From bowling balls to swirly clouds

I sit dozily at an incredibly slow computer in the underrated town of Vang Vieng - Laos. We've since conquered Luang Prabang, the french world heritage site with no loud noises, hundreds of monks in bright orange attire and beautiful french architecture lining the streets. We began by finding our guesthouse that had been reccommended by our french friends in the previous town we were in. We rocked up, picking up a few new friends from the boat E., J. and O. on the way. A cool dude from the Isle of White and 2 lovely Canadian girls that are almost finished uni. The beauty of arriving in a big group (given there's space) is you practically get a dorm for yourself, making it our new home again and again by draping cloth and clothes here and there, lights on when you want them and curtains closed when you choose. J. emptied the contents of  his bag all over the bed as soon as we arrived, and those that shotgunned the shower first hopped in after a long and sweaty 7 hour boat ride. It was funny coming out of the shower smelling like Shampoo and walking into our dorm that 10 minutes ago had smelt fine, but the contrast was appalling as everyone's dirty washing created a not-so-pleasant odour..

V.Ball at Utopia

Veg Buffet

The boys followed their stomachs and were out of the hostel faster than we'd arrived, looking for food in the night market. J. and I decided to follow a different crew for a meal - settling with noodle soup for $2.50 that left our mouths burning and our noses streaming. We walked through the markets after dinner and it all came rushing back. You know when you've been to a place before, and you return to exactly the same scene, it's like travelling back in time. The little ladies selling their wares. Handmade shirts, colourful bags, block printed paintings, metal bracelets made out of bomb fragments, bottles of dead snakes fermenting in rice wine. It went on and on and on, getting hotter and hotter as you walked passed the smoky BBQ's and street vendors, the smoke getting trapped under the cloth above our heads. We bumped into our Israeli friend that had moved on a few days before us - having drinks at a suave french bar after being succesfully seduced with a 'free cocktail' flier. The curfew here as I've said before, is 11pm, which makes everything rather rushed once the clock's struck 9:00pm. The place to be in LP is Utopia, an outside bar with comfy cushions where people lie smoking shisha or watching extreme sports. Round the back is a huge volleyball court where the drunk gather to smash the ball in whatever direction they please as hand-eye-coordination slowly declines. It was so bizaare when you walked around and noticed the huge missiles sticking out of the ground, the missile that had been turned on its side and made into a BBQ or the one that the toilet paper rested on in the corner of the bathroom.

Golden Buddha's

When 11pm strikes, the crowds are whisked off by eager tuk tuk drivers, to the bowling alley, the only place in LP that stays open until 3am. I expected disco lights and dancing but we arrived to bright, fluorescent lights, bowling and Justin Bieber in the background. It wasn't until later that I realized why none of the bars here have dance floors.. dancing in Luang Prabang is illegal. Go figure? I don't understand the logic..
It's nice having everyone staying at the same hostel, it means you can be shuttled away with a group and will most likely end up home -- the second floor being the post-bowling gathering spot where bongs, papers and cups scattered the table and a sign reading 'Stay QUIET after 12!' was prominently stuck on the pillar above the table.
The next morning we all herded to the breakfast vendors selling fruit shakes and fresh baguettes with your choice of filling. We noticed how it was only foreigners eating here, ah well it worked for us. We wanted to do something productive with our day so haggled a tuk-tuk down to a reasonable price and headed off to the waterfalls. We arrived to the garden of Eden, 'a Disney scene', an Oasis. I'd been before but it never ceases to amaze how stunning the turqoise water is. Nothing could spoil this scene but bad weather, luckily the sun was on our side. We swung off ropes all day into the still water, hopping out as the little fish nibbled your toes and later meditating in the serenity.
That evening everyone was starving, so we appropriately found a vegetarian buffet in which they gave you a plate for just over a dollar, and allowed you to pile it as high as you wanted -- the boys came over to the table precariously balancing their piles of food. Utopia and various moments of chunder followed that night.

Typical breaky

The next day, after a painful experience at a ridiculously slow internet cafe, attempting to upload photo's as back-up and having the computer turn on and off for an hour. The day got progressively better luckily, as we explored temples around the town and had a coffee and a few flower fumes at a sweet cafe over hanging the Mekong and then ending up with the crew at the notorious Veg. buffet again.. the law of 'no dancing' wasn't an issue that evening as we lay happily watching extreme sports in awe, monged out on the cushions. That evening we met a Kiwi Off-shore worker thats minted mate was having a 33rd birthday party at 'the pool' the next day, with $1000 tab to share. Ah the beauty of bars.

