The general idea with tubing is that you make a day of it. There’s bars at certain parts of the shore where you can stop and have a beer. Many of these also have swings and flying foxes that you can fling yourself off into the water. Basically the you hold onto a padded piece of wood above your head which is attached to a cable. You launch yourself off a platform into the middle of the river, letting go and dropping into the water. These are great fun and you can drop from very high up on some of them. On one occasion I didn’t drop when I should have and went flying back towards the platform. The local in charge tried to grab me but couldn’t get a grip so I ended up swinging out again but didn’t have enough momentum left to make it to the place I was supposed to drop from. I’d have to drop in an area with more shallow water instead. You’d think I’d be crapping myself thinking I’d break my neck or something but it was actually all very calm. Every time I’d hover over the safest part to drop the local guy would yell ‘jump, jump!’ and after a couple of times I let go. I landed safely. Just a couple of metres away the water got really shallow and there were rocks so it was good timing!

Back in Vientiane later that afternoon we checked into a guesthouse and had dinner with a couple we’d met on the bus ride before calling it a night. The next morning we were flying to China at 6:30am so it was a 4am wake up. Ouch!

In Vang Vieng we stayed outside town on an organic farm. The room was very overpriced for what it was. The owner of the farm was called Mr. T. He was a very community orientated bloke who ran various projects to help local people including collecting money to help run a local school bus. So we didn’t mind coughing up the cash since we knew it was being put into good causes.

The was an English school in a village a few minutes walk away and we volunteered our time there one night. We sat in on a couple of lessons and helped the kids out with their exercises. There was a class for primary aged kids and another for seconday school kids. It was good fun and after class the kids came up to us and shook our hands and thanked us for coming saying “Thank you. See you tomorrow”.

The class was being run by an English girl and and an Aussie guy. They were staying on the farm too. We also met another , originally from Sydney, who was staying in a mud brick hut on the farm whilst writing a novel.

Here’s a shot of her hut.

The next day we decided to volunteer to do some work on the farm. We spent a couple of hours weeding a lettuce patch before the heat of the sun took its toll. We spent most of the rest of the day reading in the farm’s restaurant or swimming in the river which boarded the farm. In the late afternoon we helped sort silk worm cocoons in another part of the farm before Peach realised she was allergic to them and started sneezing.

The main road in the town was a dirt track made muddy by the recent rains.

We checked into some bungalows where Tess had been staying for a few days. We hadn’t seen her since Luang Prabang. With the great views and relaxed atmosphere I could easily have spent a few days lazing around on Don Det. But it wasn’t to be. Nicola had had it with the insects that were constantly bothering and biting her on all sorts of body parts so she and Chris decided that they’d move on to Cambodia the next day. In Nicola’s defence the number of insects that would hover around restuarant lights in the evenings in the south of Laos was insane. You couldn’t drink a beer without a couple of insects going for a swim in it. Every few seconds you’d have to shoo some away from you. Insects don’t particularly bother me and I rarely get bitten by mites or mozzies. In general I just put up with them. My policy with insects, as with most things, is that since they can’t harm me then there’s no point getting stressed about them. Unfortunately Nicola didn’t feel the same way. She hated the bugs and freaked out whenever they touched her. The bugs knew this so they gave her more attention that anyone else. She and Chris were often suffering from bites. Sometimes Nicola’s own hair would freak her out since she’d mistake it for some kind of bug. Hahaha. Nothing I said seemed to help. It was really very funny to watch her trying to deal with the bug onslaught though. The last straw for Nicola came not long after we’d arrived on Don Det and a daring ant bit her private parts. This was quickly referred to as a “mingery”.

Peach and I decided to leave the next morning too. Our time was running out so we decided to head back to Vientiane and fly to China rather than head back up north and enter China overland. Time was of the essence.

One of the last things we did with Chris and Nicola was write a song. We scribbled down all the sayings that travellers often hear from locals whilst in SE Asia and strung them together into a tune. We called it “Kop Jai Li Li” which means “thank you very much” in Laos. We’d been talking about writing a song ever since the party in Tadlo when we’d arrived back to our guesthouse from dinner and the locals were singing karaoke. One of them handed me the microphone and I sang the only Laotian words I could think of along with the melody – which happened to be “Kop Jai Li Li”. Since then singing those words had become a regular thing between the 4 of us so we wanted to expand it into a song. I came up with a simple chord progression for the music and over dinner we scribbled down all the sayings we could think of to use as lyrics.

When we got back to our bungalows the insects had invaded our porches so we headed into Chris and Nicola’s bungalow and gave our new tune a couple of run throughs. It worked a treat. We all found it very funny and were extremely proud of ourselves. I think Nicola might have recorded a version on their camera so with any luck it’ll end up on YouTube.

Early the next morning we said our goodbyes to Chris and Nicola as they headed off to Cambodia. It was sad to say goodbye to them. We bonded really well during our time together and know that we’ll remain in contact. In fact just a couple of days ago they were passing through Melbourne and went to our friends pub for a meal. I got to talk to them on the phone there and it was great to talk to them again. They’re off to make a new life for themselves in NZ now. To Chris and Nicola I have only one thing to say: “Kop Jai Li Li”!!

When we finally found a place to stay that suited everyone’s needs I was in agony from carrying my pack for so long. A shower and too much tiger balm had me feeling a little better. We all grabbed dinner before going for a walk to see what else the village offered. In true Laos style there was jack all happening so we hit the sack. It was only about 8:30pm.

The next day before I awoke Peach had gotten up and decided we were moving hotels. Apparently our room was haunted or something. Whatever. So we ended up at Mr. Pon’s which is where Chris and Nicola were staying.

We thought it would be fun to hire pushbikes and go for a ride. We found out that there was only one real main road and it did a circuit of the island. Apparently it was 35km around. For some reason this didn’t bother us and we headed off in good spirits. I don’t think any of us thought we’d actually do a full circuit of the island. I think we expected there to be a short cut back. But there wasn’t.

