Sabaidee!

So Mike and I christened our south-east Asian adventures with a swift pint in the Bangkok bar, much window shopping on the Khao San road and then a fully blown shopping trip in the Chatuchak market, a market so ginormous that if you turn round two alley corners you become forever lost amidst stalls of cactuses, printed t-shirts and beads. Sadly, getting lost means asking stall owners for directions and in true Auntie Wainwright style escaping (with unhelpful navigational hand gestures) with a grateful plastic bag or two...so after a full day's shopping we were glad to escape back to the Khao San Road to catch our night bus into Laos. We arrived in the capital, Vientiane, later the following morning and true to the heavily prophesised relaxation of the country had the unusual problem of being greeted by no taxi drivers and had to stumble about the central fountain until managing to check in to Kipps' Guest House, a little ramshackled hostel just off the main road but with a brilliant people watching balcony. In keeping with the chilled vibe of the country we slowly sautnered to the much lauded Scandinavian bakery and recuperated with several doughnuts and cookies. It's crazy to think that Vientiane is the capital of Laos. As we sat in the cafe barely a tuk-tuk rambled past, in fact we barely saw another person except for the table full of crazy French tourists. Even in the evening when we located the riverside restaurants we had our pick of the cushioned floor tables and viewpoints with only a handful of other foreigners to compete against. Oaklands Park seems to see more action than this capital city! As much as we could have luxuriated in the never-ending rest that the locals seem to indulge in we decided to inject a bit of purpose into our Lao ventures and the following day hit the culture trail turning up at the National Museum gates before they had barely even opened. As with most of my knowledge about this part of the world before I arrived I had only the sketchiest idea of Laos' history and so it was brilliant to spend the morning in the fantastically curated museum filling in those huge blank holes. It also makes it even more difficult to understand how a country which was ruled by a successful monarchy, had established progressive trade links with the Dutch and existed fully independently and successfully has been decimated by colonialism and Western wars. The French colonial rule served only to drive corrupt segregations in the ruling elite and then the American bombings during the Vietnam war (justifying them by Laos' permission of Ho Chi Minh to traffic goods through their country) wiped out many innocent civilians in a war that their country was not technically part of and has now left them as the most heavily landmined country in the world, to such an extent that they have been forced to concede that they will probably never locate all the landmines and so a nation is left in fear every footstep it takes... Laos has only been independent for just 35 years and while not having suffered the atrocities of its neightbours Vietnam and Cambodia through war and genocide it is still an incredibly green and undeveloped country that, ignoring the poverty barrier, only seems to enhance it as a place renowned for its friendliness, hospitality and unrivalled relaxed attitude to life. In the afternoon we successfully navigated the local bus service which is modelled on the transportation of battery chickens and found our way to the incredible Buddha Park: a smally grassy enclosure in the middle of the nowhere that houses one crazy man's love of sculpted Buddha's, with over fifty gigantic stone statues of various Hindu and Buddhist gods carved in every position, from the beautiful to the comedic. It was like being seven years old again and running havoc in a National Trust estate with Mike, posing amongst the statues, many of which you can climb in, on and through - something that would cause heart attacks amongst most of the NT faithful. Ignoring the traditional traveler's route to Vang Vieng we took another night bus and drove all the way to Luang Prabang, the ancient capital and in consequence of its heritage has far more of an ambience to it than its southern rival. Unfortunately, these two days were marked by the most continual rain I have ever witnessed (and before I get hauled up on my grammatical failings, yes, continual is the only word that can describe it;for 72 hours it never varied in pace or volume, just one perpeptual, drab drizzle) and which forced us back into the cafes (including the terrifically conceived Books and Tea shop that combines two of my favourite pasttimes where you can sit and pay to borrow books to read in their cafe with gigantic pots of tea!) aborting our planned trips and opting to outrun the rain by the third day and head early to Luang Nam Tha.

