Joe Tiger

Joe Tiger. Well if there was ever a Tea shop shark, he was it.
Ed and I were making our way to the large Carrefors Shop for some simple grocery shopping, when we were accosted a small, happy and overly friendly Chinese man. Haha, I smelt a rat!
He happily took us to a hole in the wall restaurant, for a cheap feed and then dragged us off to a Tea shop to show us the tastes of Kunming. We happened apon a lovely little shop and were force fed cups and cups of tea. All of verying types. I was almost a breaking piont when the umpteenth pot was brewing. Even though we had a shark in our midst, Ed and I were quite appreciative of his knowlege. As it happened, we were both in the market for some great tea and if this guy was going to make a commission, so be it. I guess in the end we both proffited from a afternoon of drowning in a tea based scam. I did draw the line when he was getting a bit pushy about us buying a wheel of tea as an investment! What?
Anyway, after the Tea and a bursting bladder, we were pretty keen to lose our Tiger mate for a little RnR. We had to make some silly excuse to escape the claws of tiger, before he tried to drag us off to some other suggested shop of sorts. Otherwise this was going to be an expensive afternoon!

Kunming

Arriving in Kunming at the early hour, to a pleasantly cool climate was a nice change from Bloody hot! Ed and I caught a taxi, after much nodding and gesturing, to the backpacker area. We came apon Camilia Hotel which bosts one of the best dorms around. When we arrived in the lobby we were greeted by a very unfriendly arse of a man. This had us turning on our heels and heading for another suggested place from the Lonely Planet. (Now here I have to tell you, I'm off the LP conveyer belt and am using a "Let's Go" instead)
Great suggestion again Loney! (HA!)
This place was Ok and I just mean, Ok. The Chinese have an oversion to cleaning and I mean just basic cleaning, not up to the elbow scrubbing or anything, of Toilets. So this place was bearable. Defiant we were of little angry man and checked in to the less than glam, City Cafe Hotel. We eventually came to our senses and booked in to Camilia for the next day. I was affraid I was going to fall in to the squat Loo, whilst having a shower and cause myself injury. Camelia was a breath of fresh air and clean Loo's to boot! Anyway...Let me regress.
Kunming was beautiful City (a bit smoggy but hey) and everyone buzzes around, silently, on electric scooters. The people are fashionable and have a bit of Tokyo Style about them. Ed and I spent the good part of 3 days wondering the city. This is where we came across Joe Tiger,

Sleeper Bus

I know. I know! Night Bus is a Dirty word for me but I have reason to have a change of heart...Well to a point anyway. Here in China they have sleeper buses...Where you are actually cacooned up in little beds, two high. Naturally I get the bloody bed on the top, with the TV right in front of my bloody nose. So I actually can't put my knees up and getting up into the bunk is a bit like being a member of a Chinese contortionist show. But hey it beats the shit of sleeping in the upright position and I could lay flat with my feet in their cubby hole, without them swelling to the size of footballs. Quite a good idea and probably should be adopted by a few more countries I think. The only problem is, is that the births aren't so wide and if you were of ample size, you'd have buggary chance of being comfortable. Also, if the bus rounds a rather curvy corner you'd fall off, if you hadn't discovered the wear-abouts of the seatbelt. Something I almost learnt myself. All in all the ride was pretty good and I managed to get a good night sleep...and I could still feel my legs in the morning. Always a plus!

Mengla To Jinghong

Well as far as bus trips go this was pretty good. Our driver was considerate of his Western passengers and that I can't stand people who smoke on buses. Even if there s a big sign that says No smoking! I think they are blind and smoke anyway. He even played some poor english music for us. We eventually arrived in Jinghong around 10.30 pm. ot too bad considering we left Udomxai at 7.30 am! The boys decided on a guesthouse. I was less than Impressed I can tell you. after a long day I was hoping for a decent place to sleep. Not a Rat infested (No joke) sess pit that made me want to learch when i saw the bathrooms. Good decision Boyz! I was really exhusted but the thought of laying on the bed made my skin crawl. What with the possibilities of bugs that lived within the mattress. How could anyone sleep? Eventually I fell into an exhusted sleep dreaming of manky skin diseases and bed bugs. Nice so, very nice! I'm not a princess by any standard but if this was going to be the standard of rooms in China, I wasn't going to last here long.
Ed and I spent the following day walking around the city and checking out the Botanical Gardens, before getting on the night bus to Kunming.

The slow Boat to China

Seroiusly, I believe I have done my fair share of rediculously long and stupidly disasterous bus trips. Apparently not! We borded our bus. Well, Mini bus, that usually seat about 25 people, and we set off on our way. Not so bad I though, particulary after the previous days journey. Well,what a fool am I. Hadn't I learnt that a bus filled to capacity and beyond is not a full bus? Supposably not. We stopped regularly piling more and more people in to the bus until I thought that people would have to sit on the roof. Eventually there was not physically enough room for a flea, yet alone a person, so the bus driver started on his way the the border.
The road has to be up there with some of the worst that Cambodia has to offer. This was the Bastard Daughter of Satin Himself! We flug around the back of the bus like crash test dummies testing a new series of high impact vehicles. I seriously thought it couldn't get much worse. Well, until I hit my head several time on the window! We had to disembark several times for visa checks and Loo stops and we were relieved to get out of the bus to stretch our legs. I never thought mine would work again since they had been crushed up near my ears for several hours.
I was the talk of the bus, at one stage, when I took an opportunity to pee roadside. Myself and a Chinese lady were off to find a toilet when all we could find was the side of a building next to a river. It bearly sheltered us from the roadside and my bum was in full view of some old codger across the river. I didn't care.I was busting and sitiing in a bus, bouncing along, was not my idea of fun. When I returned to the bus, the lady had announced my little adventure to all on board and they were congratulating me like I'd won a Oscar. Seroiusly. Western's Pee too you know!
Back on the bus and a few excruciating hours later we arrive at the Chinese boarder. It was my turn to pass over my passport and get my stamp of entry. When the offical took my Italian Passport (Long story but that's where my visa was) he looked at it as though it was a fake and ran his finger all over the fold and the photo. My heart was pounding and I was trying not to look guilty. Even though there was no reason for me to feel so. It's always how you feel you come across. After several questions and a few times where offical and passport disappeared, all was good and I was allowed to enter China. Phew!
Back on the bus from Hell and we possibly went down one of the worse roads I have ever come across in 30 years. I was really wondering if this was going to be the end of me and I was going to die here. Thankfully,our bus driver was skillfull and didn't drive like he was posessed. We made it throuh unscathed and eventually we ended up in the city closest to the border. This is where we were to board the next leg of our already long and exhusting journey in to China.

