Lazy Beach Days

Travelling in SE Asia had so far been a thoroughly enjoyable and truly rewarding experience. I had immersed myself in the cultures, eaten…interesting…local cuisine, and made friends from around the world. What this trip had not provided so far, however, was much downtime. While most of my trips took me to interesting regions and beautiful parts of the world, many (most) these places were also filled with suffering and such a significant disparity between our lives as Americans (or any 1^st world country residents) and those of these countries that it was hard to divorce myself from the depressed feelings they inspired. No matter how beautiful, it was hard to forget that the people around me were often living on less than $1 per day and didn’t even have access to clean water or housing. And, on the whole, I think that this is absolutely necessary if you are going to travel in SE Asia. Part of truly travelling is experiencing how the locals live for yourself and immersing yourself in that lifestyle (to a certain degree – I never gave up my fondness and preference for Western toilets).

But after almost 3 whole months living in that manner, I came to the point where I just needed a break and I said to myself: I wish I could just take a day off at the beach. Well, for our second full day in Phuket, Zenia and I did just that – we took a day off at the beach. As per our usual method of travelling, Zenia and I spent the first day of our trip sightseeing and exploring our location (sure, we did it quite leisurely by boat and even had our kayaks paddled by someone else, thus completely negating any physical activity on our parts, but it counts). On this second day, however, we decided that we needed to take a day off and simply relax, enjoy our time in this island paradise. After all, how could you visit the islands of Thailand without spending a day lounging on warm, white sand beaches and swimming in the beautiful blue-green sea? Inconceivable!

We arose early once again and headed to the docks for our second day out on the water. The day was once again cloudy and gray, although the rain had stopped before we arrived at the boat, allowing us a dry start to our day (relatively – this is SE Asia after all, a place that defines “sultry”). We headed out on the open water in a speed boat, flying across the sea at a breakneck pace. I suspect our driver was racing the other speed boats headed out at the same time and based on the rapid pace our boat adopted, we won. Soon, however, we broke away from the pack and our boat was racing around the myriad islands rising out of the water. Zenia and I rode in the bow of the boat, the best place to sit when in a speed boat, and thoroughly enjoyed the wind whipping through our hair as we anticipated our day of swimming and beach lazing.

Our first stop of the morning was at a white sandy beach. The beach was located on a large island boasting three jutting hills covered in trees and shrubs, all cradling a beautiful beach. The beach was clearly a place to relax and swim and was already covered in speed boats and people enjoying the water. Our boat slowly pulled up to shore and we all clambered off and into the water. The water was once again a glorious blue-green color, softened by the white sand of the beach and ocean floor. The beach was inlaid enough into the island to create a small bay with a gently sloping ocean floor, providing a wonderfully shallow area to swim. Zenia and I wasted no time finding a place on the beach for our towels and clothes and then hopped into the crystal clear water. The temperature was amazing, everything you imagine a tropical beach to be. Sliding into the water felt like sliding into a gently warmed bath and immediately all our cares and troubles slid out of our minds. For the first time, we were able to relax.

All too soon we were called away from this idyllic spot by our captain and we returned to the boat for more adventures – a tour of some nearby islands. One island in particular was pointed out to us as a location that had appeared in several films, although the only film I can remember it being in at present is “The Beach,” which I’ve never seen myself. The islands were beautiful, however, regardless of the supposed fame added by their cinematic history and the smaller size of our boat today allowed us to get a closer look at some of the soaring and sheer cliffs that predominate these islands.

We stopped at the base of one such cliff and were provided slices of stale bread. We were then told to lean over the side and throw pieces of the bread in the water to see the pretty fish. Well, as some of you may know, I have an irrational fear of little fish (I always feel as if they are going to bite off my toes, but for some reason I only fear little fish, those that could not possibly accomplish this feat – weird). I’m really not sure where this phobia came from, but it certainly seems to be here to stay and the experience of feeding these fish definitely did not help. As we all dropped small chunks of bread in the water, dozens, nay, hundreds of small fish appeared and ripped them apart. Small yellow and black striped fish (think clown fish, but with neon yellow and black/brown stripes) attacked the bread and decimated it in seconds. As soon as one piece of bread was gone, the group would disperse from the tangled ball they had become and would await the next offer of food. We stayed until all the bread was gone and all I could think about during this display was how easily fish could take over the world (or at least the ocean) if they all simply made a concentrated effort to work together and attacked boats. (Think about it.)

After fattening up those small fishes, our boat moved on to another rapacious and dangerous wild animal to feed (why, oh why were these people obsessed with feeding wild animals that shouldn’t be fed by humans??) – monkeys. After arduous research (typing the words Thailand and monkey into a google search), I have discovered that these monkeys were long-tailed macaques. While it might not seem so bad to feed a wild monkey, it is not really a smart move as these are wild animals that could easily spread diseases and so should not become too comfortable with human interaction. Nevertheless, our boat stopped along a cliff face on an island where ropes had been hung and where the monkeys knew to congregate in order to get free treats from tourists. We were each given a bag of food and encouraged to let the monkeys eat out of our hands. Being of a more practical nature and fearing a “Planet of the Apes” scenario, I relinquished my bag of food to others and stayed away from the scavenging beasts (killers). And after five to ten minutes, I was more than happy to move on.

Our boat took us a little ways out to sea and passed out goggles and snorkels to all passengers who wanted an up close and personal look at the ocean floor and inhabitants. I wasted no time grabbing my equipment and jumped into the water, eager to swim and enjoy ocean life. The water felt incredible – so warm it was almost hard to believe I was in the ocean. I have visited some other warm watered areas, namely Hawaii, but I’ve found that even in those places the water is always a bit brisk and never the temperature we imagine of exotic locales. Well, Thailand more than lived up to my expectations. I’ve never felt such a wonderful sea and I spent as much time as possible in the water before the boat moved on. Underwater I saw quite a few species of fish and was entranced by the sight. Unfortunately, however, it is hard to escape the obvious deleterious effect humans have had on this ocean environment. Perhaps at one time the ocean floors of Thailand were covered in beautiful sea life, but the burgeoning tourist trade (of which I was now a part) has taken its toll and beyond a few craggy rocks underwater and some beautifully colored fish, there is no life to speak of at a depth for the average snorkeler. While I enjoyed what I saw and the warmth of the water I swam in, I couldn’t help but miss the reefs I had seen in Hawaii that were covered in myriad plant and animal life, protected by the government from additional harm by visitors. Not so in Thailand, where no restrictions had ever been placed on tourists. Still, the experience was amazing and I loved the opportunity to see Thailand ocean life.

We docked for lunch at a large island where a small community existed along another gorgeous white sand beach. After quickly eating a rather forgettable meal (provided by the tour), Zenia and I began exploring the island shops before heading back to the beach and the boat for the final leg of our day. Our final stop was on the furthest island out on our trip. This island was a small speck of land, but unique amongst the many thousands of islands in that it boasted a large mountainous region occupying one half of the island, but pure white sands along the other half. The island’s entire purpose was for relaxing and enjoying the sun and water. The white sand was covered in low seated beach chairs and umbrellas and offered a full service bar along the base of the mountains. Of course, the chairs were to be rented and the drinks were ridiculously expensive (keep in mind, ridiculously expensive in SE Asia is about $3 per drink), but as this was our final adventure, Zenia and splurged. We rented two covered chairs and ordered a pina colada in a coconut for Zenia and a pineapple drink in a pineapple for me, complete with little flowers and fruit. The afternoon was amazing. The sky cleared just as we arrived on the island and set up our camp and as the temperature rose, Zenia and I would alternate between sitting on our chairs, listening to music, and relaxing in the sun and shade and taking dips in the beautiful ocean. We spent about two hours just sitting and enjoying the beach. It was blissful after three months of constant travel and activity.

It seemed like no time at all before our captain called our group back to the boat and we returned to Phuket. Not wanting to give up our day quite yet, Zenia and I hopped into our guesthouse’s pool upon our return, continuing our lazy day until the sun went down and it was time to shower and get ready for our evening. I wish I could now regale you with tales of a fabulous evening out, but in reality, Zenia and I put on some more dresses we bought in Cambodia, took a red truck downtown, and merely spent the evening walking around and enjoying the sights. We returned to our guesthouse somewhat early, exhausted from our lazy day, yet completely satisfied with our time in Phuket. 

The Sight to See? Bond, James Bond.

One of the most dangerous aspects of travelling, particularly of travelling to a 3^rd world country, is the food. I don’t mean that the food will be bad or that you won’t find things to eat – if you keep an open mind and open stomach then you are sure to find things you enjoy. Rather, I mean that you must beware that most dangerous malady that befalls every traveler at least once – food poisoning. It’s never an enjoyable experience, but it’s somehow infinitely worse when you’re stranded thousands of miles from home and Western plumbing on a separate continent. So far in my trip I had managed to forego this unpleasant upset, mainly by using common sense and taking reasonable care when buying and eating food. Here are some good tips to follow when travelling to aid in avoiding the more suspect food options:

1. Don’t Go Cheap – cheap food is the enemy when you’re travelling. It is very easy to get through a day in SE Asia spending only about $2 on your food, but this will invariably lead to some quality time spent with your commode. If you’re dining out, be smart and spend a little more –the extra money is ensuring that your food is cooked immediately and only fresh ingredients (that have been properly refrigerated) are used.

