Stuck in Snooky

Mm

Typing feels strange after not having sat at a computer for two weeks or so.. it’s funny how things like writing or typing start to feel strange when the habit’s taken away. Since my last post a lot has happened. We’ve found a place to live for a while, managed to land ourselves jobs at a beach-side bar/ guesthouse, discovered a lovely new community of people, aand have had our motorbike stolen, after 3 days. But before Snookyville takes off, we began Cambodia in Pnom Penh, the capital city.

Witnessing the dramatic fire in Pnom Penh..

We’d left Laos in a rush, a groggy head from a funny night out (the poem describes it sufficiently), a long bus ride and a valium later we arrived, 4 hours late, in Pnom Penh. It was funny going through immigration and walked across ‘no mans land’, a huge strip of land between Cambodia and Laos, that no one owns, walking across it was liberating. On the last couple of hours of our bus journey the people on our bus were split in half, those going to Siem Reap were told they’d have to wait another few hours before their bus was due to arrive – getting anywhere in the dark isn’t fun, the hassle of tuk tuk drivers, finding a hostel, settling down. We sighed in relief that we were leaving first.

Bodhi Villa, Kampot

Having a good shower in a cement-room with a big bed was such a luxury. Not having to worry about cockroaches scuttling over your toes or popping up under the sheets. We had dinner with our new mates, newly wed psytrance DJ’s from Burmingham A and T. We all inhaled the slowness of P.P and crashed out after a long day of travelling. The next day the others went off to the Killing Fields and S21 but I’d felt once was enough, so went to run a few errands, getting lost in the gridded map of the city to hunt down the Cambodian Red Cross, effort. That night we all needed a bit of lightening up, so we checked out the night life; from a yummy dinner, to a good drink to a fancy club (Pontoon, recommended by lonely planet ;) ) we came out of it giggling but slightly disturbed. The amount of prostitutes everywhere is shocking, most of them are so young and pretty you wouldn’t think it, until she crawls slowly up an old white man’s knee and proceeds to chat him up. After a conversation that neither understand he pays the bill, takes her hand and drives away casually, with her on the back of his motorbike. The ‘madame’ of them all walked around, giving sunflower seeds to the girls that then gave them to the child beggars running around. It was twisted how she looked after the scene yet it was the wrong one to be in. She strolled over, massaged J’s head for $1, offered him a prostitute and after a polite refusal, walked away with a smile. We wondered over to Pontoon, bodyguards lined the corridor, checking for drugs, weapons and ‘pregnant women’, hm. The drinks were expensive, old men and young girls swarmed, and the visuals on the wall kept swirling. The vibe was strange and yawns contagious so we headed home.
The next morning an odd series of events took place, on arrival at a nearby temple, J and I’s heads floated and our eyes gazed at the carvings in the rock. We were lead by an old Cambodian man into a little shrine room containing various Buddha’s and paintings on the wall. Some still had their plastic wrappers on which confused me a little. He began passing us incense, spraying water on our hands and muttering silent prayers, as though a ritual had begun. The heat rose in the little shrine and the smell of the incense made us light headed. It all ended and then the twist came, he motioned over to the Buddha’s hands for money. I smirked and put a note into the charity box. Hoping it wasn’t a lie to live up to the rare nickname ‘Scambodia’, we wandered away, dazed by what had just happened. We walked along the river, ate noodles and corn, drank ice coffee in plastic bags and watched the most bizarre ‘live aerobics’ right next to the road. We managed to find a riverside bar and play a game on the fancy pool table with the shiny balls, our Canadian couple met us for a Mexican dinner and it all ended sprawled on a sofa, after attempting to explain (with diagrams), what 1 scoop of chocolate and 1 scoop of vanilla ice cream meant. It was finally ‘understood’ and of course dessert was served, 2 scoops vanilla, haha we tried.

