Once our boat from Don Det hit shore, we were confronted by a man screaming at us in Laos and frantically flailing his arms. He turned to run down a dirt road motioning us to follow....so we did. With our huge packs and the sun beating down on us, we chased after him and thankfully arrived at our bus just as I was about to pass out. What awaited us was another pick-up truck with benches on either side, and a roof piled with bags. We were clearly the last two the bus was waiting for as about 80 people had already beat us there and once again, Ian and I were forced to hold on for dear life at the back.
Some shifting allowed me to fall into the crowd and wedge myself between someone who had never heard of deodorant and a large odd sack full of mystery contents. Unfortunately, Ian did not get that same option and being the chivalrous man he is, he let some woman with a huge bag of ducks, that's right, a huge net bag of ducks, shove by him and take the last 4cm left inside. On top of that, the woman was carrying a bunch of chickens (20 or so) tied together by their feet? Claw? Whatever. She carried them upside down like a bunch of bananas, while they squawked and flapped their wings wildly. The bus driver mindlessly swung the chickens toward us, intending on just tossing them onto our laps, when the entire bus load started screaming, terrified of being a victim of this clucking grenade about to be launched on us. The woman and the driver looked shocked that no one wanted 20 chickens on their lap, and in a huff the driver threw the whole pack of them onto the roof with the bags, taking no notice of these being live animals.
Meanwhile, apparently the 6 inch wide step Ian was teetering off of on the back of the bus was just too much space to give to one person, so it only made sense that the driver slid the entire bag of ducks onto Ian's feet. You can already guess what happened as soon as that bus started moving. Within minutes, twelve nervous ducks commenced their assault on Ian's feet, leaving Ian moaning and writhing in disgust. While still trying to hold onto the back of the bus as we flew down the dirt road, Ian attempted to pour out the green slime pooled in his sandals. Suddenly, we hit a bump and off flew the chickens from the roof! The rope tying their feet together caught on the ladder while the chickens went absolutely mental, swinging upside down, only inches from the ground. As if Ian wasn't already in the worst position possible, the whole bus watched as he embarked on his first chicken rescue mission. Then for some reason, the woman to whom the chickens belonged started actually caring about her precious pack of fowl and for reasons unknown, thought Ian was trying to harm them, and she started to attack him. Please just picture Ian sliding around in his gooey sandals, hanging on with his finger tips, and reaching out as far as he can to unhook 20 chickens from a ladder, while some crazy Laos woman is beating him up! The chickens were then swung into the bus anyway and complete chaos broke out! Chicken's squawking, ducks quacking wildly, a mad Laos woman screaming, Ian about to lose it, and the rest of the passengers freaking out over the scene.......Then the mystery bag beside me came to life and a bunch of little heads started poking up under the plastic, going absolutely bizzurk! Ian got so fed up he climbed onto the roof to take refuge with the luggage and wait out the rest of the 3 hour ride. You know....there are just some experiences that until you are in them, wondering how you even got there, you could not have imagined in your wildest dreams.
Once back in Pakse we boarded another bus heading up to Sivanakhet for another 5 hours. Eventually, we arrived intending on catching a bus straight to Hanoi, when we realized our money situation was dire. In fact, we were in trouble. Since there are no ATMs in Laos we had to get all our cash before we got there, and by the end were left with $18..... $2 short of the price for bus tickets. It was after 6pm so the banks were closed. Then we found out that because the next day was was Sunday, the bus didn't run at all. We were desperate to get to Vietnam that night as our visas were already activated 3 days earlier and we were left with only a mere 3 1/2 weeks. We put our pennies together and just managed to afford an overnight bus that landed us in Dong Ha, a little town just across the boarder. We were naive to the popularity of this particular bus, so after Ian, by chance, started chatting to some random man who just happened to own the whole bus station, we could not have been more grateful when he sought us out and personally ushered us in front of the large, angry crowd of locals waiting at the bus doors, and onto the bus. We had heard horror stories about the overnight bus across the Laos/ Vietnam boarder and our experience only confirmed the rumours. The seats were so close together that it seemed like a cruel joke, as it was not humanly possible to sit facing forward. On top of that, we had great big bags of rice at our feet, stacked halfway up the seat in front of us. The isles were packed to the brim as well, with people sitting on top of everything. Claustrophobic is not the word. As soon as the bus started, over half the passengers lit up a cigarette and since the windows only opened a couple inches, within minutes we were struggling to breath. Hour after torturous hour, we endured the ride. I would have given anything to be back on the chicken bus. At 2am we arrived at some random restaurant. Since the only instructions given were in Laos, everyone but us got off, while we stayed thinking it was a 10 min toilet break.
5 hours later, after being bombarded with people demanding money for different things and having to hand over our passports, the bus finally started and we finished the last 10 min ride to the boarder, only to endure more gruelling hours of forms to fill out, questions to answer, line-ups, and waiting, waiting, waiting. Midday and 30 hours without sleep, our bus arrived.....and then left Dong Ha. The bus driver had apparently forgotten that this is where we were to be dropped off and suddenly remembered when we were already 4km out of town. We were dropped off on the side of the highway and left to make the 4km trek back into town. Another Canadian guy and English girl got off with us (we were the only 4 Westerners on the bus to decided to stick together) and we were glad for the company since we immediately felt like we were surrounded by vultures. Instantly, men on motorbikes rode up, trying to get us to pay them to take us to town. For 4 km they followed along side us calling out, while locals laughed nastily, yelling out comments in Vietnamese. We were certainly not in Laos anymore. Desperate for money, Ian and I went on a hunt for an ATM that would accept our cards. None did. Defeated, tired, and miserable, we had no idea what we were going to do. Then a miracle happened. Ros, the English girl offered to lend us money to buy our tickets to Hanoi. Hallelujah! That evening we boarded our last bus for the overnight journey north to Hanoi. This had officially been the longest 48 hours of our lives!
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1 comment:
Good for people to know.
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