2. Watch Them Cook Your Food – if you are eating at any establishment other than a sit down restaurant, watch them cook your food. You will be crowned “King of the Can” later if you don’t. If you’re buying food from a small hole-in-the-wall establishment and your food just magically appears from a back room, it is probably suspect and you should move on. More than likely, the meat is quite old and has never seen even the most rudimentary cold storage system. Watching the cook prepare your exact food ensures that you know what is going into it, you know it was cooked immediately, and you know if anything looks a little off.

3. Avoid Too Many Uncooked Vegetables – this advice might seem contrary to popular opinion, after all, the freshest food and thus most trustworthy food are fresh veggies, but when you’re in a foreign land where you can’t drink the water and even brushing your teeth with the tap water can lead to intestinal issues, it’s not a good idea to eat raw, uncooked vegetables that have been rinsed in said water. Cooking kills the bacteria the water has transferred to your veggies. One of the worst things you can do in SE Asia is order a salad.

4. Follow the Crowd – it’s always a good idea to eat where others are eating. If a restaurant has a large crowd, particularly a large crowd of locals, there are good odds the food is tasty and it won’t give you problems later. So don’t be afraid to wait a few minutes to get your order in if there is a crowd – that is a good sign. An empty restaurant is a recipe for disaster.

5. Reconsider the Beef – actually, reconsider almost all meats. I know I’ve already warned you of vegetables, but now it’s time to consider meat the enemy too. Meat has the unfortunate tendency to spoil easily without refrigeration and in countries where electrical power either doesn’t exist or has the tendency to be unavailable for long stretches of time, this presents problems when you are talking about meat storage. Eating meat in a large city is probably safer than a small city or town, but caution is always advisable. Also, NEVER eat seafood in a landlocked country – that’s just asking for trouble.

These are just some of the basic tips I followed while traversing my way through SE Asia and although I fared fairly well, there were still some minor issues that it would be unseemly to go into too much detail over. Leave it to say that I managed until that first day in Phuket. Upon our arrival the night before in Phuket, Zenia and I ate pad see ew at a boardwalk restaurant in downtown Patong Bay where we were staying. Well, the next morning, Zenia and I awoke long before we needed to for sightseeing trip via boat around the islands surrounding Phuket and began the dance of travelling roommates – swapping places in the bathroom every few minutes as our pad see ew caused some unfortunate consequences. Luckily, I had followed Rule #5 and avoided most of the meat in my pad see ew, which I am absolutely certain caused our unfortunate discomfort so I did not suffer too badly, but Zenia was not so lucky. Before our Phuket trip had even really begun it was off to a bad start. We had our tickets and were ready to go enjoy the islands, but it was going to be problematic trying to get more than 20 feet from our bathroom. Thank goodness I had gotten some medication for just this situation before leaving the U.S. Zenia and I each popped a couple of pills and within no time were feeling well enough to get to the docks for our day of adventure. It just goes to show that when travelling, nothing can replace good common sense and a well stocked emergency kit.

We took a red truck (yes, the time of the tuk tuk was over and red trucks were back) to the docks where we were scheduled to meet our tour boat. The inauspicious trend of the morning continued as it was raining quite heavily when we arrived for our boat tour, but as that was the norm and something we had grown quite accustomed to in Laos, we remained relatively unphased and were excited to have made it even this far (it’s amazing how stomach problems can put everything in perspective). Our boat was a double-decker pink and green monstrosity that could easily fit around 50 people if you didn’t mind sitting quite close together and soon we were all jammed in like sardines and ready to set sail.

Our tour began as we pulled out of Patong Bay and our boat guide gave us some basic information concerning Phuket and the islands we were to see throughout the day. The sky was a steely gray color, filled with dark clouds, allowing no sunshine to poke through. However, the air was steamy and warm and the water was incredible. A beautiful blue-green color, it looked warm and inviting, just waiting for us to stop for a swim. But today, we were travelling around the islands.

We sped around the islands for some time in the morning. There are thousands of islands off the southern coast of Thailand, some large enough to support communities and towns and some only 15-20 feet across. The most amazing feature of these tiny specks of land was their shape. Each small island rose high out of the sea, often taller than they were wide. Water had slowly eaten away at the base of these islands so that they somewhat resembled mushrooms – the islands arose out of the sea, then flared outward in a rocky, craggy mass, until reaching a large horizontal shelf (the cap of the mushroom) that sometimes extended 20-30 feet out over the water, and then rose high into the air in a dome. The dome of the islands were covered with vegetation, large shrubs and trees, so thick it was clear no one had been on these islands for years, if ever, and it was doubtful they could be scaled in any case – likely anyone trying would be swallowed whole by the plants and would never be seen again.

The larger islands were dominated by trees and forests as well and sported craggy faces and sheer cliffs. Our boat slowed at one such island and our guide pointed out a small, horizontal opening at sea level at the base of a cliff. We were told that we would stop here and would enter inflatable kayaks – two per kayak plus a guide to paddle – and would go into the caves below the island. Some caves were big enough for larger boats, but many could only be accessed at mid to low tide on a smaller craft and still required quite a bit of head bending and care.  Zenia and I quickly claimed a kayak as our own and we were off to explore the dark underworld of the caves of Thailand.

The caves were amazing to see. Although not filled with some of the geological wonders of the caverns in California (my bias showing, perhaps), these were beautiful in their own right. It was easy to see the high water mark inside the caves, often near the ceiling, as a white line delineated on the rocks. Huge boulders hung from the ceiling, forcing us to duck this way and that in efforts to avoid them. Enormous rooms could be found further into the caves, filled along the roofline with bats. Toward the ends of the caves, the rooms were so small we were forced to lie flat in the bottoms of our kayaks to avoid the low hanging ceilings. It felt incredible to be exploring these caves, but also a trifle intimidating. It was impossible to forget that you were floating beneath an entire island and it was all too easy to imagine the island crashing down on your head as it finally gave in and fell into the sea. This in no way dimmed the beauty of the sights, but it did add a sense of danger and urgency to our trip. All too soon we headed back outside. The mouth of the caves began as a mere pinprick of light that quickly grew larger as we approached and after so much time in the dark (but probably only 15 minutes actually), the light seemed incredibly bright, even on such a cloudy day.

We remained in the kayaks and began to paddle around the island, into a beautiful grove of trees, lush vegetation, and vines that nearly met the water – clearly this island had not eroded quite so much at the base. After some time looking around at the beauty of the island, we returned to the boat for our next adventure.

We stopped at another island for more kayaking fun. This new island was broken into pieces, allowing the kayaks to travel under huge craggy stone archways and into the heart of the island. Trees seemed to grow out of the stone itself, needing no soil to prosper here. The islands were beautiful and we all spent some time just enjoying the day and being out on the water. At this point it became clear that the persistent cloud cover was a blessing. The day was managing to stay reasonably comfortable, never unbearably hot as it might have been in full sunlight. After we finished with that island, we were off to the main event of the day – James Bond Island.

James Bond movies are, of course, classics, but it would perhaps take a real connoisseur of the films to recognize the James Bond Island without someone telling them of its history. Luckily, I just happen to be a connoisseur of all things James Bond and even without the guide’s information was able to pinpoint the exact island where the final showdown of Roger Moore’s “The Man with the Golden Gun” was filmed. I’m not sure if there is anything particularly special or remarkable about this particular island other than its now famous pedigree thanks to that superspy, but it is now a destination location for tourists in Phuket. The island from which you view the tall, yet thin rock rising out of the sea is fairly inhospitable beyond the beach immediately facing James Bond Island. The beach also boasts a crack in the rock face along one side, which is absolutely sheer and nearly smooth as if someone had taken a knife and cut into the rock, slicing a chunk out of the rock face.

After taking dozens of pictures in front of James Bond Island, we returned to the boat, and began our return journey to Phuket. A van took us from the docks to our hotel where Zenia and I took full advantage of the amenities (aka our bathroom) and got ready for our evening out in Phuket.

For the first time during our 3 months in SE Asia we truly felt as if we could dress up for the evening. Always in SE Asia you are aware of the overwhelming heat and humidity. There is no point in putting on makeup as it will soon melt away and wearing nice clothes is a mistake as SE Asia has a tendency to ruin anything you wear. But that night Zenia and I had something special planned and decided to go all out. We took extravagantly long showers (7 minutes each), put on our best dresses (purchased in Cambodia), cute sandals (Vietnam), and actually straightened our hair and threw on some eye shadow. It felt incredible – perhaps the closest to clean and normal I had felt in 3 months.

That night Zenia and I were going to a show called Simon Cabaret. The show was a transvestite (or lady-boy, as they are called in SE Asia) cabaret show featuring exotic costumes and popular songs. It was an absolute blast. Of course my hair began to curl and my makeup began to come off as soon as we stepped out of our air conditioned room, but it was worth it to have such fun and to feel almost normal for even a few hours. The show was hilarious and actually quite good and after we went outside and were able to meet all the stars as they stood around in costumes (sequined gowns and large head-dresses). Following the show we took a red truck downtown and walked along the beach again, but soon headed back to our guesthouse for the evening as we had another day of sightseeing planned for the next day, requiring another early start.