Sihanoukville

The next day we journeyed through busy, hot markets and attempted to find the yoga centre that was closed. Tarantula’s and crickets were being sold by the bag, with a pinch of salt and a dash of lime. Fruits were abundant and women lounged next to their stalls in hammocks strung around wooden beams. We had to get back to the guesthouse to move rooms, it felt like constantly moving house. We laughed at the prospect of being together for a few months, yet already moving houses in different countries within that time. We walked passed the big ‘$2 English Breakfast! Free Coffee/ Tea’ sign, what a good find. We decided we didn’t want to get stuck in one place for too long, it’s so easy to do when travelling, the need for stability. So we bought a bus ticket to Kampot to hit up ‘Bokor National Park’ and stay at an old time favorite ‘Bodhi Villa’, we were splitting a gorgeous double room adorned with fairy lights, for $2.50 each p/n. We spent the day lounging in the pool before catching our bus. Within that time we witnessed a distressing scene between a drunk Frenchman and the manager of the guesthouse. All you could really see was him shouting and swearing as they calmly told him what he’d done wrong. It was embarrassing to see that as another foreigner, it only takes a few cases to affect the image of the masses. The bus ride was cramped and long, the hot air blowing in through the windows was cooler and more efficient than the AC’s. Luckily Angry Birds was the one thing that worked on our new (broken) tablet. We arrived 4 or more hours late as expected, and settled in to the relaxed vibes. We entered into a conversation at one point in the night, with a ‘local dealer’ from East London. He told us stories of his 10 years in jail, his new start and ironically, his flower business back home that funds his travels. He began speaking to us as a ‘Connoisseur of Marijuana’, describing treatments, life-spans, effects, ladidadida. I zoned out and wandered off until realizing it was time for bed.

Kampot’s a beautiful little French Colonial Town, with a newly built, pristine highroad that leads directly to Bokor National Park. We’d decided to rent a bike for the day, the prospect of having a smooth road beneath us seemed inviting and the 2 hour ride was worth every minute. J was ill before the ride, the wake-up alarm ‘Say My Name’ was stuck in my head and it was hot. But the moment we got going everything was better. Pink, pungent  Bouganvillier lined the perfect road and the bends in the road were fun to ride. We thought we were heading off to trek past tigers and jungle, but our experience was rather surprising. We stopped off at huge water towers, a few old buildings that had been destroyed with graffiti and an ‘old casino’ over looking an expansive view of dense forest, sea and sky.  We meditated on specific spots and created visuals in the trees. A brand new Casino had just been built a few hundred metres away, so we thought we’d check out our luck on a few arcade games, for 10 minutes or so? That 10 minutes turned into hours, as the rain began pouring down and we realized we couldn’t ride our soaking bikes, so would just have to stay. After losing $5 to 3 games and not understanding why, I walked away from gambling and we ordered some of their extortionately priced food. We looked around and laughed. It was such a tacky place, purple velvet, a million patterns on every surface, over-dressed women and men, fancy dining room but not fancy food, the two best adjectives to destroy it would be fancy but fake. We entertained ourselves by running through the dark corridors of this huge casino, being watched at every turn by one of the many staff in the vicinity. A funny Italian man with no shoes ran up to us, obviously stuck in the same situation, jabbering on before running off again to have a 5 minute massage for $1. The rain finally eased and we shivered back down the slippery road to check out the local zoo, the sun was setting so we chose to skip it, raising our eyebrows as our bike slowed down halfway back from the zoo. We rolled ourselves over to a little wooden house, filled up our fuel tank and kept going, off to ‘The Rusty Keyhole’ for the ‘Best Ribs in Cambodia Award 2 years running’. We drove back along the bridge, with the river flowing away from us, and the multicolored collection of clouds spanning the sky. A few games of checkers and pool (with a blunt pool cue) later we were battling the mosquito’s out of our net and falling asleep.

Jack being massaged in P.P by the madame

The next morning a routine was established, breakfast, a swim in the lake, a meditation, a spliff. We sat over the river on a few planks of floating wood that had a table and a rubber ring on it to sit and eat breakfast. We booked our ticket to Sihanoukville and got in another hot, sweaty bus with no air flow, to finally arrive in stunning Snooky. It was full moon party soon so we thought about jumping aboard a boat to Koh Rong where it was all going down.. but the $20 put us off and the sea beckoned.We jumped in, gasping at how warm the water was (33 degrees!), it was more refreshing to stand on the beach. Exploring up and down the coast we bumped into our Canadians again, laughing and settling on drinks that evening.