Because of the landmines Laos only has one major artery road that runs the length of the country and as Nam Tha is rarely frequented the only means of getting to it was via public bus where ac is provided by open windows and you simply have to pray that your bag won't get soaked strapped to the roof of the bus. Having taken a couple of these buses elsewhere I urged Mike on early to save us a seat while I oversaw the bag loading and this proved to be extremely providential as once having filled all the seats on the bus they then shoved a row of plastic, backless stools down the aisle and proceeded to place people on these for the duration of the thirteen hour journey. I spent most of the night with a Laos man snoring away on my shoulder who having valiantly resisted the urge for the first part of the journey eventually had his resistance broken and with nothing to lean on but me (to be fair he was also supporting his son in front of him) had a comfy night's sleep on my shoulder!s the mecca of ecotourism. The town itself is little more than a few shops and guest houses alongside the main road as most people only come to visit to take part in the treks, mountain bike tours and white water kayaking that weave through the incredible jungle countryside just a few minutes eitherside of the main road. Having done several treks already (and Mike naturally choosing the most dangerous options...) we opted for a one day mountain biking trip and a one day white water kayaking adventure. The biking consisted of 30km wending through local villages (where stopping off at the Lan Tan village we were presented with lovely handwoven bags by the chief's wife, which went some way to compensating for the fact that the cute guinea pigs we saw playing in one of the huts were being fattened up for food later on in the rainy season...), temples housing the Buddhist monks now embarking upon their three month Lent period and gigantic fields full of rice paddy fields in which children run to the tracks to wave and shout "sabaidee" as if we were A-listers rather than mud-spattered, red-faced blustering failing bicyclists.... Owing to the previous rain most of the biking was conducted through thick mud that made it feel like we were cycling double the distance and not helped by our friendly guide's insistence each time we approached another hill that this was the last one....Fortunately, we had a really good group of people which included a pair of young physios on a six month sabbatical only three years into their profession and who speaking to further discovered that the guy, Ben, worked in the William Harvey Hospital and said that he knew Dad from his days at the Royal Vic in Folkestone. I was a bit sceptical about this connection but when Ben elaborated on a conversation he had Dad had shared with him that the NHS was full of bureaucracy and red tape and that it was best to stay out of management and with the patients I knew that he had his man! The second day I had developed a bit of a cold and was not looking forward to the kayaking. This apprehension was doubled by the discovery that not only were we booked into white water rapid kayaking (where I had naively presumed a leisurely float down a congenial stream...) but that I had to share a vessel with Mike, the world's most incorrigble daredevil, who seeks out danger like iron filings to a magnet. I was told that I would be in the back seat as the power came from the front which put Mike well out of my shouting range and increasingly ignored my navigational steering around the rapids to propell us into the rapids....Having survived all the rapids, including one going backwards where Mike typically ignored the command of the steer that comes from the person in the back to try and drive into the foam, I was mightily relieved to learn we were nearly at the finish when our boat suddenly swerved towards the bank and several overhanging branches. In true sacrificial older brother style I managed to turn the boat so that the front missed the branches but was not quick enough to save my half clattering into them; twigs and boughs gave way, grazing against my face, and I thought I was going to be lucky when the last, somewhat stouter branch, clotheslined me straight out of the boat and into the river. Having swallowed most of the water through my surprised open mouth I came up spluttering only to see Mike in absolute hysterics, unable to swing the boat back towards me because he was doubled up with laughter. When he did finally get to me we hit another tree and I ricocheted off back into the rapids only to be rescued by the guide and haul my soaking body back into the boat. According to the other two boats it was the most comic falling out of the day as apparently when the branch hit me I went flyings spreadeagled, arms and legs akimbo, in true starfish style into the water. These are the trials and tribulations of being an older brother. When Mike signalled his interest in the more exhausting and dangerous options I had no choice but to wearily accompany him. This is nothing to do with competitivism