Laos...
We left off at
Chiang Mai, leaving for Luang Prabang.
This time around, we opted for the easy route with our hostel; A few
extra dollars in exchange for a little less hassle. Tourists charged by “fake” border crossings
for their visa were too common a storey.
Everything unknown seems scary in the moment, but when we look back, the
border crossing was easy as pie. There
were 2 options, the more scenic route, a 3 day trip including 2 river boats
plus the 2 very necessary Thai massages to get the feeling back in your ‘seat’,
or the straight shot to the city by bus.
We chose the quick & painless.
Our trip to the border included a stop off at the White Temple (or
something close to that), a sparkling spectacle, plopped in the middle of
nowhere. Gnarly Gargoyles perched at the
entrance & distraught masks hanging from the trees out front added to its
wonder. Even the “No Smoking” signs
& road beacons were artistic sculptures of death. When you enter the temple, on either side are
hands from Hell, hoisting up human skulls.
Two beefy protectors guard the passage to the Temple, but once inside,
everything is tranquil & beautiful.
Number 1 Temple to date.
Luang
Prabang is a smaller French influenced city with not much to see other than
markets (which are still cool). Our
first priority was to sort our Vietnamese visas, which was a cake walk. Again, horror stories of how long they take,
or that they are fly-in only, difficult border crossings, etc. After a few circles, we spotted the Embassy
& with fingers crossed, filled out our forms, handing them in with
exaggerated Canadian smiles. Taking it,
without a glance, the guard says, “$40 for Tuesday, $50 for Monday, $60 for 5
minutes.”
Not wanting
to stay in Luang Prabang longer than we needed to, we chose the highest
price. No jokes, he actually drove us to
the bank & when we got back, our visas were stamped.
We exhaled
& hooked up with new found friends, Dave & Tanwen, for a trip to the
turquoise falls. Up early hoping to beat
the crowds, we jumped into the back of a truck & went winding through
country roads. But not before our driver
busted some major “loser laps” around town desperate to hook another few
foreigners.
Arriving
just when the sun was beginning to heat the day, we hiked to the top of the
falls (well, we tried) for a view of the valley. Gorgeous!
And, a nice little work out to make the chilly swimming holes that much
better. The swimming hole was youth
juice, complete with a rope swing & falls to jump from! The Chinese men standing on the side creeping
was a bit uncomfortable, but other than that, the day was bliss.
That
evening, we split up with our UK friends for some shopping & dining out at
the local market, which was tucked away down a grim alley. I said I would try to become a veggie (China
turned me onto the idea), & did quite well, but the smell of chicken breast
roasting over hot coals kyboshed that idea.
I hadn’t found white meat in soooo long.
It was like... How does Turbine Irvine put it? “Tiny little angels
dancing on your palette”. That together
with sticky rice made for a glorious meal out with my man. The simple things...
I won’t even
go into our accommodation here... Actually, yes I will. Budget sometimes gives you what you pay
for. This was one of those times. At first glance (18Hrs travelling, 6AM
arrival, swollen feet... so a pretty
blurry glance) the place looked half decent.
SOLD! A wee nap later, it looked
a bit different... Well, a bit like hell really. The walls didn’t connect to the ceiling,
interior or exterior, there was a faint highway of ants marching through our
bathroom, the shared bathroom was beside our room (walls here also didn’t reach
the ceiling), tacky posters were covering gaping holes in our tacky wallpaper,
our sheets looked ancient, & there was a faint smell death. But other than that, it was decent.
It was time
to move on. Vang Vieng was next on our
list. Just 3 years ago, I had visited
the town with Spills & Janer, two of my Besties. We had rented, for $1 each, a bamboo hut down
by the river with its own balcony & private bath. Every night, we’d sit watching the sun sink
behind the mountains, glass of red in hand.
The main attraction in town is the river running through. Bamboo bars have been set up along the banks
& for a few dollars tourists are driven a few km out of town with inner-tubes
as their means to get home.
Vang Vieng
has changed. It’s still a bit of the
same thing, but just far bigger, pricier & touristy. The bus station had moved to a spot just far
enough out of town that a 10,000KIP tuk-tuk is necessary to get to the town’s
centre. Its 2 small dusty roads have
morphed into paved drags lined with vendors & shoppes selling the exact
same things the next are. Instead of the
chilled out hippies dragging their feet through town, it’s filled with loud
mouthed kids who think their same-old jokes are just “hil-air!” I was a bit sad that I couldn’t re-live the
days down by the river with Ben. Ah
well, everything good must come to an end.
But she still had a few years left in ‘er.
Tanwen,
Dave, Ben & I fixed ourselves up with rooms overlooking the creek flowing
around the small island & the mountains for the back drop, still not bad
for $7. We joined in with the crowd
& were up early (ish) to beat the rush down the river. I must admit, it was a blast. We intended on making the 3 hour trip getting
off at our hostel & save on the tuk-tuk back before dark. But the rope swings, slides, & speakers bouncing
with music enticed us. It was bringing
back little memories of the Sheep River, home (minus the bars, rope swings,
& loud music... The Fun Police would never allow it).
The river trip
had us on a high & afterwards decided to hit up Party Island with all the
youngsters, because we’re hip & with it!
An hour later...
Next day was
shamefully spent vegging out in front of Friends & Family Guy from the many
restaurants offering the laid back scene.
I know, I know, how lame. I will
say, however, that we limited ourselves to 2 hours of T.V. time.