Returning to Thailand

At this point in our travels, Zenia and I had been on quite a few trips. We had travelled from Thailand to Laos, Pakse in southern Laos, Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng in northern Laos, all over Cambodia, and to Hanoi, Vietnam. On each occasion, my packing skills would improve and my bags would lighten. I learned how to pack and travel light, getting down to simply 7 kg (about 15 pounds) for a five day trip (and trust me, based on how I usually pack, that is incredible). Each trip to another place would see me taking less and less, lightening my load. What I didn’t count on, however, was the fact that on each trip my bag home would be just a little bit heavier and all that new weight, the result of souvenirs and other items bought, would add up when it came time to go back to Thailand and then home.

As the time to return to Thailand got closer, I began to look at the shear amount of stuff that I had accumulated over nearly three full months in SE Asia and I realized that I had a serious problem. There was absolutely no way I could pack all of it in my backpack and the purse I had brought with me. I would need more bags. In preparation for packing, Zenia and I began to pull out all of our stuff to lay out on our beds to consider packing options and the piles just kept growing and growing, soon resembling Mount Everest. Even going through my clothes and discarding those items of clothing SE Asia had clearly ruined (SE Asia eats your clothing and then spits it back up after you have been there for any length of time) didn’t reduce my belongings to the point that I could make it home without needing another bag. So, I headed down to the Talot Sao Mall in Vientiane and bought a knockoff Ralph Lauren roller bag, the size you would usually use as a carry on to help tote home all my newly acquired belongings.

By the time Zenia and I finished packing, we were going to have to carry four bags a piece. We each wore a large hiking backpack, filled to the brim and reaching over our heads, had a sling purse filled to overflowing, carried a separate smaller duffle bag by the handle and dragged a rolling bag behind. Imagine giant turtles walking upright, trying to drag a bag of deadweight behind, ready to topple over at any moment and you’ll have some idea of how we looked. To say we were an amusing sight would be a vast understatement. We must have looked absolutely ridiculous and on the morning of July 29^th, as we travelled from Laos to Thailand, that fact was driven home.

Now, the easiest way to travel from Laos to Thailand is definitely by air. It’s a simple process to travel by tuk tuk to the Vientiane airport and then fly to Phuket. But, by this time, Zenia and I were severely low on funds and traveling by air from one country to another in SE Asia is quite expensive. When planning our final adventure, Zenia and I discovered that it would be significantly cheaper to take a tuk tuk to downtown Vientiane, hop on a bus to cross the border into Thailand, and then take a red truck from the bus depot in Udon Thani, the first large city across the border into Thailand with an airport (and the city we stopped in on our original trip to Laos), to the airport and then fly to Phuket within Thailand. Travelling in this manner would save a great deal of money, but it presented certain problems in terms of logistics as Zenia and I now had a ridiculous number of bags. But, we were willing to take the chance in order to save a bit of money and so, on July 28^th we hired a tuk tuk driver to pick us up at our house in Vientiane first thing in the morning to take us to the bus station downtown.

When our tuk tuk driver showed up on July 29^th I don’t think he knew what to think of the sight of us. Two girls and eight bags – we managed to overload that tuk tuk. At first he stared in amazement at the shear amount of luggage, but in the end simply shook his head in disbelief, said something about farang (white people or Europeans, but pronounced “falang”), and loaded us into his tuk tuk to drive downtown. He drove us down to the bus station and unloaded our luggage onto a huge pile, much to the shock of all the other people waiting for buses. As Zenia left to get our tickets from the counter, I stayed with the bags on guard duty and watched as the local people stared in wonder at the shear amount of baggage we had compiled, pointing to us, chuckling, and muttering farang to one another. At first it was slightly humiliating, but after a while Zenia and I simply started laughing, enjoying our notoriety as those crazy foreigners who seemed to have bought all of SE Asia to take home. Our bus left at 10:30 am for the border, carrying more luggage for the two of us than any other passenger (and perhaps all the other passengers combined).

When travelling across the border, bus is by far the easiest method and one I highly recommend. Travelling across the river border between Laos and Thailand requires first stopping on the Laos side and exiting the country. You go through passport control and receive an exit visa from Laos, then reboard the bus, which travels across the river to the Thailand side. It is possible to walk across the bridge, which is probably about ¼ mile long, but it is much simpler to simply deboard and reboard a bus, which drives you across. When you reach the Thailand side, you go through the same process, deboarding the bus and going through passport control, this time to receive an entrance stamp and visa for Thailand and then reboarding the bus for the final journey to the bus depot at Udon Thani. At each stop you can leave your belongings on the bus, something Zenia and I were very grateful for as I’m not sure we actually could have made it through the lines with all of our bags (at the very least we would have been knocking people over right and left).

The process of travelling to Thailand was actually surprisingly easy, which perhaps should not be such a surprise as the bus companies have travelling between countries down to a fine art at this point. We arrived at the Udon Thani airport with plenty of time to spare for our 4:15 pm flight to Phuket and were able to enjoy the luxury of a Thailand airport, one with padded seats, quiet air conditioning, and a variety of food options. To say it was exciting would be a vast understatement. We had made it to Thailand, checked our bags, and were on our way to Phuket for some island adventures, our final trip in SE Asia!

Now, it would probably be helpful to say a little about Phuket. Phuket is the largest island off southern Thailand in the Andaman Sea. It is surrounded by dozens of smaller island, some simply 20 feet across, but rising much higher out of the sea and topped with trees and other plant life. Flying into Phuket is a revelation. As you get closer to the island you are greeted with beautiful, clear oceans a stunning shade of blue-green, and the dots of green islands poking out of the water everywhere. The island of Phuket is not exceptionally large from the air, but creates an exciting and entrancing sight as you come down, a beautiful island retreat.

We arrived on Phuket just at sunset and by the time we had collected our bags and arranged for a taxi to take us to our hotel on the opposite side of the island, to the main city on Phuket, it was fully dark outside. The drive from one side of the island to the other takes about an hour as the roads wind their way through mountains that run along the island from north to south. When our taxi reached Phuket, Zenia and I were quite tired from our long day of travel, but the sight of the city soon revived us. Phuket is a serious destination location for travelers from around the world and it can certainly be said that it is a city that never sleeps. The streets are lined with shops, restaurants, and clubs that stay open almost 24-hours a day, a sight we hadn’t seen for a long time. At that point, however, having been away from a noisy and bright city for a couple months, we probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep had we chosen a guest house downtown, so it was lucky for us that our guesthouse was located just on the outskirts of the downtown area and at the top of a small hill, affording us a measure of peace and quiet at the end of each day in Phuket.

Our taxi dropped us off at our guest house and we quickly checked in and were shown to our hotel room. Our room was one of the most beautiful sights I had seen in a long time. Our beds were double beds with regular pillows, sheets, and comforters (no plastic sheets beneath or odd, stiff sheets here). But the bathroom was the best part. At each place we stayed, no matter how nice, we had been forced to make do with SE Asian showers. This could consist of anything from a mere showerhead attached to the side of the bathroom wall, pointed toward the toilet and sure to spray the entire bathroom with water whenever it was turned on, to a step-in bathtub complete with shower curtain, but with a spray so weak it could barely wet your hair and produced only cold water. But in Phuket, the bathroom was a marvel – it boasted a walk in shower with glass doors and a showerhead that produced a wonderful stream of hot water. A true Western shower and never has a shower felt quite so good. Immediately upon finding such bounty in our room, Zenia and I took advantage and took long, hot showers, then changed into two of the dresses we bought in Cambodia and walked down the hill from our hotel to grab a red truck to downtown Phuket.

Upon arriving downtown, Zenia and I set out to find some dinner and stopped at a local outdoor eating area, almost like a food court, ordering a simple meal of pad see ew (my favorite Thai dish, but which turned out to be a huge mistake – more on that later). Following dinner, we strolled along the beach front, taking our shoes off to walk barefoot in the sand, and ordered some delicious crepe-like deserts from a cart bordering the beach. The air was warm and sultry, the water clear and warm as well, and we enjoyed our time just strolling along the beach, free of all cares. It was incredible and as we walked I could feel the worries draining away and I was ready to enjoy my island adventure. All too soon, however, our long day caught up with us and we headed to the main boulevard paralleling the beach to catch a red truck back to our hotel, ready to get some rest for the night and for more adventures the coming day. 

My Final Week in Laos

I have begun writing this entry and the ones that will follow in my mind a thousand times (not surprising since I finished my trip and left SE Asia over two years ago now), but something has always stopped me. Initially, I was simply too tired. Travelling away from home for three straight months can be rather draining regardless of how wonderful and exciting your trip. I had been living out of a backpack for three months, eating out for every meal, and constantly trying to adapt to new and very different cultures. I was, frankly, exhausted by the end of my trip. Additionally, returning home was more than slightly depressing. Going back to the same old routine of school – without pause from my travel – and trying to reintegrate into American culture brought on a serious case of the blues, preventing me from even considering finishing my blog for some time. Eventually, however, I realized that I needed to provide a conclusion to my trip and give my time in SE Asia its final pages. And so, here we are – the final stories of this bookworm’s adventures in SE Asia.

My last week in Laos was understandably nostalgic and more than a little sad. I had been living in this remarkable country for two full months now, had made friends in the local community, and learned the streets of Vientiane almost by heart. Zenia and I were putting the finishing touches on all our projects at work during the day and we spent each evening making the rounds of the city, saying goodbye to our favorite places and our new friends.

