Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Han-noyed
We arrived in Hanoi at 5am, exhausted and nervous. Since nearly everyone we had met who had been to Hanoi had a story of how their bags had been stolen or they had been robbed, we were not feeling all too comfortable about being dropped off on some random street while still dark out. As soon as we stepped off the bus we were targeted, and about ten leering Vietnamese men surrounded us, while trying to bully us into going with them somewhere. We knew where we wanted to go, but it is impossible to trust any driver because they are known for dropping you off at a fake hotel that appears to be shutdown, so they can then take you to another one and make more money off of you. We quickly walked away and luckily found a taxi that would take us to a central landmark, where we could navigate ourselves to our guesthouse.
We (Ros, the English girl was still with us) spent the day roaming around the streets of this CRAZY city. None of us had ever experienced anything like it. Thousands upon thousands of motorcycles crammed the streets and sidewalks, going in every direction, regardless of what side they were supposed to be on. We quickly learned that the only way to cross the road was to take a deep breath, step down and hope they swerve to avoid you. I was freaking out. Ian of course was loving it.
One day in the city was enough and we promptly booked a trip to Ha long Bay, famous for its thousands of limestone outcrops jetting out of its waters. After a bus ride to the port, a group of us boarded a gorgeous antique looking sleeper ship. The scenery was incredible. We spent the day sailing through the infinite collage of tall thin rock formations that stretched right out to the horizon. We stopped to explore some mighty big caves and admire the ancient stalagmites and stalactites (I can never remember which is which). While the sun set, we set out in kayaks to explore the intricate maze of islands.
That evening our boat landed at Cat Ba Island and a group of us went out for some drinks and Vietnamese cuisine. Lets just say we were in for a real shock. Up until then, we kept seeing hard boiled eggs being sold with either the number 1, 2, or 3 written on it. What we discovered when one of the guys opened up his egg with a 3 on it was that the numbers represent the stage of the chicken foetus' development. The sight was extremely disturbing, to say the least. Typically, Ian couldn't help himself and felt the need to gross me out even more by actually eating it. I will never look at him the same way again.
The next morning we went for a hike/ rock climb (which we are very good at by now), then back on the boat in the afternoon for an evening of entertainment. A bunch of very cool American guys on our boat decided to string up some bed sheets across the top deck, recruit our Vietnamese tour guide, and put on a brilliant Shakespear style play for us all that left us falling off the deck chairs with hysterical laughter! Our surroundings at night were so beautiful. Our boat anchored in a small cove, and was surrounded on all sides by the enormous rock walls looming over us, the mist and the moon creating the most haunting atmosphere. As the whiskey set in the boys decided to abandon ship and one after the other dove off the roof into the phosphorescent waters. Oh, crazy boys. We slept on the boat that night and early the next morning set sail for the long ride back.
Once back in Hanoi, the serenity of the last three days instantly wore off. Blaring horns, swerving motorbikes, and screaming Vietnamese people shook us back into reality.....and shaken we were. That night after a nice dinner with the group from our boat, Ian dropped me off at our hotel, then headed off to meet the guys for a drink. As I sat in our room I had a very uneasy feeling, although I attributed it to the presence of the giant rat that ran out from under our bed, which I had to battle out the door. Really, that's just another way of saying, I jumped onto the bed screaming, while this rat ran circles around me until it eventually found the door.
In the meantime, out on the street, Ian was being surrounded by three men on motorbikes, who subsequently held him at knife point and demanded all his money. Now, I would love to say that Ian responded as Crocodile Dundee had, when faced with the same situation - look at them and say, "You call that a knife? Now THIS is a knife." Then pull his own butcher knife out of his pants, of course. Okay, so it didn't work out that way. Ian was forced to give them what he had, no questions asked. It was lucky he only had about $12 on him, which he calmly handed over. What absolutely shocked him next, however, was when he noticed a group of about ten police men only about ten meters away, watching it all happen and not doing a thing! Once the men left, Ian ran over to the police, but they pretended not to understand and responded with complete indifference. The whole situation was really scary, as we were left realizing how alone we really were. There was absolutely no protection for us in this country.