Another sticky bus ride

The next day was supposed to be ‘Job Hunt day’ but being offered a puff of a strangers spliff (this 64 year old organic farmer from Tennessee that’s cycling around South East Asia alone – what a story!) and making new friends just prioritized itself and the mission got pushed back another day. The following morning productivity kicked in and we booked a boat cruise for $10 with our new mates, and got jobs (with game faces on). The full moon party was that evening so we hopped between a live house DJ on our beach to the crazy, greasy, grime of Serendipity – the party beach. We had $2 fish n chips with another couple outside the notoriously cheap hostel ‘Utopia’, and then we bumped into just about everyone who’d come this route – Luang Prabang, Vang vieng and the 4000 island crew. We raved all night on the beach and then jumped on a bike to get home. Halfway through our journey the driver freaks out and the tuk-tuk in front of us stops. Around us are hundreds of little shiny metal thumbtacks thrown across the road to burst tires (usually a ploy for mugging people) so I stuffed my money and camera down my shorts and walked over to the tuk-tuk with J that was taking us back instead – we arrived safe and sound.. :p We’d danced with prostitutes, played pool with lady boys and joked with drug dealers, it was all happening in Serendipity.

The ridiculous New Casino

The boat cruise was a good idea to just do something, it was fun seeing cheetah fish and mermaiding around the ropes, it was nice to have a few girls on the scene for a change. The best thing about travelling is meeting up with friends and doing things doesn’t require planning or stress. It either happens or it doesn’t – and it usually does. The Boat rocked over little waves in the turquoise ocean, the colors here couldn’t be any more beautiful. Emerald wooden boats over blue waters, green palm trees and fresh coconuts. It’s like Google images topped off with the odd HD sunset, the colour scheme going from dark purple to light orange/ pink across the sky. Various difficulties do exist in paradise, lighting anything on the beach (the wind is not your friend), the (sometimes) angry dogs, the sand flies, rubbish (that comes in the form of nasty fishing hooks, the odd syringe and needle and plastic bags – mostly due to the fisherman chucking out their waste) and power cuts (when the air’s still and the fan isn’t working in bed, eek!) but besides that we’re in our element here. You barely need any clothes or technology, the people we live and work with are lovely, our room’s great, the sand squeeks, our job’s social and the rest of our day is appreciated instead of wasted. The only dramas that have happened here so far is the other huge hostel on Serendipity 'Monkey Republic' being burnt down (burning the 3 adjacent shops in the process) and our motorbike being stolen, so that’ll be $650 dollars to replace..

There’s a Saturday night market here, where live music (didgeridoo’s, latin singers, tribal drummers etc) play, food, jewels and clothes are sold from little stalls and the bar’s in the corner. Everyone sat on straw mats, watched the live music and inhaled the whisps of night air. A& T had just been in a head on Tuk-Tuk collision so were a bit shaken up, on our ride back we had 7 of us squashed in, and their expressions weren’t exactly at ease. The next night at the psytrance rave they let loose a little and sat on the beach watching the lightening storm move across the sky with an open mind and crazy visuals, while I crashed out in our little room with a sore tummy. 

TopCat!

Night swimming here is incredible here, as the  bio luminescent plankton are out. They glow because of a chemical reaction 'chemiluminescents' that is caused because of an oxidation reaction with the 'luciferins' that create the glow - it's magical. We waded through the water with glowing bubbles appearing as we moved. You could make dragon balls, swords and swirly shapes, swimming underwater was like being in space watching a million stars run past you.. the vaist starry sky above us reflecting the vision. The light only travelled a short distance but other people were experiencing the wander too, so all that could be seen was a dark head floating eerily above the water. The paranoia of unknown sea creatures popping up around us kicked in, so we jumped out of our transfixed gaze and onto land. A & T were cozy for their last night in a mushroom  (bungalow’s shaped like shrooms) at ‘mushroom point’ and we headed back to our place. Work was interesting the next day, meeting a man that works with wormwood, a restricted product as of 2000, to brew his own absinthe and go around selling it to bars/ people in the area. He told us about it’s psychoactive and tummy healing properties. He was a character, tall and lanky with tattoo’s, dark clothes and long black hair, but he knew how to market his product! Our bar happily bought a bottle. We later ran into our old French family member S and our Vang Vieng boys D & T, catching up on the last few weeks of everyone’s adventures. Showing him the ropes and our favorite hang out spots, dodging cockroaches on the sofa and passing out in a hammock... we had a good evening.