Udomxai

Finally making it to Undomxai. Mike checked us into a Chinese hotel very close to the bus station. I proceeded to drain all the water from myself and my bag. We decide what was called for was an early dinner and a good night sleep. The following day was going to consist of about 12 hours travel on a bus, over the boader.
We found ourselves a substaintial meal of Laos specialties, then headed back to the hotel. On our return we were invited to sit at a table with Chinese Nationals, to join them in devouring some dumplings. Full to the hilt i didn't think I was going to be able to partake in such a kind gesture. No is never an answer and I was filled to the brim with delicious dumplings. They proceded to talk to me, through Mike, and were amazed that I was going to travel through China, not being able to speak the language. I assured them that my trusty Two-way Mandarin book would see me through and not to fear. Honestly, I was wondering the same thing myself! Eventually I extracted myself from the table and offers of potent rice wine and went and tried to have a shower. When I went to turn on the water there was nothing! I felt really bad. Like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards and all I wanted was a hot shower and bed. I saw the light on of a room, that shared our shower, and went to ask them what the deal was and was there a trick to turn the water on? This is where I met Ed. A Canadian guy who was, lucky for him, travelling in the same direction. When we discovered that there was actually no water and a shower may be as ellusive as hens teeth, we started to talk about the day ahead of us. I informed Ed that I had at my disposal a Fluent speaking Westerner and I was going to use him as best I could. I also had another travel companion for the trip over the boarder. United we shall go. The more the merrier, so to speak.

Wingwang do dad to Odomxai

Leaving the town, of which name I don't recall, epitomises South East Asian public transport. Arrive at bus station (Huh! small wooden hutt on roadside with usual ignorant attendant) at 8am in the pouring monsoonal rain. Speak to ningnong behind makeshift table about departure time of bus (Huh! and Huh again!) A bus is actually a converted Ute with bench seat down either side. A shabby bit of plastic, over a metal frame is considered a roof. Some leaky plastic sides and lack of suspention. Fill it to the hilt with people, chickens and an arrangement of smelly dead stuff and then call it a bus.
The "bus" leaves when it is full. This means to and beyond capacity and at what ever time the "bus" driver decides. At 11:30 am we all pile ( Me, Mike, 4 older Italians, 2 younger Gremans and a partridge in a pear tree) in to the back of our leaky,cold and very uncomfortable road machine. A few kilometers down the road and a slight bit closer to our destination, we swiftly come to a hault, then turn around. Mamma mia! This was the cry from the usual suspects and a little whimper from me. We head back to the "Bus station" to pick up one skinny whizzened old man and a bunch of other cargo. We thought, as we headed again towards our destintaion, we were back on track. Untill he took a sharp turn down a muddy track. We picked up another 4 passengers, who had to sit in behind the Driver and his passenger. Oh and one very scared looking chicken. She went on the roof.
Finally and without further adue, we set off for Udonxai but not after a bit of mutterings from the Italians.
Up a few hills the Bus started splattering and chugging till it came to a hult on a hillside. A good Loo stop I thought. A good time to patch together the broken radiator too. A bit of tinkering and a few more mutterings from the Italian, we were on the road again. Only to be gassed out by the ferocious fumes expelling out the back of the bomb we were intombed in. A bit of handing out of bandanas and a few faces buried in to T-shirts, we were well covered from inhailing too many fumes. Well not enough for us to enter into a suicide pact anyway. Looking around we all realised we looked like a pack of hoodwinked criminals and broke into exhusted fits of the giggles. The day was going from bad to worse and this was our little bit of relief. After gaining composure and a full pelt of rain things just seemed to be more and more grim. Our driver was driving at a ferocious rate around mountain bends, throwing us from seat to seat. The rain was coming so hard that it was making it way in through the flimsy plastic walls and drenching me to my underware. The fumes were killing us slowly and we seemed to be constantly stopping. If we ever made it to our destination it was going to be through devine intervention.

On a bus to ????

Now that Lisa and Chris had left me alone and..well, alone. I thought it was about time to extract myself from Luang Prabang and move Northwards towards China. My next destination. I ended up deciding on a town called....Um...Nong Kwiew or something like that. Not at all pronounced like that and a name which eludes me. Anyway, unharmed I arrived in Nninhsderytrtertqwgfd (or whatever) and found myself road side with Oliver, a very enthusiastic "mature" French backpacker.
He and I scoured the very little and very rustic village, for some where decent to lay our heads. Over the bridge, down a long road, round a corner, and down a mud track we came apon Sunset (or maybe Sunrise) Guest house. A shabby but clean, bamboo thatch roof shack.This was our home for the following night or so. I met up with a very tall (6ft 5") giant of a boy called..Um...lets say for good measure...Laurence. We spent the afternoon recalling our joyous, or not so joyous memories of Vietnam and hegding bets on the currency conversion in China. He did give me a great name for all the Asian currency's though. Pling-Plong. So now it's Chinese Pling-plong or Thai Pling-plong, instead of trying to remember all these bloody currency names. Back at "The Hutt" we ran into Mike who could settle our bet. Me losing naturally. Mike had been living in China and happened to speak fluent Mandarin. Unbeknown to him he just became my offical tour guide and Chinese consultant. Luck had it that he was heading to China the very same day as me..Yeeharr. I wasn't going to have to cross the border alone! I also had the advantage of someone who could speak the lingo too. So after a little consultaion I had my travel plan for China worked out and a border buddy to boot. Ah, what a day of pure luck!