or fear of being out done by a younger sibling, I long ago abandoned that the day in France when not wishing to show I was scared agreed to traverse the cliffs with Mike and emerging only with my life and pride intact by the thinnest of webs vowed never to agree to such foolishness again and revel in my role as the mature, wise senior brother who sagely avoided all such unnecessary traumas. No, my decision to join him was made out of that unbreakable bond forged in childhood when assigned to look after younger brothers, "Now just keep an eye on them while I pop into the kitchen," "You should never have let them do that!" and "I thought I told you that you were in charge of them and responsible for them?" Once an older brother always an older brother and so with heavy heart and dramatic sighs I end up agreeing to these things still worried that if I don't some travesty will occur which in my role as protector I would never be able to endure the guilt of having permitted. However, Mike does know when some lines were crossed and so huddled up in the towel in the tuk tuk back to our hostel it was agreed, without demure, that we would be leaving Nam Tha the following day and heading back to the safety of Luang Prabang's cafes. I did have my revenge though when our kayaking guide (who despite his contact and involvement with the tourism industry maintained his ambition was to become the chief of his tribe, the bigwig who sorts out all the village problems and is held in esteem and revered by the villagers without question, which was refreshing after the many natives you see succumbing to the lure of Western materialism) mistook Mike for a girl asking me how my sister was which was all the more poignant as Mike had just been proudly boasting of the stubble he was beginning to grow! In fact, there was sadly little cafe chilling to be done in Luang Prabang because we arrived back in glorious sunshine, an environmental miracle that seemed to transform the city, lulling citizens and tourists out onto the streets. This gave us a chance to visit the Kuang Si waterfall which is the most incredible one I've seen in all my travels. In true Laos style there is virtually no health and safety issues and so working your way up the hill past the black bear and tiger enclosures (rescued animals, there is a huge illegal trade in bear bile) you reach a series of idyllic small pools where you can jump from the trees and ridges of the mini waterfalls into their bowls or just lounge by the side watching the bravado (no, I did jump in!) When you reach the main falls you can't see anything because of the spray and there is one shaky handrail to guide you. As you climb higher and higher up the muddy path gives way to a knee high stream that is so powerful it nearly knocks you over - the French guy behind us lost his footwear climbing up because of the water...It is worth every minute though because the view from the top is breathtaking and the adventure in getting there is half the glory. Our second day was taken up by the fabulous Three Elephants' Cafe cookery course. We began with a delicious egg-fried noodle dish and progressed through the day to the Laos specialities of Chicken Laap, Pork and Chilli casserole and Pork and Eggplant. The chefs would demonstrate at the main station and then with our little guidebook we would collect our ingredients and begin cooking! The course was great in that there is a huge flexibility in how much of each ingredient you use, so while you are given the outline you can vary it as you like to your own tastes which caused several slightly heated debates with Mike's preference for peanuts and chilli versus mine for salt and salad! Saying that though we developed a great little routine that sped us through the day reproducing some amazing dishes and learning how to cook the much coveted sticky rice that we were becoming addicted to. Both the waterfall and the cookery course meant we had a long walk from our riverside guesthouse through town and the fabulous night market which is as cheap as chips and sells local, authentic goods from hand-stitched bedding to woven lanterns. Inevitably we were unable to pass through each time without accumulating bags of goodies (and presents, I hasten to add!) with Mike indulging in the local artists' paintings on bamboo paper and I stocked up on all the luxuries I will need for when I get my own place....! Half the fun, and battle, is haggling with the vendors. You always get floored when they send in the cute, innocent-looking little daughter who seems about to cry making you feel guilty for trying to knock off another 10 000 kip and somewhat taken aback when the stout granny snorts with derision at your initial starting price. In addition our trips back were always further bogged down with me having to stop off at the bakery and Mike making intimate friends with the female baguette vendors.... It was really sad to leave Luang Prabang as we had brilliant accomodation, the most fantastic hosts, a fascinating city and a whole host of activities to be tried but with Mike's