We set off ill prepared for such a long ride. Since it looked like it might rain Peach & I left most of our stuff behind since we didn’t want it to get wet. All we had was our wallets and some water. Chris and Nicola had a bit more stuff but not much. Luckily they had sunscreen but it was nearly empty so there wasn’t enough to last the whole ride. So we all got a little sun burnt, Peach and Nicola particularly so. The weather alternated between rain and sun. The bikes we hired were simple single geared units that were quite pleasant for a meandering ride but no much chop for much more. During the ride we were never really sure of how far we’d gone or how much longer there was to go.

Despite the distance and the temprimental weather we had a good time to begin with. There were many houses and farms that we passed and the locals, especially the kids, would wave and yell hello to us as we went past. About 2/3 of the way through we came to a little village and decided to stop for a drink. Peach also bought her and I a bamboo hat to help protect from the sun and/or rain. We were all very hungry by this stage but decided to keep moving.

Stopping for those few minutes turned out to be the worst thing to do. Afterwards the girls really struggled to get the energy to keep going. As we left the village Peach threw a tanty when she couldn’t get her hat to stay on properly. She was also convinced we were lost. At the village the road forked. We know one road would continue to hug the shore and eventually get us back home but two different locals we asked told us the other road was the best route. Peach was convinced we were cutting back across the island instead of heading for home. This combined with her lack of energy meant it was all tanty systems go! For much of the rest of the ride we’d split from Chris and Nicola. I spent the ride trying to coach Peach whilst Chris did the same with Nicola. At one point Peach threw her bike on the ground and sat with her head in her hands on the side of the road. I lost my temper (which is an extreme rarity!). As I saw it we may as well keep riding rather than sitting on the side of the road in the pouring rain especially since last time we stopped to rest it did more harm than good. Peach got back on the bike eventually but it was a snails pace for the rest of the way.

Some way further down the road I recognised a cell tower that I’d seen in the town and letting Peach know this landmark was on the horizon provided some comfort that we were heading in the correct direction after all. Despite this she again collapsed. This time it was out the front of a house. Local villagers saw her and came over to see what the problem was. There was probably 15 or so people standing around in the rain as I tried to explain that she was OK but very tired from the ride. An old man who was one of the first on the scene called out to a girl who fetched some leaves which he crumbled up. He indicated Peach should smell the leaves so she did. One man spoke some English and he told me that we were only 1km from our guesthouse. After a few minutes Peach got back on the bike and after thanking everyone profusely we were on our way again.

Shortly thereafter we arrived at Mr. Pon’s. Chris and Nicola arrived a few minutes later. We were all pretty buggered and for the second night running we were in bed before 9pm.

We got to the bus station to catch the 2pm bus. When we got there we found out the bus was actually a large pickup truck with bench seats in the back which was packed with people and produce. I’ll take a guess and say there were probably 20 people in the back including us. Peach, Chris and Nicola got a seat on a bench inside but I picked a spot at the back on some rice bags that were tied to the bumper. All was well at first until I realised there was a basket of freshly caught fish tied to the roof and that fishy liquid was dripping on me. No problem. With a bit of adjustment I was able to avoid the dripping and still dangle my legs out the back of the vehicle. As we took off I pumped Jimi Hendrix on my ipod. It was the perfect soundtrack. As ‘All Along The Watchtower’ started I thought of that great scene from the movie ‘Whitnail & I’ where it’s playing as they head off on their road trip. I spent the whole 2.5 hours or so of the trip looking out the back and grooving to tunes. The lush tropical greenery reminded me of Vietnam war movies and TV shows like ‘Tour of Duty’. It was probably my favourite journey of the trip so far.

Here’s a shot of the inside of the truck we were in.

Here’s the truck after we’d gotten off it. The basket at the back is the one that was dripping on me.

This was my view for most of the ride.

On one day we went on a tour of the local area with one of the restuarant owners, Jom. The tour was pretty boring which was a shame since we all really like Jom. We did get to see a plantation with pineapple, coffee and other fruits but none of it was in season which detracted from the experience. We visited a village that produce a lot of amazing weaved fabrics – they looked great and it was interesting to see how they were made but at the same time they were trying to do a hard sell which I didn’t care for.

Here’s a pic of one of the houses in the village.

We visited a local market. Being a big market fan I loved it. There were all sorts of creatures for sale as food. Frogs, eels, bugs etc… Jom offered to take us to another market where we could buy a snake and he’d cook it for us that evening. Usually I would have jumped at the chance. I’ve always wanted to ‘eat the snake’. I didn’t go for it though. I reckon I’ve got to do it in a proper restaurant where it’s on the menu and I can eat its still beating heart and drink its blood. Hmmm…

We visited a waterfall that was much higher up than the one where we were staying however it was much less impressive since a power station that had been built near by diverted most of the water away from the falls. The views were tremendous though. By this time it started raining. We were sitting in the back of Jom’s pickup and it had no roof. The others decided to tough it out in the back but I jumped in the front. Darren was already in there and we were all a bit miffed that he didn’t offer his seat to the girls. Pretty soon it was bucketing down so we called the tour off and headed back to our bungalows.

A few minutes later we were in the sleepy tiny village of Tadlo. After looking around for a place to stay we all ended up settling a lovely place with bungalows set in the forest. The restaurant run by the bungalow owners had a great view of the amazing local waterfalls. See the picture below.

After grabbing some food we all retitred for a a nap. A few hours later I woke up and forced myself outside. I can’t remember being so lethargic ever. The others were still sleeping so I headed down to the restaurant to find there was a party going with a bunch of locals since it was a holiday for Buddhas birthday. A huge P.A. was set up along with a synthesizer and some microphones. There were 20-40 locals sitting on long tables eating and drinking and having a great time listening to each other sing karaoke. They weren’t serving food to guest though so I set off to another guesthouse to get some food.