Chef Gastronomique

To shock you all I decided to do a Laos Cooking Class at The Three Elephant Cooking School in Luang Prabang. Since I no longer have Luke to relay apon to whisk up a cullinary feast at the drop of a hat. I thought it was about time I extended my one pot cooking technique to a one wok cooking bananza!
Ruth, a very loud, very dominant, and very country, Aussie woman runs cooking classes, with laos teachers, in conjunction with her restaurant.
Leng and Neng took up the challenge to show three very egar women how to whisk up a Luang Prabang feast.
Firstly we began the day with introductions..(apparently and according to Ruth... my name is Stacey..(Yuk)) and a trip to the local market. Here myself, and New Yorker (and very bad cook) and an American-Thai Girl,asked Leng a million questions. Poor man was exhusted before we even set foot in the kitchen. Running up and down isles, fondling fruit and Vege, yelling "What's this! what's this!" The man looked like he needed a scotch.
Back in the safety of the cooking school and after a much needed Tea, we were ready to Strart. Neng and Leng (Both last names Lee) set about, taking it in turns, to cook a specialty dish. After demonstrating to us their cullinary skills we had to reproduce the same. Apparently we were meant to group together and cook together being an intimate group of three. Defiantly, we grabbed required ingredients and set about cooking individually.( Gladly, since previously mentioned was hopeless behind a wok) Poor Leng and Neng didn't have it in them to argue with 3 strong willed Western woman.
I set about the tasks at a feverish pace due to the fact I hadn't cooked in 6 months. Before I knew it I had actually achieved the desired result and it tasted Good. Away we went for the rest of the morning and sudenly we found ourselves at lunch...We ate the bennifits of our labour. D.e.licious!
The afternoon pretty much went the same as the morning. With us stuffing our face after each demonstration and then whisking off to do the same. The day ended with a feast of Luang Prabang dishes, that we each cooked, to various standards and had a great laugh along the way.
Now I know you are all awaiting my return to be dazzled by my amazing and spectacular wok skills.

Action Figure

I seem to have some crazy idea that I have turned in to an action hero of some discription. Chris, Lisa and I decided to go Kayaking down a swollen river for some 7 hours. The sencery was fantastic, full of rich green tropical foliage over huge mountains. All was good until I realised my muscles were aching and turning to jelly and it was only after the first 3 hours. We donned some bright pink stack hats and bright orange vests and worked our way over rapids. I felt more like a crash test dummy than an action figure then. We stopped, thankfully, by the side of the river for lunch but proceeded to take rediculous photos of ourselves posing in our get up. Back on the Kayak and my muscles slightly less acidic we came across and bunch of kids sliding down the river bank. They had fashioned a mud slide on the side of a steep hill and were happily sliding down in the nud. Chris decided to give them a run foe their money and went slipping down the slide. Fully clothed mind you. His face told us that he was slipping much faster than he had expected and Lisa and I roared with laughter. I was just wondering about these little muddy butts, sliding down a hill and their poor mother trying to extact mud from ones posterior.
After the fun of the slip and slide, we stopped for a swim in the river, which really just ended in Chris and I having a water fight and me getting half a river of water up my nose. Finally we came to rest on some bank of some small village in the middle of dot. Not too soon as my little muscles were starting to droop and I was sure my Kayaking partner would have to take us the remainder of the way.
On the way back we stopped at a Cham Village. Some of the kids had never seen a Farang before and were curous, if not scared. One pooor kid screamed like a Banshi at the sight of me. Really doesn't do wonders for my confidence!! The others followed at a safe distance. This was the start of a game. I slowed down and took big, slow steps with my hands behind my back. The kids would speed up and try to touch my hands without me noticing. When they got close enough I would turn and run, chasing the closet kid. This amused not only all 50 little, snotty nosed kids following me but their adults as well. You know me, always glad to make a fool of myself!

The bus from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang

Mostly you know that if there is a bus trip involved then that means that the day is going to be hot, sweaty and some what uncomfortable. What you don't take in to consideration is that, the bus driver is on a suicide pack with all other local bus drivers and you'll spend majority of your trip hanging on for dear life!
To get from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang you have to go through some of the most beautiful mountainous country side. This entails a bus driver to drive like a maniac, at warp speed round blind corners and narrow roads. I was lucky enough to be sitting on the side of the road that had clear view of all verges and drop off areas. I even was privileged enough to catch a glipse of a rusty old corpse of a bus, that had come to rest half way down a mountain side. On it's roof. The driving didn't bother me so much as the other bus drivers who would overtake on mere strips of road, no bigger than a bicycle track. Mind you usually on blind corners at speeds that formular one drivers would take a chicane. So needless to say we came across an accident. Apparently, a bus had collided with a 4WD on a corner. That's what the story was coming from the driver of the 4WD but the bus drivers version was completely different!
Eventually a lone police officer (in sandal's) arrived on the scene and started to assess what had happened. Getting a rock...Yes a rock. He tried desperately to mark out the accident area, so that the convoy of gathering buses and cars could pass. This was a futile exercise, using a rock, and some handy man finally showed up with a tin of paint. Using a frond from a maze plant the Policeman marked the vehicles out on the road so finally the bus could move enough to let all waiting traffic pass through.
This, however, constituted as our toilet stop (picariously perched on the side of a mountain) and lunch stop (lucky I had foresight and got a take away sandwich) and we were flying down the mountain again at record speed.
Miraculously on time and alive, we reached Luang Prabang in enough time to scourer the area for place to stay and a feed before getting to bed exhausted.

