Friday
[Dirty Bitch]
After a 12 hour dead-sleep, I woke up at my Dad's with no-one around in the house. I checked my wounds. The infected bite on my right arm is looking terrible; as big as it's ever been and yellow like mustard. On my right finger, the cut i sustained falling in to a gutter whilst stood still in Luang Prabang is also seeping. The lump on my bck from the same fall is becoming a nice purple bruise, but the bite on my right arm seems to have been saved by Graham's generous offer of bandages and Polysporin; Dad and I had removed these bandages the night before, to my relief. Something like 4 days ago, maybe 3, Graham, Phil and I had ventured across town via a 9 baht (18p) canal boat to the huge MBK market, a mammoth indoor shopping centre somewhere between 21st century mall and traditional market. A shocked young lady who was trying to sell me Thai boxing shorts asked what had happened to my bandaged arms. "A tiger," i told her. "No!" she exclaimed, "you are lying! Are you ok?" "You should see the tiger," said Phil. After Graham had finished stocking up on gear for his adventure to New Zealand, the three of us hopped back on the 9 baht boat and went to see the lovely Giftzy on Khao San Road. She immediately sorted him out a cheaper flight than any other travel agent, online or real-world, had quoted and we celebrated with some noodles and a beer. Graham was flagging and went to bed after Phil had used his tiny shower, leaving Phil and I to waste the rest of the night playing pool in a bar, counting the hours until our 5 a.m. bus to the airport. I intermittently went out on to the main road to buy vodka-red bull buckets, a necessary ingredient to any long night, and each time I entered the main strip the place smelt more of oil and the people's stumbles and slurs became more obvious. We chatted to the night staff whilst entering our own exhausted stupor and eventually had to sprint to get our bags from Graham's room to make the bus. We made it. I was expecting to take my first flight alone that morning, Phil and I due to depart for London 5 minutes apart, but such is the nature of travelling that a lovely young couple called John and Jen got chatting to us on the bus and it turned out that they were on my flight home. The three of us chucked Phil on to his plane and began our long, delayed, tiring journey home. I got no more than 30 minutes sleep at a time and managed to watch 3 full movies in the 15 hours we were on a plane. Luckily I'd drunkenly chatted up the lady in Bangkok airport who booked my seats for the planes and she'd arranged for me to have extra leg-room on both of my flights. However, this did not help in the sleep department, confirming that my lanky frame is not built for relaxtion in transit, and when I reached Dad in Heathrow arrivals I was more manically-exhausted than ever in my life. "No bed and no sleep for around 80 hours, Dad," i explained. "Have you got a lighter?" It was incredible to see everyone, Dad, Bev and Chris all gave me big hugs and I ate cereal and drank tea until my voice finally ran out. And so i awoke this morning after my heaviest sleep ever, completely dazed and quite emotional at not being with Rory or Arun. I sent Rors, who is in sunny Chiang-Mai with the gang, an email and phoned Cherry and Steve before re-entering England properly for a Rizla and filters trip to the shops. As I walked down the road the bitter breeze turned my hands purple. An old lady who was clearing things off the street stopped dead still when I passed her, giving me a look of apprehension. This made me reflect on how I looked now. Whilst away, I'd looked like a traveller, an open-minded dude, an adventurer; I looked like what I was. Now I was back at home, I realised I was still exactly what I looked like, except that the words were different. An unfashionable, unshaven, unemployed youth. Same same, but different context.
Wednesday
[I Can't Words Right Now]
When Steven and I awoke in the dorm we discovered a quarter of our bottle of lao lao remained unfinished. The thing about lao lao whiskey, which tastes more like a vodka, is that if you drink enough the night before you don't wake up with a hangover, you wake up still genuinely drunk.
"Steven! Drink the lao lao!" I demanded. Climbing up to his top bunk we cleaned off the bottle in 10 minutes, reigniting any remnants of alcohol in our systems from the night before and beginning perhaps the most intense drinking session of my life.
Steven, Bentley and I headed out for breakfast, unable to find anyone else. After this we decided that the best course of action for today was to buy 4 more litres of lao lao at the shop and begin drinking all day long. The previous night I had managed to organise my travel to Bangkok and my flight home whilst getting plastered and just about managing to watch the England game. This left us with little to do in Luang Prabang and so when we saw a DVD shop selling knock-offs for 60p each it became inevitable that today we would cram ourselves into Spicy Laos' movie room with some cracking films. I got a British indie film to show the Canadians ('Moon') and they bought a Canadian indie film to show me ('Pontypool'). The choices we made were fantastic. At the end of Pontypool we had a crowd of around 7 who'd joined us, me and the guys having drunk 2 bottles of lao lao between us, all of us periodically screaming at the screen and wailing with laughter.
When Bentley and I observed the tendency for apocalyptic films to have a scene in which the main characters end up getting it on, it prompted us to simultaneously start singing "It's the end of the world as we know it!" whilst humping the air. It was the kind of funny moment that comes out of nowhere and can only happen between people who genuinely know each other. I've shared moments like this with everyone in the gang over the past few weeks in Laos.
The few days we spent in Luang Prabang have left me with more blank spots than any other. I don't remember shouting at a tuk-tuk driver who offered me marijuana, "No Thankyou! I don't want anything! Kob-Chai Lai-Lai!!" I don't remember smashing my sunglasses and lighter on the floor in a fit of inexplicable rage. "You just lost it, dude," said Bentley the next day. The night after movie-day, however, i can remember most of. Whilst we were all at Spicy Laos, it seemed that every decent person we'd met in the whole of our trip suddenly came out of the woodwork to drink the night away. Alex the French dude, Chris the English dude, Cia from Vang Vieng, Seb from Spicy Laos, Luke and Sarah the English couple who'd be in and out of our lives since Don Det island. Together we celebrated, playing pool and joking around in the courtyard and drinking the place dry, occasionally venturing out into the town to visit the night market or on a lao lao run. Perhaps one of the greatest and messiest nights ever.
On my last day in Laos, it truly was the end of the world as we'd known it. Again we rose drunk, but this time we just headed for breakfast and tea. On our way back, we bumped in to Arun and Harriet who announced that this was their goodbye; they were headed for Vietnam on a flight at midday and were rushing back for their tuk-tuk pickup. Arun and I pressed our heads together as tears began to stream down our faces. Despite everyone and everything that we'd encountered in the last two and a half months, we'd actually not spent one night or morning apart. This began as our trip and what we'd chosen to drunkenly ignore - the end - was suddenly upon us. We embraced for a long time. I wished at that moment that I didn't have to leave him but instead I said, "you have a fucking good time, alright mate? Don't you dare stop having fun."
Most of the day was spent playing pool. Graham had decided that he'd completed his trip in South-East Asia and wanted to head to New Zealand, so he was due to travel with me on our epic journey to Bangkok. Rory is heading on with Bentley and Steven. As the day wore on, we waited around, watching Rory and Steven's heroic attempts at sharking the guys who work at Spicy Laos at pool. They went 4 beers up but will be disappointed when I tell everyone that they ended 6 beers down. As the afternoon wore on slowly, the same faces who'd appeared the previous night began to return to Spicy Laos to wave off Graham and I. When the time came, our tuk-tuk driver waited patiently as we hugged and high-fived our way through the crowd. "Steven, i love you n'shit," I told him. "John, you're coming to Canada...very soon," said Bentley with as serious a look as I'd ever seen on his face. Rory and I had few words but knowing looks and red eyes as we parted. I spent the next hour trying not to break down.
