hmm... a little bit tardy.

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Well hello to everyone and anyone that has received my email and can find it in their heart of hearts to read about Amy and I's adventures in, for the moment anyway, South East Asia. We have been away for exactly a month now, and, as you can see from the title of this particular, elongated, entry I am continually backtracking in order to allow my slow-off-the-mark brain to catch up with our seemingly whirlwind trip. We had a few days recently where we just decided to relax and enjoy not thinking about the following days activities, and in those few days I managed to catch up on the 16 days worth of diary entries that I had up to that point, umm, not done. So anyway, about another week later, here I am trying to keep you all in the loop about what we have been up to*. Amy and I decided a while ago that we were going to go travelling, and with little idea about where or when (our first plan was a road-trip across America), we went into STA travel and the helpful Emma basically decided our trip for us. So, for those of you that don't know, we are covering SE Asia in the first two and a half months, flying into Bangkok and out of Singapore. From there we spend a couple of weeks in Bali, then onto Alice Springs (for Uluru) and then to Cairns, spending the next four weeks making our way down the East Coast to Sydney. All in all we are in Oz for about 6 weeks, then off to New Zealand (into Christchurch and out of Auckland 4 weeks later), and then Fiji for the two weeks around my birthday (its going to be hard, but I will bear it as best I can). Finally we fly to LA, before flying out of Mexico City seven weeks later. All in all we are away for 7 months, returning to the UK on the 1st of June.
So, there you go. Sorry to bore those who already knew this, but had to set the scene for those of you who I didn't get much chance to speak to over the last year or so. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my entries, any feedback would be most appreciated as, what some of you might find as a bit of a surprise, I have decided to pursue a career in Journalism and am enrolling at college in London to do a post-graduate diploma in September. They told me I needed to do a bit of work experience before I started and, although this doesn't strictly count, hopefully this will give me a feel for regular reporting (of sorts?).
Enjoy.

*if you want to catch up on what we have been up to before my journal begins, please feel free to check up on Amys travelblog at www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/AmyDJ which I am sure will put mine to shame. I might eventually get round to writing my own version, but I'm never one to make extra work for myself.


Monday 14th November - Wednesday 16th November
Chiang Mai (Thailand) - Luang Phabang (Laos), henceforth LP

After an energetic few days trekking through the northern Thai jungles, chatting to indigenous hilltribes and even more incomprehensible fellow trekkers, we booked oursleves an all-inclusive (don't be fooled by that word, it does not always mean fancy) trip to Luang Phabang in Laos. It basically included the minibus transfer to the Laos border (Chiang Kong), overnight accomodation there, food, and the slowboat ticket to Luang Phabang. We were picked up from our guest house (which, much to my delight, was called Eagle House) at midday by possibly the dodgiest minibus of our trip so far, driven by what seemed to be the inept henchman from a dozen 70s kung-fu movies. The tires screeched round corners, which the driver attacked with surprising zeal, and the engine decided it couldn't take upward gradients of above 5 degrees and so cut out at every such opportunity. We thanked our lucky stars when we arrived into Chiang Kong at about 5:30pm, and after our included dinner, got out of the slightly unfriendly guesthouse with haste. We sat and had our last Chiang beers across the road at a bar run by one of those Northern Europeans who have emigrated to the backs and beyonds of Thailand to run a questionable business for questionable reasons. We had the bar to ourselves, apart from another English couple who turned out to be Nick (a tree surgeon with 9 years experience) and Marie (a modern dance lecturer) who had been travelling for six months; so we got to pick the movies.
We got up early the next morning (I could be repeating that a lot) and jumped in the back of a pick up on the direction of the old man with the stained wife-beater who apparently owned the guest house. At the border point we paid the immigration man for giving us the stamp we all crave, and then were herded into the little boat that would ferry us across the no-mans land stretch of the Mekong river across to Huay Xai. In Laos! Woohoo! On the other side we were further shepherded into a Lao tuk-tuk, a totally different kettle of fish from the relative plushness of the Thai variety, and blundered our way to the slow boat pier down the road. By this time we had picked up Sanj (a brummie of Indian origin who was four weeks into a 12 month round the world jaunt on his own), and Antje (a German girl on a six week vacation after completing her phd) and we were helpless to the old man who appeared seemingly from a tree and insisted on relieving us of our passports for the umpteenth time and disappearing back into the woods apparently handing them over to some more immigration bandits. As yet we have not seen anything to confirm our suspicions, do look after any random Laotians you meet purporting to be me. The slow boat left about an hour later, bang on Lao time, and we got comfy on the cushions they provided. The scenery at first was incredible - obscurely shaped verdent hills disected by the chocolatey brown Mekong - but after about half an hour the lack of comfort induced an appearance of sameishness to our surroundings. This monotony was only broken by the speed boats that all the guide books warn against taking (despite only taking 6 hours to LP instead of 2 days) due to their surprising accuracy in crashing into rocks! These peices of hollowed-out wood connected to V2 rockets could be heard for 5 minutes, seen for 5 seconds, then heard again for 5 minutes. Did I wish I was on one of them? Kinda. We arrived at Pakbeng, the only town of notable size between Huay Xai and LP and our overnight stop, six hours after our departure. We had booked our accomodation earlier on the recommendation of our Rough Guide (henceforth RG) and made our way to Bounmy GH because it was "flashy". Staying the night there Amy and Luke (henceforth AL) concluded it was "b****y aweful" and decided never to trust RG again.
Well, despite not too bad a sleep, and a decent enough Indian meal the night before, the general consensus was that we could not wait to, as RG puts it "be sipping lattes in LP in no time". Unfortunately no time turned into at least eight hours as the boat that we embarked upon the second morning was older, slower and generally made more stops in unusual places to pick up unusual cargo and/or passengers. The tedium and numbness only increased under these circumstances and when the rain came it didn't dampen our spirits - far from it - it gave us a couple of minutes excitement as we tried to work out how to unroll the rain covers. When we finally arrive in LP, despite our better judgements and previous nights' experience, we go for the guest house that sounded the best in our RG, and when it was full, desperation started to set in as Amy had developed a full on cold from the trekking we had done in Chiang Mai and the two days on the boat had battered her into submission. We decided on a nice little place called Song Phet down a little alleyway with lots of other little guest houses and little restaurants. And, low and behold, there wasn't a sleazy drug dealer or manky room in site. The proprieter of the guest house was possibly the smiliest man in the world and the luxury of a clean room with clean sheets and gallons of hot water should not be underestimated. The four of us went out for dinner at some sukhi steamboat BBQ specialist restaurant that we just stumbled upon on the side of the road, and settled down for some sumptious self cooked food.