Later on everyone else awoke and we went out for more food together. On the way back the party was still going and by this stage the locals were all well and truly drunk and dancing around to latin tunes they were pumping out of the P.A. system. Chris and I grabbed a couple of Beer Lao’s and we all hit the dancefloor. We soon got our groove on and we were the hit of the party. It was so surreal partying with these locals, dancing to latin music, with amazing waterfalls as a backdrop. We couldn’t believe we were here and had a laugh that just 24 hours ago we were probably just getting on the bus in Vientiane.

After lots of to-ing and fro-ing we decided to continue heading south towards the famed 4,000 islands. Then if we had time we’d head back up north later on and check out the parts we missed before overlanding it into China. The main reason I never tried to make plans on this trip was because things always changed. This time was no different – as you’ll discover in future posts.

We got our passports back at about 4pm on Tuesday and were booked on an overnight bus to Pakse, the main hub of the south, 4 hours later. Not soon enough. We were supposed to be picked up at our hotel at 8pm. By this time on the trip we expected some kind of drama everytime we had to catch a bus. Almost as if scripted our pick up time came and went. Peach dashed down to the agent who we booked our tickets through a couple of times and he assured us everything would be ok, he called the driver and there’d been some mistake. Sure. Whatever.

Eventually a tuk-tuk big enough to fit about 10 people showed up to take us to the bus station. The bus was due to leave in 15 minutes and we were 30 minutes away. The tuk-tuk was almost full and the people inside it informed us that the driver had done about 3 laps of the city picking people up.

There was one particularly funny English guy sittng across from us. As the ride dragged on we got talking about how we’d hoped to go trekking up north but had to come to Vientiane instead. This guy’s response was “Well, you know, trekking. It’s a lot like bum sex isn’t it?” Everyone in the tuk-tuk just stared at him, shortly followed by bursts of laughter. What a random comment? He went on to explain that he felt that some people try bum sex and really like it, and for other people it’s not for them. He and his wife had been on a horror trek in Thailand and decided trekking wasn’t for them. I didn’t know who this guy was but I got a kick out of his perspective. Plus he was piss funny. I didn’t know it then but we’d end up spending the next week or so travelling together and I can honestly say they were our favourites in terms of all the friends we made in Asia, and there was some quality competition!

The guy in question was Chris and his lovely wife was Nicola. They were both English and travelling through Asia on their way to settling in NZ. As luck would have it they sat behind us on the bus to Pakse. We continued our conversation there and quickly discovered some remarkable similarities between Chris and I and Peach and Nicola. It was as if we were a mirror couple.

When we reached Pakse in the morning we parted ways only to be reunited some minutes later as we ended up on the same tuk-tuk. Peach and I had heard Pakse was just as shit as Vientiane so our plan was to head across town to another bus station where we’d get another bus 4 hours to a tiny place called Tadlo which we’d heard great things about. Chris and Nicola were going to stay in Pakse for the night and then continue heading south. We managed to convince them to come with us though and we all ended up at the other bus station.

The bus station was a large dusty area with some shonky looking restaurants and food sellers. We had an hour or so to kill until our bus so I grabbed a noodle soup. The others weren’t so keen on the look of the hygeine. They had bananas instead.

Luckily I’d managed to sleep quite well on the bus – the VIP buses in Laos were even more luxurious than the ones in Thailand. As a result I didn’t mind the next 4 hour bus ride to Tadlo on a rattling, unairconditioned public bus. After a ride through some beautiful scenary the bus dropped us on a corner in the middle of nowhere. Apparently Tadlo was a couple of kilometres walk away.

The bus ride was fairly uneventful and when we got back to Luang Prabang we checked into a hotel then headed off in search of the international clinic. When we got to the clinic I spoke to the nurse on duty and although there were some problems with language I managed to discover that since it was a Saturday all the doctors weren’t working. They’d be back on Monday. Given this why was the clinic even open? This I was not able to determine. I was able to find out that if I required a CAT scan I’d need to go to Vientiane.

So the options were:
1) Hang out in Luang Prabang, which was lovely but we’d already seen, until Monday. See a doctor and take it from there.
2) Save time and head straight to Vientiane. We had to go there eventually to get our visas for China. At least then if there was something seriously wrong with me they had better facilities.
3) Screw medical attention. Tough it out and head back up north.

I really didn’t want to hang out in Luang Prabang. So we saw a travel agent about options for getting to Vientiane. As it turned out we could catch a flight there in a couple of hours. Faced with an overnight bus trip with a throbbing head or a 45 minute flight it was an easy decision: fly.

In Vientiane a few hours later I realised why so many people had told me to avoid it if I could. It’s a shithole. It’s dusty, noisy and ugly. To its credit Vientiane probably had the best food I had in all of Laos.

After checking into a hotel we got a tuk-tuk through the dusty streets to the main hospital a few km’s out of the centre of town. Just before we got their out tuk-tuk broke down, haha! So we had to hoof it the last few hundred metres. Gold.

At the hospital a doctor asked me a bunch of questions and said I’d be better of going to the international clinic. Ok. the tuk-tuk was back in action so we headed back to the centre of town just a few hundred metres up the road from our hotel to the international clinic. By this time it was probably after 9pm. I was too late to be consulted by a doctor but I could see one the next day, Sunday. If needed I could get a CAT scan on Monday.

It was time for dinner. There was a great Indian place near our hotel and we ate a bucketload. I hadn’t had Indian for ages so I was loving it. I should probably mention that despite many days of pain I actually didn’t think anything serious was wrong. Call it my enduring cock-eyed optimism or plain stupidity. You decide.

The next day, surprise, surprise, my headache was still there. Before going back to the hospital I went to an internet cafe and did a spot of self-diagnosis. According to the wisdom of the internet since I wasn’t having seizures, vomitting or experiencing blurred vision I probably had nothing to worry about. I also found out that there’s loads of people that live with constant headaches for years at a time. There’s no way I was going to be having any of that.