Graham and I began psyching ourselves up for our next mini-adventure: two night buses back to Bangkok via Vientiane. I've enjoyed passing through cities that I'm already familiar with; knowing your way around a place is a huge advantage and makes it easy to make the most of a day. It was made all the more enjoyable when, on the bus to Vientiane, we met a couple of girls called Naomi and Lilly with whom we wandered the town all day. Each of us was due to leave Laos' capital that afternoon and as our coach rolled in at 6 a.m., none of us having had any sleep, we kept up an astounding rate of chat considering our tiredness. As we said goodbye to each other later that day, I felt quite proud of the lot of us for managing to make something out of a rainy, cold, potentially wasteful day in a particularly uneventful city. Then, as Graham and I waited for our tuk-tuk to our next night bus we bumped in to Phil, a Brit who had coincidentally booked the exact same route back to Bangkok as us, had chosen to meet his tuk-tuk pickup at exactly the same guesthouse and had a flight back to England departing 5 minutes before mine the next day. So, once again, the three of us are making the most of a potentially wasteful day, wandering round Khao San Road, waiting to leave for the airport at 5 a.m. tomorrow morning.
"I hate the smell of Khao San in the morning." Where it began for me, it is now ending. Today, this road will become more and more hectic, more and more fun, more and more drunk. I'd love to analogise this description with the rest of my trip but, whilst accurate, it would not do it justice in the slightest. Whilst occasionally in a stupor, I have been more awake than ever in my life. Together as a group, whether it was Arun and me in Thailand, the five lollipop kids in Cambodia, or the entire gang in Laos, each of us has driven the others into new experiences, new understandings of the world, new perspectives. We've ended up sharing all of this. None of us will ever lose any of it.
"Steven! Drink the lao lao!" I demanded. Climbing up to his top bunk we cleaned off the bottle in 10 minutes, reigniting any remnants of alcohol in our systems from the night before and beginning perhaps the most intense drinking session of my life.
Steven, Bentley and I headed out for breakfast, unable to find anyone else. After this we decided that the best course of action for today was to buy 4 more litres of lao lao at the shop and begin drinking all day long. The previous night I had managed to organise my travel to Bangkok and my flight home whilst getting plastered and just about managing to watch the England game. This left us with little to do in Luang Prabang and so when we saw a DVD shop selling knock-offs for 60p each it became inevitable that today we would cram ourselves into Spicy Laos' movie room with some cracking films. I got a British indie film to show the Canadians ('Moon') and they bought a Canadian indie film to show me ('Pontypool'). The choices we made were fantastic. At the end of Pontypool we had a crowd of around 7 who'd joined us, me and the guys having drunk 2 bottles of lao lao between us, all of us periodically screaming at the screen and wailing with laughter.
When Bentley and I observed the tendency for apocalyptic films to have a scene in which the main characters end up getting it on, it prompted us to simultaneously start singing "It's the end of the world as we know it!" whilst humping the air. It was the kind of funny moment that comes out of nowhere and can only happen between people who genuinely know each other. I've shared moments like this with everyone in the gang over the past few weeks in Laos.
The few days we spent in Luang Prabang have left me with more blank spots than any other. I don't remember shouting at a tuk-tuk driver who offered me marijuana, "No Thankyou! I don't want anything! Kob-Chai Lai-Lai!!" I don't remember smashing my sunglasses and lighter on the floor in a fit of inexplicable rage. "You just lost it, dude," said Bentley the next day. The night after movie-day, however, i can remember most of. Whilst we were all at Spicy Laos, it seemed that every decent person we'd met in the whole of our trip suddenly came out of the woodwork to drink the night away. Alex the French dude, Chris the English dude, Cia from Vang Vieng, Seb from Spicy Laos, Luke and Sarah the English couple who'd be in and out of our lives since Don Det island. Together we celebrated, playing pool and joking around in the courtyard and drinking the place dry, occasionally venturing out into the town to visit the night market or on a lao lao run. Perhaps one of the greatest and messiest nights ever.
On my last day in Laos, it truly was the end of the world as we'd known it. Again we rose drunk, but this time we just headed for breakfast and tea. On our way back, we bumped in to Arun and Harriet who announced that this was their goodbye; they were headed for Vietnam on a flight at midday and were rushing back for their tuk-tuk pickup. Arun and I pressed our heads together as tears began to stream down our faces. Despite everyone and everything that we'd encountered in the last two and a half months, we'd actually not spent one night or morning apart. This began as our trip and what we'd chosen to drunkenly ignore - the end - was suddenly upon us. We embraced for a long time. I wished at that moment that I didn't have to leave him but instead I said, "you have a fucking good time, alright mate? Don't you dare stop having fun."
Most of the day was spent playing pool. Graham had decided that he'd completed his trip in South-East Asia and wanted to head to New Zealand, so he was due to travel with me on our epic journey to Bangkok. Rory is heading on with Bentley and Steven. As the day wore on, we waited around, watching Rory and Steven's heroic attempts at sharking the guys who work at Spicy Laos at pool. They went 4 beers up but will be disappointed when I tell everyone that they ended 6 beers down. As the afternoon wore on slowly, the same faces who'd appeared the previous night began to return to Spicy Laos to wave off Graham and I. When the time came, our tuk-tuk driver waited patiently as we hugged and high-fived our way through the crowd. "Steven, i love you n'shit," I told him. "John, you're coming to Canada...very soon," said Bentley with as serious a look as I'd ever seen on his face. Rory and I had few words but knowing looks and red eyes as we parted. I spent the next hour trying not to break down.
Graham and I began psyching ourselves up for our next mini-adventure: two night buses back to Bangkok via Vientiane. I've enjoyed passing through cities that I'm already familiar with; knowing your way around a place is a huge advantage and makes it easy to make the most of a day. It was made all the more enjoyable when, on the bus to Vientiane, we met a couple of girls called Naomi and Lilly with whom we wandered the town all day. Each of us was due to leave Laos' capital that afternoon and as our coach rolled in at 6 a.m., none of us having had any sleep, we kept up an astounding rate of chat considering our tiredness. As we said goodbye to each other later that day, I felt quite proud of the lot of us for managing to make something out of a rainy, cold, potentially wasteful day in a particularly uneventful city. Then, as Graham and I waited for our tuk-tuk to our next night bus we bumped in to Phil, a Brit who had coincidentally booked the exact same route back to Bangkok as us, had chosen to meet his tuk-tuk pickup at exactly the same guesthouse and had a flight back to England departing 5 minutes before mine the next day. So, once again, the three of us are making the most of a potentially wasteful day, wandering round Khao San Road, waiting to leave for the airport at 5 a.m. tomorrow morning.
"I hate the smell of Khao San in the morning." Where it began for me, it is now ending. Today, this road will become more and more hectic, more and more fun, more and more drunk. I'd love to analogise this description with the rest of my trip but, whilst accurate, it would not do it justice in the slightest. Whilst occasionally in a stupor, I have been more awake than ever in my life. Together as a group, whether it was Arun and me in Thailand, the five lollipop kids in Cambodia, or the entire gang in Laos, each of us has driven the others into new experiences, new understandings of the world, new perspectives. We've ended up sharing all of this. None of us will ever lose any of it.
Saturday
[Whatya On Abaat? N' Shit!]
The Canadians have become some of my best buddies. We've picked up each other's mannerisms over the last three weeks and all of us have formed a tightly knit group very naturally. It's tempting to think that's just the way it is out here, that meetings become friendships very quickly, but truly these guys have proven special. We laugh all day long and keep things happy when times get tough.
Bentley and I have had a tough few days. Physically we're all knackered but what is affectionately known as "the bullshit back home" has become a drag for the two of us. Whilst Bentley toiled trying to access his bank account via Vietamese customer services, I found out that reorganising your flight home is not as easy as I was led to believe. A day of bullshit later, and a night of lao lao inspired ideas and our options seem settled.