Thursday 17th November - Friday 18th November
Luang Phabang

4:00am wake-up call from the monsters in my stomach caused apparently from the not so nice meal the night before...... When we got up properly, although I hadn't got much sleep after 4, we had a nice solid bread-based breakfast and I decided I could handle walking around LP to get a bit of a feel for the place and maybe go in a few places. LP is a UNESCO world heritage site which basically means that it is very nice, but more specifically means that people with genuine interest for the historical value of the place help fund the restoration of old buildings in a way that doesn't betray their original status. Also these people monitor the development made by the city to accomodate the external popularity (garnered sometimes by the cities position as a UNESCO site), as well as monitoring the behaviour of the tourists and their representatives. Apparently UNESCO has the power to deny visas to foreigners for a while if they believe that the tourism is harming the city. This somehow seems to be a bit of a self-contradiction because presumably the country, which is one of the poorest of the world, should have the right to benefit financially from tourism. However, as someone we met, who turned out to be UNESCOs representative in LP, told us, only the relative fat-cats of Laos make any money from tourism in their country and none of it goes back to those who need it most, the ruralites who have an average annual income of $50! We wandered round the Royal Palace Museum, but decided not to pay the entrance fee because the article of most interest, the emerald buddha statue called the Phabang, which gave the city its name, was situated outside. (Stingey?) We walked all the way around the peninsula, formed by the conversion of the Mekong and Nam Ou rivers, upon which the old city is located, saw a few temples, and had to sit down a few times as my strength began to leave me. We then decided to splash out and do as the RG told us and met Sanj and Antje at Joma, a coffee shop in the Starbucks mould, and ate cake. For dinner, my stomach and I were particularly awkward and decided to drag everyone else to the third restaurant that we had sat down at, and we were collectively disappointed at the imitation Hawaian pizza that was served. Oh well, bed solved my first illness of the trip!
The next morning we woke ridiculously early and followed a German lady we had met to see the daily ritual of monk-feeding (called Binthabat) where the monks of the town walk down the main road where the locals, and several tourists, donate food into their outstretched baskets. The monks live a spartan life and this is the only food they get for the day - the locals who donate food do so to further their claims for enlightenment through the progression provided through reincarnation. The German lady, who was called Irene, was seemingly a bit of a hippy, and she sat down with a bag full of baguettes and doled them out to the first 50 or so monks. The other foreigners, however, acted with varying degrees of respect and solemnity - some thrusting their ridiculously large zoom lenses into the faces of the youngest monks just to get that picture to show the relatives back home. But at what cost, both to the poor little monk, and to the reputation of travellers and holiday makers? Irene said she had been at a monastery one morning chatting to the abbot when the Binthabat procession came to an end. The youngest monk was in tears, presumably caused by a similarly prying foreigner, and the abbot, after consoling him, explained that this happened alot and caused them all some grief. Straight after the procession (it went on for ages, I didn't know their were that many monks in the country, let alone just one city), we climbed up Mt. Phousi (pronounced with a hard 'p' sound), a holy hill in the middle of the city, to get a bit of perspective of the city. It was a lot bigger than our little traveller enclave allowed! Right, now those with hygienic sensitivities and possibly Mum and Dad, best not read on for the next few lines. Apparently if a Lao person is to be hospitalized and need blood, they have to pay $20-$40 for the pleasure and with the annual salary in mind, they encourage donations to try to waive this fee. I decided to do my bit. The poster said I got a free T shirt, but I did it purely for compassionate reasons. The surgery was not quite upto western standards (re dirty and funny smelling), but Amy, who was entertaining the nurse's kid while she was doing her bit with my arm, assured me that the needle was as sterile as they came. The kid and his aunt were eating watermelon seeds, watching some day time TV, right next to where I was losing a pint of blood. The T shirt is very cool though. We relaxed after that before the four of us chartered a boat (oh yes, the slow boat had not quite put us of completely) to go across the river to a temple up on a hill called Chom Phet, to watch the sunset across the city and the gilded golden temple rooves. Despite the little girls pestering us with songs and supplicating hands, it was a very spectacular hour. We treated ourselves to an hour long Lao massage for $3 and then dinner on the waterfront, although Sanj had apparently caught the same sort of bug as me.