A viewpoint in Kampot

On our day off we rented a bike and headed into town, panicking as the debit card was refused in all machines and realizing I was trying to use one that I’d cancelled already. Duh. So we drove back and forth, got money out eventually, explored the market, had a coconut sticky rice cake, drank a cold ice coffee, did a bit of shopping and went to ‘TopCat Cinema’s’. An incredible creation in which you pay $4 to have a private room with a flat screen TV and a huge bed, the biggest selection of movies, series, documentaries or play station games. Order your own pizza, crisps or drinks and settle down for hours. We bought a bottle of wine, smoked a J and watched ‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’ and ‘The Truman Show’ happily until our time was up. We enjoyed the AC, the cushions and the wine, appreciating the clean environment. We’ve got in with our bosses, made some good new connections,explored the town and are completely in love. I don’t know how we’ll ever leave, we're in Stuckville, but no one's complaining..

Recipe of the day: Chicken Amok

http://www.bigoven.com/recipe/250266/chicken-amok

A bottle in time

There he sat, round and solo

Drinking his beer with a sway.

A friend sat close, but in anyone's eyes

His presence was light years away.

The clock ticked, the alcohol flowed, 

We watched with devils eyes,

He walked around, a drink in hand,

Clinging to groups of guys.

He was joined at 11 by an older man,

But one could never tell,

As the beats progressed, the man sped up

As though under a magic spell,

His eyes were wide, his movements quick,

The people turned away.

And then, Alas! He found a friend,

He no longer jived astray.

The large one lunged, the small one hid,

Avoiding a drunk collision,

A hand on his shoulder, a walk to the door

The room swayed with blurry vision.

An hour later the man returned!

Not persuaded bed-time was near,

I looked away, with sorry eyes,

As he threw up all his beer.

In the background the other was zooming by,

No time to stop and chat!

While the poor man, leant over the bar

And belched and breathed and spat.

The tunes died down, the lights went off,

Speedy ran back home,

The drunk man turned to finally leave

And through the night, he continued to roam.

- a poem describing a moment of our last night in don det, Laos.

The last of Laos

The group's down to the original two and J. and I are getting used to not having Lads in every crack and crevice. Suddenly having to research and organize things ourselves, we've entered a rather uncomfortable realm. Usually it's B. with his lonely planet out, giving us directions about how much money we were all going to need for 'this' bus to 'there'. Now it was all up to us, what?
J and I sat on the bus on the way to 4000 islands, it had been an 18 hour journey since Vang Vieng where we'd said goodbye to the troops. The 'guide' at the front of the bus was shouting out the names of various islands between rather loud gibberish that no one understood. We heard '’Don Det’, for young people!' and decided that was our best bet. I looked at J. puzzled 'we're going to the beach right?' I was picturing 4000 sunny islands of paradise with palm trees and pina coladas. 'Jess Laos is Landlocked'.. oh. It turns out over 3000 of the islands are rock formations about the size of my hand, mangroves and mud line the sides of the rivers and the only really affordable island is ‘Don Det’, where we luckily landed ourselves. The other day we floated down tubes joking about how we’d organize our lives on these islands. ‘Grandma can sit on that one in her rocking chair, the rest of the family can go on ‘Don Khong’ (the island attached to ours)’ but the rule is never to cross the bridge. And all our mates would be on ours.’ So that’s a goal to work towards..