So Long, Noy’s Fruit Heaven

One of our first and most important goodbyes was made to our friends at Noy’s Fruit Heaven. You will all recall that Noy’s became one of our favorite spots in all of Vientiane, home to the most delicious pineapple-apple smoothies in the entire world. In fact, Zenia and I stopped there every single day after work to enjoy a fresh and refreshing drink. Over the course of our two months of daily visits we had come to know the two girls who ran the stand very well. Neither girl spoke any English and my Lao was extremely limited (basically: hello, how are you, I’m well, counting to ten, and “no egg” in that language, but that was the extent), so our friendship was built on the unique form of communication that crops up when people don’t speak the same language, but really want to communicate.

Each evening Zenia and I would ride our bikes up to the stand and begin our ritual. We would each look briefly at the stand to see which fruits were available that day and then would point to the fruit that caught our eye. Upon saying the names in English, the two girls would look at the fruit to which we were pointing and would then say the name back to us in Lao. After two months we had learned most of the names and could order our drinks in Lao, my favorite being a combo of mac-nat and mac-apun (“mac” is the word for fruit, while “nat” or “apun” describes the type of fruit), or pineapple and apple. Zenia and I would then sit at one of the tables outside and wait for our drinks. Once the girls finished, they would bring over the smoothies and sit at the table next to us and our conversation for the evening would begin. First, the girls would say something in Lao, pointing emphatically to us, our bikes, or random objects and making hand gestures in order to explain their comments or questions. Next, Zenia and I would attempt to discern what they were talking about and would respond in English, using similar gestures and pointing motions. This would continue until it became clear that we were talking about the same thing or not, usually with a 50/50 rate of correct guessing. After our conversation was concluded, Zenia and I would take our leave with much smiling and waving on all sides and assurances, in both languages, that we would return the next day.

And so, over time, we developed a friendship with these two young girls. (Names were never successfully exchanged as Lauren was too hard for most Lao people to say – the l’s and the r’s were problematic, so problematic in fact that one man I worked with at VFI called me Flower – and Zenia was equally confusing. Thus, as we couldn’t really understand what their names were either, Zenia and I referred to them as “the Noy’s girls” and I assume we were “the bike girls”.)  Zenia and I managed to explain that we were visiting from America and Canada for the summer and working in the city and they managed to tell us that they were from southern Laos, but had moved to Vientiane and were now working and living in the city. We all looked forward to our visits each evening and it was with heavy hearts that Zenia and I contemplated saying goodbye. We both realized that something more was needed than our customary communication process to properly say goodbye to these girls and so we wrote out a note in English saying how much we appreciated their friendship, how we were returning home in just one week, and how much we would miss them both. I then asked Chinda to translate the note into Lao for me and that evening we took it to our favorite place in all of Laos.

We arrived at the stand at our customary time, but were surprised to see only one of our friends there. We produced the note, however, to the one remaining and, with the help of some Lao men sitting at one of the tables, the note was read aloud and we finally held a more usual conversation with our Noy’s friend. One of the Lao men spoke some English and was able to translate. It turns out the other girl was called away home to southern Laos, but we were assured she would be read our note as well. We all exchanged hugs, well wishes for the future, and assured each other we would always remember our time and friendship. And thus, we said goodbye to our friends at Noy’s Fruit Heaven.

Farwell, VFI.

Our last week in Laos was also our last week at VFI. Naturally we had become good friends with all of the people there, making friends with nearly all of the staff and the locals who came by each day for English lessons in the afternoon. In the middle of our last week at VFI we were told that the we would be ending early on Wednesday for a lunch and party in the seating  and coffee area in front of the VFI office. Mid-morning a group of the women of the office and I went out to buy some traditional Laos food for our party. We went to some local stands just a few blocks away from the office and bought bags and bags of various meats, laap, kebabs, chicken-foot soup (ew!), and sticky rice. We set up a buffet table of food, the men brought out two cases of Singha Thai beer and everyone was invited outside to enjoy the festivities.

Before we began gorging ourselves on the bounty of Laos food spread before us, my supervisor, Na, gave a brief speech about the important work we had all accomplished at VFI during our summer and what it meant to them all to have us there. It was extremely touching to hear her speak about us in such glowing terms and how much they enjoyed our time at VFI. However, upon her conclusion, she clearly expected one of our group to give a similar speech about our feelings on our time in Laos and at VFI. The six of us looked at each other and waited for someone to step up to the plate and give a speech that we clearly had not prepared for. As I looked around, I could see the hesitancy on each face and as I had become the closest with our Lao friends of the entire group, I took it upon myself to say a few words. My speech went a little something like this:

Thank you all for this wonderful party. I have had the best time of my life here in Laos. Thank you for welcoming us all to VFI, into your country and into your lives. We have all made friendships here that will last us our lifetime and we will never forget you or the time we have spent in Laos. We have learned so much from all of you and you have made our lives better by being in them. I can’t speak for everyone, but I know I speak for both Zenia and myself when I say that we wouldn’t have wanted to be placed anywhere but Laos. Zenia and I have been doing a lot of travelling around SE Asia in the past three months and have visited Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam and I can tell you that Laos is by far our favorite. Not only in terms of food and sights to see, but also in terms of people. The Laos people are the friendliest and nicest people in all of SE Asia and it has been a privilege getting to know you all and becoming friends with you all. So thank you. We will miss you all terribly.

It was a speech given from the heart and I meant every word. I was hugged by all my new friends and then we began feasting and it was clear how well my new Laos friends had gotten to know me as they each drank Singha Thai beer, but gave me my very own large bottle of Orange Mirinda (orange soda) to drink instead. (Of course, they were all laughing at my distaste for alcoholic beverages during that time, but I chose to take that as a little friendly ribbing.)

Alveterzane, Vientiane.

Each evening of our last week in Vientiane was spent riding our bikes around the city and eating at our favorite restaurants. We also made time to visit some of the sites we had yet to see, stopping at a local temple and receiving a fortune (I still have it, but have no idea what it says), and simply riding around streets we had yet to see.

On one of these outings Zenia and I came across a strange rock creation we had never seen before. A simple spire built from old stone, it stood in the center of the street and had been simply built around, creating a roundabout on the road. Grass was growing up the sides and when we consulted our maps of Vientiane, we realized it was not even labeled. The structure seemed noteworthy, however, and as we found it terribly amusing that we had managed to miss this fairly massive structure during our two months of living in and riding around the city, we stopped our bikes to take some pictures. We were standing a good deal away from the structure and alternating poses in front of it when a man with a very large rifle came out of an entryway to our house and began to yell at us in Lao and motion us to leave with his gun. Zenia and I froze on the spot, unsure what we had done wrong, but as he continued toward us with the very daunting weapon, we decided that retreating was our best option. We put our cameras away, got on our bikes, and continued toward the structure and away from the guard. As we rode past the man, we saw a sign on the wall surrounding the house in front of which the guard was standing and realized it was an ambassador’s residence. Evidently, two foreigners taking photos in front of an ambassador’s home was a little suspicious and the guard had simply been ensuring we were not taking photos of the house, but it was a fairly terrifying event nonetheless.

The rest of our goodbye to Vientiane and Laos was less eventful. Our time in Laos was wonderful, but after returning our bikes and saying our final goodbyes, we were ready to leave for the last leg of our SE Asia journey, a quick trip to Phuket, an island in southern Thailand, and then a final week of de-orientation in Thailand with BABSEA.

Goodbye, Laos.

Having said goodbye to all of our new friends and favorite haunts in Vientiane, we were ready to actually take our leave. But that is the beginning of our Phuket story…

Vang Vieng Part 2 – Caving & Tubing

Our second cave of the day was called Cave Hoi and was quite different from our first cave explorations. This cave was formed by water running through the mountain, from the very pinnacle to the base. The water formed a huge tunnel through the base of mountain where 50 years ago (before deforestation in the region changed the water route) water flowed in a river. Now the cave system is almost completely without water except where it is bisected by a small stream running almost perpendicular to the old river path. We were unable to explore the entire thing as it is 2 km long, but what we did see was amazing. This cave is another limestone feature, but in this case, the river that used to run through it left something behind. Embedded within the limestone, projecting out into the main portion of the cave are huge clumps of small pebbles lodged within hardened earth and rock, reminiscent of a dried riverbed. In addition, the ceiling of the cave is composed of similar material, but with larger rounded river stones. We meandered our way through the cave, slogging through the crisscrossing stream at one point until we came to a bend in the cave where the stone floor changed to a stone strewn mess that we had no desire to navigate.

It was around noon when we emerged from this cave, so our guide led us about 1 km back down the path we had already trekked until we reached a small river where a bamboo structure was built extending over the rushing water. Lunch was provided with our tour, fried rice, kebabs, baguette, and fresh pineapple. We tried to take our time eating, but were actually famished from our trekking and caving adventures and fell on our lunch like ravenous wolves. As soon as we were done eating our guide came over and informed us that it was time to “swim to the water cave.” My eyes darted to the river that was rushing by at a very fast pace. I was sure I had misheard him. We looked at our guide again and asked, “Uh, swim to the cave? Not tube to the cave?” “No. Swim.” Okay…That seemed a bit extreme, so I was sure it was simply a language problem. Soon, however, he returned with a headlamp attached to a large battery that is worn around the neck, which he informed us was waterproof. It became obvious. We were going to swim through the river to the cave, which would be filled with water. Talk about an adventure!