Arun and I left Vang Vieng with Harriet, Steven and Bentley on a roasting hot morning, all of us still wasted from the previous night - another QBar romp with the 50 or so aquaintances we'd met around the town. I dropped the beer i bought for the bus when i fell asleep for the first time in 30 hours, the mardy German girl behind me complaining to my deaf ears. When i woke up after our first pit stop, I put my headphones in and there they remained for the rest of the journey. The music inspired a wave of emotion in me. I grabbed Arun, Bentley and Steven's hands and told them how much I was going to miss them all. A month or so ago Rich had mentioned that the journey aspect of travelling was one of his favourite bits and I completely agree; bonds become stronger when you suffer through half a day in uncomfortable seats; the times when you're not talking allow the dust cloud in your mind to settle and new ideas and perspectives to form, leaving you smiling and inspired.
Harriet directed us towards SpicyLaos, a dorm guesthouse in the small but busy town of Luang Prabang that has one of the best backpacker vibes any of us have encountered yet. It's an old lodge that is all wooden floors and no shoes indoors. The family who run the place play around all day in the courtyard, challenging guests to pool and ping-pong. By day it is perfectly acceptable to sit around on your laptop chilling and chatting and reading books. By night, everyone sits and has a laugh on the balcony, knowing that the next morning you're all going to wake up in the same room and not feel like strangers any more. On our arrival we were all still battered, but we dragged ourselves down to the riverside for some posh eats and a few rounds of shithead.
The next night we all had a little bit more energy and some stupendous appetites, making the night market here an obvious choice. You cram yourself on to a wooden bench with your 10,000kip ($1.20) plate of buffet food and try to strike a conversation up, but this proves difficult because everyone is quickly stuffing themselves full of rice and noodles. Steven, Bentley and I joined a girl from the hostel called Sophie for a wander round the market proper, another dazzling array of coloured fabrics and handicrafts. I don't think i'll ever get bored of Asian night markets. Then it was on to the lao lao vodka, the only drink that can give me my voice back at the moment by means of a swift kick in the chest with each neat gulp. This inspired a fantastic night's chatting to anyone who joined us, as well as plenty of acknowledgments between us and the Canadians that "you guys are some of the best guys i've ever met."
At 4p.m. today, opening of business in England, I'll begin arranging my way home. Then, tonight, we're reuniting with Rory, Graham and the Canadian girls for what might be my last or penultimate night with the gang. There's a lot of people doing exactly what we're doing out here, it's something that a big proportion of our generation will share, but nobody has the same experience. It's been a beautiful time, unrivalled in my life and shared with my best friend and my cousin. For reasons other than practicalities, leaving will not be easy.
Bentley and I have had a tough few days. Physically we're all knackered but what is affectionately known as "the bullshit back home" has become a drag for the two of us. Whilst Bentley toiled trying to access his bank account via Vietamese customer services, I found out that reorganising your flight home is not as easy as I was led to believe. A day of bullshit later, and a night of lao lao inspired ideas and our options seem settled.
Arun and I left Vang Vieng with Harriet, Steven and Bentley on a roasting hot morning, all of us still wasted from the previous night - another QBar romp with the 50 or so aquaintances we'd met around the town. I dropped the beer i bought for the bus when i fell asleep for the first time in 30 hours, the mardy German girl behind me complaining to my deaf ears. When i woke up after our first pit stop, I put my headphones in and there they remained for the rest of the journey. The music inspired a wave of emotion in me. I grabbed Arun, Bentley and Steven's hands and told them how much I was going to miss them all. A month or so ago Rich had mentioned that the journey aspect of travelling was one of his favourite bits and I completely agree; bonds become stronger when you suffer through half a day in uncomfortable seats; the times when you're not talking allow the dust cloud in your mind to settle and new ideas and perspectives to form, leaving you smiling and inspired.
Harriet directed us towards SpicyLaos, a dorm guesthouse in the small but busy town of Luang Prabang that has one of the best backpacker vibes any of us have encountered yet. It's an old lodge that is all wooden floors and no shoes indoors. The family who run the place play around all day in the courtyard, challenging guests to pool and ping-pong. By day it is perfectly acceptable to sit around on your laptop chilling and chatting and reading books. By night, everyone sits and has a laugh on the balcony, knowing that the next morning you're all going to wake up in the same room and not feel like strangers any more. On our arrival we were all still battered, but we dragged ourselves down to the riverside for some posh eats and a few rounds of shithead.
The next night we all had a little bit more energy and some stupendous appetites, making the night market here an obvious choice. You cram yourself on to a wooden bench with your 10,000kip ($1.20) plate of buffet food and try to strike a conversation up, but this proves difficult because everyone is quickly stuffing themselves full of rice and noodles. Steven, Bentley and I joined a girl from the hostel called Sophie for a wander round the market proper, another dazzling array of coloured fabrics and handicrafts. I don't think i'll ever get bored of Asian night markets. Then it was on to the lao lao vodka, the only drink that can give me my voice back at the moment by means of a swift kick in the chest with each neat gulp. This inspired a fantastic night's chatting to anyone who joined us, as well as plenty of acknowledgments between us and the Canadians that "you guys are some of the best guys i've ever met."
At 4p.m. today, opening of business in England, I'll begin arranging my way home. Then, tonight, we're reuniting with Rory, Graham and the Canadian girls for what might be my last or penultimate night with the gang. There's a lot of people doing exactly what we're doing out here, it's something that a big proportion of our generation will share, but nobody has the same experience. It's been a beautiful time, unrivalled in my life and shared with my best friend and my cousin. For reasons other than practicalities, leaving will not be easy.
Wednesday
[Twist]
I woke up on my third morning in Vientiane to a shock. Stumbling downstairs on my battered feet, i decided it was time to check my account balance. This is when i discovered that i'd reached what i'd always called to myself "The $300 Mark." 200 quid would leve me about enough money to get out of South East Asia safely whilst leaving enough spare to drown my sorrows along the way. It'd snuck up on me and smashed me round the face, bringing the entire reality of the trip back in to perspective. I could suddenly remember the whole thing, how amazing it's all been at every stage and all the people who i have crossed paths with. Suddenly any homesickness i'd felt vanished.
I needed to take it easy so i went and got a cup of English Breakfast at our little cafe, the gang slowly joining me in preparation for our trip out of town that afternoon. As i mentioned my situation to my friends a few different solutions and options came up, over which i've mused with Arun and Rory during journeys and late nights since. It was obvious to me from the start though; hometime has arrived and i'll be making plans to get back to the UK in around 10 days time. I'll miss Vietnam and i'll miss Songkran, the Thai water festival. Frankly though, i was not upset about it for a moment; i cannot be more grateful for the time i've had and if i were to have done it differently i might have more money now but it wouldn't have been worth it.
Moving On
Thankfully, Laos is a very cheap place. I have managed to make the money go further than it might have had i panicked and our time in the capital was also well spent. Rory and and ventured out to the market, two stories of cheap clothes, jewellery and trinkets that were all quite tempting. The atmosphere here was typical of Laos in comparison to Cambodia or Thailand: much more relaxed, very friendly and far less busy. I've found a new pace of walking whilst in Laos, partially because of my feet which are cut and bruised on all sides but also because it just suits the place. You can wander across the road quite calmly here, the drivers are in no rush and will always avoid you.
The rain was beginning to subside in Vientiane so Rory and I diverted our stroll to take in a little bookshop. The guy at the counter was fantastic. "Welcome, take your time," he declared as we walked in. He didn't need to smile to seem friendly and his intelligence shone through in everything he said. I ended up with three quality new books. By the time we were headed out of Vientiane on the bus the sun had come out, prompting Bentley and I to stand outside with our arms stretched out, looking upwards, shouting, "the sun is back! To Vang Vieng! Tubing!"
Tubing had always been one of the most hotly anticipated events on our schedule, it's the epicentre of traveller fun and antics. The bus ride was quick despite the gaping great holes that exist on all Laos roads and it dropped us off on the main street in time for sunset. By this time, shirtless Westerners were already slothing around the streets with buckets in their hand, covered in face paint and slurring loudly. We found a mint little guesthouse that we almost completely took over as the entire gang moved in. Graham, Bentley and I had already planned our night out: a trip on mushroom shakes to force our minds open and to lift my mood away from anything negative. We headed down to the bar we'd heard was cool and met the owner, Jaiydee, who smiles, winks and clicks whilst he serves you drinks. After we'd waited an hour playing pool and the shakes had kicked in the three of us decided that an adventure was in order. We walked back up to the main strip and found the rest of the gang.