Crazy missiles

The next day was 'Justin's big birthday', we arrived to see hundreds of people and an empty tab that had been cleared of drinks in the first 2 hours, it was only 2pm. We talked, swam and kicked around the ball until dinner time when we treated ourselves to our regular Indian. Seeing the total price made us laugh as for 10 people we were paying the equivalent of 1 person back 'home' (in London). We ended with these little tapioca rice puddings that they serve in little banana leaf boxes on the street, and chunks of vibrant red watermelon. The night brought us back to the second floor of our hostel, with our new Israeli friends 'Tslil and Daphna', it was interesting discussing religious views with the first agnostic Israeli-Jew I'd met so far. We'd be interrupted momentarily by the annoying child that ran around constantly crying and throwing toy trucks at the stray cats that roamed the area.
The following night was the same child's birthday I think, and it was a night of silence for once. The owner of the guesthouse provided everyone with a free 'instant noodle' dinner and birthday cake that lined everyone's stomachs well for the night that followed. I was missing wheat -- having a wheat-allergy restricts a lot in terms of diet. No instant noodles, baguettes, toast, pasta. It's a lot easier to follow in Asia when rice is the main starch but I was missing my western food as well and craved a baguette or an oreo (that's all the rage here). That day had been a relaxed one. We'd spent it reading, writing, sorting out bank stuff and eating banana-chocolate-peanut butter crepes. In the evening 'Life of Pi' was showing at 'the bookshop'. It was upstairs, in an attic almost, where books lined the walls and everyone had a cup of tea of hot chocolate. Cushions were scattered everywhere, and we jumped on a spot right in front of the screen as soon as we could. I was apprehensive about watching the movie when the book had been so good, but it projected the writing so perfectly onto the screen. It teaches you so clearly, in a very hollywood-esque way, about so much. It talks about how the bible/ religious texts are just elaborated stories of the simple and basic facts, how to conquer the 'evil' within yourself to survive (symbolized by a tiger) and realizing via coming across the carniverous island, that paradise/ heaven on earth, can turn into hell just as fast. All part of the Yin-Yang I guess.
After the movie we decided to show our faces for a few hours at Utopia, bumping into the girls we'd lived with in 'Sapa, Vietnam' during our home stay. Listening to their adventures/ horror stories about being in a bus that crashed and covering themselves from shards of glass with thin blankets. We touched wood with sympathetic faces, hoping we wouldn't be repeating the story with us as the new characters. That evening we looked around the table, feeling slightly wavy, and realizing most of our crew had moved on to Vang Vieng. It's funny looking around and not recognizing anyone, apart from the new Swedish boys we'd been speaking to, picking up as many tips about our next (and their previous) destination.

The sun-bears by the waterfall

The waterfall

The morning after was the day we were supposed to leave. And it was rather rushed to say the least. J. jumped out of bed at 11.00am realizing he had to pick up forms at the hospital, as I packed his bag and rushed to Utopia to re-claim our clothes that we'd left (who's surprised?) the night before.. We all arrive back in-sync realizing we had over an hour to relax before the bus came. That hour was spent getting breaky and doing a bit of basic chemistry.. extracting Codeine from Paracetamol to crash out on the long, and windy 6 hour bus ride to V.V. 'What's the time' someone mentioned, and when the response was '1:34pm' when we were supposed to leave at '1:30pm' we all slumped our shoulders, realizing we'd indeed missed the bus. Luckily our manager set us up with a 'VIP mini-van' for less than the local-bus price and we all hopped in an hour past 'leaving time'. The mood was wavy until we hit the windy roads, and everyone bit their tongues and kept their stomachs in check as we sat through the very long first couple of hours that lead us into the clouds. We got out at last, letting out a sigh of relief that we were somewhat closer to our destination, and gaping at the thick fog that surrounded us. It was cold again and felt like we were back in Hanoi, the jumpers came out and everyone dissapeared pronto as you couldn't see a metre infront of you. We finally arrived to a dark and quiet Vang Vieng, jumping out at 'Santii-villa guesthouse' that had been reccommended by the Swedes. It was exciting having such huge rooms, clean beds and our own showers. That evening we ate our noodle soups in silence in front of 'Friends' that was showing on TV at the restaurants. Half-way through the meal running into our mates from LP made us all smile. We passed out in front of HBO and a few flower fumes that the bar next door sold in great variety on his 'Happy menu'.
Being in Vang Vieng feels like being in a fairy-tale. It's like the Amsterdam of Asia - menu's selling 'shroom-tea and opium shakes' like it's the most normal thing in the world. We skipped a day at the blue lagoon the next day for a pineapple shroom shake and a day of reflection. Stumbling across a magical bridge that lead to a surreal reality of a stunning lord-of-the-ring'esque river, mountains, locals washing their clothes and people floating individually in tubes down the river. Hot-Air-Balloons rose above us and everyone closed their eyes to experience the visuals and the understanding of the world beyond our shallow perception. We made our way back in time for sun-set to our rooms for a boogie to Pink Floyde, that suddenly seemed so much clearer. That evening was full of laughs on every level.