At the clinic I saw a doctor. I was invited into the consultation room whilst he was still finishing up with another patient. Maybe he felt the language barrier meant that there’d be no doctor-patient confidentiality issues. When the other patient had gone he asked me a series of questions, mostly the same ones the doctor in the hospital had asked me the night before. Coincidently they were also aimed at determining if I had any of the symptons the internet had warned about.

He got out his tools and did a bunch of tests. Blood pressure, breathing, eyes, ears, throat etc… Then he pronounced that the cause of my headache was an infected throat. What was most surprising about this was that my throat hadn’t been sore once in the last few days. Hmmm. I mentioned this and he didn’t seem to think it was a problem. Apparently it was probably causing me mild discomfort but I hadn’t noticed. Apparently I’d probably also had a mild fever at times too. That was a bit more likely but I’m still not sure. Anyway, the good doctor subscribed me a heap of drugs. Antibiotics. Made sense. Antihistamines. Dunno about that. Paracetamol – enough to take one dose every 4 hours for a fortnight. Crikey!

Within a couple of days I was feeling heaps better and after a few days I was back to normal. So mabye the good doctor was on a winner. Regardless of what he thought there was no way I was dosing up on paracetamol every few hours for a couple of weeks. So I ignored that piece of advice. In fact I’ve still got some of the paracetamol left today.

Nom Kheow is a very small village up in the mountains of northern Laos. It’s set in a valley with a river running through it and is surrounded by mountainous peaks. There’s just a small handful of places to stay – mostly bungalows along the river. The view from our bungalow in the mornings was incredible – a massive mountain with mist around it and the river in the foreground. There were hardly any other tourists around and there wasn’t much to do but kick back and relax. I had no problem with that.

Here’s a shot from the porch of our bungalow.

One thing that was causing me a problem though was a nagging headache that didn’t seem to be going away. By the time I got to Nom Kheow I’d had a headache non-stop for about a day and a half. I had been dosing up on pain killers but they didn’t seem to be having any effect. Peach blamed the Laos whiskey that I’d taken to having shots of at regular points throughout the day in Luang Prabang. I didn’t know what it was. It was a good thing there wasn’t much to do in Nom Kheow because with my throbbing head I didn’t feel like doing much.

The next day the headache was still there. I decided to stop taking pain killers and tough it out. At 4pm that day Peach had a job interview for a position in London. She’d sent her CV off on a whim a few days earlier for an entirely different role and the company had asked her to interview for a much better role that would have been a great step for her career. Having not had to think about work for so long Peach was very nervous. To try and help this we’d spent much of the previous evening going over the job description, anticipating potential questions and formulating appropriate answers.

There were only 2 internet connections in town but unfortunately these were dialup connections so doing the interview via Skype wasn’t an option. We sussed out that there were only 2 phone lines in the town capable of making international phone calls. Early in the morning the power went out. This meant the phone lines were down too. As the day ticked on the power didn’t come back on and the locals we asked had no idea when it would come on either. We had to come up with a contingency.

We thought of buying a mobile phone from the one guy in town that had a few old models for sale. We also thought of catching a bus back to Luang Prabang. Eventually we arranged to borrow a mobile phone from a girl that worked at a restaurant we’d eaten at a couple of times. It was a prepaid phone and we had no idea how much international call rates would be so we played it safe and loaded it up with $US25 worth of credit. After a successful test call to Australia to make sure it could make overseas calls we were set to go. All this time we were also trying to figure out how Peach would actually get to London to start the job, assuming she got it, since they’d indicated they wanted someone asap and we were in a remote location 4 hours from the nearest main town. I’ve managed to sum up this contingency in a few lines but let me assure you it took a good couple of hours or more and all the time my head was still aching.

By the time it came for Peach to make the phone call to the company in London I was in agony so I crawled back to the bungalow to lay down whilst she went to a bungalow attached to the restaurant to go over her notes one last time before making the call. I noticed as the clock hit 4pm that the power came back on – not that it was any use to us now!

I was surprised when Peach came back to the bungalow 20 minutes later. It turns out that despite all out planning we’d converted the time in London incorrectly – we didn’t thing to consider that the UK had adjusted to summer time. Bugger! It turns out the person who was to be interviewing Peach was in another interview. The receptionist told her to call back in an hour and try her luck then.

Finally the interview did take place but Peach didn’t think it went to well and she didn’t end up getting the role. On the positive side though she now had a revamped CV and lots of interview preparation material that could be used next time. Also we had a great adventure figuring out how to make the phone call in the first place. When we gave the phone back to the local girl it still had the best part of $US20 on it – this was a small fortune in Laos. The smile on her face was priceless. So despite I gave the experience a big tick.

The next day Dan & I went on a morning tour of a nearby cave that supposedly houses 4000 Buddhas. It was crap. Certainly not worth wasting half a day on at any rate. Although I did buy some local whiskey, called lao-lao, made from sticky rice at a village we stopped at on the way. It’s the sort of stuff that warms your innards whilst relieving you of your stomach lining. I knocked back several shots of it a day whilst I had it.

In the afternoon all four of us went to some waterfalls that were easily the best I’ve seen. The water was a beautiful aqua color and there were several waterfalls that you could check out within a few seconds or minutes walk depending on how far you wanted to go.

When we got back late in the arvo I had a nap and didn’t wake up until 9pm. Peach was asleep so I headed out alone to check out the night market and grab a bite to eat. Whilst strolling around I bumped into an Argentinian who I’d met on the slow boat and he invited me down to the river later to drink whiskey with a couple of other guys from the boat. After a delicious bowl of noodle soup with what looked like Bolognese sauce in it I headed down to the river and found them.

There was myself, the Argentinian (Luis), a Frenchman (Kevin) and a Chilean who’s name I can’t recall sitting at a table near the river enjoying a few whiskey & cokes and shooting the breeze. When we finished the bottle the guys asked me if I wanted to “cruise” with them. I assumed this meant hit the town. We decided to head to the one place in town that was open after 11:30pm – the bowling alley. We got a tuk-tuk there since it was a few k’s from the centre of town. When we walked in there was only a few people there. Within a couple of minutes though 30-50 more people ploughed through the doors. The bars must have just closed.