Our opinion of the island's changed since we've been here. At first it looks a little run down, hippy joints line the main street from the small beach/ port where the boats arrive, the guesthouses generally consist of a basic room, a bed and a fan, all you need really. The prices are more than the mainland due to import tax, especially the essentials: suncream, crisps and rizzla’s, it’s been difficult. But after a few days here, I have a new found appreciation for the place. We arrived, nackered after 18 hours and still groggy from the valium (a necessity for sleeper buses) and dumped our bags in our bungalow at ‘sunset guesthouse’ where we were paying $3 each a night, steep I know. We settled into the groove of the island pretty fast after a drink and a happy brownie at ‘Adams Bar’, our new favourite hang-out spot. They play any movie you want throughout the day and ‘Get Him to The Greek’ was the chosen one. Halfway through the movie we looked at each other and laughed, after slagging off the brownie it had finally kicked in, and the world was a happy place that then got happier after a munchathon of snickers, ice cream and all that good cholesterol building munch. It was funny sitting next to the roti truck, eyes red, mouths watering, to then bump into our opposites – a Canadian couple that we’d seen on and off since Hanoi where we’d bunked together. They walked passed, eyes red, with a bar of chocolate sticking out of C’s top left pocket. Haha, fate. We went back and paid for our food at Adam’s and were directed towards the managers bedroom. I opened the door to see a crate of marijuana, as she sat on her bed delicately picking the buds. The ‘normality’ of the situation just made me gape. On our return to our bungalow, the local insect community decided to welcome us and J. got fully involved in the mosquito war as the cockroaches proceeded to crawl out of the toilet seat, and the bins, and the windows. I lay still, on our bed, feeling the beats of the fan and taking deep breaths through the stifling heat. Our mosquito net was full of holes that kind of matched the holes in our walls and ceiling. The smell from the bathroom was getting too much so J. cello-taped all the cracks in the room, opened the windows and soon joined me, knocked out by the heat, we both lay there in heated dreams.
The next day started with our groups tradition, ‘coffee and Cigarrettes’ (roll the ‘R’ as you say it). A meditation and a swim in the lagoon later we’d rented bicycles and were off across the rickety bridges, bumpy roads and into the bamboo forests that were covered in ash from all the recent burning (they burn the bamboo/ foliage every year to fertilize the ground and make space for new crops). We discovered the waterfalls that gushed around us. They weren’t as ‘serene’ as Luang Prabang but the jagged rocks gave the place a pre-historic feel, dinosaurs would have made the scene complete. After a dip in the top of the waterfalls we made our way down to the bottom, passing a dark sunkissed man that sat inbetween two windswept rods of bamboo that made the perfect border around him. The colours were sandy and the heat was strong, it felt like we were in a desert, and the thought of my empty bottle of suncream made my skin glow. We walked down and found a few other backpackers baking on the beach. The swells in the water were strong and little whirlpools formed all over the place. The sun slowly sank and we cycled to the ‘viewpoint’ before heading back. Never have I seen such a vast expanse of sky and water, it was so still and serene with one or two long boats disturbing the flat water with a ripple or two – the pictures don’t do it justice. We rode back as the sun went down, spotting mini wind-tornado’s that swept up the dry leaves and dust. A full day in the sun had taken it’s toll, we’d stop now and then for breaks as our legs tingled and the world spun. We got back, realizing J. had lost his shirt, and after getting into a new one we met our Canadian couple for a long awaited dinner. The conversation flowed and lead to a game of kings cup, a drunken go at pool and an after party at the beach. Huddles of people crowded in the dark around little candles that had been dotted all over the beach. The flower fumes soon got too much and food was in order. 4 mad-eyed teenagers rampaged around town, asking every person, restaurant and shop if they had any food, we managed to scavenge yogurt, 6 baguettes and chocolate sauce – result. As we got back to our guesthouse we opened the bamboo barrier to get in and I jumped as the buffalo immediately herded their way inside, followed by a pack of barking dogs. We looked at each other in fear and slowly, with panicked eyes we walked back to our bungalow, arriving without a scratch.
