Things move even slower than usual on this island, and in Laos, things move SLOWLY. We had to
make sure to order our meals long before ever feeling hungry, as it takes about
an hour for meals to make an appearance. When they finally arrive, they come
one at a time in 15 minute intervals because rarely does a kitchen have more
than one pot or pan. This also means you are rarely ever eating together, and
going out to dinner in a group takes a lot of patience. The kitchen usually
forgets half the things you ordered so you are left to sit and wonder whether
it is supposed to take two hours to make rice or if you should just give up on
the hope of ever getting it. The best is when you are presented with something completely
different from what you ordered, or your meal just doesn't show up at all,
simply because they ran out of whatever you ordered, and didn't feel it
necessary to tell you. This happens all the time. Also, without fail, one of us
always finds some sort of insect has beaten us to our meal - a fly, a worm, a
beetle. Since the locals actually eat these things anyway, when you call a
waiter over to see what you have discovered in your soup, the typical reaction
is a look that says, "So?". Ian and I make a habit of choosing
restaurants with English menus. On Don
Det it makes no difference because the wait staff could not speak or understand
English anyway. They couldn’t understand they’re own menus! Quite a
predicament. I’d say, "Chicken". They’d stare at me. I’d point to the
menu. Blank stare and shrug. I’d try to think of any other way to communicate
this. Since I can't draw to save my life, my chicken ends up looking like a
giraffe, and that's when they’d start to walk away. I’d start yelling,
"CHICKEN! CHICKEN!", as if saying it louder would make them
understand. It always comes down to that last resort where I am forced to reach
deep down and find my inner chicken, inner fish, inner pig, and
"Bawk", guppy lip or, "Oink", like a maniac. Tofu is a bit
harder to impersonate. A glimmer of hope. Does she understand? Will I actually
get my chicken? The waitress smiles, nods and walks away. After all that
effort, I end up with a bowl of cabbage anyway because of course, they have run
out of chicken.
After four wonderful days, reluctantly we boarded another boat to start our
looooooong journey to Hanoi, in North Vietnam.
We will miss you Laos!
Our time has come once again to onward march!