Motorcycle diaries

A day at the caves was what we had prescribed ourselves to get over the sore bodies we had from tubing the day before. This entailed us hiring motorbikes and getting some stupidly hand drawn map and trying to find our way to some distant caves.
At the first cave we got to, not only did we have to pay to cross some mans land, we also had to pay to get in to the cave. The down side to all this (apart from having to depart with money) was that the actual cave was "Closed". That's it. Closed. Here they close the cave at lunch time and it reopens when the guy collecting the entry fee is "rested". Yep that's it. Close a natural area of land.
Hot and a little cranky we headed out, in the opposite direction, deciding to go to the furtherest caves and work our way back to original, closed cave.
This was a great idea until over 9 klms from any-bloody-where my motorbike decided to chug a few times then die. I knew it was a blocked fuel line but how do you explain that to some one who doesn't speak the same language as you? Or find someone to help.
After assuring Chris and Lisa I'd be fine and for them to head to the cave. I proceeded to push my little machine up a very steep hill, in hope that I would find some aid. Previous experience told me that If you are alone than someone is more likely to stop. Hang around in a group of Farang and it's a bit too intimidating. After bashing my calve on the peg several times, swearing and huffing and puffing my way up a hill, I came to a round face kind man. I explained that my bike was broken and I needed help. Ha ha. He was a mechanic! Doing some ridiculous chug chug motion and making a noise like. Bllananfgdfdg! Signaling that it stopped like it ran out of petrol, my man got it and set to fixing my bit of junk. He also kindly filled it with petrol and fixed my carry basket as well. (After much motioning of me running it over and going head first over the handle bars) (Ahh. I see.) I was a little concerned as to what this gesture of kindness was going to cost me. Timidly I pointed to my purse and he shook his head and motioned for me to be on my way. I handed over 3 dollars and was happy to be back on the road again. Transaction complete, I set off down the hill with a happy, round faced family, waving frantically at my back.
Ah, the joys of travel.
I met up with Lisa and Chris emerging from a side road. Apparently to get to the Water fall you had to tackle a wet muddy road and an even slipperier boat driver, who wanted to charge half of your life earnings to get you over a 1 meter river.
We decided that a drive back to town, a good munch on some food and an episode of friends, was what was required to get us through afternoon.
After all this we had the energy to go back to the original waterfall. When we arrived I was very unenthusiastic to climb a bunch of stair to see a cave that I had to pay to see. So, I sent Lisa and Chris off and they promised to share the photos. Gladly I didn't go as they said it was just a hole in the side if a mountain more than a cave. We opted for a swim in the crystal clear, cold waters that came from the bottom of the mountain and explored the cave from there!

Tubing

Tubing: Using inner tube of truck tire. Floating down river. Stopping at bars that drag you in with large bamboo pole. Have a few beverages. Then jump from high swing in to river.

This is "tubing".
Chris, Lisa and I donned our swimmers, old baggy clothes (all that I own), a large rubber tube and headed for the river. We jumped on in to the Mee Song river and stopped at the first "bar". It's more a wooden bench on the side of the river bed than a bar. Here we decided to have our first beer Laos and jump from a platform in a tree in to the rapidly flowing river. I opted for the flying fox. Which I was not so successful at on first attempt. My hands slipped and I crashed in to the water only half way down the wire...Hahaha. The man who owned the bar said it was because I was fat, so I went back on determined to show him what a fat chick is made of. It was great fun. Splashing in to the river and being fetched out on a bamboo poll. After that bit of fun we floated on down some little rapids and landed ourselves at the second bar. This was a little more sophisticated than the first. It had a redstart, a bar and some bamboo platforms that looked out over the river and the giant swing!
Chris was the first of the dare devils to leap from the platform at the top of a high tree with the trapeese swing. He swung out and up high on the other side before he let go. On landing he smashed his poor bum hard on the water. This caused a shriek of laughter from the onlookers...Even us! Always laugh at others misfortune I say.
Than there was me. After my first attempt on the flying fox, I was worried that my hands weren't strong enough for me to hold on to a trapeese and jump 15 meters, off a platform and back up the other side. Well I was right. Making a complete tosser of myself I leapt off the platform, squeezed my eyes tight shut and proceeded to land face first, half through swinging like George from the jungle. This caused a great ruckus laughter from the peanut gallery. Not deterred by having just made a complete idiot of my self and always willing to entertain the masses. Also wanted to try and at least see if I could hold on a bit longer. I was up the tree even before the water could escape from my nose. (which was full due to face plant) So off again, palms bleeding and grazed from first attempt, I swung out again. Feeling the wind in my hair I face planted yet again and all attempts at flying were put to an end. That was enough for me for one day....At least I thought. Lisa was really reluctant to get up there,, because of the height but after a good bit aof peer pressure she was standing at the end of the platform. Off she went and the scream was probably heard in the town. She screamed all the time she was on there! She also refused to jump. She had every intention to let go on the highest point but when it came to it she just couldn't. It took at least 4 pendulim swings for her to let go and hit the water. I laughed and laughed. I thought this was fair considering I was the one who raised a fair bit of fully belly chuckles myself.
Then there was Mick. An Aussie guy from Melbourne who was out with a death wish. 4 times he attempted a bomb dive on landing and 4 times he landed flat on his side. Winding himself and practically breaking a rib or two. When will boys ever learn. Well, he coaxed me up the 3 ladder again, promising that I would be able to hold on long enough to swing to the other side. Why don't I listen! I hat that water at exactly the same spot as I did two times before but this time I think I just caused my breasts some long term damage! That was it I was beaten and big enough to admit it too.
Back on our tubes (well two attempts from me and I was) we were off down the river and at the next bar. This place had a little swing like jump that you haul yourself on to, stand up on the seat, they pull and you jump. I attempted to haul myself up and fell flat on my face! So second attempt I was up and ready when the guy gave me a pathetic little push and I just had a little jump off. This was one step away from a spinal injury as there was heaps of rocks under me. I was glad that I had only fell of the swing rather than jump other wise the day would have ended differently!
Sitting at the bar, drinking my water, I listen to some Idiot British guy say that he found Australia a disappointing Country! When I asked him Why it was disappointing he couldn't actually tell me why. So, after I apologists for not bringing out the Can Can dancers when he arrived and not organizing a million dollars worth of fire works in a welcome display, I thought it was time to leave. Some people just don't realize...Even if you don't like a country, you don't sit there and Bag it whilst a person from said Counrty is sitting in front of you. Perhaps they actually like it?
On and onwards we went where I met up with Mick and told him what had come of my last conversation. Wrong move...A very Drunk, patriotic Aussie ready to defend his country, fists and all. After some reassurance I had dealt with said Loser and a big swing on a big swing, all was forgotten and Mick was on his way to being pickled, sore ribs and all.
after all the excitement of the day Chris, Lisa and I decided that the sun was coming down rapidly and we had already well gone past the 4 pm curfew....
Maybe we should float home.
Off down the river we attempted top stand on our tube, have races down the river, and practically act like lunatics. This I'm sure the locals are so use to watching as many foreingers come here to Tube!
absolutely soaked through, water logged and resembling a old prune, we had a fantastic day on the tubes!