Saturday 19th November - Monday 21st November
LP - Vang Viang (VV) - Vientiane

Took a minibus to VV, booked through our beeming GH owner, and oh! the luxury. To make things even better, Amy, Sanj and I bagged the front row of seats, so had nearly full leg-stretching potential. However our initial glee was slowly eroded as we winded up and up towards the upper ether and then winded slowly back down again. Sanj somehow managed to read throughout, by I managed about two pages of the RG before giving in to nausea, and I didn't have it nearly as bad as some: a poor Dutch girl (we've seen Dutch people everywhere, do they not like it at home or something?) was sick out of the window and had to swap seats with Antje who was in the front seat. When we arrived in VV, a little travellers habitat situated further down the Mekong between impressive limestone karst formations (big weird shape mountains to you and me), we had the luxury and time of wandering around a few GHs while one person was left to guard the bags. The GH we settled on, Dok Khoun II, which was clean and cheap, was backed, curiously, by a gravel field that stretched as far as the shortsighted eye could see. Apparently it was the airport formerly, but now looked like the perfect destination for bored bus drivers to perfect their donutting skills. After sitting out a small torrential downpour, we went for a wander around town, which certainly was interesting. It was lined with bars and restaurants packed to the rafters with underdressed 'falangs' (foreigners) lounging in front of Friends or the latest pirate movie release, sipping their 'special' milkshakes and munching on their 'special' pizzas. Apparently there is a bit of a drug problem in VV, not surprising as we are yet to see any police in Laos, and the restaurants openly have a section on their menu for 'happy, funny, special food' and offer Opium tea on their drinks menu. We ate that night like we were at a Roman banquet (kind of): reclining at the table, Amy and I had a very tasty pizza and a very tasty first Lap (the Laos speciality of minced chicken, chilis, garlic, spring onions and lemon) with sticky rice. Also managed to find a bar showing the NZ game, and we watched it amongst loads of Kiwis who apparently only make themselves known when a rugby game is on.
The next day, three of us decided to go tubing. A bit of a phenomenon in Laos, with VV as its capital, basically you sit in a tractor inner tube and float down the river. (Amy decided to give it a miss to get over her cold) Every five minutes or so there is a cluster of wooden constructions with locals draped all over them shouting "Beer Lao, jumping, music, Lao-Lao". The last one is the local version of whisky, so steering clear of that we had a couple of Beer Lao stops. Otherwise, apart from the odd rapple (not quite a rapid, but a bit more than a ripple), it was a bit dull, and because it was a bit overcast, it was a bit cold. I even helped myself to a healthy scratch from a protruding rock. We went back to same place for dinner and had another Lap, and not much else happened of note until later that night, when we were sound asleep, a group of people started banging on our door and trying to look in the windows as if they were trying to get in. It was actually quite scary as they seemed to have real intent; intent of what we still don't know, but I, helpfully, fell back to sleep pretty quickly and Amy had a couple of hours of petrification before she slept again.
VV was probably a worthy stop for those who had been travelling a while, but for us, as we had only just got going and didn't really miss luxuries as much as some, it was just entertaining for its blatant flaunting of the law and the idleness of its visitors. We got a minibus to Vientiane the next day, and, although it was not nearly as nice as the last bus, we arrived happily back into Laos a couple of hours later. We decided on a GH by the main road by the river and went to watch the sunset from a little bar on the grass. We went for dinner with Antje and Bernie (an Irish doctor en route to a placement in New Zealand) at a food stall on the river and had a very spicy, but somewhat salty Lap. Afterwards we all met Sanj for a drink in a bar that is apparently the centrepoint for falang social life in Vientiane. Called Khop Chai Deu ('Thank you' something, maybe 'God'?!?), it was quite eye-opening after the previous few days bar experiences, with attentive service from Americanized waiters, and a horde of expats sat at the bar being entertained by the, very Thai, Lao ladies of the night.

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