birthday looming we had to make it in time to Vang Vieng, the party capital of the country! Having had my birthday plans to go tubing down the river in Vang Vieng villaniously scuppered at the very last minute it was great to carry them out, via proxy, through Mike's birthday which we turned into a dual celebration given that 'we' hadn't celebrated mine together! Having met several travellers coming from the opposite direction who had been unable to tube due to high waters and a death we were fortunate to be blessed with blue sky and scorching sun and we hired our tubes (gigantic tractor tyre inner tubings, hence the name...) and perched on the edge of the tuk tuk were delivered up to the top of the hill to be sacrificed to the waters. The journey itself only takes a couple of hours but there are several bars dug into the riverbanks along the way with little children who spear you with bamboo poles and drag you in. Each bar is different in characteristic. The first one is determined to sink all your inhibitions and get you to know your fellow tubers with plenty of mud and water pistols around. It also has a gigantic swing that everyone goes up on and spectacularly falls off on their first go to the delights of those watching but always emerges with a smile and clambers back up until they are able to perfect a double backflip and enter the water like a bullet! The second bar has chilled lofts to sit in and survey the riverside with volleyball and football pitches for everyone to take part in mass games with no rules! It also has a huge swing and a zip wire which when you hit the end sends you flying uncontrollably across the water - Mike landed a spectacular sideways bomb that left his back red with impact:) The third bar is marked with a free shot of some disgusting local spirit (I suspect the evil rice wine...) and blasts out reggae music with everyone sitting cross-legged on little thatched floors elevated upon stilts. The fourth bar is heaving with people, dancing on the tables and benches if not taking part in the giant mechanical swing...In true birthday style we never made the fifth or sixth bars somehow ending up in the final group due to leave and discovering that our tubes were being hauled onto a tuk tuk and we unceremoniously herded into a longboat to be sped down to the finishing line passing flailing tubers in the pitch black completely unaware of where they were or how to get out! Unfortunately the day was marred slightly by a disagreement with the tubing company who on returning to without our tubes tried to fine us in spite of the fact that the guy who had brought our tubes back was standing in the vicinity. When I pointed to him he denied all knowledge and it wasn't until I threatened to report them to the Lonely Planet (a trick that always works when wee foreigners are dared to be taken advantage of by unscrupulous locals;)) that we were allowed to leave and later discover this is a typical ruse used against stragglers to try and squeeze a bit more money...In spite of this mishap it was a brilliant day, the most fun-filled I've had on my travels and a great way to celebrate our birthdays in a style I don't think either of us will forget!! Apart from the tubing Vang Vieng is notable only for its plethora of 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S' bars - an invention I believe deserves Nobel prize worth accolades. Whether you are tired from just arriving in the town, slightly worse for wear from the previous day's tubing or waiting for your bus out of the town, they are the best way to spend a few hours chilling. The seats are all lowered so you slump into a mound of pillows, with the table drawn up onto your treat replete with a veritable banquet of Laos goodies and Western guilty pleasures within chomping distance of minimal effort and huge screens dropping from the ceiling that play the FRIENDS dvds all day long; think about it, no adverts, just one episode after another. Whole afternoons can be lost to the second half of series three without even realising you haven't moved for five hours! It's also a brilliant communal ploy, uniting newbies, oldies and recoverees in a melee of theme-tune clapping and uninhibited laughter that transcends language. Having passed through all of Monica and Chandler's getting together up to the wedding, Ross and Rachel's wedding and Rachel and Joey's engagement it was time to move on with a day of travelling which included three buses through Vientiane and Pakse until arriving in the 4000 islands right in the southern tip at the Cambodian border (requiring another minivan and boat). We nearly didn't make it when changing buses in Pakse we were assured by the bus inspector that the bus we had loaded our bags onto was the one to the islands only to be told, only as the bus was about to leave that he had got it wrong and our bus was on the other side of the station. At this point, even though neither Mike or I were boarded, the bus with our bags on pulled out of the station causing Mike to run after it waving his arms to stop it and rescue our bags!