The bowling alley was a surreal experience to say the least. There was loads of pissed tourists plus a few locals pushing dope and opium – which was being smoked in the toilet. Heaps of people from the slow boat were there too. My whiskey buddies and I bowled a game then we mingled about the crowd – people outnumbered bowling capacity so most just stood around drinking. Dan and Tess had shown up too. Dan and I got stuck into each other about our respective cricket teams and placed bets about the next Ashes tour in England.

About 2:30am I was getting tired and a few people were leaving so I decided to join them. We beat a tuk-tuk driver down to a ridiculous price by threatening to walk all the way back to town and convincing him there was no one else left in the bowling alley and amazingly he caved.

In fact the boat was even more jammed with people than the previous day. This time we had 9 hours to spend on the boat and it looked like I’d have to stand outside the toilet door the entire trip. The other option was cramming in with some others in the engine room – which stank of fumes, was boiling hot and very loud. Every other spot on the boat was taken. There were people standing in the aisles and others crouched under other peoples seats.

It looked like shaping up to be a torturous day when word filtered down that for nearly double the cost of the slow boat ride one could jump ship and get on a speed boat far less people that arrived in Luang Prabang in just 3 hours! I was keen to jump ship. I leapt out a window, scrambled across the boat next to us and on to the shore to check out the situation.

It turns out it wasn’t a speed boat but another slow boat. However, this boat had only 20 or so people on it and it had very nice looking leather seats. Much better than the wooden benches or hard floor on the other boat. Also the price was only slightly higher than the original boat. The catch was that even if the ticket inspector had already collected money for the first boat you still had to pay again. The tickets weren’t transferable and I’d already paid for mine. Those that hadn’t already paid for tickets happily left for the other boat without a second thought. I um’d and ah’d for a while and eventually decided to stay put. The minor exodus of people to the other boat left quite a bit of space free at the front of the boat (well away from the engine room and toilet) so I ended up with a pretty good spot similar to the day before. I sat on a bag of rice for most of the way. It was a better ride than the day before. Several of the people around me I’d met the day previous so there was plenty of conversation, in between reading and ipod action, to while away the day.

When we got to Luang Prabang I was immediately struck by its beauty. Loads of lovely French colonial buildings. Rather than follow a tout we set off on foot to find a place to stay. The night before we’d lacked all the creature comforts so the girls were looking for a ‘nice’ (read: plush) place to stay. Tess was going to share a room with a young English guy called Dan who we’d met along the way.

After trudging around for ages Dan & I waited outside one guesthouse while the girls went off to check out more rooms. After a while they returned and had found a place. So we set off again with our bags. A few metres up the road Dan & I were stopped by some travellers who were asking about the boat ride – since they were thinking of doing it the opposite direction to Thailand. The girls didn’t noticed we’d stopped and kept going. Dan & I had no idea where they went or where we were supposed to be staying. We assumed it would be along the river somewhere so we just kept walking and walking and….walking. After a kilometre or more we turned back reasoning that there’s no way it would be this far. Our bags felt like a tonne by this time so we left them with a guesthouse owner while we set off to find the girls.

Eventually Peach rode past on a push bike. Apparently the place we were staying was just around the corner from where the other travellers stopped us. Bugger! So with aching backs we collected our bags and walked back to our ‘nice’ rooms. Immediately I jumped in the shower to cool off. Then I got Peach to rub some tiger balm on my back – too much was applied though and it felt like my skin was melting – ouch!! After a few minutes the pain subsided and my back felt much better.

The bus ride was pretty uneventful. Peach and Tess had spent our last night in Chiang Mai getting wasted at the reggae bar while I had an early one. They were in a world of pain for the entire bus ride. Ha Ha!

The Thai border town, Chiang Khong was just what you’d expect from a town that people only stop at because they have to – boring. So it was a fairly early night.

The next morning we caught a pick up a few hundred metres to the Thai Immigration point. After passing through we go a small boat across the river to Laos. At the Laos immigration point we filled out some forms and paid the officers a compulsory “overtime” charge for working on a Saturday. Next we hauled our gear up the street and and around the corner to a cafe where we were given some local currency to buy our boat tickets for the next two days. Next it was on to a pick-up truck and off to the pier where we signed in and bought our tickets before we finally got on the boat. The whole process took about an hour.

At the guesthouse in Chiang Khong they were selling cushions for use on the boat. We’d heard the seats weren’t that comfortable and this didn’t bode well. We got a cushion each – without a doubt once of the best investments of the trip. We should have got two.

The boat was jam packed full of people. There was probably 150-200 people on the boat – very much over capacity. There was no food on board but they sold beer. Everyone shared a single toilet. Hmmm lots of beer for sale, one toilet. I did the maths on that and resolved to stay sober. By the time we got on any chance of getting a seat was long gone. Luckily there was a flat wooden floored section up the front. I managed to get a spot there up against the side of the boat so I had a back rest too. By the time we were on our way there was hardly any room to move – but there was enough to make the odd adjustment and throughout the 8 hour journey it go roomier as people moved around the boat (although I’m not sure how it worked out this way).

Here’s a pic of the people on the boat.

Some people were bitching and moaning about the conditions on the boat but others were making the most of it. Plenty of people got stuck into the beers and a few others had guitars so there was plenty of merriment and singing. After a little while a party atmosphere developed and I ended up meeting loads of people that I’d see over and over during my time in Laos.

The first night in Laos we stopped at a town called Pak Beng. This was another town that didn’t really have anything going for it except that people passed through. There were plenty of locals ready to supply fresh tourists with dope and opium as well – not quiet the same fake designer gear I’d been used to in Thailand. I declined all offers. I noticed that some of those locals selling opium looked very pasty and clammy.