We decided to leave Hanoi as soon as we could, but the next bus available wasn't for another two days. Our plan the next day was to go to the famous Chi Minh Mausoleum and museum. Since his death, Ho Chi Minh, the beloved ex-president of Vietnam is viewed more like a God. When he died his final request was to be cremated, so in good ole Vietnamese fashion, they discarded his wishes and instead, embalmed his corpse and put it on display in a glass sarcophagus for the public. Hey, why not? After hours looking for the Mausoleum, we finally found it, but were denied access as it was closed because it was Friday. Who knows? We then went to the Ho Chi Minh Museum, only to pay, then after 20 minutes be told to get out because they were closing. Turns out the museums are only open from 8am- 11am on the days they actually ARE open. Sure....makes perfect sense. Sigh....
By now, we were beyond annoyed with this city. The next day we counted the hours until our bus left. The bus finally pulled up and being overloaded as usual, they had run out of room for the luggage. With complete disregard, the man threw Ian's huge pack onto my lap and began pounding it into me with the door when it wouldn't close! We were in disbelief at the blatant rudeness of nearly every Vietnamese person we'd encountered so far. Never had either of us been treated this way before, and this is a country trying to build their economy from tourism! It is no wonder that 95% of tourists who visit Vietnam never go back. So far this was the most difficult country that either of us had travelled.
We boarded a larger bus for the rest of the journey south. For the next few hours the bus driver, blaring his horn, swerved in and out of traffic on the narrow, bumpy roads, at break-neck speed. I don't know how we didn't hit something since all the other buses were doing the same thing. As the unwilling participants in game after game of road chicken, pretty much all the Westerners (all eight of us) thought we were going to die. It was so terrifying, it was impossible to sleep, although it was impossible anyway since Ian and I were confined to 1 1/2 seats, while the Vietnamese man beside me laid across three seats, hooked his arm over my arm rest and leaned up against me! I felt like screaming, "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?"
*Deeeeep Breath!* It HAS to get better than this....right?
We (Ros, the English girl was still with us) spent the day roaming around the streets of this CRAZY city. None of us had ever experienced anything like it. Thousands upon thousands of motorcycles crammed the streets and sidewalks, going in every direction, regardless of what side they were supposed to be on. We quickly learned that the only way to cross the road was to take a deep breath, step down and hope they swerve to avoid you. I was freaking out. Ian of course was loving it.
One day in the city was enough and we promptly booked a trip to Ha long Bay, famous for its thousands of limestone outcrops jetting out of its waters. After a bus ride to the port, a group of us boarded a gorgeous antique looking sleeper ship. The scenery was incredible. We spent the day sailing through the infinite collage of tall thin rock formations that stretched right out to the horizon. We stopped to explore some mighty big caves and admire the ancient stalagmites and stalactites (I can never remember which is which). While the sun set, we set out in kayaks to explore the intricate maze of islands.
That evening our boat landed at Cat Ba Island and a group of us went out for some drinks and Vietnamese cuisine. Lets just say we were in for a real shock. Up until then, we kept seeing hard boiled eggs being sold with either the number 1, 2, or 3 written on it. What we discovered when one of the guys opened up his egg with a 3 on it was that the numbers represent the stage of the chicken foetus' development. The sight was extremely disturbing, to say the least. Typically, Ian couldn't help himself and felt the need to gross me out even more by actually eating it. I will never look at him the same way again.
The next morning we went for a hike/ rock climb (which we are very good at by now), then back on the boat in the afternoon for an evening of entertainment. A bunch of very cool American guys on our boat decided to string up some bed sheets across the top deck, recruit our Vietnamese tour guide, and put on a brilliant Shakespear style play for us all that left us falling off the deck chairs with hysterical laughter! Our surroundings at night were so beautiful. Our boat anchored in a small cove, and was surrounded on all sides by the enormous rock walls looming over us, the mist and the moon creating the most haunting atmosphere. As the whiskey set in the boys decided to abandon ship and one after the other dove off the roof into the phosphorescent waters. Oh, crazy boys. We slept on the boat that night and early the next morning set sail for the long ride back.
Once back in Hanoi, the serenity of the last three days instantly wore off. Blaring horns, swerving motorbikes, and screaming Vietnamese people shook us back into reality.....and shaken we were. That night after a nice dinner with the group from our boat, Ian dropped me off at our hotel, then headed off to meet the guys for a drink. As I sat in our room I had a very uneasy feeling, although I attributed it to the presence of the giant rat that ran out from under our bed, which I had to battle out the door. Really, that's just another way of saying, I jumped onto the bed screaming, while this rat ran circles around me until it eventually found the door.