"Holy shit, it's like a drunk bomb went off!" Graham shouted. Our vibe was not their vibe. Our smiles weren't like theirs and our conversation was starting to get spacey. We bolted back in the opposite direction and, following various signs - a light in the distance, a cliff, the moon - we walked on the adventure of a lifetime. Lit by a full moon we wandered through rice paddies and the forest for three hours, stopping every 10 minutes to contemplate the stars and the satellites, philosophising all the way and creating a fantastic buzz. My day had begun financial depression and had finished with intellectual ecstacy.
The next day we went tubing proper. It was just the guys, all 6 of us, but a crowd emerged after we'd done a couple of bars. Everywhere you arrive, big rubber tube in hand, you're plied with free shots. The music is consistently awesome all the way down and every bar is banging all day. After one bucket the rope swings and the zip lines seem like the most awesome idea on Earth. Inspired by Bentley, who is such an adrenaline junkie that he will jump off of any available platform as long as the water exists below, we all swung and threw ourselves into the stream. The drunker you get, the more the rush of flying, the more natural letting go feels. I personally exorcised a lot of demons by throwing myself off of 30 feet platforms repeatedly. Arun fulfilled a promise that he'd made often on the trip and as soon as 'Woo Boost' started playing he threw up everywhere. The look of horrofied expectation was mixed with a knowing smile as he leaned over the balcony.
The whole thing is wild. Vang Vieng doesn't stop all day and getting swept up is inevitable. The late club, QBar, which doesn't close until midnight, blasts out pumping music non-stop. This day left us wrecked the next day, so we decided to find a little slice of paradise and chill all day. Bentley, Arun, Graham and I opted for more mushroom shakes and had the trip of a lifetime all day whilst Rory and Steven drank. The proof of our friendships was shown in how well our varying vibes worked on this day, although the location was inspiring enough to chill anyone out. We were sat riverside in hammocks and on beds, the spectacular cliffs opposite making for a beautiful orange sunset. Bentley and I stuck our faces in the strong current and let our bodies drift quickly down the water. We came out exillerated and started dancing on platforms to the dubstep Rory had put on behind the bar. The quiet Thai owners smiled at us, their only customers all day, watching us in bliss.
After having had another day's tubing, this time without tubes, since our trip in paradise we've all fallen in love with Vang Vieng. The reputation might be one of debauchery but really the atmosphere is completely unique. The second day tubing left us all split up but still partying on, still throwing ourselves from great heights into the water and still able to stand after gallons of alcohol. Each night we've owned the dancefloor at QBar and met dozens of people. Today, we got bikes and cycled out for more tranquillity at the Blue Lagoon, a bright blue pool of freezing cold water that feels like it washes off any sins, which we also sweated out with a couple of hours playing football tennis. Having fun comes so naturally here that it's unavoidable. Despite my bad news, it's an incredible time in my life and a totally beautiful place on Earth. I could not have asked for anything more.
I needed to take it easy so i went and got a cup of English Breakfast at our little cafe, the gang slowly joining me in preparation for our trip out of town that afternoon. As i mentioned my situation to my friends a few different solutions and options came up, over which i've mused with Arun and Rory during journeys and late nights since. It was obvious to me from the start though; hometime has arrived and i'll be making plans to get back to the UK in around 10 days time. I'll miss Vietnam and i'll miss Songkran, the Thai water festival. Frankly though, i was not upset about it for a moment; i cannot be more grateful for the time i've had and if i were to have done it differently i might have more money now but it wouldn't have been worth it.
Moving On
Thankfully, Laos is a very cheap place. I have managed to make the money go further than it might have had i panicked and our time in the capital was also well spent. Rory and and ventured out to the market, two stories of cheap clothes, jewellery and trinkets that were all quite tempting. The atmosphere here was typical of Laos in comparison to Cambodia or Thailand: much more relaxed, very friendly and far less busy. I've found a new pace of walking whilst in Laos, partially because of my feet which are cut and bruised on all sides but also because it just suits the place. You can wander across the road quite calmly here, the drivers are in no rush and will always avoid you.
The rain was beginning to subside in Vientiane so Rory and I diverted our stroll to take in a little bookshop. The guy at the counter was fantastic. "Welcome, take your time," he declared as we walked in. He didn't need to smile to seem friendly and his intelligence shone through in everything he said. I ended up with three quality new books. By the time we were headed out of Vientiane on the bus the sun had come out, prompting Bentley and I to stand outside with our arms stretched out, looking upwards, shouting, "the sun is back! To Vang Vieng! Tubing!"
Tubing had always been one of the most hotly anticipated events on our schedule, it's the epicentre of traveller fun and antics. The bus ride was quick despite the gaping great holes that exist on all Laos roads and it dropped us off on the main street in time for sunset. By this time, shirtless Westerners were already slothing around the streets with buckets in their hand, covered in face paint and slurring loudly. We found a mint little guesthouse that we almost completely took over as the entire gang moved in. Graham, Bentley and I had already planned our night out: a trip on mushroom shakes to force our minds open and to lift my mood away from anything negative. We headed down to the bar we'd heard was cool and met the owner, Jaiydee, who smiles, winks and clicks whilst he serves you drinks. After we'd waited an hour playing pool and the shakes had kicked in the three of us decided that an adventure was in order. We walked back up to the main strip and found the rest of the gang.
"Holy shit, it's like a drunk bomb went off!" Graham shouted. Our vibe was not their vibe. Our smiles weren't like theirs and our conversation was starting to get spacey. We bolted back in the opposite direction and, following various signs - a light in the distance, a cliff, the moon - we walked on the adventure of a lifetime. Lit by a full moon we wandered through rice paddies and the forest for three hours, stopping every 10 minutes to contemplate the stars and the satellites, philosophising all the way and creating a fantastic buzz. My day had begun financial depression and had finished with intellectual ecstacy.
The next day we went tubing proper. It was just the guys, all 6 of us, but a crowd emerged after we'd done a couple of bars. Everywhere you arrive, big rubber tube in hand, you're plied with free shots. The music is consistently awesome all the way down and every bar is banging all day. After one bucket the rope swings and the zip lines seem like the most awesome idea on Earth. Inspired by Bentley, who is such an adrenaline junkie that he will jump off of any available platform as long as the water exists below, we all swung and threw ourselves into the stream. The drunker you get, the more the rush of flying, the more natural letting go feels. I personally exorcised a lot of demons by throwing myself off of 30 feet platforms repeatedly. Arun fulfilled a promise that he'd made often on the trip and as soon as 'Woo Boost' started playing he threw up everywhere. The look of horrofied expectation was mixed with a knowing smile as he leaned over the balcony.
The whole thing is wild. Vang Vieng doesn't stop all day and getting swept up is inevitable. The late club, QBar, which doesn't close until midnight, blasts out pumping music non-stop. This day left us wrecked the next day, so we decided to find a little slice of paradise and chill all day. Bentley, Arun, Graham and I opted for more mushroom shakes and had the trip of a lifetime all day whilst Rory and Steven drank. The proof of our friendships was shown in how well our varying vibes worked on this day, although the location was inspiring enough to chill anyone out. We were sat riverside in hammocks and on beds, the spectacular cliffs opposite making for a beautiful orange sunset. Bentley and I stuck our faces in the strong current and let our bodies drift quickly down the water. We came out exillerated and started dancing on platforms to the dubstep Rory had put on behind the bar. The quiet Thai owners smiled at us, their only customers all day, watching us in bliss.