During dinner I had my first Beer Lao in Laos. I’d been looking forward to it since trying it in Cambodia a couple of years earlier. It’s a great beer but I actually have to rate Myanmar Draught higher. Plus Myanmar Draught was on tap whereas most other South-East Asian beers tend to be sold in bottles the vast majority of the time. Still I’m a huge fan of Beer Lao.

To be continued….

The doors on most public buses are always open in Thailand. This allows people to get on and off quickly and also provides natural air conditioning. Every now and again throughout the 3 or 4 hour bus ride water would come splashing though the door. Eventually the doors were closed but still some would get in.

Originally Peach was going to go to Pai by herself but I ended up tagging along. We have a deal when travelling that one person can go off and do their own thing when ever they like. That way no one has to compromise much on places we go. Early in the trip I was off by myself while the girls were on the Thai Gold Coast. Then at one point later on we were all in different places at once. This time I thought I’d give Peach some space so we stayed at different places. It didn’t really work out as planned though since we ended up spending most of the time together anyway.

In Pai I found a lovely place to stay – a set of very basic bamboo bungalows on the river bank. Just a matress, a mozzie net and a light are supplied. I had a hammock on my porch too which is always a winner. After a quick trip to a local store to buy some supplies I spent the rest of the day chilling out in my hammock or down by the river bank.

First impressions of Pai were very positive. It’s kind of a groovy little town with just a couple of main roads. There’s a very relaxed vibe. It’s the kind of place I can imagine Westerners would drop out and come to live.

On the first evening in Pai I bumped into Peach at an Indian restaurant. She’d scored a great place to stay, similar to mine but much more uber. She even had a computer in her bungalow with free internet access.

The next day we hired a motorbike and headed towards some natural springs nearby. Unfortunately the admission price was a rip off so we found a resort up the road that charged 90% less and had pumped the same spring water into several pools in their grounds. The pools were bloody hot though so after a few minutes we had to sit with most of our bodies out of the water.

After a nice lunch at the resort we headed back into town to the tourist office and got directions to some waterfalls we’d heard about. Songkran was still on although not with as much force as it was in Chiang Mai. Still every few hundred metres we’d get water thrown at us and we progressively got wetter and wetter. It wasn’t a particularly warm day so with the wind from riding the motorbike and our wet clothes we were pretty cold as we zoomed along the road.

Peach was trying her hardest to put on a brave face eventually it got too much, she was freezing cold. We turned around and headed back to the bungalow to a hot shower – coping several more doses of cold water on the way. By this stage I was getting a bit over all the water throwing too but still gave a laugh whenever we got hit – after all it’s an important national festival and who am I to poo-poo the fun.

The next day was supposed to be the last day of Songkran and although most people went back to their normal routine there were still a few people getting into it. In response we slipped into a relaxing routine for the next couple of days. We’d potter around in the mornings doing our own thing then in the afternoon we’d head up to a local pool/gym/bar which had seen better days but was a fun place to hang out. It was run by an stunning English girl and her Thai husband. Peach loved the girl’s accent and declared her intentions to develop the same one once we got to the UK.

I decided to do a work out at the gym. It reminded me of the kind of place someone would train at in the movies – you know the kind: where some guy’s family gets killed so he goes off, finds a master to train him, lives in some remote place and buffs up before coming back at the end and taking revenge. Or did I just watch too many crap movies as a kid? Hmmm…

After 4 nights in Pai it was time to head back to Chiang Mai. The original plan was to head back to Chiang Mai, stay the night then head off on a 3 day bus/boat trip to Laos. When I called our travel agent mate, Tom, he couldn’t get us on to the boat until the day after meaning we’d have to spend another day in Chiang Mai. Not the best scenario since we’d already spent so much time there but it did give us a chance to knock a few things off the to-do list.

Chiang Mai has an old moat around the inner part of the city that’s still got water in it. There are main roads on both sides of it. A typical day runs like this: People line either side of the the moat and the main streets armed with water pistols, super soakers, buckets and water else they can get their hands on. Then they proceed to drench anyone that walks, rides or drives past. No one is spared. Those on the moat side of the road If you aren’t on the side of the road use the moat to refill their ammunition, those on the other side have hoses coming out of shops, restaurants and bars constantly filling up large drums to give them ample water supplies.

Meanwhile those that are driving around in traffic aren’t to be out done. Pickup trucks are the main type of car on the road in these parts and these will usually have 5-12 people in the back along with a full drum of water and the necessary arms to dish out their own attacks.

Traffic crawls around the moat while everyone blasts each other with water – all with a smile and good spirits. The bars open early and pump music out onto the street and Thais and tourists dance, drink and get soaked together having a great time of it. It’s not just for kids either. There were entire families getting into it and plenty of people over 50 giving as good as they got. The more enterprising people were buying huge blocks of ice off the street and putting them in their drums. This made the water ice cold. I gotta tell you I’d prefer to be blasted with manky but warm moat water over a bucket of iced tap water any day. Especially when it was flying out of the back of a pickup and smacking into your back – that bloody hurts! Brrrr!

The water fights aren’t confined to the main streets. It doesn’t matter where you go you’re bound to get soaked from head to toe and stay that way until you go home to change. We were staying just inside the moated area about 100m from the main road. Kids lay in ambush all around. I was always soaked within seconds of leaving the guesthouse. The only time it’s safe to walk the streets is before 10am or after 6pm when the sun starts going down. Any other time and you’re a target. As a result I’ve got no photos since the camera would have been wrecked. Some brave souls had their cameras out anyway. Check their photos here.

If you can’t beat them join them. I stocked up with a 1.8 litre super soaker, a half litre hand gun and a small bucket and hit the streets. One of my favourite moments was when we were standing out the front of a nice hotel having a war with the people across the road next to the moat. This part of the street was blocked to traffic but a bus load of people had to get through to drop people at the hotel. At first we formed a blockade and soaked the bus. Then we let it through. It parked out the front of the hotel entrance and the poor bastards inside had a 20 metre dash from the bus door to the inside of the hotel where staff were waiting for them with fresh towels. Ha Ha!! We formed a guard of honour that the tourists could dash along. Those that couldn’t get right up close were perched in readiness wherever they could position them selves to get a good shot. Turns out the bus was full of westerners in their 50s and 60s. They had no idea what they’d gotten themselves into. As each one took it in turns to leave the bus the hundred or so people taking aim would unload on them so that they were absolutely drenched by the time they got inside. It was gold!