The next day was ‘mong-day’, one of a few. We bought a bowl of flowers' that cost less than a bar of chocolate, and ended the day with a social drink at '4000 islands bar’ and a few familiar faces. We decided activities were in need and booked a kayaking trip for 8am the next morning with a group we’d hooked up with. With minutes to spare we jumped out of bed, having missed our alarm and made our way to breakfast that was part of the package. Somewhere between before and after breakfast, J’s shoes were stolen, so he walked barefooted towards the kayaks by the port. We hopped into double kayaks and headed down the lagoon, past the buffalo’s lapping water inbetween mangroves. ‘Check out those Pigs having sex!’ J. screamed out, motioning towards the river bank, the Japanese kayakers beside us roaring in laughter. We stopped at the small waterfalls that we’d been to a few days before, had a little cool down and hopped back in our kayaks to head to lunch. There were huge wooden contraptions all over the place that were used everywhere for catching catfish. The animal diversity isn’t big here, but they do have a lot of lizards. When we stopped for lunch we were greeted by little kids running around. A lot of the little boys held wooden sticks with a circle of plastic string at the end – used for catching lizards. As painful as it was watching them squash and throw around these lizards, it did make me smile seeing kids playing in nature as opposed to sitting in a cybercafé. We ate lush watermelon, banana’s and fried rice before hopping back in the water and kayaking to the border of Cambodia. At the border the guide told us all to stop rowing and look up, there we sat, in silence, as the Irrawaddy dolphins glided in and out of the water infront of us. They were eventually steered away by the motor boats that joined us but it was such an incredible moment that none of us expected would happen. We made our way to the ‘biggest cascade of waterfalls in south east asia’ that required a tuk tuk ride and a walk. As we arrived I look over at the rock with the best view to see a crowd of monks all in light orange attire admiring the waterfall. Behind them was white serenity. Foaming water over jagged grey rocks – we ran up to the rock with the monks and looked down, 2 bloated dogs floated beneath us, smashing against the sharp rocks in time to the waterfall’s blows. It was enough of a warning sign to remind us of the waterfall’s strength. After everyone had enough photo’s, we headed back to the river, where I made friends with a group of little girls – losing a wet towel to the current in the process :s. We arrived back, exhausted and sunburnt. We had a group dinner and a few flower fumes for ‘L’s last night’ as he slowly lay down with a smile after a happy brownie or two... The night ended typical J&J style, the only sounds that could be heard were the crunches of crisps and the rustling of packets.
We’d planned a mong day but made the effort to adventure on – renting tubes to float down the river, hopefully not missing the ‘last stop’ and ending up like the dogs at the bottom of the waterfalls that lay ahead. J. had bought a $1.50 bottle of tiger whiskey for St. Paddy’s day (on the bottle it read ‘Sweet and Mellon instead of ‘Mellow’, if they couldn’t spell their slogan right, was the percentage of alcohol wrong too?), the bottle was soon gone as it slipped through his hands and towards the muddy bottom in a matter of a minutes – probably best.
We fought the current and gave up, ending up back at the main port in a new group of people who we spent the rest of the night with at the ‘Herb Garden Party’ out in the rice fields. We all showered up and the boys sorted out their lost room key. It turns out they don’t have any spares here, so the manager walked up to the door, squeezed the lock, and it popped open. Fab security. Hair styles were all decided upon and the party begun with many rounds of ’21, bing bang boom, grunt’ etc. all managed without a deck-o-cards. Pizza was all baked in their make-shift clay oven, and the ‘unlimited till 9’ booze was in the bucket in the corner. The toilet was nifty, made out of bamboo with a bin of rice kernels to scoop in after your business was done. The host of the party was a couple that had been here for a year and looked a little loony. She was doing all the admin and looked at us with glazed eyes and huge pupils, her voice dragging out every word. We sat in a group and ‘Manny’ the manager of ‘Happy Bar’ walked over to us, a J in his hand and a cricket on his leg – his new friend, that was soon transferred to K. for the rest of the night (he stopped freaking out after 20 minutes). The dogs that continuously scratched their fleas all over the place proved to be a bit more of a nuisance than the cricket.. We woke up with a hang-over and it turned into another mong-day, lying comfortably in one bar and walking lazily to the next, waking ourselves up with a jolt as we jumped off the 5m plank outside ‘Reggae Bar’ into the Mekong. Tomorrow our Visa runs out so we’ve got to jump the border to Cambodia then.
I can’t believe we’re here already, our time with the lads in Vang Vieng went so fast, here goes an attempt at summing it up..