Vang Vieng

After a very hot and sweaty bus trip Chris, Lisa and I arrived in Vang Vieng. This is in the Northen area of Laos. Most people consider this place to be a little less than charming but I really liked the one street little town. Most of the bars and restaurants are notorious for constantly playing the complete series of Friends but if you can avoid them than things are really lovely. It had a good vibe and mostly a town of "Tube" seeking backpacker the atmosphere was all fun and laughs.
Plus they had great banana pancake stalls too!! Yummo!

Back to the Capital

Back in Vientiane I was just sitting down to lunch when along came Kirk. My Aussie companion. I didn't expect to see her since we had parted company in Pakse and I was a tad excited. After standing on tippy toes and waving my arms frantically in the air like a complete idiot I got her attention and it seemed she was just as happy to see me. Embarrassing if she ran in the opposite direction huh?
Anywa,apparently she had adopted some manky skin rash and was feeling a little Blah and too see me made her feel a little better. Also since I was off to see Khamlai, our little Monk mate, she was happy to see him too.
After a feed, off to the temple we went. Khamlai was happy to see us and after being led away from the other Monks we started our usual conversations. However, Kirk didn't tell me that she had actually planned on going, that day, with Kham, to the Buddha sculpture park and actually hadn't shown up till now. He was,in his clam Monk way, a little cheesed off at this. As usual taking the blame on himself. Being a monk only seems to breed these meek men who constantly take the fall for the community, personal situations, or mystery illnesses on their own backs. Really baffles me and the more I hear about the way they are treated at the temple the more I think of it as a prison!
Back on track........
After a happy afternoon of making up ways to smuggle Khamlai back Oz he offered us a posing question...Or Idea.
After practically squeezing it out of him and he being so shy he had to write it in his book. He asked basically if he would be able to marry one of us or come and work in our business, simply so he could come to Oz to practice his English.
A marriage proposal from a monk!!
I had to break his poor heart by pointing out that
A: It's not as easy as marring someone to get an entry into our fine country
B: Immigration may be a little suspect on our relationship considering HE'S A MONK! And can't even touch a woman yet alone consummate a marriage.
C: He doesn't have a dime in his bank account and I am not able to support myself yet alone a MONK!
D: I don't actually have a business to be able to employ him and I am a hairdresser which requires a small amount of skill to be able to do.

Not deterred or visually upset by this he seemed more worried that he may have just ruined a friendship by asking such an imposing question. I didn't have the heart to tell him that he hasn't been the first Asian to ask
and he certainly wont be the last. I still have India and China to go!

The following morning I went back early to the temple to say good bye to Khamlai before heading North. His kindness, big brown teary eyes and wishes for me to stay broke my heart. I couldn't keep big wet tears from flowing from my eyes. I really wish I could help his dreams come true and get him to Australia. I hope that this will be a friend I get to see again but am afraid I may never. Unless it is me who returns to Laos.

(By the way. Kirk's manky rash was nothing more than BED BUGS. Yes.I did get the name of the hotel so I WONT stay there!)

The Night Bus

As far as night buses go this trip wasn't so bad. I did manage to get a few minutes sleep and the local fella I was sitting next to (after almost a fight to sit next to me broke out and he drew the short straw) was ok...Well...Kind of.
I happened to get the tallest man this side of South East Asia sitting beside me. He was all very gentlemanly when he found out he had to sit next to a Farang. He only pouted for the first hour. Went the lights went out, he even switched the overhead on for me so I could read. When the lights really went out and I was bunkering in for my usual painful sleeping positions, things started to go a little south. Lanky Man limbs started to fail him and he spread like butter on hot toast. Each time I moved a centimeter his body took up the space. Until one point I was smeared up against the window and he was all comfortably snoring. I even had to practically lay on top of him to extract myself from my seat to go to the toilet. After our first stop I decided to claim my space and use all my girth to take up every available inch. This is where we started the fight for dominance of the arm space. Were arms going to lay on top of the others or pleasantly beside? Well after a few stubborn bout of gentle pushing he got the picture that no way was I going to let him win. All settled rubberman and I settled into a companionable slumber,with all limbs,belonging to each person,in each persons own space.