I wasn’t always on the attacking side though. One day Peach and I took a large tuk-tuk up a mountain nearby to check out a temple there. The one we got was lucky enough to have closed sides but unfortunately it had an open back. The traffic was a nightmare so we’d often be in gridlock when someone would run out behind the tuk-tuk and throw a bucket of water in at us. My attempts at defense with my super soaker where hopeless under such incursions. After artfully dodging a couple of buckets with minimal impact one got me front on. As expected I got soaked. From then on it was a no fear situation and I regularly hung out the back of the vehicle and unloaded on anyone within range.

Long live Songkran!

First thing we did was head down to the local market and buy the ingredients.

There were two menus, of 5 courses each, that you could choose to cook. We chose one each – that way we got to sample everything on offer

I liked Peach’s panang curry and chicken with cashew nuts best so I’ve already started hinting that she’s welcome to take on more of the cooking duties. We’ll see on that one. In fact writing this reminds me to bring her up on it.

Here’s a pics of some of the dishes. Despite the threat of bird flu breaking out every dish we cooked had chicken in it. Bird flu? What bird flu?

A couple of days later I woke up feeling really average. I was sick. Boo! I reckon it was from a curry I ate late one night on the way home from the Reggae bar that had become a regular hang out but there’s every chance I ate something dodgey at the market. Noooo!! I struggled out of bed for an hour or two in the morning in an bold defiant effort. No good though. Soon I was back in bed and that’s pretty much where I stayed for the next three days.

For the first day of being sick I lay in bed as the odd fever would come and go. Whenever the fever came I felt like vomitting but I hate puking and I’ve only done it once due to illness in my adult life and I can probably count on one hand the amount of times I’ve done so from being drunk. I prefer to let the room spin than have a chunder. But every time this fever came on I knew my body wanted me to hurl. When I was alone I was able to focus and fight it off but later on in the evening Peach and Tess were in the room chatting in the middle of a fever attack. The noise of them talking was making me feel even sicker and I couldn’t concentrate at all. Next thing I knew I was dashing for the bin by the door and up it all came. Bugger! The room must have stunk cuz there was loads of it coming out. Always putting others first I unlocked the door and flung it open. Tess bolted out of the room. Peach stay to lend support before heading off to get a new bag for the bin. I’ve gotta brag here. My aim was spot on. There may have been one tiny splash on the floor and that was it. Immediately I felt better for a little while before the crapness started again. After another hurl later on and plenty of trips to the loo I was well and truly over it.

After 3 days I was sick (pardon the pun) of being couped up in the room so Peach and I signed up for a cooking course. I still hadn’t really eaten a proper solid meal and when we booked it the night before I was still pretty rough but I ended up pulling through ok.

I bumped into Tom, the travel agent from the night before, who took me to his office and pitched a variety of treks and other things to me. He was a really nice guy so I didn’t mind that he was doing a sell job on me. By the end of the day I’d tracked down the girls and signed us all up to a trek starting the next day. Whilst we were gone I got Tom to organise our Laos visas – after the mission surrounding getting the Myanmar visas I couldn’t be bothered with the hassle this time around.

The trek was a two night three day affair. We had a really cool group. Everyone got on well and we had heaps of interesting conversations. We ended up hanging out with two of the guys, Ben & James, for most of the rest of our time in Chiang Mai.

On the first day we did some bamboo rafting. I though it would be boring but it was gold – especially since I was up front trying to steer the thing with 3 others hangin’ tough behind me. It got pretty intense when we hit the rapids. At one stage I didn’t steer us away from a rock in time and I went flying A over T into the water. Luckily I got away with a slightly bruised hand – not bad since I landed on a bed of rocks. No wucken furries.

The rest of the trek consisted mostly of walking though jungle or rice fields for a couple of hours then swimming near waterfalls for an hour then repeating it all again. Good stuff.

On the first evening we stayed in a bamboo shelter on the bank of a river. The next night we stayed with a hill tribe in their village. They cooked up a storm for us. Yummo! After seeing the kitchen they had to work with I won’t be complaining about any kitchen I have to deal with again.

Got to hand it to these tribes people for their inventiveness. Check out the dish rack.

After three days of soaking up nature’s beauty we headed back to Chiang Mai.

The bus trip was 10 hours. It was a pleasure to be on Thai buses and roads after the amusement ride-esque ones in Myanmar. There’s essentially one long straight highway from Bangers to Chiang Mai so it’s a lovely smoothe ride. On long-haul buses in Thailand are ace. The seats recline a mile, you get a foot rest, there’s a hostess who hands out treats, the air-con is pumping (too much), you get your own blanket, there’s a toilet on board and it’s pretty easy to get some sleep. Rancho Relaxo.

Unfortunately since it was about 1:30pm by the time the bus left my body clock had me wide awake, despite my lack of sleep the night before. Sleeping on the bus wasn’t an immediate option. Instead there was a Hollywood film dubbed in Thai on the onboard TV. Even though I can’t speak Thai I could still follow the story line. That either says a lot about my perception skills or a lot about Hollywood films. Hmmm. Anyway it was a Ray Liotta film. He was a bad arse who got sent to a tropical island that was actually a prison. The feds just dump you there and leave you to your own devices. They monitor the island around the clock and if any escape attempts are made they send in the choppers and blow up whatever shelter the prisoners have managed to build. Anyhow it was quite enjoyable – I’ll have to watch it again one day in English and see how it compares.