Vang Vieng was amazing. One day was spent at the swimming pool, hoping to get in without a ticket but having to buy one anyway, boys hanging their goods out over the rails to poor freaked out tourists on long boats, after-sun sessions and fish and chips for dinner, learning about Jn’s mayo obsession in all its glory. One day a huge group of us went cycling to the waterfalls that we never found, arriving home and looking for my wallet, (containing $400 and my debit card), that was never found and having group dinners in front of family guy or friends. The day after was a day for women – whether it was labour day or international womens day I don’t know, but it was awesome – women stumbling over each other by the Mekong, tubing down the river, completely.pissed. It was nice seeing the girls let loose for a change, stumbling men get boring after a while.. Showers were wasted in this weather as perspiration was endless. One night we agreed on fancy dress, pulling together the few scraps we had in our limited wardrobe for ‘Jungle Party’. The night started in the Irish Bar with some incredibly strong drinks, a few games of 21, a bonfire and a rave. The night ended with drunk kisses, tears and a sore heart... Feeling alone in someone’s company being the shittiest parts of travelling away from home... ‘Jn. the stripper’ lightened the mood, followed by a tied up T. a drunk Frenchman in the shower and a tomato on our ceiling – living with Lads is a laugh. The card was sorted out the next morning, and yet another trip to the police station was called for to get a report written – it was fast and efficient, the police here being 10x more helpful than in Vietnam. The night that followed was my last of being 18, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. We played darts at the Irish bar, danced at Buddha bar and shotted tequila at moon bar. 00:00 struck and the DJ played ‘Happy Birthday’ as I squeezed T. and J. for setting it up. That night we met Lala, avoided the creepy little drug dealer and I met my ‘sister’ who had the same ‘going out alter-ego as me’, exciting stuff. After closing time, our room was soon full again, and we somehow chose one phrase to learn in each of our languages, mumbling in Spanish, Dutch, French and Greek, our food hunt at 3am hadn’t been a success but our acquisition of new phrases had! The bedsheets were inked with multi-lingual ‘Happy birthday’s’ that we only remembered in the morning. (‘Neuken in de Keuken op de keukentafel’ is how you say our phrase in Dutch, if you were wondering ;) ) Daytime came, the police report was picked up and a big breakfast at the Irish Bar was called for. Cake and pressie time came around (& a free bottle of lao wine!) and I laughed as most of them had a message about ‘not losing anything’ on them.. we hopped in a tuk tuk and headed to the blue lagoon. Seeing an older group on the way who’d just falled off their bicycles and scraped a knee made us cringe as we thought back to a few weeks ago. The blue lagoon was beautiful, we floated in rings and swung off swings, ‘No smoking Weed’ signs scattered the place, a volleyball court to the left and a few metres above lay ‘Gollum’s cave’ that we explored for hours. At one point we all stopped to break, and got to know the guys we were walking with. Coincidentally we’re all sharing the same Halls at Leeds Uni – the world only gets smaller. We finally reached the lagoon again, just in time to watch a huge English guy jump from the highest branch of the tree, do a backflip and land perfectly in the rubber ring floating beneath him, it was the cherry on top of an amazing day. By the end of it, we were spent and in denial about leaving so we decided to stay an extra day while time was still on our side. Night time involved authentic pineapple crumble and a movie in bed.. our last night together.

Morning time came and adrenaline was ON. Coffee, cigarettes, packing, paying the manager who we’d never met, breakfast at the Irish bar (a last steak baguette), goodbyes, facebook details, bus station. Tears were shed as the family hugged goodbye and their bus headed away from us and towards Thailand. I looked forward to the video of my naked welsh choir singing ‘Happy Birthday’ with smiles on their faces, something that hadn’t happened the day before! J. and I boarded the hot sweaty bus, craving a cold shower. We had to be sensible and responsible now, checking for our passports and money as we arrived in Vientiene, the capital of Laos. We had a quick dinner, getting discounts for the cockroach in J’s soup, and got on the luxury double bed sleeper bus that had 4 bunks, passing out and arriving in Pakse for the last bus to 4000 islands. Soon we’ll be able to say been there Don Det but we’re gonna try and squeeze our visa’s dry and enjoy the last few hours before that time comes, Thank you Laos and family. x
 
 
Recipe of the day: Lao Green Curry
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GBKaeNiDldE