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Published: February 21st 2008
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Tay Trang border crossing
Our crazy bus from Laos to Vietnam Border crossing at Tay Trang, Dien Bien Phu & Lai Chau 30-31 Jan 2008
Culture shock. We never thought that after everything in Thailand and Laos, there would be anything left to shock us in this part of the continent. Yet, before we even stepped over the Vietnamese border our senses told us that things would be much, much different. It was during our first days in this new country that we felt further away from the world we know than ever before.
Sure, Vietnam is a great place to visit. Had we arrived the usual way our first impressions would have been of a beautiful, welcoming country full of people who are only too glad to help you out and see that you enjoy your holiday.
We didn't arrive the usual way. We came over the mountains from North-Eastern Laos with a busload of raw meat, rice, banana leaves, red bull boxes and merchants from local tribes. We arrived via a border that until recently was open to only locals, while watching an eclictic combination of soft porn and Communist party DVDs courtesy of our bus driver, who's ability to see though fog was the only thing standing
Propaganda
Billboard in Dien Bien Phu promoting the communist party between me and a long drop.
After reaching the Lao village of Muong Kua via river boat, we overnighted and enjoyed a touring 'Lao Idol' concert from our bedroom window. Setting out the following morning we came upon one of the four buses that does the Dien Bien run each week (a stroke of luck, or so we thought!). After paying the driver and taking up a seat, our personal space began to shrink and shrink. By the time we got going we were sardines, and had I not been able to jemmy the window open with my clasp knife we may not have made for the lack of air.
The past days of rain had obviously eased the dust on this bumpy, windy, mountainous gravel road, but it had also made the edges a little soft. Horrified, we past an elbow-like corner where two trucks had met not long before and where one of them now lay, front-end down about 40m down the cliff in a tangle of vines, after the inside edge of the road had given way.
The next essential travel items that paid for themselves a thousand times over that day were ear
Rice wine vodka
Complimentary with our dinner at Lai Chau's friendliest restaurant plags. Our guidebook had told us that Vietnamese like it loud, but nothing prepared us for this. For a ragged old bus it sure put out some sound, and a flat screen TV that launched into music clips, getting more and more raunchy with every twist and turn in the road. The locals, dosed up on rice wine, were loving it! I came to the conclusion that the alcohol must deaden their hearing. Had we not arrived at the border when we did I don't know what they would have happened.
The border crossing was smooth and not particularly eventful. Here we met the only two westerners we would see for the whole day, a French couple heading to Laos. After exchanging guidebooks we wished them good luck and got back on the bus.
Now that we were in Vietnam, the mood on the bus changed dramatically. For the rest of the trip we watched sombre images of soldiers going to war, loved ones waiting at home, and the ever present Vietnam flag waving proudly, to the tune of patriotic instrumentals and heartfelt ballads, and we guessed, correctly, that this would be a sign of things to come.
Warm on the inside
That smooth rice flavour goes down a treat Dien Bien Phu did little to welcome us and we quickly made plans to move on as soon as we could. Although I had been keen to visit the sights of the famous battle, bus trip had dulled my enthusiasm. I did note the surrounding landscape of rice paddys stretching to distant mountain ranges in both directions, and sympathised with the French Chief Artillery Commander Pirot, who had assumed the Viet Minh could not get heavy artillery to the area, a mistake that had cost the French both the battle and their colony.
The next day we boarded a local minibus to Muong Lay but, on the advice of the friendly bus manager, Ming, we continued on to Lai Chau. Until meeting Ming, we'd been getting by using the language section from the guidebook, as neither English nor French are widely spoken in this part of Vietnam. He proved an invaluable source of advice and helped to ease the anxiety of the past 24 hours. He explained the situation of the town names in the area, which have recently been switched around due to the planned construction of a giant dam. He also gave us a language and
Drying clothes
and I warm up at the same time pronunciation lesson, and we realised why up until now our basic greetings in Vietnamese had not had their desired effect.
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