In the end I did manage to squeeze a couple of hours sleep in on the bus and by the time we rolled into Chiang Mai at 11:30pm I was feeling quite refreshed. Unfortunately we told our guesthouse the wrong arrival time so they weren’t at the bus station to pick us up. So we caught a tuk-tuk instead. The guesthouse was all closed up when we arrived. We banged on the door and someone woke up. At first they tried to tell us they were full and then we convinced them that we’d booked a room so they couldn’t be and they let us in.

There was some reggae music blaring near our guesthouse and since I didn’t feel like sleeping I headed out to see where it was. I found it was a cool little bar with a mix of locals and backpackers. I met a local called Tom who rang a travel agent business. I also got talking to several Brits. It was a good night shooting the breeze and I didn’t end up in bed until about 2:30am. It’d been a long couple of days!

The sun set wasn’t that spectacular but the views from the top of the temple certainly were. After a while hanging out there and taking photos we headed back to the hotel for a quick breaky. Despite charging my camera the night before it was nearly flat. This may have been just the first time I’d had to charge it all trip so it gives a good innings but this sucked. I don’t know why but this seems to happen every time I charge it. It’s like one charge flattens it and screws me then the next time it’s ok. It also has a knack for going flat at big ticket items. I recall a couple of years previous it died while I was at the temple of Anchor in Cambodia. Luckily Peach had her camera so I took charge of it once my camera finally gave up.

Starting so early we were able to get lots done before it got really hot around 11am. I was full of energy though. The temples were so amazing that I couldn’t get enough of them. After a long day checking we got back at our hotel around 2:30pm. That probably doesn’t seem like a long day but when you get up before dawn and are on the go virtually the whole time it is.

Peach and I collected our bags from the hotel staff and waited for Tess. She wasn’t around. The bus was due to leave at 3:30pm and if we weren’t on it we’d miss our flight. We were supposed to get to the bus stop half an hour before departure. As was customary Peach started peaking out – ranting that Tess was inconsiderate and putting at at risk of missing the flight. As expected (by me at least) Tess showed up with a few minutes before 3pm and we made it to the bus stop just in time. But the fun was only just beginning.

The heat was beating down and the coolest place to wait was on the bus which was idling at the stop. Although our tickets were for the fold out middle seats we were told we could sit in normal seats for the first hour until some more people got on at another stop. You beauty!

Just as the bus was pulling out of the station the engine died. Uh oh.

We all jumped off and watched the local men jump into action. They pulled a panel off the side of the bus to reveal a massive stash of spare parts and tools. Obviously they were prepared. As scripted Peach started cursing the world and everything in it. I tried all sorts of methods of getting her to chill out – but to no avail. After I suggested that perhaps she should try some relaxation exercises I was told to “stop fucking preaching”. So I did. I found it all very amusing. For the best part of an hour the blokes toiled away at the back of the bus then we were finally on our way. Our estimates now put our arrival time in Yangon at sometime between 6-6:30am. Our flight left at about 8:30 – so it was going to be tight. We had no idea it was from the bus station to the airport once we arrived in Yangon.

After an hour we stopped in another town and picked up more passengers. We had to switch seats but Peach and I were lucky enough to get a couple of seats in the back row while Tess got one closer to the front. Hopefully it would be another couple of hours before we had to move into the middle.

It turns out that we ended up getting to keep the two back seats for the duration of the trip but about 3 or 4 hours in Tess had to move into one of the middle seats. I offered to take it instead, you know – gentleman and all, but she said she didn’t mind.

The problem with having a seat in the middle of the bus – besides the fact it doesn’t have a proper back rest and that you bounce around even more so than usual thanks to Myanmar’s pothole riddled roads – is that every couple of hours or so the bus stops for a toilet break. So if anyone in a seat behind you wants to get up (and they always do) then you have to get up too. So even if you’re lucky enough to get to sleep (and you never are) you’re bound to be interrupted after a short while.

In the back row I managed to snatch a few minutes sleep at one point before Tess finally asked if she could take my seat. I obliged and took hers. No more sleep for me. I think it was probably 1am by this point. I’d been awake for the best part of 20 hours and had tramped around Bagan checking out temples all day and now I had almost 6 more hours in the middle seat of a bumpy 14 hour bus ride before a flight to Bangkok and then another 10 hour bus ride to Chiang Mai. I was delirious with tiredness. My eyes were so sore from wanting to sleep that it stung to open them.

For the next few hours my mind played all sorts of tricks on me. Every now and then I’d open my eyes for few miniutes and notice that we were fanging down a dirt/sand path not really wide enough for two vehicles. We’d break suddenly every few minutes to crawl around a broken down truck or allow another to pass. Best to keep eyes shut. At one point we broke down again. This time we were on the road in what seemed like 10 minutes – but to be truthful time was blurring itself in my mind.

When the sun started coming up the driver pumped Thai pop music through the stereo system. Even with earplugs in it was still piercing. Pumping music like this was a familiar theme at dawn on buses throughout Asia. I’ve still got some of the songs in my head today.

Peach woke up at the back of the bus as we rolled into town and noticed it was nearly 6:30am – time was tight. She asked me to ask the driver if we were going past the airport. Gold idea. But unfortunately we weren’t. I could see smoke coming out of Peach’s ears. I could hear her muttering and swearing back there but chose to ignore it. She asked me to find out how much longer until we arrived but I refused – apparently that’s bad luck in Myanmar. More ear smoke.

We got to the bus station a few minutes later. Check in had already opened for our flight. There was every chance we’d miss the flight by a matter of minutes. There was nothing we could do about it though so there was no need to stress.

We started bartering with taxi drivers. The driver we took said the airport was 40 minutes away. Tick tock, tick tock. Peach stress level: CODE RED!! He quickly bailed us into his car and we headed off. He seemed quite sure we’d be late. I applied my Myanmar time filter and reckoned we’d be at the airport in 20 minutes instead of 40. And correct I was!! No need to stress. We checked in our bags and got some breakfast in the large stinking hot waiting room that housed the 2 departure gates. And we waited. And we waited. Finally the plane took off nearly an hour late – ha ha!! All this time we thought we were going to miss the flight and then it gets delayed. What a capper!