After having had another day's tubing, this time without tubes, since our trip in paradise we've all fallen in love with Vang Vieng. The reputation might be one of debauchery but really the atmosphere is completely unique. The second day tubing left us all split up but still partying on, still throwing ourselves from great heights into the water and still able to stand after gallons of alcohol. Each night we've owned the dancefloor at QBar and met dozens of people. Today, we got bikes and cycled out for more tranquillity at the Blue Lagoon, a bright blue pool of freezing cold water that feels like it washes off any sins, which we also sweated out with a couple of hours playing football tennis. Having fun comes so naturally here that it's unavoidable. Despite my bad news, it's an incredible time in my life and a totally beautiful place on Earth. I could not have asked for anything more.
Friday
[2Pac vs. Predator: It's Super Effective!]
For the last couple of days, we've been traveling around Laos in jeans and hoodies, sheltering from drizzle and nursing colds. In complete contrast to the start of our week, which was as hot as the rest of the trip had been, Laos suddenly went very 'England' on us. We celebrated the fact by finding an incredible English pub in the capital and took our new Canadian friends out for their first bangers & mash and steak & ale pies.
Due to our common desire to visit Kong Lo Caves, in the last week we've become a group of eleven. Rory, Arun and I are now convinced that Canadians are some of the best folk on Earth as the dudes we've hooked up with, Steven, Graham and Bentley are amongst the coolest people we've met out here. Steven has joined Rory and I on bar-propping duties, us three usually being the last out. The Canadian girls, Roxanne and Lindsay, as well as our Brits - Harriet, Luke and Sarah - make up the rest of the huge ensemble cast. The chat is hilarious and has helped no end on the three long bus journeys we've suffered through this week.
The first bus, an uncomfortable ride after a big night out on Don Det island, trudged through southern Laos until we finally arrived at a little town called Tha Khek, the stomping ground of those tourists wishing to visit Kong Lo Caves. The bus ride became ridiculous. Every time Rory and I jumped off to grab a quick cigarette at some tiny little shack selling Lays and Coke in the middle of the countryside, we were ushered back on, only to wait a further 10 minutes for the thing to start up again and stop about 50 metres down the road. Shithead got us through this one, Rory Bentley and I battling against the darkness to keep on playing, darkness that had only arrived because the trip took double the expected time and dropped us off at 1 a.m. We bedded down, hoping to get some scooters and head to the caves the next day, writing off any chance of an interesting night in the knowledge that all but the most underground places in Laos close at 11 p.m. When we woke we moved ourselves across town to be more central, we discovered that scooters were impossible for that day and we'd have to leave the trip until tomorrow. "So, what do we do in Tha Khek?" one of the boys asked. The riverside bar was the answer and we took a slow stroll down through town, passing the same three shops dozens of times; liquor and food shops, clinics, and garages. That is all there is to Tha Khek until you reach the Mekong River at the edge of town where you can sit in one of three or four bars, get a cheap beer and look across the vast water at Thailand on the other side. At this stage, the sun was still bliazing down on Harriet's, Bentley's and my back as we sat on a wall. In great spirits, we staggered in threes and pairs back up to our new guesthouse, arriving just in time to see the start of the bonfire that they set up each night.
With the BeerLao and Lao Lao vodka flowing back at our place and all eight boys squashed in to one dorm room together, the night got rowdy. By the end of the night we were slurring hilarities at one another on the balcony, the kind of comments that are forgotten forever the next morning.
The following day proved to be both inspiring and challenging. We all woke up feeling awful, especially Arun who'd been on the wrong end of five bodyslams the night before. One by one we all left the room to shower or ablute and one by one we all returned, stunned by how cold it had gotten. I made the mistake of persevering with only shorts, flip-flops and a t-shirt and developed a nasty cold as the day wore on. We stuffed ourselves in to a minivan for the three hour drive up to the caves, most people not getting a proper seat but working out some strange leg and arm arrangements for napping. As we stopped at a small shack for lunch, the rain began to pour and we became increasingly cold. It stayed like this until we reached the entrance of the caves where we not only got shelter but all felt a sudden warm breeze. Literally every one of us celebrated. "Cavemen had it sorted! Central heating and everything!" It was extreme relief.
You walk down into the mouth of the caves, perhaps three stories high, and get in to a longtail boat three-by-three that sits just above the floor of the river which runs the entire length of the cave. After thirty seconds zipping along with that warm air blowing in your face, everything becomes pitch black and only torches can illuminate the huge hole in the Earth in which you find yourself. Each of our minds were blown; we heard distant echoed cries of "ho-ly shit!" from the other boats when someone turned a corner and entered an area even more massive than the last. Kong Lo Caves is unlike anything any of us had seen before with its giant stalagtites hanging precariously above your head and little, perhaps unexplored caverns going deeper in to mysterious places. After the 7 mile trip one way through you turn back on yourself and do it all in reverse, realising that the place is equally as fascinating the second time round.
Despite being enlightened and revitalised by the experience, we all found the minivan ride home punishing. Again it was dark when we got back and this time the bonfire was roaring. We all sat around it to warm and dry ourselves, accidentally re-introducing ourselves to people we'd met the night before in a stupor, none of us able to handle more than a couple of beers before crashing in the dorm.
Our final bus ride of the week, VIP all the way to the Laos capital of Vientiane, was by far the least punishing. The chairs, which had awesome headrests, reclined; the TV played Ong-Bak; we got given free water. The only problem was the A/C which blasted the bus into a freeze which made at least half of our colds much worse. We all passed around paracetemol and codeine and valium to try and fix ourselves but i found thta the best cure was empathy as i had a great talk with Bentley most of the way about our plans, how we should hang out in Canada and what to do in a zombie apocalypse. The rain got worse as we went north and was torrential by the time we reached Vientiane. After treating ourselves and the Canadians to the aforementioned British food we started the drinking. "There's only one thing for this cold," I said to Rory, "tequilla!"
The night out was fantastic, finished in style by the usual threesome of Rory, Steven and I in a dreadful Laos club located on the third floor of a plush hotel. It was all businessmen indulging in the so-called "karaoke" booths and the DJ hammered out obnoxious pop music. We had an incredible laugh. The three of us had had great practice at this ever since we met in beautiful Don Det the week before. There'd been more than one night that we'd all been sprawled across our balcony on the river playing those last few rounds of cards, delicately finishing that last big BeerLao and laughing non-stop. This was how the first night in Vientiane went too, except minus a balcony we were forced to wander the town.
Due to our common desire to visit Kong Lo Caves, in the last week we've become a group of eleven. Rory, Arun and I are now convinced that Canadians are some of the best folk on Earth as the dudes we've hooked up with, Steven, Graham and Bentley are amongst the coolest people we've met out here. Steven has joined Rory and I on bar-propping duties, us three usually being the last out. The Canadian girls, Roxanne and Lindsay, as well as our Brits - Harriet, Luke and Sarah - make up the rest of the huge ensemble cast. The chat is hilarious and has helped no end on the three long bus journeys we've suffered through this week.
The first bus, an uncomfortable ride after a big night out on Don Det island, trudged through southern Laos until we finally arrived at a little town called Tha Khek, the stomping ground of those tourists wishing to visit Kong Lo Caves. The bus ride became ridiculous. Every time Rory and I jumped off to grab a quick cigarette at some tiny little shack selling Lays and Coke in the middle of the countryside, we were ushered back on, only to wait a further 10 minutes for the thing to start up again and stop about 50 metres down the road. Shithead got us through this one, Rory Bentley and I battling against the darkness to keep on playing, darkness that had only arrived because the trip took double the expected time and dropped us off at 1 a.m. We bedded down, hoping to get some scooters and head to the caves the next day, writing off any chance of an interesting night in the knowledge that all but the most underground places in Laos close at 11 p.m. When we woke we moved ourselves across town to be more central, we discovered that scooters were impossible for that day and we'd have to leave the trip until tomorrow. "So, what do we do in Tha Khek?" one of the boys asked. The riverside bar was the answer and we took a slow stroll down through town, passing the same three shops dozens of times; liquor and food shops, clinics, and garages. That is all there is to Tha Khek until you reach the Mekong River at the edge of town where you can sit in one of three or four bars, get a cheap beer and look across the vast water at Thailand on the other side. At this stage, the sun was still bliazing down on Harriet's, Bentley's and my back as we sat on a wall. In great spirits, we staggered in threes and pairs back up to our new guesthouse, arriving just in time to see the start of the bonfire that they set up each night.