In the meantime, out on the street, Ian was being surrounded by three men on motorbikes, who subsequently held him at knife point and demanded all his money. Now, I would love to say that Ian responded as Crocodile Dundee had, when faced with the same situation - look at them and say, "You call that a knife? Now THIS is a knife." Then pull his own butcher knife out of his pants, of course. Okay, so it didn't work out that way. Ian was forced to give them what he had, no questions asked. It was lucky he only had about $12 on him, which he calmly handed over. What absolutely shocked him next, however, was when he noticed a group of about ten police men only about ten meters away, watching it all happen and not doing a thing! Once the men left, Ian ran over to the police, but they pretended not to understand and responded with complete indifference. The whole situation was really scary, as we were left realizing how alone we really were. There was absolutely no protection for us in this country.
We decided to leave Hanoi as soon as we could, but the next bus available wasn't for another two days. Our plan the next day was to go to the famous Chi Minh Mausoleum and museum. Since his death, Ho Chi Minh, the beloved ex-president of Vietnam is viewed more like a God. When he died his final request was to be cremated, so in good ole Vietnamese fashion, they discarded his wishes and instead, embalmed his corpse and put it on display in a glass sarcophagus for the public. Hey, why not? After hours looking for the Mausoleum, we finally found it, but were denied access as it was closed because it was Friday. Who knows? We then went to the Ho Chi Minh Museum, only to pay, then after 20 minutes be told to get out because they were closing. Turns out the museums are only open from 8am- 11am on the days they actually ARE open. Sure....makes perfect sense. Sigh....
By now, we were beyond annoyed with this city. The next day we counted the hours until our bus left. The bus finally pulled up and being overloaded as usual, they had run out of room for the luggage. With complete disregard, the man threw Ian's huge pack onto my lap and began pounding it into me with the door when it wouldn't close! We were in disbelief at the blatant rudeness of nearly every Vietnamese person we'd encountered so far. Never had either of us been treated this way before, and this is a country trying to build their economy from tourism! It is no wonder that 95% of tourists who visit Vietnam never go back. So far this was the most difficult country that either of us had travelled.
We boarded a larger bus for the rest of the journey south. For the next few hours the bus driver, blaring his horn, swerved in and out of traffic on the narrow, bumpy roads, at break-neck speed. I don't know how we didn't hit something since all the other buses were doing the same thing. As the unwilling participants in game after game of road chicken, pretty much all the Westerners (all eight of us) thought we were going to die. It was so terrifying, it was impossible to sleep, although it was impossible anyway since Ian and I were confined to 1 1/2 seats, while the Vietnamese man beside me laid across three seats, hooked his arm over my arm rest and leaned up against me! I felt like screaming, "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?"
*Deeeeep Breath!* It HAS to get better than this....right?
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
The Road is Long,The Long Long Road, With Many Winding Turns...
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!
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!
Buses
Buses a fuss
All covered in rust
The roads we do lust
Except for the dust
Our progress a plus
But plans go a bust
In no one we trust
So cussing's a must
Back here on the bus
All covered in rust
The roads we do lust
Except for the dust
Our progress a plus
But plans go a bust
In no one we trust
So cussing's a must
Back here on the bus
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Four Thousand Islands
A last minute decision had us buying a bus ticket south. We decided we had wasted enough time and that backtracking would only be wasting more. Our original plan was to head back to Vang Vieng to wait out the four days until our Vietnam visa started. We had waited all day, checked out of our guesthouse, and paid our way to the bus station, only to find out that the bus they told us was leaving at 6 o'clock, actually left at 3 o'clock. Now I know what you're thinking. This was a simple mistake on our part. This is actually how it is for us every day here. It is impossible to trust anyone or anything. Complaining is only met with a blank stare and a shrug or a blatant laugh in your face. The frustration some days is indescribable. That day was one of them. Once we paid to get back into town, we found that nearly every guestroom, including the one we just checked out of were full. We ended up in the last two beds in a dorm on the rooftop of some dodgy hotel.