The day of reflection

Funny tea

The day after we joined the crowds and came back down for a bit of tubing down the Mekong. Though It's changed from a crazy, drunk-tourist centre, it's changed for good. We floated in peace, with the optional bar or 2 a long the way, through spots of sun and in front of gigantic fictional mountains all the way to the end-point that was a few hours down the line. Seeing people get stuck on rocks and tumbling in rapids making everyone giggle a long the way. Sticks were our method of paddling and hooking onto each others feet our way of sticking together. The evening ended with hot showers, a big family dinner, free banana milkshakes and a movie night infront of the 'big screen' at 'Sakura', everyone grunting in frustration as the end of 'Snatch' froze. Banana-chocolate crepes made it all better, and our soft pillows awaited beaming faces back at Santii-villa, our home for the moment being.

Recipe of the day: Rice dumplings

http://www.thekitchn.com/recipe-kenny-laos-rickshaw-dum-74872

A bumpy start

The little Laotian lady & J's injured arm

Our first meal by the riverside

The tables seem to have turned concerning a number of things. 1) I started off travelling with 1 girl and 1 boy.. crazy J. came a long and the female vibes just kept coming. Now, I'm one girl in a group of 10 lads. "It's like a fucking Forest down south, can I borrow your razor?", "RUGBY TIME!", "Beer, beer, beer!". I exaggerate slightly because they're all genuine and wouldn't hurt a fly but it's a funny turn of events. 2) We left Vietnam expecting calm and tranquil. I've picked up a tummy bug (sticking to a vegetarian diet for once) and on one of our slowest motorbike excursions so far, we skidded on a dirt road and managed to land ourselves in the hospital for the second time in an hour. The doctor looked happy as our money bags jingled in regret. I sat on the ledge watching J. on the bed nearest to me and a little boy on the one furthest away, both being stitched up. I sat there with a few cuts and bruises, tears streaming down my face as I swelled with the pain of J's arm, and the little boys foot on the other side of the room. The little boy had his eyes squeezed tight as they ruthlessly clamped down his legs to stop him from squirming. I attempted to distract J. from his pain by talking to him about home, mum and dad and his best mates back in Aus. choking on my own tears didn't seem to help the situation. I held my thumbs up and strained a smile to the little boy on the other side of the room to keep his spirits up, but mine weren't in full functioning order either so the attempt was in vain. The nurse came around and squirted some white alcoholic solution on my cuts and bruises and after a quick job (that turned out to be infected only days later), the doctor wished us good luck, put on his jacket and walked out. I turned to the window behind me to see the other boys waiting patiently, rolling around in wheelchairs, it made me grin. I just didn't understand where all this bad karma was coming from. Only hours before I'd been lying here having a blood test to check whether I had malaria or not (thankfully it's just food poisoning) and wanting to just be cradled and looked after..Lying in a hospital bed is never fun, i could just think of how only weeks earlier I'd been lying in one in KL, hospital environments are just so unnatural. The smell, the equipment, the people, the energy. Thankfully the blood test came back negative for malaria, and while the doctor attempted to convince me to have various stomach scans that would cost a ridiculous sum of money, I payed what I owed and left with a sigh of relief that it was only food poisoning and I wouldn't have to admit defeat and fly home in a few days time.  It was only until later that we saw it as a sign that R&R was in need. A few days of no drinking or doing, just settling for a little. It was ironic that on our day of recovery i watched the clip my mum had sent me a few weeks earlier, that was so appropriate for the situation (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lx-AtPKWf9k&feature=share&list=UU1KIUp4PNCyIwCPTq1hYzWQ). One of the best things I got from it, besides a lifted spirit, was reaching enlightenment is like learning how to surf in a sea of waves. The waves can be both good and bad, sometimes you catch a great one and ride it for a while, and other times you tumble under the surface. You can't convince yourself you're always in a happy place because it's cruel to deny the dark side of the yin-yang. It bought me to the thought of intuition.. Just before the crash happened I was holding onto the back of the bike, imagining a scene in which we'd skid around a dirt corner and topple over, brushing off the thought with a shake of my head. Only minutes later did it actually occur and I was suddenly lying ontop of J. our wheel spinning and a dust cloud settling over us. I rolled over with a bruised knee and the boys all pulled up, gaping at the scene. J. pulled his sleeve up to reveal a deep gash, more were to be found on his hip and grazes in various other parts. We groggily drove back to the hospital, the thought of biking through the rest of the country losing all appeal.