When we did safely arrive we stayed in Don Det which has no electricity and is truly back to basics with gorgeous stilted bungalows lapping in the river with hammocks strung outside in which you can pass whole days reading from the brilliant library at Mr Tho's. Impressed by Laos' chilled out attitude, this was taken to a whole other level. A bungalow for 60p a day, a bike rented for another 60p a day in which you can traverse the island's criss-crossing network of paths that take you by the biggest waterfall (in terms of volume) in the country, dirt cheap meals at the riverside restaurants and a menagerie of animals that would make Dr Doolittle blush - what more could you want!? Our guest house owner had a litter of tiny kittens who would come running out every morning when we emerged to play, there was an unrivalled panorama of the gorgeous sunsets at a brilliant restaurant on the western tip of the island and an undiscovered beach on the eastern side to lounge upon in the sun. Don Det is attached to Don Khon by the only bridge that the French built in their entire occupation of Laos and for a nominal fee allows you to explore an island larger and more diverse. One day we ended up on a typical Mike mountain bike expedition in the middle of a jungle where we had to carry our bikes over a rickety railway track high above the river not knowing where we are and the heavens opening while another we fulfilled a long held ambition of mine to take a boat out into the delta and watch the rare Irriwaddy dolphins. Having failed to find orang utans in Borneo I was beginning to worry my David Attenborough days were being numbered before my pre-pubescent fledgling TV career had developed time to even emerge from its pupae but was saved by a whole afternoon of watching the glorious snub-nosed, round-headed sperm-whale looky-likes diving in and out of the waters. Apart from a struggle one night when after it had gone pitch black we had to hold hands to try and walk back from the sunset restaurant to our hostel in mud and rain it was a fantastic ending and complete testament to our time in this incredible country. Everyone says Laos is going to be the new Thailand with its untapped natural resources, hospitable nation of people and combination of fun and relaxation and it was a pleasure to be able to see it before this, sadly inevitable, transformation. Having feared that Mancunian last minute panic had ruined my chances of visiting this country it has been absolutely brilliant to experience this with a brother who has helped me explore every edge (willingly or not!) and who epitomises the laidback ambience to a T! As well as exploring the many faucets of the country we have also made a lot of time to relax and take things easy; with our artillery of books and notepads it has also been a creatively productive time, which after three months of non-stop jet-setting has been much needed. It is sad to bid farewell to this country and its beautiful people. It has been my favourite place to visit so far with its balance of fun and relaxation, adventure and rest, natural beauties and true parties - not to mention the innumerable pastries and fantastic eateries. Sadly, it was back to Bangkok briefly to sort out flights and post stuff home as I was carrying about four extra bags. But we quickly escaped to the island of Ko Chang to "decompress" which essentially involved staying in a treehouse on Lonely Beach and lying in the sun reading, swimming, dangling in hammocks and chilling out in the brilliant open air bar at night listening to the brilliant house band and eating ourselves silly. So now we're recharged it's a marathon haul to the Philippines for three weeks as we get back on the traveling bandwagon! FAVOURITE PLACE: Luang Prabang - the perfect cluster of everything that epitomises the country within easy access and shared by incredibly kind people/ FAVOURITE ACCOMODATION: Cold River Guest House (Luang Prabang). Embarrassingly cheap prices for a real homely feel, complete with a surrogate family who adopt you completely during your stay whether it be the uncle loaning you the tuk-tuk or the grandmother cooking you parcels of sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves for your next bus journey. FAVOURITE FOOD: Joma's Bakery wins a very tight contest with its superb apple pie and unrivalled chocolate cake! (I would say our own cooking at The Three Elephants but that would just be egotistical...and setting me up for a fall when it's demanded I cook a Laos dish...!) WORST PLACE: The bottom of the Nam Tha river.... WORST FOOD: Could eat Laos food forever! MOST BIZARRE: Mike collapsing the hammock in the 4000 islands, which after his laughing at me in the