Back to Pakse

The bliss had to end at some stage. I found an English couple (which evidently we have been following each other around Asia) to head north with. This morning we piled ourselves back on to the sliver of a boat and headed back over the waters of the Mekong, to get a bus back to Pakse. Arriving at the dock (hahhahahaha) involved a limb twisting, yoga styled disembarkment, that I am sure confused the hell out of and entertained the locals. We fished our bags gingerly from the bow (hahaha) of the boat and set off down a long muddy and puddled dirt road to a local bus. Handing over our bags to be stowed on the roof we were all sandwiched in to the back of a jumbo, locals, Farang (foreigners) animals, stinky fish guts and all. At one point I was sitting with my feet on a bag of sugar and my knees near my ears. This was far from the worst thing though. I was sitting next to, well sandwiched next to, a very sweaty French man with out a T-shirt. I was about to ask him to don his top, because sharing sweat with him was something that was likely to make me vomit, I was moved up further (even though there wasn't really anywhere to move to) and a local fella, top on, w slid in beside me. All in all there was about 20 of us, plus non breathing items, piled in for the 3 hour trip back to Pakse. Plus we picked up a few on the way. I took this as good training for China and India. As no doubt I'll catch a chicken bus or goat boat in these places a few times yet.
We arrived at the dismal excuse for a bus station and hoped on a Tuk Tuk to the centre of town where we bought our ticket for tonight's bus to Vientiane. Yes another night bus! (filthy, filthy word!)
Here I have sat, for hours, filling in my blogger waiting till that wretched bus comes along!
Only another 3 and a half hour to go!!

Don Det (Four Thousand Islands)

After a day more of slopping around Pakse and being over run by snott, I moved on to the very relaxed place of Don Det. Well, after a not so relaxing mini bus trip there.
I was picked up at the wee hours of the morning by my VIP bus driver that I paid a pricey US 6 bucks for. I luckily had the whole vehicle to myself and thought I'd be able to stretch out and sleep off some of the dreaded flu. Not to be, my friends. My idiot of a driver decided to scour the roadsides and market for any additional passengers going our way. And I'm sure for a fee smaller that I paid. When I reminded him this was a VIP bus not a pick up he slowly (and I mean slowly) headed toward my destination. The little bugger was still trying to slyly pick up extra fare. We also made a few grocery stops for him but I drew the line at the Durian entering the bus. This fruit is green and spiky and smells like shit. Literally like poo. The smell is so pungent that it is banned on public transport and some public places. There was no way we were going to drive 3 hours with that in the car. Even if I had a blocked nose!
Finally after several stops and an infuriating drive, I arrived at the boat Jetty to take me over to Don Det. This is one of the many 4 thousand Islands that is found in the Mekong, near the Cambodian border. The Islands are masses of sand banks that have formed due to the rise and fall of the water levels in the Mekong. Mostly these Islands are uninhabited and look more like a cluster of trees rather than Islands.
I had to wait till a few more people arrived to share the cost of a boat. I was worried I would have to wait a fair while before someone turned up. Luck however was shining on my rapidly deteriorating soul. A few people showed up soon after I arrived and we boarded our sliver of a boat that ferried us to the Island. I'm amazed this little vessel arrived, considering it's size and the velocity at which the water was flowing. Safley we did arrive however and than began the process of finding a bungalow. Checking my very much lacking and incorrect Lonely planet, I was trying to find Mr. Noi's. A bungalow that had been recommended to my by a friend. As far as the map was concerned it should be ony a half a kilometer from where the boat (haha) docked and an easy find. Well after Consulting a few unhelpful locals, and a bag throwing moment of despair, I gave up and took a little $3 bungalow in the middle of a rice field. It was pretty good value considering I had my own toilet and electricity from 6:30 pm till 10 pm. Only to find Mr. Noi's bungalows much further down the track at a much latter time. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a mini farm of ducks, chickens, baby albino water buffalo (So cute), calves and a toothless, beetle nut stained granny. This made for a far nicer way to wake up in the morning than the usual honking of horns and ear bursting chaos of most of Asia. Also a great way of recovering from the evil snott monster by lazing the days away on this little slice of land.
I did break from my lazy ways and hire a bike and rode to the ajoining island on a vagina crushing expedition. The roads were less than practical for a bicycle and the "toll bridge" to Don Knong was suicidal but a bike is the only choice. Unless you fancy a loan of a water buffalo? At one point I was wondering if I'll ever be able to bear children and if my nether regions will ever be the same again! This was a natural birth control!

4 waterfalls and drenched to the bone

I took a day trip to see the coffee and tea plantations on the Bolovent plateau around the Champsak, Pakse area. This was a great idea when I booked the day before on a sunny and hot day. This particular day it was raining and miserable and looked only to get worse as a tuk tuk pulled up to take all 7 passengers on the day trip.
Okay, this particular tuk tuk is the size of a mini ute and not as small as those in Thailand but the comfort ratio is still low in the back of these little monsters. Off we set at about 8:30 am zipping down the freeway roads passing cows, chickens, water buffalo and the occasional over sized and over laden motorcycle. Eventually we arrived to our first destination, a waterfall, in a rather heavy down pour. Luckily it only took a few minutes to reach the actually fall but the sight was rather disappointing to say the least . It was so misty and foggy we actually could only hear the water falling and not see it falling. So a little damp, we piled back on to the tuk tuk and headed to waterfall number two. Fingers were crossed that we could lay our eyes on some cascading water. On our arrival we were told it was a nice relaxing 2 kilometer walk to the fall. I'm sure normally it is but in a torrential down pour things were a little different. We slipped and slid our way through ankle deep mud, tire track made rivers and mini land slides. We took our life in to our own hands trying to absail down the stairs to the look out. When we arrived we were mud splattered and soaked through but I'd have to say the view was rather impressive. Our guide decided this was a good place to stop for lunch and perhaps dry ourselves out a little under the dry safety of a hut. We had the pleasure to try the local specialty of bamboo soup but the pressure was definitely not mine. It was putrid.
Back on the Tuk Tuk and a few coffee and tea plantations later, we arrived at a local market. I was thoroughly frozen through and was still wet down to my underwear. We walked around looking at the most disgusting food items and had a mozie around in the brick-a-brack section. It was as if none of us had been to a local market and our guide was making a fuss of the goings on. I was just cold and toiling with the idea of buying a jumper. Not a chance. Back on the Tuk Tuk and we were heading to yet another water fall. I was starting to get the picture and the waterfall scene was starting to wear thin. Eventually, after seeing the third waterfall, we visited a few local villages. There were kids there that were around the ages of 3 smoking these huge bong styled bamboo pipes filled with home grown tobacco. I was dumb founded! Apparently the village people live to ripe old ages considering they start smoking from such a young age. The village was a little incestual for my liking and seemed like a breeding ground of grime and germs. It was the first time I really didn't want to interact with the snotty nosed kids! I also witnessed a disturbing sight which without too many details involved and Grandmother, a baby and a dog. Basically the Grandmother was allowing the dog to clean particular areas of the baby that only a soft wipe should go.
I wanted out of this incestual little place and rather quickly. I was feeling very sick to my stomach.
The last village was more of a shopping " Buy our handicrafts" kinda place that I really had no interest in and I was really just looking forward to getting back home for a hot shower. But wait. What about the 4 the waterfall. Just when we all thought that perhaps there really wasn't enough light left in the day and we were being saved....We were whisked off to the last and final waterfall. A cascade really.
At around 6:30 that evening we were eventually let off the Tuk Tuk and free to return to our guest houses for a hot shower. Thank god. I thought that time was never going to come!