The next morning we arrived at the station to board the supposedly "swanky" VIP bus Ian and I decided was worth dishing out the extra cash for. Let me just say that a VIP bus ticket does not guarentee VIP treatment. Ian and I were shoved to the back of the bus, and somehow ended up with other peoples luggage piled at our feet for the entire ten hour trip. Typical.
We arrived in Pakse in the morning and were ushered onto another bus, ......another bus, and finally dropped off at the landing for the island of Don Khan. We were actually supposed to be going to Don KONG, so back onto another bus, and then a boat. Phew! We spent the day bicycle riding around the island, which was covered in beautiful little bamboo hut villages, with children running after us, screaming, "HELLO!!!!".
The next day we hired a boat and headed to another island, Don Det, a beautiful little tropical island resting on the Cambodian boarder. We spent four days on the island, sleeping in a little bamboo hut, complete with a porch with two hammocks, overlooking the Mekong river. Because Don Det is at the very bottom of Laos, not many travellers go there, making it a semi-secluded tropical paradise. Our first day there, we rented bicycles, crossed the bridge to the next island over, and found a tiny beach where we hired a local fisherman to take us to see some rare fresh water dolphins, of which only about 16 still exist. We hunkered down in the small narrow boat, sitting one in front of the other, the sides only inches above the water. It was amazing how expertly he manouvered us through the strong currents in this precarious little vessel! The dolphins put on a good show, then we headed back, stopping for a quick dip in the rapids, and a battle back to the shore!
That night as we entered our hut, a surprise awaited me. My advice would now be, when confronted with a giant cockroach sitting on your open bag, do not scream or make any sudden moves, because the safest, darkest place for that cockroach to go will be inside the bag, which is exactly where this one went. Ian and I spent the next hour on the porch shaking out each and every article in my bag. Shoes, toothpaste, and underwear all being hurled at the wall everytime I thought I'd located it. But in the end, of course we never did. The thought that it is still in there somewhere, and probably a female, still disturbes me greatly everytime I open my bag.
Our next two days were peaceful and relaxing. We went to see some beautiful waterfalls and Ian coerced a fisherman to take him out and teach him how to throw a net. Ian did exceptionally well considering these boats are about three feet wide and take considerable balance in order to just stand up in them, let alone throw a very large, very heavy fish net. I was very proud! (*sniff*) I don't think I have seen Ian happier. Picture the biggest grin you have ever seen on his face. Pretty sure a childhood dream has just come true.
Things move even slower than usual on this island, and in Laos, things move SLOWLY. We had to make sure to order our meals long before ever feeling hungry, as it takes about an hour for meals to make an appearance. When they finally arrive, they come one at a time in 15 minute intervals because rarely does a kitchen have more than one pot or pan. This also means you are rarely ever eating together and going out to dinner in a group takes a lot of patience. The kitchen usually forgets half the things you ordered so you are left to sit and wonder whether it is supposed to take two hours to make rice or if you should just give up on the hope of ever getting it. The best is when you are presented with something comepletely different from what you ordered or your meal just doesn't show up at all, simply because they ran out of whatever you ordered and didn't feel it necessary to tell you. This happens all the time. Without fail, one of us always finds some sort of insect has beaten us to our meal. A fly, a worm, a beetle. Since the locals actually eat these things anyway, when you call a waiter over to see what you have discovered in your soup, the typical reaction is a look that says, "So?". On Don Det, we had the added bonus of choosing restaurants with english menus, but waitstaff that could not speak or understand english. Quite a predicament. You say, "Chicken". They stare at you. You point to the menu. Blank stare and shrug. I think of any other way to communicate this. Since I can't draw to save my life, my chicken ends up looking like a giraffe, and that's when they start to walk away. I start yelling, "CHICKEN!, CHICKEN!", as if saying it louder will make them understand. It always comes down to that last resort where I am forced to reach deep down and find my inner chicken, inner fish, inner pig, and "Bawk", guppy lip or, "Oink", like a maniac. Tofu is a bit harder to impersonate. A glimmer of hope. Does she understand? Will I actually get my chicken? The waitress smiles, nods and walks away. After all the effort, I end up with a bowl of cabbage anyway because of course, they have run out of chicken.
After four wonderful days, reluctantly we boarded another boat to start our looooooong journey to Hanoi, in North Vietnam. We will miss you Laos! Our time has come once again to onward march!
