Chapter 8: Catch Up

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So according to this blog, we just arrived in Luang Prabang, Laos. But I must admit I've been slacking on the updates. In actuality, that was about three weeks ago. Since then we've floated through Laos, skipped across Cambodia and lounged on Koh Samet (an island in SE Thailand). Allow me to catch you up to date...

Luang Prabang:
A small town on the Mekong River with architectural evidence of a French colonial past. After sunset, the night market takes over as falangs whip out their wallets for silks and souveniers. When midnight strikes, the town literally shuts down and there's absolutely nothing to do but retire to your guesthouse for Beerlao and HBO.

We spent two days in Luang Prabang resting after our 44-hour slowboat adventure. It's crazy because everyone from the boat swarms the town and you feel like a local cause you know everyone on every corner. One day we took a tuk-tuk about an hour outside of town to the most amazing waterfall I've ever seen, with water more turquoise than the gem itself. The next day we rented bicycles and cruised around town under a barrage of rain-bullets (no petty drizzle here). That night we dined with Cat and Andy on some delicious Lao BBQ. It ain't BBQ in the southern sense we're used to (as BBQ to these people simply means "grilled"), but still delicious nonetheless.

All in all, Luang Prabang was a pretty sweet place. Not much mischief to get in to, but still a great place to relax.

Vang Vieng:
A small party town where falangs from around the world (but mainly Britain) gather to go tubing under the watchful eye of tall tree-covered crags.

On our way to our guesthouse (we being the Texas trio + Cat and Andy) we met Yorick--a crazy dutchman who smokes like a fiend and drinks beer at any hour of the day. And so the crew grew to six. And our guesthouse was sick by the way! Small bamboo bungalows overlooking the river and mountains, volleyball net, restaurant and TV lounge area. This place was also pretty much run by kids. The madam being Pang, a bossy little ten-year-old of a businesswoman. The first few hours of our stay were spent reclining, dining and watching The Devil Wears Prada (obviously not our choice of flic, but in the end, reassuring in my belief that materialism is the devil). The tables would turn however, and the next 24 hours would symbolize and epitomize the rowdy revelry that was to insue.

At 100am that night we all awoke from our 3-hour naps to catch the Euro Cup final between Germany and Spain. To make things interesting, John and I wagered 20,000 large on the game (ok, ok, 20,000 kip, not dollars. That's still a whopping $2.50 though!). I had Spain, so John took Germany. After convincing one of the young girls who ran the guesthouse that the night's lightning storm hadn't fried her TV, we had the idiot box shining and the pre-game show under way. We also had the pleasure of watching this crucial game beside Tim, a traveling German with a real reason to cheer. Or curse, as it would turn out.

Two short hours later, Tim had gone from "not drinking" to angry and beligerant; Andy was acting like a waster Irishman; Yorick had smoke a whole pack of cigarettes (and was still smoking); Spain was crowned Euro Cup 2008 champions; and we were staring at two empty bottles of vodka and a half empty (or full, depending on how you look at it) bottle of whiskey. So at 400am we all went back to sleep for a few hours, completely unaware of what lied ahead.

After breakfast we headed to town to do the only thing people do in Vang Vieng--tubing. Leigh had told me it was pretty crazy ("imagine tubing in San Marcos, but with bars lining the river"), but nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see/experience.

True, there were bamboo bars and rope swings along the muddy riverbanks, but not like I'd expected. I'd imagines jolly Laotian women exchanging bottles of Beerlao for handfuls of kip and sending you on your way down the river. Not so. I'd also envisioned a pretty standard rope swing dangling from a tree branch overhead. Not so. Unfortunately I don't have any visual evidence to support my claim (since lugging a $600 camera into a river didn't sound like such a good idea), but maybe you can find something floating around on youtube about it. Anyway, this place made every Mexican spring break destination look like Jesus camp.

I don't mean there were dumb ditzes flashing people left and right (although I wouldn't complain if there had been), but rather this place was one giant mile-long party marked by eight or so bars along the river without one iota of authority in sight. Each bar was like a massive treehouse with a hundred wild falangs bouncing around to blaring techno music. Every bar also had a huge platform at least 20-feet high with a trapeze as a rope swing (now this was a real rope swing!).