I eventually made it home and Kirks day hadn't been much better. She went off to visit the Angkor styled Watt Phu Champasak and had a lot of difficulty doing so. After sitting in the back of a stationary bus for 2 hours she finally arrived at her destination 45 minutes down the road. Had a good scout around and went back to the pick up point only to find that there was no one to take her back to Pakse. Apparently she would have to wait till morning. This prospect was not what Kirk was hoping for. Considering I would think she was dead on the side of the road somewhere and she was wet and freezing too. luckily some kind hearted Aussie boys took her back in their privately charted Tuk Tuk so she wouldn't have to camp out on the side of the road for a night like a homeless idiot.
By the time I finally got back from my trip Kirk had swiftly decided to return to Vientiane and head to the North of Laos. This meant I was going to be travel companion-less and on my own again. Both sad we parted ways. Probably better for her really. Because after sad news that my 18 year old cat had been put to sleep and being frozen to the seat of a Tuk Tuk for 10 hours I came down with the Flu..

Pakse

After a stint in the garden with monks we had to catch the night bus (dirty word) to Pakse. We were picked up and taken to the bus station in a jumbo.(something that resembles a pick up truck with hard benches running down the tray and a roof) We boarded a bid double Decker bus that looked like a disco and was covered with Barbie spray painted parifinalia on the outside. Scary, really scary. This was the VIP bus and it is far more comfortable and faster than a local bus. We had the seats as you come up the stairs from the loo. Something which later we decided was a negative rather than a positive. We were given a feed of inedible rice and fatty chicken, a cold face washer to freshen up and a hand full of lollies for dessert. All was going well until the TV came on with some poor B grade Laos movie. The stench from the loo, crossed with the Apple fresh deodoriser, rose upward and in to our nasal cavities. It was putrid. Some kid with a bladder the size of a pea kept coming past whacking Kirk every time. The air con was so cold condensation was dripping on to us and I had icicles growing off my nose(that was the only thing protruding from under my blanket). The last straw for me was when some ignoramus went to the bathroom at some godly early hour and on his way back up the stairs turned on our over head light. Kirk and I were staring blindly like kangaroos in the headlight of a truck. My response was "What the F**k!" and quickly shot my hand out of the warm comfort of my blanket to find the switch for the light. The dark couldn't come quick enough!
Why Oh why!! 12 hours on a bus, in an unnatural position is something I keep subjecting myself to? Why?
Kirk and I both were cranky and over tired. We decided to try get a few hours of shut eye in, once we booked into our guest house, before we decided on a plan of action in the south. Sleep didn't really help and we were a both a bit ratty for the rest of the day.
Plan of action: Get a body soothing massage for all those bus kinks and then relax by the river with a cocktail or two.
First part of our plan was quickly put in to action and we found a place that looked good for a massage. Showered and stripped own to our undies and a robe we were ready to be relaxed and pampered. MMmmmm. Well I had a guy who had hands of Steele and used them to pulverize my poor body. He Rubbed me and needed my like a bit of bread dough and I was in more agony than enjoyment. Bliss was closer to death at this point. I know that we don't speak the same language but me gripping the side of the bed in a tense ball of muscles should have alerted to something. Kirk pretty much had a female version of Mr. Hands of steel and we both felt worse for wear after our massage.
Second part of our plan consisted of us searching for a LP recommended restaurant by the river that was in fact, closed. Or probably never actually existed considering the accurancy of the Lonely planet so far!
We opted for an early Curry dinner and a shared bottle of beer before I promptly feel asleep at 6:30 pm.