With the BeerLao and Lao Lao vodka flowing back at our place and all eight boys squashed in to one dorm room together, the night got rowdy. By the end of the night we were slurring hilarities at one another on the balcony, the kind of comments that are forgotten forever the next morning.
The following day proved to be both inspiring and challenging. We all woke up feeling awful, especially Arun who'd been on the wrong end of five bodyslams the night before. One by one we all left the room to shower or ablute and one by one we all returned, stunned by how cold it had gotten. I made the mistake of persevering with only shorts, flip-flops and a t-shirt and developed a nasty cold as the day wore on. We stuffed ourselves in to a minivan for the three hour drive up to the caves, most people not getting a proper seat but working out some strange leg and arm arrangements for napping. As we stopped at a small shack for lunch, the rain began to pour and we became increasingly cold. It stayed like this until we reached the entrance of the caves where we not only got shelter but all felt a sudden warm breeze. Literally every one of us celebrated. "Cavemen had it sorted! Central heating and everything!" It was extreme relief.
You walk down into the mouth of the caves, perhaps three stories high, and get in to a longtail boat three-by-three that sits just above the floor of the river which runs the entire length of the cave. After thirty seconds zipping along with that warm air blowing in your face, everything becomes pitch black and only torches can illuminate the huge hole in the Earth in which you find yourself. Each of our minds were blown; we heard distant echoed cries of "ho-ly shit!" from the other boats when someone turned a corner and entered an area even more massive than the last. Kong Lo Caves is unlike anything any of us had seen before with its giant stalagtites hanging precariously above your head and little, perhaps unexplored caverns going deeper in to mysterious places. After the 7 mile trip one way through you turn back on yourself and do it all in reverse, realising that the place is equally as fascinating the second time round.
Despite being enlightened and revitalised by the experience, we all found the minivan ride home punishing. Again it was dark when we got back and this time the bonfire was roaring. We all sat around it to warm and dry ourselves, accidentally re-introducing ourselves to people we'd met the night before in a stupor, none of us able to handle more than a couple of beers before crashing in the dorm.
Our final bus ride of the week, VIP all the way to the Laos capital of Vientiane, was by far the least punishing. The chairs, which had awesome headrests, reclined; the TV played Ong-Bak; we got given free water. The only problem was the A/C which blasted the bus into a freeze which made at least half of our colds much worse. We all passed around paracetemol and codeine and valium to try and fix ourselves but i found thta the best cure was empathy as i had a great talk with Bentley most of the way about our plans, how we should hang out in Canada and what to do in a zombie apocalypse. The rain got worse as we went north and was torrential by the time we reached Vientiane. After treating ourselves and the Canadians to the aforementioned British food we started the drinking. "There's only one thing for this cold," I said to Rory, "tequilla!"
The night out was fantastic, finished in style by the usual threesome of Rory, Steven and I in a dreadful Laos club located on the third floor of a plush hotel. It was all businessmen indulging in the so-called "karaoke" booths and the DJ hammered out obnoxious pop music. We had an incredible laugh. The three of us had had great practice at this ever since we met in beautiful Don Det the week before. There'd been more than one night that we'd all been sprawled across our balcony on the river playing those last few rounds of cards, delicately finishing that last big BeerLao and laughing non-stop. This was how the first night in Vientiane went too, except minus a balcony we were forced to wander the town.
Sunday
[Save the Beer, Fuck John]
Tol, the tuk-tuk driver who we'd been hanging out with in Siem Reap, had a hell of a night planned for us. As our coach was at 5.30 a.m. the sensible thing to do was to drink right through and then try to catch a bit of sleep on the long bus ride. During the day we'd rounded up a number of new friends staying at the same guesthouse as us and we all got Tol to take us to the best barbeque he knew. We ended up at a similar little Cambodian local to the one we'd visited in Phnom Penh. Again our glasses were never empty of beer and a block of ice, the cries of "chul moi! Bottoms up!" never ceased, and our tuk-tuk drivers did a little bit of slow karaoke as we took the role of backing dancers. We had approximately 5 cows worth of freshly barbequed beef between us and then drove back across town for a night on the town with Tol.
We arrived at Pub Street, partied, drank and played pool, and then suddenly at around 6 a.m. i woke up on the roof terrace of Okay Villas. "What's the time?" I screamed to no-one and bolted down 6 flights of stairs to find Arun and Rory in the lobby, having looked for me everywhere. "I missed the bus, didn't I." They nodded. We all decided to leave the next day instead. I got back into bed sheepishly.
We made the most of our extra day in Siem Reap, having a few beers after a big sleep and then wandering round the night market before wandering in to a cool roof-top bar away from the main strip. Playing more pool and drinking more beers we got to know some of the Brits and Cambodians in there. "No-one is going to miss the bus tonight, right John?" Arun repeated, becoming slightly more slurred as the night went on. We turned in early and the next thing i knew, Rory was waking me up and we headed downstairs to put our bags next to Arun's. "Where's Arun?" we started wondering, a little blurry eyed. We had no idea. I sprinted around the place looking for another drunken zombie who gotten lost in a haze of Cambodian alcohol. At 6.30 a.m. i heard his voice. "What time is it?" he was asking the corridor. "Too late!" i shouted back up the stairs. Again, we had to slip back into bed, again the staff at the guesthouse were helpful but also mocked our stupidity.
So, it was a time-wasting, chill-out kind of day that none of us wanted to have but we couldn't afford to say we didn't enjoy. The pool on our roof is beautiful, the sun travels overhead, at times blistering and at times creating filmic shadows across the roof. We had a deliberately quiet dinner and managed to finally wake up in time for our bus to Laos. It took 12 hours in the end, as well as a few 'extra payments' along the way, which were unexpected and part of various people's scams but unavoidable. On the way we all got chatting to Harriet, another East-Midlander who has now joined us on our travels. We introduced her to shithead, apparently the most widely known card-game in the world, and she showed us hearts, which has been our favourite game since. We must have been the loud ones on the bus, despite our tiredness, as over the next few days we've accumulated a few more mates who heard us and have sinced introduced themselves.
After darkness had fallen and our bus arrived across the Cambodia-Laos border, a taxi took us up a dirt path. In front of us a digger began to actually dig the rest of the road, as we trundled along behind. We all joked that we might not be in the right place, but it turned out that we were simply in Laos now, and everything is different. A long-tail boat took us across the silent river to our 1 of the '4000 Islands' that make up the south of Laos. We're on Don Det, a well set-up, cheap little tourist trap that's neither too busy nor too quiet, bringing chilled-out to a new level of serenity. You live on the river in wooden bungalows; a bed, a fan, a mosquito net and that's your lot. On our shared balcony, Arun, Rory, Harriet and I have been chilling in hammocks every morning before breakfast and bringing everyone back to our place once the island shuts down at 11. The beer in Laos is called BeerLao and the vodka is called Lao-Lao Vodka. After our first night drinking, the four of us decided we all needed to sweat out our sins and so we hired bikes and rode an hour along bumpy, dirty pathways deeper in to the island forests before emerging at an incredible set of waterfall-rapids. They tore through the rocks creating a deafening sound like static and a cool mist swirled around us.