Zenia decided swimming through a cave was just too much, so she stayed behind on dry land, while Kevin and I got loaded up with headlamps and proceeded to enter the rampaging river. To assist with our battle against the river currents we had a rope that we used to pull ourselves across the worst portion of the river. Our guide was quite emphatic about holding onto the rope with two hands or death would surely follow as we were swept downstream. He constantly shouted, “Two hands! Safety first!” As we moved away from the shore into the cold water I understood his instructions and grabbed onto the rope with no thoughts of letting go even if aliens came down in a spaceship over my head. My feet were immediately swept behind my body so that I lay horizontally along the top of the water, dragging myself sideways to the opposite side. The force of the water was incredible. It felt as if a thousand hands were dragging against every inch of my skin and clothing, trying to pull me away from the relative safety of the rope. We expected to reach the other side, but the rope did not reach the other shore, instead coming to an end about 10 feet away where it ducked into a crevice in the rock, leading to the interior of the cave.

The cave itself was filled with water (indeed, it’s called the Water Cave) and due to the high water level, which pushed us up toward the narrow top, only about as wide as twice the distance of my shoulders. We swam sideways through the cave, carefully holding on to the rock walls with one hand, while looking out for spiders and other creatures with our eyes in the handholds. The cave was very similar to the others we had seen, but made more interesting, perhaps, by the fact that we were swimming to see it. We only swam inside for about 5 minutes until we were forced to turn around and return to shore due to an increase in currents in the cave, which made swimming inside too treacherous for my state of mind. It was a difficult process as the cave was so narrow and you could only kick your feet in a small area directly under your body or else you would be kicking the rock walls. Standing back on the shore felt exhilarating, as if we had truly conquered something by swimming in that cave and it only occurred to me at that moment how truly stupid it was to swim into a flooded cave. Now that I look back on the experience I’m glad I did it, but probably won’t be doing it again for fear of death. :)

After we all emerged unscathed from river, we set off on a return journey to the Nam Song River where we would begin our tubing. As we walked down the path Zenia and I took stock of our appearance and were amazed to see that even though I had just been thoroughly drenched in the river I was still just as muddy and Zenia was only slightly more so. Evidently the water here is less powerful than the mud. We walked through muddy fields until we reached the river where we viewed one more cave (more of a cavernous room cut out of the side of the mountain) and then loaded into a wooden boat for a quick trip across the river. The river was so powerful at this point that the only way to get a boat across was to aim it upstream, run the motor as hard as possible, and drift to the other bank where you will arrive in a relatively straight line across the river from where you started. It’s quite an amazing current and a bit disconcerting when we considered the fact that we were expected to sit on a small tube and float downstream for 4 km or so.

We managed to make it safely to the opposite side, however, and got a tuk-tuk ride downstream to the area where the tubing starts. We were outfitted with lifejackets, handed a tube, and told to get moving. The process of entering your tube on the water is an interesting one and worth noting. It’s a very awkward process getting into an inner tube at first. You must start by finding a fairly calm area of the river where you tube will not be pulled away by the current immediately. Then, you drop the tube into the water, turn around so your back faces it, and allow yourself to fall backwards, hopefully aiming with enough precision that your butt falls into the center, legs across the edge of the tube and back propped against the other side. While this does not sound like a difficult process, it can be quite tricky and I can now attest from personal experience that there is simply no graceful way to do it. Once you are in the tube, your next job is to get yourself out into the current so you can begin your trip downstream. This involves paddling yourself backwards, arms restrained to a large extent by your lifejacket and the edges of the tube so that you look like a beached whale. As soon as the river catches your tube it is simply a matter of not running into the shore and enjoying the scenery. Luckily our guide was in a kayak with us and able to take care of the first requirement, which meant that we were free to enjoy our surroundings, which were incredible – mountains rising on either side of the river to soar majestically overhead.

We stopped at one bar along the side of the river, a process that involved catching a rope thrown out to us from the shoreline by locals and then waiting to be hauled in against the current. Zenia and I enjoyed our time relaxing and people watching before we set out on the river once again, this time finishing our trip down the river at Vang Vieng where we returned our tubes, said goodbye to our guide, and set off for our hotel for a much needed shower. At this point I had accumulated enough mud to appear the color of milk chocolate and was in desperate need of shower. Nothing has ever felt quite as good as that shower after our long day as rivers of mud washed off my skin and clothing. We spent the remainder of the evening exploring the town of Vang Vieng more and watching Friends while eating dinner with our reunited party (Vanessa, Ellie, Chris, and Lorena). It was an early night that evening as we were all quite tired from our long days.

This final trip was undoubtedly a success and I believe it was the best way to spend our final weekend in Laos.

Vang Vieng Part 1 – Trekking & Caving

Zenia and I awoke early, excited for our big day in Vang Vieng. We ate breakfast at a small café near our guesthouse and then set off to the travel agency (a 1 minute walk around the block) to await our ride. One of the brilliant things about using a tour is that all the little details are taken care of for you, such as arranging transportation. After planning so many vacations and trips over the past few months, we were very happy to allow someone else take care of all the details for us. So we waited at the travel agency for our tour to begin at 9:30 am, excited at the prospect of having no worries for an entire day.

Our tuk tuk arrived loaded down with kayaks strapped to the roof and a large group of people in the back. We joined the mob in the back of the tuk-tuk and set off on a road leading us about 15 km upriver. One of the options for these tours is kayaking on the Nam Song River, but Zenia and I had opted not to kayak as I have never done it before and it seemed like a pretty bad idea to learn on a rampaging river during monsoon season in SE Asia. Instead, we opted for a slightly easier tour package that included trekking, caving, and tubing. We arrived at the riverside in a small village (where the inhabitants don’t speak Lao, but a local language) and unloaded almost all the people from the back of the tuk tuk and the kayaks from the top of the vehicle. Zenia and I then loaded back into the tuk tuk and we set off again, going further upriver to another small village where we unloaded at our starting location.

It turns out our tour was much less popular than the kayaking option and in the end there were only three of us taking a tour with our guide, me, Zenia, and a man named Kevin (from England). This turned out to be one of the best things that could have happened. I mean, we received an almost private tour for the price of a group tour. :) We began our tour in earnest by trekking across a long valley towards the base of some tall mountains where quite a few caves are located. We hiked along a trail that led from the main paved road to a small village and the caves beyond. We walked beside canals and rice paddies that created a lovely escape from the horror of the road itself. You see, it rained in Laos a LOT in the last few days. In fact, it poured. The result of this downpour of water was a muddy, soupy mess of a roadway. The unpaved road was a muddy swamp that sucked your feet down into the morass of reddish-brown goo. Having come ready for some “easy trekking” and our tubing adventure later in the day, our feet were incased in flip flops. It wasn’t long before Zenia and I were splattered all over with mud, front and back, due to the flip of our flops. Each step sucked our feet down into the mud (unless we were lucky and there was a raised, drier patch of ground), forcing us to yank our feet out, which shot mud up into the air in all directions (mostly in the direction of a clean spot on clothing).

Luckily, we had also come prepared to get very dirty. During our walk around town on Saturday afternoon we had seen several people return from tubing on the river and had noticed that they all returned extraordinarily filthy. Therefore, I had purchased shorts, a tank top, and some sandals simply to ruin during our long day on the river and was prepared. So, the mud did not really bother me and as soon as I pointed out to Zenia that in the US and Canada we would pay hundreds of dollars for a Local Laos Mud Skin Rejuvenating Treatment, we agreed that we didn’t mind getting a bit dirty.

So, we trekked through the mud, tramping along the Laos countryside for about 4 km until we arrived at the first set of caves. The mountains in Northern Laos are astounding sights, imposing crags that are carpeted green at the base and along the top, but look as if someone took a cheese grater to the sides of the top, shredding off patches of forest and revealing the jagged stone beneath. The caves that riddle the base of these mountains were formed from the water that runs down through the mountain, causing huge caverns to be cut out of the limestone sides. There are four main caves that tours in Vang Vieng visit and the first stop covers two of them. The first cave is located a few hundred feet up the side of the mountain, requiring a short hike through some woods to reach the entrance. Unfortunately, I don’t know the local name for the cave, so we will have to call it the Buddha Cave. The cave system is comprised of three main large chambers with some small tunnels connecting each of the chambers to the others.

We entered the cave with only a single, small headlamp each to illuminate our way, which meant that we were unable to see much without some concentrated head angling and that looking at each other caused blindness as we flashed each other with our lights. :) The slight illumination made the caves even more mysterious and interesting, however. The first room was a fairly plain chamber, although huge, with a slanting floor that seemed to push the visitor from the entrance further into the depths of the dark. Once again the rain struck a vicious blow, having run into the cave and turned the floor into one slick mass of mud. Zenia and I relinquished our sandals at the entrance to the cave and proceeded inside barefoot. Simply making it 20 feet past the entrance was a test of strength, agility, and balance. We must have made a hilarious sight, slipping and sliding our way across the floors, legs randomly sprawling out to the sides and us catching our balance with our hands on the floor in the mud, just in time to prevent a disastrous fall on our butts that would have left us sliding across the floor with no real way to stop. It took us about 10 minutes to navigate our way inside the entrance to the first cave and even more time to make our way to some drier ground off to the side of the cavern.

