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Published: November 30th 2006
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I flew from Hanoi to Vientiane, an hour's flight on a knackered old Vientamese Airlines plane that saved us a potentially tortuous 24 hours on an even more knackered local bus and landed safely to meet Emily (again, that's the seventh time and counting) under the national monument, rather romantically, which resembles the Arc de Triomphe. Well, a dark grey concrete ugly version built from donated concrete from the Americans after the war, supposedly intended for a new airport. It sits at the end of a wide tree lined boulevard though, giving the illusion of the Champs Ellyses, except replacing the crazy French in their 2CVs with hordes of tuk-tuks. Vientiane is noticably much much quieter than Hanoi though and the people way more relaxed which was a welcome relief. Emily only had the weekend free from her job teaching English to monks just over the border in Thailand so we hoped straight on a bus and headed up to Vang Vieng, about four hours drive.
Vang Vieng is a small little town, full of restaurants and bars to serve the hordes of backpackers (whom we seem to have been without for the past two months). It sits on the
backs of the Namsong river, its main draw, as well as the stunning lush green hills surrounding it with their associated caves and lagoons. People come to Vang Vieng to go tubing. You rent a truck inner tube and are taken by tuk-tuk about 3kms away upstream whereby you jump into the river and float down it surrounded by the most stunning scenery. If that wasn't relaxing enough, every fifty metres or so there's a bar on the banks, ranging from a man just selling Beer Lao from a crate to huge bars with big seating areas, loud music (if you like Bob Marley on repeat all day) and swings and zip wires suspended way up in the air from which you can swing out in the water to the applause of the audience as people drop from considerable heights into (as well as onto the water rather than a graceful dive when they belly flopped, which always received the biggest cheer). Everyone takes about three or four hours floating back to town, all being considerably drunker after many Beer Laos and Lao Lao (more rice wine). We did this a couple of times and were still not bored.
Vientiane
Really bigging themselves up, just read the text We also went for a mammoth bike ride along a really bumpy and endless road to one of the caves where we were rewarded by an equally difficult climb up a steep slope, particularly difficult in flip flops. The cave was huge but also really dark so you couldn't see a lot, particularly bad when we trod in a huge mud puddle and almost fell over. We got to the bottom of the hill relieved and jumped in a really deep lagoon outside with a beer which was so refreshing before our return bike ride which went suprisingly faster after a few beers.
Apart from that we just chilled out by the river and got drunk in the evenings, partying on an island in the middle of the river which you reach by crossing over one of the many homemade bamboo bridges that sway and bend as you walk. It's so nice here, we've been a week and we could spend weeks longer but we have to leave at some point.
I've been procrastinating about getting my haircut for ages, doubting the knowledge of the local barbers and scared I'd either get a mullet or some other horrendous
throwback but the time had come and losing the ability to see clearly through my long hair I was either going to have to get it cut or get dreads. Not relishing minging matted hair I sought out a barbers, easily recognisable because they usefully put up a sign saying 'Barbers' outside their shop. I found one, but became a little worried when instead of a long line of waiting customers there was just a man repairing his small fishing net. I'd clearly stumbled upon the only man trained in both fishing techniques as well as cutting edge styling techniques (see what I did there?) in the world. I sat in his chair, well at least he seemed to have one of those upy downy barber's chairs which was a good sign, and got ready to tell him in my best sign language what I wanted done. Well, there was no need. He simply reached behind me and grabbed a pair of clippers and simply said "What number", the only line he obviously decided he needed to learn. So there it was, five munites later, with huge clumps of hair, that had formally been attached to my head, all over
the floor I walked out with very short hair indeed. Oddly as I looked around me I noticed more and more other shaved head types, clearly the Lao haircut is the only option......
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