Oh my Buddha

Munching away on our yummy eggs benedict Kirk and I decided that we really should fulfill our word and go back and see Khamlai. Even if I was just a few hours before we headed off to the Buddha sculptural park. Off we slumped to the Watt like school kids heading off to detention. Honestly we thought it was going to be a weird situation with plenty of "Lost in translation" moments. How wrong we were. Khamlai answered all my stupid 20 questions about being a Monk and did it with a shyness but was completely open. This made Kirk and I feel really bad for being like spoilt kids. This guy was a true sweetheart.
His Father had died only two months ago and he has only seen his Mother twice since he came to study at the temple. Over 5 years ago. He really wants to leave the Studies of Buddha behind but being a monk isn't recognized by so many institutions. He'd love to study as a guide but he simply can't. Even though his English is excellent, is learning Japanese and has been studying French for a long time! This Fella is the right candidate for it and is going to waste, begging for his meals each day and sweeping Temple grounds.
The day went on and we asked heaps of questions which Kham easily answered in his shy way. We parted with a fair bit on our knowledge on Australian customs and the way we live. I said basically we have the view, "My home is your home, so relax!" Kham was shocked that we are so relaxed and comfortable with people of all creeds. I guess that's the upside to being a young multicultural country. I am sometimes glad not to be from a country full of cultural history and ceremony.
He came across as a really humble, sensitive person which made me want to give him a big hug. Forbidden though, remember? We settled for making bracelets and cracking silly jokes. I asked Khamlai about Monks touching women and he said if I was drowning he could jump in and save me because that was helping selflessly. If he "concentrated" though he would be wrong. I guessed that "concentrating" was impure thoughts and so went the joke all afternoon about him not concentrating.
If he could he would love to come to Australia to see our beautiful country and wished he was born there, so he could have been either mine or Kirks boyfriend. Now is that Concentrating??
He such a sweetie I really did consider buying an extra suitcase to pack him into to bring home. I thought he'd be able to survive a long haul flight with all that meditation garp he does and already he goes 19 ours each day without a meal. Perfect really!
Well maybe it'd be a bit hard to explain why I have a orange robed Monk in my suitcase when I went through customs. It was worth a thought.
By this point Kirk and I were starving, considering it was now after 3 pm. So we departed ways only to return that afternoon, arms filled with food offerings and helped the boys clean the grounds of the Watt. A first in history apparently! We didn't quite make the World book of records but we certainly caused a stir at the old Temple. Obviously under the doubtful and stern old eye of their Master.
I think Khamlai may have been in a bit of trouble and old Master may have wondering if he was Concentrating. However Khamlai, I think, is at the point where being a bit of a bad boy would brighten his day....

Walking tour

After we devoured breakfast, Kirk and I, headed off on the suggested walking tour of Vientiane's semi busseling city.
We thought we were walking in the right direction but a few Watts later, we discovered we had actually headed completely in the wrong direction. Eventually we got on track. We stopped at a few Watts that promised some intricate carvings and detailed carvings. All we seemed to get was curious Monks and Novices who wanted to practice their English. All well and good but there is only so many times you can answer " where you from? What's your name? How long have you been in Laos? How long will you be in Vientiane for?" before it starts to wear thin.
So, when very well spoken Khamlai came our way we were groaning under our breath and a little short on our answers. This was going to take us ages considering that most of this walking tour was of the Watts. This young fella however dazzled us with his knowledge of Australia. Definitely more than Kirk and I knew that was for certain. Politely we promised that we would come back tomorrow and part with our little bit of Aussie knowledge, in the exchange for some on Buddha. Honestly, I don't think that either Kirk or myself believed that we would return tomorrow and hot footed to freedom.
We did the circuit with a bit of difficulty. Some call the Lonely Planet the "bible of travel" but whoever wrote the one for Laos should be beaten over the head with it! It's useful for a door stop and the maps are useful for toilet paper.
We rewarded ourselves with a great curry and decided to call the day a day!
More time wasted by the Mekong eating!

Hanoi to Laos

I'm free. I'm free!!
After a 5 am start and a few laps around Hanoi airport to find check in. I boarded the plane to Laos. I sat next to a great Aussie chick by the name of Kirk and we arrived safely at Vientiane airport 55 minutes later. We decided to share a room in the city and were both relieved to leave Hanoi! Laos is definitely different to Vietnam in so many ways. It's definitely much quieter and the people are much friendlier already...Even the taxi drivers! He actually took us to the destination we asked and didn't try to kill us in the process! Miracle really.
After finding a good place to stay we had ourselves a decent breakie and sat there and talked for ages. It seemed like wed be friends for years and it was nice to have someone who understood Aussie humor.
We thought we shouldn't waste the day but it was inevitable. We were so tired after the flight we just played on the net then sat by the river and had a bite to eat. The next day we would make sure we were motivated..

One day in Paradise

I did forget to mention that Steph and I did have one day of Paradise in Hanoi...After we arrived and had that bit of stress with the taxi driver we decided to treat ourselves. Compliments of David, Steph's boyfriend.
We went off to Chocolate and Baguette to treat ourselves to a fantastic lunch. And that we did. Steph and I had the biggest Baguette sandwich full of yummy goodness. After this it was time to let ourselves be pampered and get a massage. However the hotel we were attempting to have a massage at was actually demolished and all that stood there was a pile of rubble. Plan B. We asked around at a tourist office for a massage place and were headed in the direction of a very savvy place indeed. On arrival I knew this was going to be well out of my budget but I was reassured that this treat was on Dave. So firstly we decided on a full body oil massage. This started by us stripping down to a towel and spending 15 minutes in a herbal steam bath. For Steph and I, 15 minutes was too much. We are unaccustomed to breathing in large amounts of hot steam. So we headed for our next stop. 15 minutes in the sauna. Yet again this only lasted 5 till we decided that cooking from the inside out wasn't us and we grabbed a shower. After the shower you don your robe and disposable undies...That's right. These things were so funny Steph and I had to take a photo of each other in them. Then we were ushered in to our massage room where we lay side beside in relaxed comfort. The massage was so good that we decided to go for a facial as well. After picking one for our skin types and a cool fruit shake later, we were ready for more pampering.
I have never had a facial like it. Than again I always went to the collage of beauty so what did I expect? I was massaged, suctioned, rubbed, masked and cleansed. Why though is it always the way that you break out in fits of laughter when the mask is drying away on your face? Steph and I were in uncontrolled fits over the suggestion of a shampoo and blow dry...Or s it just the fact that you know you should be laying there motionless?
After we were buffed and polished we were sent back outside, for yet another shower and to change back in to our clothes. Then we were served lunch!
Ahhh that's the life!
That evening we headed out to see the Water Puppets. This is famous to Vietnam but in particular Hanoi. In the Lonely Planet it says to look around at the magic in the children's faces. Forget the kids. You should have seen Steph and I. We were on the edge of our seats clapping like half Wits. We had so much fun. They use minonet puppets that are on long pieces of wood and strings. The water is the floor of the stage, depicting events from Vietnamese history and lives as the theme. The narration is in Vietnamese and the singing is beautiful and traditional. It was amazing to see. Truly spectaular.