Funny Story-
As we neared the bottom of the first chambers’ initial slope, Zenia let out a gasp and grabbed my shoulders, shifting me in my precarious position so that I was between her and some unknown object within the cave. Swaying in my spot, trying desperately not to lose my balance and plunge down into the mud where I was sure to slide across the floor of the cave to the far wall, I asked what was wrong. In reply, a shaky arm came up next to my shoulder, pointed into the distance and Zenia said, “I saw eyes!” At this moment I could just imagine what she was thinking, “A bear is here in the cave with us!” but I was thinking something more along the lines of, “Ooo! A dragon?” Excitement laced through me, mixed with a heavy dose of trepidation at the thought of a wild Laos beast in our cave. Fortunately and unfortunately, it was neither a bear nor a dragon. As I looked in the direction of her pointing finger, my headlamp illuminated the head and body of a black dog, the same dog that had been following us from the local village and through the mountains, into the cave. Yes, indeed. Zenia had seen the reflective eyes of the vicious cave dog – complete with wagging tail and smiling face. With a quick laugh by me, and a reassurance that there were no bears from our guide, we set off again.

The cave itself was beautiful and we enjoyed our periodic looks around, when our balance was enough secured to allow us to break from our extreme concentration on our feet. When it came time to move into the next two chambers Zenia opted to remain behind, tired of the arduous caving and already feeling some cramping in her legs and feet from the exertion. Keven, our guide, and I pushed on, however, and went deeper into the pits. Each room was more stunning than the last. The second was a large, plain chamber where, we were informed, local kids often liked to come to play a game of football in the dark. But the third was the best. This cave sported a pool of water at the far end where it collected from a continuous stream feeding down from the ceiling. It also had what was called a “snake rock.” This was a bit of limestone on the floor of the cave where the water had dissolved some of the rock, creating small channels on the floor where the water would run back and forth in serpentine streams, separated by thin rock walls. Once you stand below this series of switchbacks you can see a snake formed in the walls that jut out of the floor.

We spent quite a while exploring these caves, about 30 minutes in rapt fascination with our surroundings, before finally returning to the main cave and Zenia and then slowly making our way across the floor towards the entrance once again. In the end I gave up the fight of keeping any bit of myself clean and bent over to use my hands to assist hauling me up the slope while my feet kept trying to slide away from me. When we reached the outside world again it was something of a relief, if only to not be struggling against the slick mud. After a quick hike back down the hillside, we took another trail across the base of the mountain to our second cave of the day.

***I am now getting ready to leave Vientiane for Thailand by bus and cannot finish this day’s adventures at this time. Tune in tomorrow for the amazing conclusion to my Vang Vieng fun and some news about my travels back to Thailand and to the island of Phuket, the next stop in my journey.

Last Weekend in Laos – Vang Vieng

Our final weekend in Laos. How could it have come to the end so soon? Oh wait…it didn’t. In fact, I have been counting down to this period for a while. I am ready to come home! But that is not the only reason I was looking forward to our final weekend in Laos. Our friends who were visiting from Chiang Mai left Vientiane on Wednesday to spend a few days in Luang Prabang and would then be meeting us in Vang VIeng on Saturday! Zenia and I had been planning this weekend for months and our trip to Vang Vieng signified the end of our travels around Laos as it was the last major place to go in this country.

Vang Vieng is located about 3 ½ hours North of Vientiane and can only be described as the party town of Laos. It is a place of drunkenness and revelry where people go to enjoy caving, kayaking, tubing on Nam Song River with frequent stops at riverside bars for bucket drinking (literally a bucket of an alcoholic beverage), mud volleyball, tug of war, etc. It’s filled with falang, being the place to go for serious drinking (and pot smoking – I do not partake) fun in SE Asia. Zenia and I decided we had to go as it was the last place for us to visit in Laos and would make our travels in this country complete. So when Ellie and Vanessa expressed an interest in going and meeting us there we jumped on the band wagon and headed out.

We decided early on, based on the activities available in Vang Vieng (as we all know, I’m not a drinker, so the alcohol held no appeal for me), we would only spend two days and one night in Vang Vieng, heading back to Vientiane on Sunday afternoon. However, we learned at work on Thursday that we would have Monday off as it was a major Buddhist holiday and we decided to extend our stay one extra night and come home on Monday morning instead. So, we spent our weekend in Vang Vieng, making the 3 ½ trip by bus on Saturday morning and the trip home via minivan on Monday morning.

Zenia and I had packed for our weekend on Friday evening and simply got up on Saturday morning, caught a tuk-tuk to downtown and went to Fruit Heaven for some breakfast. Our breakfast was amazing although a bit of a mistake as the shakes were so good that I drank two! Think about two large fruit shakes and then a 3 ½ hour bus ride. See the problem? Our bus was scheduled to leave for Vang Vieng at 10 am, but in typical Asian-time fashion, didn’t depart until around 11 am. We set out with a bus full of people, mostly European students who just got released for their summer holiday.

The bus ride itself was fairly uneventful. The first half of the trip was an easy drive through the Vientiane valley toward the mountains in the North. At the base of the mountains we made a pit stop for toilets and beverages – a blessing as I was in dire need of a restroom. Well, I have now learned that the further north you go in Laos, the fewer Western toilets you will find. At this particular rest stop we were each charged 1,000 kip to use the facilities which consisted of squatter toilets! I know you have all been waiting for the day when I finally use the more “native toilets” and that day has finally come. On Saturday afternoon at approximately 12:43 pm yours truly used a squatter toilet and I have to say…it wasn’t so bad.

The restrooms consisted of a dozen small rooms housing individual toilets within a large warehouse type structure. Each room was formed of plywood thrown up to form three walls and a door to cover the fourth wall. I walked into the “restroom,” closed the door behind me and surveyed the scene. I was standing in a small space with a garbage can to my right and a bucket filled with water on my left. I hung my backpack on a nail next to the door and contemplated my options. There was no way to avoid using the bathroom here (I did have TWO shakes earlier after all), so I would just have to suck it up. The “toilet” was set into the floor so that it was flush with the ground level. It is a roundish oval shape with places for your feet on either side that have grippers for the soles of your shoes. After using the “toilet” (I’ll leave that to your imagination), you use the bucket of water to “flush.” You simply continue to fill up the bowl of the toilet with water, which flushes the toilet. It’s all very interesting…and something I don’t really want to do again. I think I’ll just stick with my western toilets in the future. :)

Meanwhile in Luang Prabang…Our friends had departed Luang Prabang at 7 am to begin the 6 hour drive south to Vang VIeng. At the halfway point of their trip they ran into their first landslide. Laos had seen a huge deluge of water for the past week and a half and the result was horrendous landslides in the mountains. While on the bus we received a text update informing us that they planned to “wait it out” and in 3 hours or so it had been cleared by some locals and the long stream of traffic was back on their way. Ten minutes later they ran into their second landslide. And in this way their day continued…an unending series of landslides on the road to Vang Vieng.

Back on the Road from Vientiane…We got back on the road and began our ascent into the mountains. The road was a vicious serpentine that slithered through the mountains and induced many to sickness as the bus drivers are insane and take curves at a disastrous rate, passing other vehicles on blind turns, etc. The mountains more than made up for this, however. It was stunning. Every available inch of land was covered with thick forests except near the road where small villages sprang out of the landscape. Rice fields cultivated by the local farmers surrounded the immediate roadside, curving and turning into the base of the hillside, no longer the perfectly formed rectangular patches that can be found in the valleys of Laos, but odd triangular, curving shapes. The forests were a thick jungle, deserving of the title of rain forest, which made our drive beautiful and made the time pass more quickly.

Our bus arrived in Vang Vieng at around 2:30 pm. For each of our previous trips Zenia and I planned everything out, having our guesthouses booked ahead of time, a car/tuk-tuk ready to get us at the bus station, and activities planned for every moment of our trip, but this is not possible or advisable for Vang Vieng. Instead, going with the flow and figuring it out once you arrive is the suggested method of travel to this party town. Therefore, when we stepped off the bus in Vang Vieng we were without housing and without a clue. Luckily this was not a problem. The true town (for locals) is located at a bit of a distance from what is considered Vang Vieng today and the modern falang city center of Vang Vieng is covered in tourists, guesthouses, restaurants, and bars, a haven for the cheap backpacker. Zenia and I began to walk around the town in search for a guesthouse and after 10 minutes of walking had seen the entire town. Yup. It’s smaller than Luang Prabang.

On the Road From LP…The *ahem* interesting travel day continued for our beleaguered friends. At each landslide they were forced to get out of the bus and walk across the landslide so as not to weigh the bus down further during its crossing of the half cleared soil on the road. At one point they even had to push the bus across the landslide.

Now in Vang Vieng…We finally settled on a guesthouse that had air-conditioned rooms with two beds for 80,000 kip per night ($5 per person per night!), the average rate for an average room. After dropping off our bags in our room, we set out to take a closer look at the town and explore before our friends arrived. As I mentioned, the town is very small, consisting of about four blocks square. One of the highlights of the town is the cafes and restaurants. All open to the air, they consist of raised cubbies where patrons recline against pillows and cushions with tables over their legs and watch TVs that are mounted on the walls. These TVs play a continuous stream of Friends reruns (a very popular American TV show for those of you who aren’t up on pop culture) giving us our first taste of American TV in almost three months! Zenia and I were hooked (and hungry). We curled up in one of the booths, ordered some lemon juice and food and proceeded to watch a couple hours of Friends.

Meanwhile, three hours from Vang Vieng…A final landslide on the road from LP had proved too much for the bus and it was unable to go on. Our friends, not to be deterred, bargained with a van driver at the scene to drive them the rest of the way and for a mere 100,000 kip ($12) they were once again on the road to VV at 6 pm.