To lower inhibitions about the dangers of the rope swing and increase tolerance for techno music, these bars sell "buckets" for dirt cheap. Basically, a bucket (or as I like to call them, 'the devil') is your choice of liquor (whiskey or vodka) plus a bottle of M-150 (like Red Bull) and a bottle of Coke or Sprite. And boy are these things loaded with liquor!

'Twas amusing to observe tubers' progression from sobriety at bar #1 to sloppiness at bar #4, and finally, black-out mode by bar #7. It's amazing people don't drown tubing in Vang Vieng. Actually, I hear a few falangs do drown every year. But far fewer than I'd expect. And to think there's no insurance policy or legal repercussions on any of this.

Luckily we're experienced drinkers from Texas and we all made our mistakes long ago and knew when enough was enough. However I can't say we escaped unscathed. John did manage to cut his legs up pretty bad after slippin on some rocks. Not to mention a few backflops from 20-30 feet above water level never feels good the next day.

So after two days of frat-tastic debauchery we called it quits on tubing and decided to go trekking. We rafted and stomped through rice fields. But the highlight (and real purpose of the trek) was crawling through a couple pitch black caves lit only by our dismal headlamps.

Vientiane:
Our launch pad for Cambodia. We stopped there for a day to celebrate the 4th of July like obnoxious Americans should. Cat, Andy and Yorick became honorary Americans for the day and we all went from bar to bar drinking beer and and eating ribs (we made it our mission to eat as if we were having an all-American cook-out). After a while we hit up the all-too-popular town bowling alley. We were terrible. John won by a single point...with a whopping 97!

Some ironic Indepence Day moments:
Going to a bar called "Carlesberg" with Carlesberg signage plastered everywhere and not being able to even order a delicious Carlesberg.

Drinking in a British bar on the 4th while listening to "Born in the USA" by Bruce Springstein.


Cambodia:
So if you thought our 44-hour slowboat ride sounded rough, it turned out to be silky smooth compared to the equally as long transit from Vientiane to Siem Reap. Instead of two days drifting down the Mekong with friends and Beerlao, this excursion consisted of sitting by your lonesome squeezed into a tiny bus seat bouncing down the worst roads in the world (if you can even call those things roads).

However, we endured, and after a night's stop in Kratie, we arrived in Siem Reap. By the way, never go to Kratie. Why? It's damn dirty and smells worse than a Thai whore (not that I'd know from experience or anything). Plus their alleged "tourist center" is an empty building run by people who speak no english and can offer you no map or any useful information at all. The only memorable moment of our stay was watching a 3-year-old girl attempt to mount a motorbike with a 24oz beer in hand. And where were the overprotective parents you ask? I was wondering the same thing myself.

So we spent a couple days in Siem Reap buying cheap hammocks and paintings. Oh yeah, not to mention a day checking out the ancient temples of Angkor, all built between the 9th and 14th century. The sheer size and intricacies of these structures was simply stunning. Every wall, every column, every archway was stenciled with upmost precision. And it still showed in detail today!

After spending just the smae amount of time in Cambodia as it took us to get there, we took off for the islands of southern Thailand. I'm upset that I didn't flash my camera and capture some of the stunning desolation and poverty that ravishes the Cambodian countryside before we left. At first I thought Thailand was bad. Then I thought Laos was impoverished. But neither were as heart-wrenching as Cambodia.

Koh Samet:
Our first island. Not much to say except we played a lot of cards and pool. Met some more cool peeps. Had our first day of diving. I would love to divulge more, but honestly I've been sitting here typing for about an hour and a half and I'm sweaty and thirsty and still have to upload pictures for jewsguys. So that's all you get for now. Maybe I'll elaborate more later.

By the way, in case you haven't noticed, I've cancelled the "week in review" column. Partly cause I don't have time, but mainly because I've lost all sense of time and all the weeks just blend together. I'll try to write more frequently, but internet is mad expensive on the islands and I hate writing just to write. When I think of something worthy of elaborating upon, you'll know.

Until next time,
peace to the middle east.
-Marc-

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