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Published: November 8th 2006
Our
tuk-tuk arrived at the dustbowl that was Pakse's southern bus station (halfway there, the first one had broken down and the driver had arranged another lift for us at no extra cost). The
tuk-tuk hadn't even stopped when a bloke jumped onto the back and asked where we were headed. "Don Deth," we announced (it's pronounced Don Det, so it's not as ominous as it looks), and he indicated the
sawngthaew (read: pickup-truck-converted-into-a-large-
tuk-tuk) next to us, already about 1/3 full with unripe bananas. Almost simultaneously, an older guy reached in and tapped me on the shoulder, and with a roll of his eyes indicated the larger coach on the other side, waving me over. "Eleven dollar," he told me.
Well, the banana-laden
sawngthaew was only 3 dollars, so what the hell, eh? Our bags were lashed onto the roof beside an even bigger pile of unripe bananas while squeezed into the back of, alongside numerous the locals. I picked up some sticky rice for the journey (since the peanut journey I always come prepared) and soon enough, we were off.
Long journey. About 4 hours later, we were asked to stepp of the truck so the bananas could be unloaded. I climbed up the side and helped offload the mfrom the roof, to cries of "
falang chuay-duay," which approximately translates to "the foreigner helps," and I got a free bunch of bananas for my trouble. Eventually, we took a fishing boat from a village at the end of a side-road that was more pothole than road (the trucks can't go over about 10 miles an hour - no exaggeration - as they meander their way left and right around the worst of it) and found a chalet in a guesthouse on the "sunset side" for US$2.
The sunset was nice. It wasn't huge and it wasn't breathtaking, but the light stuck a very clear, well-defined line across the water as the great red orb sank below the distat island. As the Sun went down in the west, a harvest moon rose in the east. We ate on the "sunrise side", in one of the numerous restaurants there with platforms over the river, the river glistening in the moonlight. Very romantic. When the moon rose higher, I turned my attention to the lively little kitten that was viciously attacking my bag, demonstrating it's fearsomely cute prowess as a hunter. Later, we played cards in a bar with a couple we'd met visiting Wat Phou. And later still, returning to our hotel, a dog from the bar sort of following but sort of ignoring us, as we were readied our torch for those dark unlit lanes, we realised we wouldn't need it - the full moon was directly overhead in a clear sky. A minute or so after leaving he lit bar, we noticed that the whole scene was bathed in that eerie, pale lunar half-light. I've never seen it so clear before, never seen my shadow so well-defined in moonlight like that. It's hard to tell if Rex saw anything unusual in this, but I guess it happens at least several times a year for him. He seemed more concerned with checking for scent, chasing chickens and licking his bits.
We spent 2 full days on the island - doing not-a-lot for the first. The second day, we rented bicycles and cycled over the bridge to neighbouring Don Khone. This one's a bit bigger - the tracks are more then footpaths and I saw hints that there might have been a car or two on the island. There was a waterfall within cycling distance, which was nice. We spent a few hours exploring the smaller trails before heading back for a late, tired and slightly dehydrated lunch. That evening (last night), we happened upon French David (again, again, again) and ended up sitting outside our chalet with a few other of our serial aquaintances until the wee hours.
The next morning, the
sawngthaew back to Pakse (from where we're catching an overnight bus to Hue, Vietnam tonight) was filled with sleeping chickens and dripping rattan baskets that smelled of fish. Give me bananas any day. The journey was much shorter this time. I heard an older Texan (or maybe he was from Alabama or Mississipi, but given that his main topic of conversation seemed to be about oil drilling, I'll assume he's Texan) somewhere on the truck said "travel in Thailand is much more civilised" and remarked that this is what I both love and hate about Laos - the sense of adventure that comes from the alien way in which passenger travel is combined with general freight and courier services.
As a post-script to this entry, it should be noted that upon our return to Pakse, in almost the same place as before, our tuk-tuk broke down. If you've read my Vang Vieng blog entry (entitled "I Blame the Peanuts...") then you'll understand why I'm starting to get rather superstitious about this now. This time, however, the driver was merely fiddling with an electrical connection for 3 minutes before he managed to get the engine to sputter into life.
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Joss
non-member comment
wow
I know that moonlight. we had it at dartington a few nights ago (probably the same night, sort of). it was great we did the forest path all the way to totnes at about 2am and didnt use the torches! out in the open our shadows were so defined. i kept looking at my watch to check i hadnt lost a few hours and the sun was about to rise. never seen it so light at that time. it was like that the next nigh on the way back from the Rat as well! keep writing, bro. i love reading these. you should consider writing as a career path when you get back. seriously. JossXXX