Back in VV…After the latest update from our LP crew, Zenia and I decided to head back to our guesthouse, clean up a bit, and then go out for some dinner. We ate at a bakery restaurant that was recommended by Lonely Planet and quite good. After dinner, while waiting for our group to arrive, we wasted time watching more Friends and relaxing. At 9:45 pm we began heading back to our guesthouse to continue the wait when a green shape ahead of us began to scream and then became a blur as it ran towards us. The green blob threw itself into our arms and we realized it was Vanessa who was nearly crying with her relief at being in Vang Vieng, almost 15 hours after she had set out from LP.

Our group was reunited and it felt good. Added to the four of us was Chris, also an intern in Chiang Mai, and a friend of his traveling in SE Asia, Lorena. I don’t think I have ever seen a more bedraggled and tired bunch. We collected our group and set off for our guesthouse so they could rent two rooms and shower. At 10:30 pm we set off again to find food for the LP group. The evening ended early as we were all quite tired and Zenia and I had a big day planned for Sunday. During our walk around the city earlier in the day we had stopped at a travel agency and booked a tour of caving, trekking and tubing for the next day, which would start at 9:30 am Sunday morning. Now prepare yourselves for some fun times tomorrow, because that is when the real adventures started!

One Final Day, Still No Halong Bay

We awoke Sunday morning ready for our adventure to Halong Bay. We got up early in the morning, ate a quick breakfast in our guesthouse and sat down in the lobby to wait. And wait. And wait some more. At 9: 20 am we conceded defeat and resigned ourselves to the fact that we would not be going to Halong Bay on this trip to Vietnam. Instead, we would spend one final day in Hanoi.

Travel in SE Asia is at times extraordinarily easy and at other time extraordinarily frustrating. On Saturday we had stopped at a travel agency, Kangaroo Travel, to buy day tickets to Halong Bay. We were told by the proprietor that our trip might be canceled depending on the dreaded typhoon. He said that a van would be at our guesthouse to pick us up in the morning and that if it didn’t arrive, we could assume the trip was canceled. And this is exactly what happened. No Halong Bay for us. Instead, we were given one final day to explore Hanoi.

After returning our unnecessary items from our backpacks to our room (bathing suits, hats, extra sunscreen *sigh*), we headed out into the city once more. This was a hard day for us as we had really done everything we had wanted to do in Hanoi by this point. Having thoroughly explored the Old Quarter already, Zenia and I headed back to the area around St. Joseph’s Cathedral to explore it a little more thoroughly. We wandered through tiny alleyways and larger thoroughfares, enjoying a leisurely journey through a slightly quieter part of Hanoi. After three days in Hanoi I discovered the trick to finding a bit of peace in the cacophony – leave the main part of the city. Just run away to the back alleys and avoid the sight of any type of vehicle. Even then, the faint sound of honking can be heard from the main streets in the distance, but if you try very hard you can almost convince yourself it is just a few strange sounding birds. (I have obviously caught Bobby’s sickness. Hanoi tends to do that to you.)

We ate lunch at another restaurant near the Cathedral, La Salsa and then got a foot massage. Our time was relaxing and enjoyable, but as we stumbled back out onto the city streets we realized we had nothing left to do. Indeed, we spent the rest of our afternoon and evening whiling away the hours, sitting on benches by the lake, eating a last sorbet at Fanny’s, and a dinner at a terrible restaurant near our guesthouse. In a final grasp for something to do, we headed off to the Night Market, which was located only a few blocks from our guesthouse in the Old Quarter. That was an utter nightmare. Unlike the Night Markets of Thailand, Laos, and Camboida, which are dedicated towards trade with tourists, the Night Market of Vietnam is oriented toward natives and they come out in droves.

The evening was extremely hot and humid, so much so that our skin was bathed in a sheen of perpetual sweat. Unfortunately, this was true for everyone, which I can attest to personally. There were thousands of people wandering down the street. Shops on the sides of the street were open and ready for business and tables with tents over them formed an aisle in the center of the road. Follow the rules of the road (drive on the right side) people flowed down these aisles in a constant stream, leaving not a single ounce of breathing room between bodies. To enter the river of people you had to simply push your way in and hope for the best. Once you entered it was impossible to leave. I led the way with Zenia behind and as we walked/were pushed along I found it impossible to turn in any direction, unable to even move enough to direct my attention to where she stood behind me. The density of the crowd made the night even hotter and we were smashed so tightly together that I could feel the sweat on the arms of my neighbors. (Ew!) We managed to walk down four blocks in this manner before we turned around to return the other way. If anything this side was worse…babies were being pushed in strollers, taking up an inordinate amount of room and making the crowd even slower so that we moved only 15 feet in 2 minutes or so. We thought we would never survive and at the first opportunity, shoved our way to the outskirts of the crowd so that we could turn down a side-street and escape.

Having pushed and shoved our way to freedom, Zenia and I looked at each other and knew we were done with Hanoi. We headed back to our guesthouse and breathed a sigh of relief at being alone in the silence (relative silence – those horns were still blaring) of our private room. We showered and got into bed, ready to leave Hanoi in the early hours of the morning, content with our experiences in Vietnam.

It is probably unfair of me to make a comparison of the SE Asian countries I have seen with Vietnam based on so limited acquaintance with that country (I had only seen the capital city after all), but I feel comfortable saying that it was my least favorite country of SE Asia and the last one I would return to on any second travels I make to this region. Comparisons on any level show that this is the lowest country on my list. Food-wise, Laos ranks at the top of the list followed by Thailand and Cambodia with Vietnam coming in dead last. On a scale of history and things to see, Vietnam is by far the lowest as their history seems to begin and end with Ho Chi Minh and the constant need to tear down the old and build something new they seem to feel means that there is very little of the ancient Vietnam to see today. After visiting the four SE Asian countries of BABSEA, I am extremely happy I was placed in Laos. Zenia and I agree that there is no place quite like Laos and the calm and serenity the country exudes is the perfect tonic at the end of a long day at work. My only sorrow now is that I have so few days left in this beloved country (yes, only days left).

This weekend I will be exploring one final place in Laos, Vang Vieng, which is located just a few hours north of Vientiane. Tomorrow morning we will be taking a bus up to Vang Vieng to meet our Chiang Mai friends, Ellie and Vanessa, for a weekend of tubing on the Nam Song River, exploring nearby caves, and general fun. I will be back on Monday afternoon, so expect some amazing stories around then!

The Typhoon Arrives

In our original plan for Vietnam Zenia and I were supposed to get up early on Saturday morning and be heading for a two day trip to Halong Bay, but an incoming typhoon nixed that idea. Instead, we were given another day in Hanoi and our Halong Bay adventure was transformed into a one day visit on Sunday. Having had only one evening to explore the Old Quarter so far, Zenia and I decided that we would start our adventures there and wander through the maze of the oldest part of Hanoi.

For such a small place it is amazing how much can be packed in and how much time it can take to wander through the streets. While the city may at first seem to have no real plan or organization, it would be a mistake to assume so. It takes quite a bit of meandering and close observation, but a dedicated walker will discover that Hanoi organizes itself into sections within sections. Firstly, you have the sections of “Quarters” of the city. In Hanoi you can get any cab to take you to the Old Quarter, the French Quarter, etc. Within each Quarter, there is further organization of the myriad shops and stores. You see, Hanoi organizes itself so that the majority of a type of store (shoe stores, t-shirt stores, motorbike repair shops, etc.) will be located on the same street. While some streets present a hodgepodge of goods and wares, occasionally you will make a right turn and find yourself presented with a long line of shoe stores, where tables spill out of the shops onto the sidewalk (the areas not covered with motorbikes) and are covered in every type of shoe imaginable. Another right turn at the end of that street may find you presented with a street of hat sellers, selling traditional Vietnamese conical hats, fedoras, straw floppy hats, etc. It is true that you may be able to find a single shoe store or hat shop on any one street in Hanoi, but to find the good deals and widest selection you must travel to the street of hats, shoes, and other items sold by the shop keepers.

Time flew away from us in the Old Quarter and soon it was time to meet Bobby near St. Joseph’s Cathedral, the one Catholic Church we know of in Hanoi. St. Joseph’s Cathedral is an oddity in the center of Hanoi. It is located near Hoan Kiem (the central lake) and looks as if someone took a moderate sized (moderate for a Catholic church built in a grand style) French cathedral and dropped it into the center of a modern city. Hanoi itself has very little in the buildings or architecture to reveal that it is in SE Asia. In fact, it takes some serious looking to find the Asian influence within the buildings of the city, which can most often be spotted in the rooflines where small spires stretch toward the sky at each meeting of multiple sections of roof. But the people and customs more than make up for the western style architecture as they are decidedly SE Asian (once again I must point to the motorbike-sidewalk issue). Therefore, despite the general architecture of the city, within which the cathedral might have looked normal, it looks like a complete oddity, set down in the middle of Hanoi without thought for its ability to blend in with its surroundings.

There is no denying that the Cathedral is quite beautiful and after two and a half months living in SE Asia it was a relief to see something so Western and familiar. We met Bobby and ate lunch at a small restaurant in the Cathedral square called La Place. As we were sitting on the rooftop waiting for our meal it began to rain, forcing us to seek shelter inside. The leading edge of the typhoon had arrived ant throughout the rest of the afternoon we were plagued with spitting fits of rain. In defense against the insane weather, Bobby and Zenia purchased some ponchos (read, trashbags) while I stuck with my umbrella. We had a wonderful lunch and then began to wander around St. Joseph’s Cathedral.