Me and 'Mama'

The bus ride earlier wasn't fun either, sitting on bags of hard rice as we rocked side to side, the number of passengers increasing constantly and the number of goods (whether it be chickens, cabbages or potatoes, they just kept on coming). The pangs in my stomach would come and go in waves and I attempted to breathe into them and continue discussion with the boys or nod off to sleep against the hard glass window.. neither of them really working as good methods of distraction. We arrived and got into a tuk-tuk to get to the strip of guesthouses that we hopped between before settling on first one we'd seen. 4 in one room, 3 in another.. a few valium later I was passed out and in a happy place, the pain temporarily gone for the time being..
Laos had started with a bang and now we were at a crash. We'd began in a little border-town village that was tranquil and cheap, exactly what we needed. We stayed at a little guesthouse on the edge of the Mekong and after a swim with the locals, we checked out the town to take a few snaps and get a feel for where we now were. Passing an internet cafe with huddles of boys playing 'WOW' and 'Runescape' - it's funny how no matter what country you're in, the universal habits stay the same. At our guesthouse every night, there was a huge 'family dinner' for everyone staying there. Unlimited vegetarian food piled on plates that you helped yourself to, a long with unlimited shots of their local rice wine, that they continuously filled up during the meal. When the staff had gone to bed, they curiously placed 2 full bottles on our table, and left the fridge full of beer, unlocked (not smart when there's a group of drunk tourists stumbling around). We conversed with our new french friends, a drunk mix of languages spanning the room while we slurred words about a trek we were all set to do early the next morning (which of course never ended up happening, given that we were breathing rice wine till well into the afternoon). After a few days there and enough shots of rice wine we moved on to the next town, checking we hadn't left anything behind this time.

As we sat and ate our meals, Jack turned around to brush away a 'mosquito' that he heard in his ear. Only to realize it was another of the little old Laotian women wearing traditional dress and chewing beatle nut, making their funny 'shh shh shh' noises and trying to sell us 'bracelets'. After a few 'no no's' they opened their little bags to reveal huge bags of weed and little packets of opium. They'd go as far as to stuff it under your T-Shirt to get you to buy their (disappointing) products. I laughed as they tried to convince Jn. (a policeman in training) to buy their class A drugs.. but a few poppy fumes did help lighten the pain, only in Laos. We later bumped into our french friends from the first town, who'd made the trek the next morning, and spent the evening discussing picking clementines in Corsica  the next move on my agenda when I return to Europe. We all groggily got into bed, talking about aliens, the supernatural and how crazy the concept of wiki-leaks was, before drifting into a deep and beautiful slumber.

We didn't want to hold back our boys so for the day they went Kayaking while we rested and recovered.. before booking our tickets for the 'long boat' to Luang Prabang, our next stop. I'd been 2 years ago so was interested to see how different it'd be without the family, nice restaurants and no budget. We'd lost one of our boys N. who'd just finished his national service in the Israeli army and had a limited travel period so had to move faster than us, hence the group had shrunk again, (which did make it slightly easier to keep track of everyone.) We'd missed check-out time again, and were waved off by a hard-faced woman who was running the guesthouse (but I could understand as a single woman running a guesthouse you'd have to be on the ball the whole time, especially when people don't follow instructions, we couldn't exactly expect a friendly response).While on the bus, going up a fairly steep hill, we suddenly came to a halt as the engine stopped working and we narrowly escaped a crash with a local truck full of people. We began rolling backwards before the driver cleverly started the bus in reverse and we continued on, sighing in relief that this wasn't the end of our journey (for the second time). I'd stopped taking all the pills i'd been prescribed, my tummy ache was easing (ironically) and my mood was lighter. J. and I played word association games and laughed non-stop as the rest of the crew nodded off to their music.We had a quick toilet-break before the 7 hour boat ride, seeing the sign 'pay for toilet' annoying everyone. I hate it when they expect you to pay for something that's so basic and necessary. So everyone turned the corner and went in the bushes behind the facility.. almost expecting to see 'pay money' signs behind the bushes.