The ride back was a long one but on the way we booked a boat tour for the following day. The man who ran the show, Mr. Loy, said "bring more friends!" so we were on a mission that evening to fill up our boat. We bumped into the couple we'd met on the bus, Luke and Sarah, and they were immediately in for the boat. After dinner that night, another Indian feast, Luke and Sarah joined us on our balcony along with Steven, our newest Canadian friend who does not have good luck at chase-the-ace. Steven said he'd meet us at the bar next door the next morning with his mates, Graham and Bentley, that way we'd have a party of nine to fill up the boat. After a heavy vodka hangover was slightly washed away, the nine of us convened on time in the bar for breakfast, before loading up with beer and crisps for the boat ride. We had a hilarious day, everyone getting in on the hijinks as the boat took us to a deserted beach and the driver set up a clay barbeque for chicken and fish. We dived around the water, played some football and sat around eating, occassionally making the place seem raucous but sometimes letting the tranquility of our surroundings take control. It's difficult not to have silent moments, especially at sunset when the sky turns purple and nothing anyone says could be more interesting.
So the lot of us have met and may travel on together after today. We're from all over the world, in the middle of 4000 beautiful islands, heading north in a day or two towards some apparently stunning caves.
We arrived at Pub Street, partied, drank and played pool, and then suddenly at around 6 a.m. i woke up on the roof terrace of Okay Villas. "What's the time?" I screamed to no-one and bolted down 6 flights of stairs to find Arun and Rory in the lobby, having looked for me everywhere. "I missed the bus, didn't I." They nodded. We all decided to leave the next day instead. I got back into bed sheepishly.
We made the most of our extra day in Siem Reap, having a few beers after a big sleep and then wandering round the night market before wandering in to a cool roof-top bar away from the main strip. Playing more pool and drinking more beers we got to know some of the Brits and Cambodians in there. "No-one is going to miss the bus tonight, right John?" Arun repeated, becoming slightly more slurred as the night went on. We turned in early and the next thing i knew, Rory was waking me up and we headed downstairs to put our bags next to Arun's. "Where's Arun?" we started wondering, a little blurry eyed. We had no idea. I sprinted around the place looking for another drunken zombie who gotten lost in a haze of Cambodian alcohol. At 6.30 a.m. i heard his voice. "What time is it?" he was asking the corridor. "Too late!" i shouted back up the stairs. Again, we had to slip back into bed, again the staff at the guesthouse were helpful but also mocked our stupidity.
So, it was a time-wasting, chill-out kind of day that none of us wanted to have but we couldn't afford to say we didn't enjoy. The pool on our roof is beautiful, the sun travels overhead, at times blistering and at times creating filmic shadows across the roof. We had a deliberately quiet dinner and managed to finally wake up in time for our bus to Laos. It took 12 hours in the end, as well as a few 'extra payments' along the way, which were unexpected and part of various people's scams but unavoidable. On the way we all got chatting to Harriet, another East-Midlander who has now joined us on our travels. We introduced her to shithead, apparently the most widely known card-game in the world, and she showed us hearts, which has been our favourite game since. We must have been the loud ones on the bus, despite our tiredness, as over the next few days we've accumulated a few more mates who heard us and have sinced introduced themselves.
After darkness had fallen and our bus arrived across the Cambodia-Laos border, a taxi took us up a dirt path. In front of us a digger began to actually dig the rest of the road, as we trundled along behind. We all joked that we might not be in the right place, but it turned out that we were simply in Laos now, and everything is different. A long-tail boat took us across the silent river to our 1 of the '4000 Islands' that make up the south of Laos. We're on Don Det, a well set-up, cheap little tourist trap that's neither too busy nor too quiet, bringing chilled-out to a new level of serenity. You live on the river in wooden bungalows; a bed, a fan, a mosquito net and that's your lot. On our shared balcony, Arun, Rory, Harriet and I have been chilling in hammocks every morning before breakfast and bringing everyone back to our place once the island shuts down at 11. The beer in Laos is called BeerLao and the vodka is called Lao-Lao Vodka. After our first night drinking, the four of us decided we all needed to sweat out our sins and so we hired bikes and rode an hour along bumpy, dirty pathways deeper in to the island forests before emerging at an incredible set of waterfall-rapids. They tore through the rocks creating a deafening sound like static and a cool mist swirled around us.
The ride back was a long one but on the way we booked a boat tour for the following day. The man who ran the show, Mr. Loy, said "bring more friends!" so we were on a mission that evening to fill up our boat. We bumped into the couple we'd met on the bus, Luke and Sarah, and they were immediately in for the boat. After dinner that night, another Indian feast, Luke and Sarah joined us on our balcony along with Steven, our newest Canadian friend who does not have good luck at chase-the-ace. Steven said he'd meet us at the bar next door the next morning with his mates, Graham and Bentley, that way we'd have a party of nine to fill up the boat. After a heavy vodka hangover was slightly washed away, the nine of us convened on time in the bar for breakfast, before loading up with beer and crisps for the boat ride. We had a hilarious day, everyone getting in on the hijinks as the boat took us to a deserted beach and the driver set up a clay barbeque for chicken and fish. We dived around the water, played some football and sat around eating, occassionally making the place seem raucous but sometimes letting the tranquility of our surroundings take control. It's difficult not to have silent moments, especially at sunset when the sky turns purple and nothing anyone says could be more interesting.
So the lot of us have met and may travel on together after today. We're from all over the world, in the middle of 4000 beautiful islands, heading north in a day or two towards some apparently stunning caves.
Monday
[You Can't See Me]
The full-English breakfasts at Okay Villas are exactly the same as those at Okay Guesthouse. Not that our traveling diet has been unadventurous, but the breakfasts at the Okay chain have kept us going through two cities and are unparalleled. We all got one after our big sleep and retired immediately poolside, giving ourselves a day to recuperate and read. I Finished Fear and Loathing but as soon as i had my tooth started to hurt. They've been aching a few days, feeling better today, but nothing distracts you from having a good time like toothache. Luckily there's been more than enough to offer in the last few days to distract me.
On our first night proper in Siem Reap we arrived at the aptly named Pub Street, number one backpacker drinking hole in town where cool Khmer restaurants sit alongside typical Italian, Mexican and Indian places. We chose Mexican this time but after a tequila we were more interested in the bar across the road belting out hip-hop with alarming consistency. Some intense rounds of shithead later and we ventured on to Pub Street for a few more drinks and a night playing pool. When back at home, Rory and I drank and chatted on the balcony, only to return to the room and find Arun knocking quietly on the door. We felt bad, but something got the better of me and as soon as we'd let Arun in to go to bed, i felt the need to shout "Stone Cold Stunner!" and promptly smashed down on top of him. This sparked about 1 hour of wrestling, inspired no doubt by the hours of wrestling we'd caught on TVs around here since our arrival and the jokes that have caught on. All of which resulted in a late, late start the next day which the staff at our hotel found highly amusing. Our next day mainly involved dragging ourselves out in the evening for a Khmer-style barbecue, where you're given a gas-stove and a waiter cooks the seven different plates of meat in front of you. We got crocodile, snake, goat, beef and some others, dipped in pepper and lemon and chili spices.
Rory and I opted for a few more drinks and some more pool in a bar named Angkor What? after the largest Hindu (now Buddhist) temple in the world up the road, which we were due to visit the next day. We racked up a couple of games and before long we'd gathered a gang of about 10 people, some Ozzies, Brits, Polish and a Canadian. We played killer, a knockout game that loads can play at once, until the drink got the better of all of us and we moved out into the crowd to dance, sit, chat and smoke for the rest of the night. There were some genuinely fun people in the club that night and what had started as pool had ended with a great night involving new mates and a hell of a laugh.
