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Published: December 16th 2008
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We have found getting around in south-east Asia so easy. As long as you don't worry about the how, what and where's of the trip you will almost always make it from A to B but rarely by the route or in the transportation you had expected. So when we buy tickets we've stopped asking what kind of bus to expect. Local/not local, aircon/no aircon, mini bus/van, luxury sleeper/tuc tuc, toilet/no toilet it's never been what we were told. Leaving Phnom Penh we even had a picture on our ticket of the mini van we'd been told to expect only to be sheparded onto a huge old local bus with aircon that blew up after the first five minutes. On this basis we weren't surprised to find ourselves being loaded into a tiny van packed full of Cambodians for the first leg of our journey into Laos. We spent nearly an hour driving around Ban Lung picking up people and packages or, it seemed, stopping for the driver to pay a social call. Then at one cafe a new driver hopped in, cranked the Khmer pop songs up to bone-shaking level and we were off. Within half an hour we had
stopped feeling the vibrations from the base line as our bums were numb from the bumpy road and pretty soon we were enjoying the music. We were dropped off at Stung Treng with the words 'don't worry - one hour' so we did what we have learnt to do so well - chilled out and let others do the organising. Two mini vans, one tuc tuc, a boat, two border crossings later and we were on magical Dom Det.
After several weeks of fighting off touts every time we arrived at a new location it was something of a shock to stand on the beach and not be hassled by anyone. We all stood around at a bit of a loss then wandered off to have a Beer Lao.The next week on the islands was lovely - we booked what we considered to be the best room at the north tip of the island with its own completely little veranda and hammocks and then chilled out. We cycled some of the islands and generally relaxed - enjoying the lack of hassle and chatting to other tourists. When it came to leaving we decided we wanted to try to head north
by boat. We hired a boat to take us to Don Khong which was a wonderful two hour journey through the islands. Because Don Khong was the largest of the inhabited islands we had expected it to be much busier and this time there was a welcome committee - a herd of cows wandering the deserted main street. We found that the local boat was no longer running north and so instead the next morning we hopped onto a sawgthaew (local bus with wooden plank seating) for the next morning to take us to Champasak where we would stay and visit Wat Phu - a temple ruin that was an outpost of the mighty Ankor Wat.
The journey itself was great fun - shared with locals, ducks and monks. Each time we stopped anywhere the van would be inundated by people selling food on sticks - chicken, bat, eggs and all sorts of insects. We had to catch a tuk tuk and ferry and then another tuc tuc into Champasak and then cycled out to the beautiful, peaceful ruins that afternoon. Again the next day we headed out on a sawgthaew arriving in Pakse with plenty of time to plan
our next motorbike adventure out onto the Bolaven Plateau to visit coffee plantations and waterfalls. We planned a three day trip - staying at different places but when we hit beautiful Tat Lo and found a gorgeous cheap cottage to stay in we decided to stay put. Here we had two brilliantly undisturbed nights sleep - having been woken by kareoke (at 5:30 am every morning in Dong Det), cockerells (at 3am pretty much everywhere we had stayed) and the Lao habit of getting up at about 4:30 am and making as much noise as possible. We were very, very safe on our bike - taking it very easy. While the main roads were in great condition the smaller ones were in bad shape and we had to take it very slow -particularly because of all the animals - pigs, cows, chickens, dogs- running around in the villages. So when we did fall off - thanks to a large bump in the road- we were going so slowly the only thing damaged were Zoe's jeans, and the only trauma caused was to the local villagers who were distraught at us falling off in their village. This was in part due
to Eric's response to the fall. While Zoe was hobbling around wondering how she would explain to her sister that not only had she 'borrowed' her jeans to go traveling in, she had also ruined them, Eric was executing a magnificent, completely unnecessary, Steven Segal style tumble roll through the village which lasted about five minutes. It took at least another five minutes to convince the awestruck villagers we were fine and five more before we could restore them to their usual smiling, waving, 'sabi deeee!'-shouting selves. Fully fledged bikers we returned to Pakse ready to head onto Ta Kaek and the bit of backpacking/motorbiking legend known as "The Loop".
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