Coffee and Cigs

The long-boat was great fun. We motored along slowly, watching locals wash rice by the sides of the Mekong  pink water buffalo lapping water on the rocks and little boys frolicking by the sand as the older men stood behind them patiently with fishing lines. We read books, snoozed, jammed with guitars and harmonica's, sketched and talked. The time flew by and we were soon at the next town, that bordered Thailand 'Houeiai', where we stayed at 'BAP' guesthouse that was recommended in lonely planet. The woman running the guesthouse told us to call her 'mama', and was adamant that if we left we weren't allowed to come back. 'That's not fair mama' I said, 'no no you no say that's not fair, you go you no come back!' She made us laugh and obviously knew how to run a business. We played a new Spanish card game that night 'Escola', had some Lao tea and fresh mango while watching the sun set behind the red hills in Thailand (that was only 100m away across the Mekong). We then moved on to 'Pakbeng', the next town, before we caught the second-half of our long-boat journey to LP. A man stood where we arrived, with a sign saying 'BuonMey guesthouse' and shouting 'Bone me! Bone me!' that made us all giggle childishly. On the back of the sign was crossed out 'happy shakes, opium shakes, happy pancakes, opium pancakes' and that made us laugh even harder. We followed him up to his guesthouses, he'd sold it well, an odd character, completely ADD and switching between mocking English accents, to telling everyone to 'shut-up!' to giggling hysterically. I couldn't keep up. A group of others followed him as well  they'd pre-booked and weren't impressed with the steep walk up the hill, not what they'd read in the description when they were promised a 'free-ride to the guesthouse'. His excuse being 'oh the bus was late'. He claimed his name was 'Marco Polo' and we soon realized, like his name, his pitch was a scam as well  The rooms were dingy, the hot water didn't work, the extra bed never came, the happy shakes weren't happy enough and half the items on the menu were 'unavailable'. We still fell asleep happy that night, discussing childhood memories of 'Clifford the big red dog, spot, smurfs, Baba the elephant, Postman Pat' and so many more that bought fond smiles to our faces. Jn. smiling more than he had been 20 minutes ago when he'd discovered the giant spider in the corner of our bathroom (his one weakness besides heights).

Our make-shift meals on the boatride

We were awoken for the second half of the long-boat journey earlier than we'd have liked, with a bang on the door from 'Marco Polo', "GET UP! BOAT LEAVING!" We quickly ordered our fried rice, fruits and snacks to take on the boat, trying to avoid the extortionate rates that they tried to charge us. The first day we'd made make-shift meals of sticky rice, cans of tuna, soup from pot noodles.. borrowing bowls and cutlery off of our new Lao friends sitting in front of us, that were more than happy to practice their English as we tried to slip in a few words of Laotian. On the boat I thought back on all the people we'd met so far and how many had left their mark.. one in particular eliciting a furrowed brow .. the man we'd met in Nha Trang, Vietnam. He was 57 and had been in the British army, working as a sniper for the last 22 years. I remember talking to him over buckets of alcohol, crying as I watched the pain in his face as he told us about his best friend dying in his arms, the children he'd seen shot by their parents, the missions he'd had to be on and the amount of people he'd had to kill. The shadow loomed over him but rays of light still shined. The one most harrowing story he told me was of the brothel he'd had to break into. The men running it would sexually abuse girls from the ages of 7 - 20 before killing them and roasting their heads on spits, he'd killed each man involved and told us this with shaking hands and salty tears. J. and I couldn't imagine the pain he'd been through, and felt lucky to live so free of so much trauma and death, inspired by his strength we felt like that was the most we'd gained from any conversation at 'Why Not Bar' so far..

The boat ride passed faster than the previous one, I closed my eyes and 'a minute' later, we were already in in L.P, the French colonial buildings greeting us on arrival - I love this town, a world heritage site with no loud traffic, noisy rude people or big buses. We Followed our friends advice and trekked with other groups of backpackers to 'Spicy Lao', the hostel everyone was staying at. The adventures of which will be saved for the next post..

Recipe of the day: Laotian prawn curry

http://anhsfoodblog.com/2007/01/coconut-love-laotian-prawn-curry.html/