river I had every misfortune to miss...Everyone competing for other people to join their tours in Nam Tha to bring the cost down...the tourists become the touts! The minivan driver deciding to leave the late French tourists behind at the Khang Si waterfall because they hadn't arrived at the time due to leave (tantamount to Laos hypocrisy - they don't believe in anything running on time as that requires a schedule that contradicts their relaxed, to the point of horizontal, attitude to life!) condemning them to a night in the jungle with the bears and tigers only to be stopped on our insistence! The annoying yapping dog at The Three Elephants Cafe which attacks everyone that walks through the gate but defended by a sign hanging from the gate of warning you of its grumpiness and that if you get bitten it is your own fault, as testified by an Ozzie on our course who had her toe bitten when she tried to go to the toilet! I wonder if this dog perhaps enbodies the grumpiness of the whole nation...?!; the Lan Tan tribe tradition of women shaving their eyebrows off to signify they are of marrying age and avoid the awkward confusion of wondering if they are "legitimate' WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS: If you hadn't guessed by now, the chilled atmosphere! Lazing in hammocks. Tubing down the river:) The brilliant nightbuses with their Casino Royales playing and proper reclining seats, not to mention the freebie biscuits and fruit! WHAT I'M NOT GOING TO MISS: Having to leave Laos? BOOKS READ: 'Zorro' - Isabelle Allende (a departure from the mysticism of the Chilean's usual canon for a ripping swashbuckling yarn); 'Exit Music' - Ian Rankin (decided to try a Rankin, especially as Mike loves him, but having chosen the final book think I missed out on the supposed brilliance of the relationship that develops over the 16 previous books between the curmudgeonly Rebus and his deputy that deprived me of fully enjoying it, that and the lame 'surprise' solving of the case...); 'The Wild Sheep Chase' - Haruki Murikami (utterly bizarre as ever though not anywhere near as superb as 'Kafka On The Shore'); 'Stay Alive, My Son' - Pin Yathay (I cried at the end of this as the more I find out about the Cambodian genocide the more extreme it seems to get. This was different from 'First They Killed My Father' in that it is written from the perspective of an adult suffering the cruelties and interestingly seems to lay more blame on American withdrawal and the shameful absence of the rest of the world to intervene. A MUST READ); 'Eleven Minutes' - Pablo Coehlo (as the author admits in the Preface as he's lighting a candle at Lourdes, couldn't be any more different from the book that made him famous but nonetheless revealing of the human psyche); 'Amsterdam' - Ian McEwan (at the risk of repeating myself, brilliant poetic prose language but a farcical story that verges on Ben Elton incredulity without, I fear the consciousness of being so sharply satirical); 'The God Delusion' - Richard Dawkins (brilliant to get my teeth into something intellectual again, though philosophy remains a troubling ache to my poor brain...makes a lot of good points but essentially if you are going to disprove something it is better to make a case of your own rather than pick and choose what parts of that thing you don't like in an attempt to disavow it - anyone can do that!)

QUOTES: "There is no such thing as absolute truth...everything passes through the filter of the observer. Memory is fragile and capricious; each of us remembers and forgets according to what is convenient. The past is a notebook with many leaves on which we jot down our lives with ink that changes according to the state of our mind." ('Zorro' - Isabele Allende); "We know so little about each other. We lie mostly submerged, like ice floes, with our visible selves projecting only cool and white." ('Amsterdam' - Ian McEwan); "He is a man. He is an artist. He should know that the great aim of every human being is to understand the meaning of total love. Love is not to be found in someone else, but in ourselves; we simply awaken it. But in order to do that, we need the other person, The universe only makes sense when we have someone to share our feelings with." "Really important meetings are planned by souls long before the bodeis see each other. Generally, these meetings occure when reach a limit, when we need to die and be reborn emotionally. These meetings are waiting for us, bur more often than not we avoid them happening. If we are desperate, though, if we have nothing to lose, or if we are full of enthusiasm for life, then the unknown reveals itself, and our universe changes direction." ('11 Minutes' - Pablo Coehlo)