With the
intent of getting myself one of those beach bodies, I’ve attempted to cut out
the white devil... bread. You may think
this is easy, especially in an Asian country full of rice. Well you’re dead wrong! Not sure if you realize, I didn’t, that the
French have left an unmistakable mark on Laos... Baguettes & croissants! I cannot resist these lovely things. And so, I’ve given up on giving up bread.
Vientiane
arrival... Marching our sorry butts to
the fourth floor, our bags dropped, then our jaws. Our $10/ night guest room was a glorified
prison cell. Of all the places, Ben
& I have wound up in yet another dive.
I cried a little inside, I really did.
After a quick chat to Tanwen & Dave about their cheaper, cleaner
place, we put on our “we’re really sorry” faces & explained to the ‘Three
Seasons’ reception that “it turns out our brother had already booked us into
another hotel” and that “we’re so sorry & feel just terrible”. Grandma Mary, I’m sorry, but if you saw this
place, you’d understand that this little white lie was a must.
Vientiane
was visually a cool city, European & Asian cultures mixed beautifully in
architecture & food. Our main
objective was to sort out our Thai visas as we plan to stay for longer than the
automatic 15 day over-land visas provided when we are there in January. These were also a breeze. A few snapshots at the local portrait studio,
short hand paperwork, & next day pick up, free of charge. Again, we arrived on a Friday, but this time
did not have a “5-minute” option, so had to lay low for the weekend. There is not much to do, but we found a few
cheap day trips. First was a stop off at
the local Museum. It’s an old run down,
off-white Government building hidden behind unkempt bushes; Easy to miss. For a dollar, you can walk yourself through
the fan cooled building to read up on Laos’s history. It covers most things from Dinosaur findings,
the French rule, & the ‘Secret War’.
Time well spent.
Doing things
on your own is usually cheap, which was the case with our trip to Buddha
Park. A few blocks to the local bus
station, shake off the tuk-tuk drivers, hop on the over-crowded mini-bus, &
trust that the driver will let you know when to get off, if it’s not
obvious. Ben was excited for the
park. He has been collecting images for
his upcoming bamboo tattoo in Thailand.
The park is filled with Hindu & Buddhist statues, each with their
unique features but similar symbols of enlightenment & sin. Adding to the whole visual experience were
bright coloured monks strolling about, disappearing behind this god, & reappearing
from behind that god. The park is highly
recommended.
One thing we
didn’t end up seeing, was the Vertical Airstrip. Laos was given millions of dollars to add an
airstrip to the capital city. Instead,
they erected a gorgeous building.
Again, everything
good must come to an end... And this was the same for our new foursome. They think they’ve ridded themselves of us,
but we have plans! See you guys,
hopefully sooner rather than later!
I had always
wanted to see the Plain of Jars. Not
many people know of the jars, so we were hoping not too many people would be
there to see them. Another foreigner was
waiting around early morning for the bus to Phonsavan. Naturally, we locked eyes & took comfort
in our common worry of the unknown.
It’s always nice to pool resources.
Instantly we got along with Swiss Sonya.
Kindly she exchanged her seat allowing Ben & I to sit together. We rolled into town, well, not quite. The station is again located a few km outside
the town centre, requiring additional transport for a small fee. Unusually, we all decided on a guesthouse
rather quickly & found our way to Kong Keo.
With not much sleep, we decided to push forward, get some breakfast down,
& bike to the phenomenon. According
to maps, site 1 seemed possible with our mode of transport. It was straight forward, but the 12KM uphill
ride was not the 3KM flat road we were expecting. The small children waving from their roadside
villages made the trip fun.
The Jars are
a wonder. Hundreds of large pots
believed to be crafted from stone, mud, & animal hide, scatter the
hillside. Small red & white plaques
line the pathways through the site indicating which areas have been cleared of
UXO (Unexploded Ordinates). Every so
often, a huge hole is blown out of the earth from a bomb dropped during the
‘Secret War’. The jars are said to have
been constructed for a number of reasons, each very different from one
another. Some locals believe they are
urns for the dead, while others think they were simply used to store food or
whiskey. Who knows, but they are a site
to see.
With time
left in the day, we stopped in at MAG to view a film on the affects of the
‘Secret War’. For those of you who do not
know, Laos is THE most bombed country in the world. More explosives were dropped on this small
country between 1964 and 1973 than Japan & Germany during WWII, combined. The United States air bombed Laos because
Vietnam was supplying their army via the Ho Chi Minh Trail (running along the
border), secondly they were trying to halt the Communist movement in Laos (the
rebels were not affected by the bombs), & lastly, once the VN war ended,
rather than spend the money to safely land & disarm a loaded aircraft, the
pilots were ordered to drop them over Laos.
Over 500 million bombing missions were carried out, totalling over 200
million tonnes dropped on the country, 2 tonnes per person, $2M USD per day. The most unfortunate part is that even after the
war was uncovered & stopped, thousands of Laos are still dying each
year. Why? 30% of the bombs dropped did not
detonate. They are scattered throughout
rice fields, under schools, behind homes.
It is inevitable that the villagers will come in deadly contact with one
while clearing their fields. Children
are amoung the highest casualties. They
see a little yellow ball (Cluster Bombs), or something that resembles the fruit
their parents pick, & they pay the ultimate price when they pick it up, kick
starting the internal fuse, sending shrapnel through every part of the
body. New development is rare because of
what might be uncovered. MAG has trained
locals as bomb specialists. They spend
countless hours with steady hands & light movements to safely remove these
threats. Ben & I highly recommend
visiting their website to learn a more about Laos’ past & how organizations
like MAG are helping bring the country back to its feet.
MAG.ORG.UK