Our exploring of the area concluded early as we were merely wandering around without a goal or purpose and without stopping in any of the stores along the way and as soon as we were finished with that area, we headed around the lake in search of a bookstore called The Bookworm that Lonely Planet recommended we visit. Now, the thing about bookstores in Vietnam is that you won’t be able to find any books that are not vetted and authorized by the Vietnamese government. All book publishers must get a government ok to publish books, meaning it is impossible to find any book on the history of Vietnam that is not 100% in line with the current government’s thoughts. Scary. After coming from a country that allows any books to be published, whether for or against the current administration, it is disconcerting to enter a country where the government controls all forms of media with such a strict hand. We walked for over 30 minutes looking for this bookstore and never managed to find it! :) We explored some interesting parts of the city though and ended up in the French Quarter, which simply had buildings that looked more French than most.

After we conceded defeat on the book front, we headed back toward Hoan Kiem and visited one of the two small temples that sit on islands in the lake. One temple sits on an island very near the center and has no visible means of transportation to or from (besides the obvious – a boat). The other temple sits very near the shore and is accessible by a bridge. Unfortunately, this temple is not very interesting as it is very commercialized. The island itself is quite small, able to hold maybe 100 people total, and motorbikes are parked behind the main building making it obvious that this is a temple made for tourists rather than a devout spot to visit. In fact, compared to the other SE Asian countries we have visited, there are very few temples in Vietnam, which should not have been such a shock to me as I knew that Vietnam was quite different than the other countries as it does not have a high concentration of Buddhism. In fact, most of people in Vietnam are of a religion that has no true name (according to my source) and that is mix of religions from India, China, and ancient native religions. Therefore, we had expected this temple to be something quite interesting as it was something of an oddity in Hanoi, but, alas, we were doomed to be disappointed. In the end, we simply walked around the island and left, a bit sad that we had wasted 10,000 Dong on that experience. We continued to circle the lake and then headed off to our guesthouse to relax for a little while, away from the heat of the afternoon.

That night we ate dinner at a restaurant near the lake and then headed over to Fanny’s for more(!) sorbet. I took every opportunity I could find to eat that delicious icy treat as I knew I would not be able to experience it again until I am back home. As we were leaving Fanny’s we met up with Laura and Abbey and two of the Vietnamese girls they work with, Hien and Tram. The two girls were amazing and we spent the evening bar hopping around the Old Quarter. We listened to classic American music in the Mao Bar, went dancing at the Cheeky Quarter, and ate grilled cheese sandwiches at our final bar of the night. :) Vietnam is another country that has imported the most delicious drink of all time – cranberry juice – and the whole night I was ordering them! Delicious!

During the course of our visit to Mao (the first bar of the evening) it began raining in a torrential flood outside, forcing people in out of the wet and our new Vietnamese friends home before the streets flooded too badly. While Hanoi is built for the intense weather it suffers each year, no amount of preparation can deal with the amount of water that comes down when Vietnam gets serious about the rain. Laura, Abbey, and Bobby assured us that flooding was completely normal and that they had been forced to wade through knee deep water to reach work on multiple occasions. On rainy days in Vietnam, you won’t see any natives out and about because they know that when it rains, it pours. That night, he typhoon came to Hanoi. The rain was intense, lightening for a few minutes here and there, and then coming down in a mad fury designed to wash away anyone silly enough to be outside. Luckily we were not that silly and stayed indoors, having a good time talking with the Vietnamese girls, getting our nails painted by them, and singing along to our American music. Quite an enjoyable way to spend an evening!

Museum Madness: Part 2

Now where were we? Ah…

We ate lunch at a cute little restaurant opposite the Temple of Literature that had been recommended by Lonely Planet as not only a place with good food, but one that helps out in the local community as well. KOTO, Know One Teach One, is a restaurant that employs street kids from a shelter, teaching them how to work in the restaurant industry in various capacities as waiters, managers, chefs, etc. The food was simply stunning, a wonderful array of traditional Vietnamese food. I ordered and devoured a plate of fried wontons, served with a traditional sweet Vietnamese dipping sauce and fresh vegetable salad. It was a relief simply to be inside with air conditioning and out of the heat of the day, which felt like an oppressive weight on our shoulders, pushing us slowly into the ground until each step was difficult. Our time eating, drinking lemonade (still limeade, but it’s no use telling them that), and resting under the A/C was very rejuvenating and after a leisurely time at KOTO we headed out for the next activity on our list.

I feel it is important to tell you at this time that we were not eating in the traditional Vietnamese way. While the restaurants we patronized were often serving traditional Vietnamese food, the restaurants themselves were in no way traditional, being very westernized sit-down places. Most Vietnamese restaurants are small hole-in-the-wall places with no English menu and no real English language. You simply walk up to the woman who appears to be in charge (the one next to the clay cooking pot on the ground in front of the shop is usually a good bet) and ask for food. If you are brave you can ask for a particular dish, but do not hold your breath that you will receive it, for odds are that you will get something completely different – whatever they happen to have left. There are no adult sized tables or chairs in these places, but small plastic tables that three year olds would appreciate and plastic stools that sit one foot off the ground. These are where you dine. Your food will arrive, what you ordered or not, and you will sit at your little doll-sized table and eat whatever has been prepared, springroll soup, pig ear, dog, you name it, they will serve it. To be perfectly honest with you all, I simply could not get myself to eat in this manner and stuck to places where I could sit down at a table meant for people above three feet in height.

Our final planned stop of the day involved heading out by taxi to the Vietnam Museum of Ethnology, which is dedicated to the display of traditional ethnic tribe cultures of Vietnam. While the main Museum building looks fairly impressive, it is really the grounds that are worth the 15,000 Dong admission price. (Roughly 19,050 Dong = $1 US, giving Vietnam the highest gap in value with the dollar.) When we arrived at the Museum we immediately began walking towards the main building that stands behind the white metal gate guarding the driveway, but our attention was caught halfway to our destination by a large sign off to one side of the walkway. Heading over to see if any information was pertinent to our visit, we discovered that in addition to the Museum building itself, the Museum of Ethnology includes extensive grounds where various building reproductions have been built that display structures and lifestyles of traditional Vietnamese rural cultures. Deciding that we should take advantage of the slightly cooler atmosphere that had descended on us as clouds had rolled in after noon we followed the path around the side of the main building toward the first of 25 building exhibits.

We wandered around the buildings for over an hour, enjoying our time outside even though the heat was increasing exponentially as the cloud cover moved away. We climbed up impossibly steep ladder-stairs to reach meeting houses on stilts and explored compound style homes that would fit generations of families in a space that would only fit one traditional family in North America. When we finally got around to exploring the Museum later we were a bit disappointed and rushed through, eager to go somewhere cool for a break from our day of exploration.

Somehow we had managed to finish Lonely Planet’s “A Day in Hanoi” by 2 pm (as the Museum of Ethnology was the last visit on our list) and had nothing much left to do that evening. We headed back towards our hotel and after a stop for some sorbet at Fanny’s we wandered into the Old Quarter, content to simply meander our way through the winding streets. Like many of the other SE Asian countries, Vietnam’s main streets are very wide boulevards reminiscent of their French colonial period (all except Thailand, which was colonized by the English - those dummies drive on the wrong side of the road!); however, the Old Quarter of the city is a different story altogether. Jammed into a space only 10 or so blocks square, the Old Quarter is full of twisting winding alleys and narrow lanes. Every bit of land is filled with shops of one kind or another making the small area seem even smaller as wares from the shops that can be as narrow as a three foot opening in the wall spill out onto the street. Every bit of sidewalk is commandeered by the hundreds of motorbikes used by the Vietnamese residents, forcing pedestrians onto the streets where they are incessantly honked at by angry cars trying to wind their way through the maze.

It is impossible to get lost in the Old Quarter of Hanoi as it is simply not big enough to get lost within and there is always something new to see as you wander down the same streets you have visited before. We wandered around the streets of the Old Quarter for a few hours, stopping anywhere that caught our fancy and at several cafes for lemon juices and water. That night Laura and Abbey were unable to come out with us, so Bobby, Zenia and I remained in the Old Quarter, dining at a small restaurant with more traditional Vietnamese food. After eating Vietnamese off and on during my time there I can now attest that it is my least favorite Asian food. I simply don’t like it. The only Vietnamese that I ate during our time in Hanoi that I actually enjoyed was at KOTO and I suspect now that was simply a fluke (probably Westernized Vietnamese). It is hard to pin down what I don’t like about the food from this country, something about the blend of flavors does not sit well with me and I will be happy not to eat Vietnamese for a long time.

That was the end of that evening and as Zenia and I were quite tired and Bobby needed to get home, so we called it a night and headed back to our guesthouse (Bobby went home in a cab). Now, many of you may recall that Zenia and I were supposed to travel to Halong Bay for an overnight on a junk boat on Saturday morning. Well, it was canceled. Why? A typhoon blew into Vietnam specifically to ruin our fun! On Friday afternoon we heard that there were typhoon warnings for Halong Bay and that our overnight was no longer an option. We decided that it was a good thing as we had no desire to be on a boat in the middle of a storm. After visiting a travel agency, we decided to schedule a day trip to Halong instead on Sunday and content ourselves with one afternoon on the Vietnam coast. Therefore, Saturday was filled with more touring of Hanoi…