Angkor Wat
You take a tuk-tuk down a long, straight road out of north Siem Reap. It's built for one location only and is lined by dense woodland on all sides. Eventually there's a clearing ahead, a huge man-made moat that stretches round a corner towards Angkor Wat, the most spectacular sight in Cambodia. It's the number-one tourist trap, but really its name is deceptive in that what you hire a tuk-tuk for is to speed between five or six different sites, all in the region of Angkor, that display Khmer architecture from the 9th to the 12th century. Each place you arrive at has another temple, built in a stunningly simple yet detailed fashion. The first stop and big-dog of the tour is Angkor Wat itself, a huge complex dedicated to the God Vishnu, with statues of he and other deities dotted around the temples. It's a venerated site for some reason, our tour guide, Jon, explained; it had been built by piling up lava-stone over 37 years into a 60-metre high structure and adorned with sandstone carvings on every single surface, each of which depicts in painstaking detail different figures from various mythologies. The story of the king and his grand battle takes up 100-metres of wall, running like a film reel as you walk past. We wandered with our guide explaining the various aspects of the temple and were all spellbound by its magnitude and history. Through weary eyes, Rory and i were awoken by the place, especially taking in the cool breeze from the very top tower.
Our driver, Tol, has stayed with us for our two day visit and we let him guide us around the rest of the temples and ruins in Angkor. Each had its own charm, some ruins, some thrived upon by gigantic trees whose roots were golden and extended right round the rocks. I got separated in the second temple, a maze of different levels and unexpected avenues. Whilst wandering i was approached by a young monk named Savem and we discussed tourism, religion and family until heading out to meet Rory, Arun and Tol. Savem ended up cruising round the rest of the area and joined us in the slow climb up "The Mountain," another huge platform-come-temple where the hordes gather to watch westward toward the setting sun. We cracked open a beer and watched the sky turn purple once more over the flat green lands of Cambodia.
The day out left us all jaded, so after a ride back with Tol and Savem we ate dinner and crashed. The next day Tol had promised to take Arun and I to visit Angkor again. He whisked us out in the morning, back through the forest, down to a park about 30 minutes away from Angkor Wat. It contained the oldest ruin in the area and took us a good couple of hours to wander around, stopping for ice-tea and to view the adjoined museum which explained the complex history of the whole of Angkor, the French and Portuguese explorers who had rediscovered most of the sites, the varying religious narratives and influences, all of which wrapped up the tale of the place.
When we found Tol again, passing the ubiquitous young kids selling postcards and scarves, feeling no less guilty at our refusal to buy, he said "now let's go to my family's farm." He'd promised as much the previous day but we'd not thought it to be true, so without knowing what to expect we were driven through the countryside out towards a rickety shack surrounded by mango and jack fruit trees. His family greeted us with slices of the fruits to eat, the freshest sweetest (and first) jack fruit i've ever eaten. He guided us round the small area on which they subsisted and translated a basic conversation with his family. Arun gave his aunt a shock when, during a thunderstorm, he took a photo with flash and made us all think it was lightening, big laughs all round. We've booked our tickets out of Cambodia now, we're bound for the south of Laos on a long coach trip which leaves at 5.30 a.m. tomorrow. As a closing experience in the country it was unmatched.
On our first night proper in Siem Reap we arrived at the aptly named Pub Street, number one backpacker drinking hole in town where cool Khmer restaurants sit alongside typical Italian, Mexican and Indian places. We chose Mexican this time but after a tequila we were more interested in the bar across the road belting out hip-hop with alarming consistency. Some intense rounds of shithead later and we ventured on to Pub Street for a few more drinks and a night playing pool. When back at home, Rory and I drank and chatted on the balcony, only to return to the room and find Arun knocking quietly on the door. We felt bad, but something got the better of me and as soon as we'd let Arun in to go to bed, i felt the need to shout "Stone Cold Stunner!" and promptly smashed down on top of him. This sparked about 1 hour of wrestling, inspired no doubt by the hours of wrestling we'd caught on TVs around here since our arrival and the jokes that have caught on. All of which resulted in a late, late start the next day which the staff at our hotel found highly amusing. Our next day mainly involved dragging ourselves out in the evening for a Khmer-style barbecue, where you're given a gas-stove and a waiter cooks the seven different plates of meat in front of you. We got crocodile, snake, goat, beef and some others, dipped in pepper and lemon and chili spices.
Rory and I opted for a few more drinks and some more pool in a bar named Angkor What? after the largest Hindu (now Buddhist) temple in the world up the road, which we were due to visit the next day. We racked up a couple of games and before long we'd gathered a gang of about 10 people, some Ozzies, Brits, Polish and a Canadian. We played killer, a knockout game that loads can play at once, until the drink got the better of all of us and we moved out into the crowd to dance, sit, chat and smoke for the rest of the night. There were some genuinely fun people in the club that night and what had started as pool had ended with a great night involving new mates and a hell of a laugh.
Angkor Wat
You take a tuk-tuk down a long, straight road out of north Siem Reap. It's built for one location only and is lined by dense woodland on all sides. Eventually there's a clearing ahead, a huge man-made moat that stretches round a corner towards Angkor Wat, the most spectacular sight in Cambodia. It's the number-one tourist trap, but really its name is deceptive in that what you hire a tuk-tuk for is to speed between five or six different sites, all in the region of Angkor, that display Khmer architecture from the 9th to the 12th century. Each place you arrive at has another temple, built in a stunningly simple yet detailed fashion. The first stop and big-dog of the tour is Angkor Wat itself, a huge complex dedicated to the God Vishnu, with statues of he and other deities dotted around the temples. It's a venerated site for some reason, our tour guide, Jon, explained; it had been built by piling up lava-stone over 37 years into a 60-metre high structure and adorned with sandstone carvings on every single surface, each of which depicts in painstaking detail different figures from various mythologies. The story of the king and his grand battle takes up 100-metres of wall, running like a film reel as you walk past. We wandered with our guide explaining the various aspects of the temple and were all spellbound by its magnitude and history. Through weary eyes, Rory and i were awoken by the place, especially taking in the cool breeze from the very top tower.
Our driver, Tol, has stayed with us for our two day visit and we let him guide us around the rest of the temples and ruins in Angkor. Each had its own charm, some ruins, some thrived upon by gigantic trees whose roots were golden and extended right round the rocks. I got separated in the second temple, a maze of different levels and unexpected avenues. Whilst wandering i was approached by a young monk named Savem and we discussed tourism, religion and family until heading out to meet Rory, Arun and Tol. Savem ended up cruising round the rest of the area and joined us in the slow climb up "The Mountain," another huge platform-come-temple where the hordes gather to watch westward toward the setting sun. We cracked open a beer and watched the sky turn purple once more over the flat green lands of Cambodia.
The day out left us all jaded, so after a ride back with Tol and Savem we ate dinner and crashed. The next day Tol had promised to take Arun and I to visit Angkor again. He whisked us out in the morning, back through the forest, down to a park about 30 minutes away from Angkor Wat. It contained the oldest ruin in the area and took us a good couple of hours to wander around, stopping for ice-tea and to view the adjoined museum which explained the complex history of the whole of Angkor, the French and Portuguese explorers who had rediscovered most of the sites, the varying religious narratives and influences, all of which wrapped up the tale of the place.
When we found Tol again, passing the ubiquitous young kids selling postcards and scarves, feeling no less guilty at our refusal to buy, he said "now let's go to my family's farm." He'd promised as much the previous day but we'd not thought it to be true, so without knowing what to expect we were driven through the countryside out towards a rickety shack surrounded by mango and jack fruit trees. His family greeted us with slices of the fruits to eat, the freshest sweetest (and first) jack fruit i've ever eaten. He guided us round the small area on which they subsisted and translated a basic conversation with his family. Arun gave his aunt a shock when, during a thunderstorm, he took a photo with flash and made us all think it was lightening, big laughs all round. We've booked our tickets out of Cambodia now, we're bound for the south of Laos on a long coach trip which leaves at 5.30 a.m. tomorrow. As a closing experience in the country it was unmatched.
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