The next morning we arrived at the station to board the supposedly "swanky" VIP bus Ian and I decided was worth dishing out the extra cash for. Let me just say that a VIP bus ticket does not guarentee VIP treatment. Ian and I were shoved to the back of the bus, and somehow ended up with other peoples luggage piled at our feet for the entire ten hour trip. Typical.
We arrived in Pakse in the morning and were ushered onto another bus, ......another bus, and finally dropped off at the landing for the island of Don Khan. We were actually supposed to be going to Don KONG, so back onto another bus, and then a boat. Phew! We spent the day bicycle riding around the island, which was covered in beautiful little bamboo hut villages, with children running after us, screaming, "HELLO!!!!".
The next day we hired a boat and headed to another island, Don Det, a beautiful little tropical island resting on the Cambodian boarder. We spent four days on the island, sleeping in a little bamboo hut, complete with a porch with two hammocks, overlooking the Mekong river. Because Don Det is at the very bottom of Laos, not many travellers go there, making it a semi-secluded tropical paradise. Our first day there, we rented bicycles, crossed the bridge to the next island over, and found a tiny beach where we hired a local fisherman to take us to see some rare fresh water dolphins, of which only about 16 still exist. We hunkered down in the small narrow boat, sitting one in front of the other, the sides only inches above the water. It was amazing how expertly he manouvered us through the strong currents in this precarious little vessel! The dolphins put on a good show, then we headed back, stopping for a quick dip in the rapids, and a battle back to the shore!
That night as we entered our hut, a surprise awaited me. My advice would now be, when confronted with a giant cockroach sitting on your open bag, do not scream or make any sudden moves, because the safest, darkest place for that cockroach to go will be inside the bag, which is exactly where this one went. Ian and I spent the next hour on the porch shaking out each and every article in my bag. Shoes, toothpaste, and underwear all being hurled at the wall everytime I thought I'd located it. But in the end, of course we never did. The thought that it is still in there somewhere, and probably a female, still disturbes me greatly everytime I open my bag.
Our next two days were peaceful and relaxing. We went to see some beautiful waterfalls and Ian coerced a fisherman to take him out and teach him how to throw a net. Ian did exceptionally well considering these boats are about three feet wide and take considerable balance in order to just stand up in them, let alone throw a very large, very heavy fish net. I was very proud! (*sniff*) I don't think I have seen Ian happier. Picture the biggest grin you have ever seen on his face. Pretty sure a childhood dream has just come true.
Things move even slower than usual on this island, and in Laos, things move SLOWLY. We had to make sure to order our meals long before ever feeling hungry, as it takes about an hour for meals to make an appearance. When they finally arrive, they come one at a time in 15 minute intervals because rarely does a kitchen have more than one pot or pan. This also means you are rarely ever eating together and going out to dinner in a group takes a lot of patience. The kitchen usually forgets half the things you ordered so you are left to sit and wonder whether it is supposed to take two hours to make rice or if you should just give up on the hope of ever getting it. The best is when you are presented with something comepletely different from what you ordered or your meal just doesn't show up at all, simply because they ran out of whatever you ordered and didn't feel it necessary to tell you. This happens all the time. Without fail, one of us always finds some sort of insect has beaten us to our meal. A fly, a worm, a beetle. Since the locals actually eat these things anyway, when you call a waiter over to see what you have discovered in your soup, the typical reaction is a look that says, "So?". On Don Det, we had the added bonus of choosing restaurants with english menus, but waitstaff that could not speak or understand english. Quite a predicament. You say, "Chicken". They stare at you. You point to the menu. Blank stare and shrug. I think of any other way to communicate this. Since I can't draw to save my life, my chicken ends up looking like a giraffe, and that's when they start to walk away. I start yelling, "CHICKEN!, CHICKEN!", as if saying it louder will make them understand. It always comes down to that last resort where I am forced to reach deep down and find my inner chicken, inner fish, inner pig, and "Bawk", guppy lip or, "Oink", like a maniac. Tofu is a bit harder to impersonate. A glimmer of hope. Does she understand? Will I actually get my chicken? The waitress smiles, nods and walks away. After all the effort, I end up with a bowl of cabbage anyway because of course, they have run out of chicken.
After four wonderful days, reluctantly we boarded another boat to start our looooooong journey to Hanoi, in North Vietnam. We will miss you Laos! Our time has come once again to onward march!
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