BootsnAll Travel Network



Muang Ngoi: United Nations Chillout

August 24th, 2007

When travelling around Southeast Asia, there’s a fairly well-worn path that most people take. And it is far too easy to follow that path from the comfort of a tourist-only mini-bus getting you from one destination to the next. It tends to shut you off from the country, and it’s easy to feel as though you’re on some sort of school excursion. This is something Bec and I encountered on our last visit, and was at it’s worst on the trip from Luang Prabang south to Vang Vieng and onto the Laos capital of Vientiane.

In order to avoid feeling like lambs this time, we opted to head north from Luang Prabang to the village of Muang Ngoi. We hadn’t heard of the place on our last trip to Laos, and didn’t know anyone who’d been there. Our guidebook gave it a brief mention as a village that could only be reached by boat, so it sounded as though it would be nice and relaxed after the hectic shopping in Luang Prabang. Plus it was pretty much on the way to the Vietnam border crossing closest to Hanoi, which was where we eventually wanted to go. To get to Muang Ngoi, we had to return to the village of Nong Khiaw on the Nam Ou river, from where we could get a boat an hour up river to Muang Ngoi.

Even given that this destination was not on the most common tourist trail, we still had the option of geting a tourist bus or a local bus. Eager to avoid the mini bus, we opted for the local bus. We booked a ticket in town the night before we left, and headed out to the bus station (a patch of dirt on the outskirts of town) early the next morning. Our tuk-tuk driver pulled up next to the bus going to Nong Khiaw; it was a mini bus, and half the people in there had white faces. Oh well, you can’t win them all.

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Luang Prabang: Like an Old Friend

August 21st, 2007

Ahhhh, Luang Prabang. Once Bec’s clothes had dried enough so that she could go outside wearing more than just a bath towel, we wandered the streets as darkness fell and reacquainted ourselves with this beautiful old town. It’s a place that moves slowly, that doesn’t get angry, or flustered, or impatient. It is still a place where young monks can be seen walking the streets in their bright orange robes, with umbrellas held over their heads to shield out the sun. Still a place where the sellers at the fabulous night market greet you with a firendly smile, rather than a depserate plea for you to buy something. Still a place where you can sit at an open-air restaurant on the banks of the Mekong and sup on dollar beers and eat delicious fish.

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Nam Ou river: Water World

August 19th, 2007

We strolled down to the boat pier in Nong Khiaw pretty early in the morning, hoping to see if a boat was heading south down the Nam Ou to Luang Prabang.

“Hmmm, come back at 10.30,” said the guy in charge of selling tickets.

It’s great the way travelling forces you to relax, and just let things happen rather than trying to force them. Especially when you journey through a country as laid back as Laos. If this country was any more laid back it’d disappear in a haze of it’s own, well, it’s not apathy, it’s not laziness, more a nonchalance that dominates the atmosphere. And so up until 10.30am that morning, we didn’t know if we’d be on a bus or a boat to Luang Prabang. Heading back to the boat pier, and approaching the group of ten or so guys just lounging around in the shade, doing nothing in particular, and in which our ticket-selling firend was relaxing, we found out that yes, a boat would be going at 11am.

Sweet. Finally, I’d get the beautiful boat ride I’d been hoping for back here in Laos.

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Nong Khiaw: Chocolate Water

August 18th, 2007

From Huay Xai, we had originally wanted to travel by boat north to Luang Nam Tha. There was nothing we wanted to see in Luang Nam Tha, we were going there simply for the boat ride, which was said to be beautiful. The reason we still got a bus to Luang Nam Tha was based on a recommendation from some South African guy in the travel place in Huay Xai we were in.

As we asked the lady behind the desk about getting a boat up north, he chimed in with “Yeah, instead you can get a boat from Nong Khiaw to Luang Prabang. Beautiful trip.”

There was nothing in the guide book about the trip, other than to say that every few weeks one cargo boat made the trip from Luang Prabang up to Nong Khiaw. But we put our faith in the random stranger, and booked the bus to Luang Nam Tha, which was on the way to Nong Khiaw.

What amazes me now is that we didn’t even question the decision to trust this guy. When you travel, the faith you put in the other people around you can sometimes be overwhelming. But you just don’t think about it. You trust them, and if things don’t work out, well, you just deal with it. That’s life.

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Huay Xai: Payment

August 6th, 2007

After returning to Huay Xai and reflecting on the madness of the Gibbon Experience with the others whilst taking a few group photos, we were returned to reality with a jolt when we once again attempted to pay for the Experience on our Visa.

The young Laos girl running the office put the card through, and we waited hopefully.

Denied.

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Bokeo Province Jungle: Tracking Gibbons

August 5th, 2007

We woke a little after 5am to the sounds of sirens floating through the jungle. That’s what they sounded like, the gibbons. Like sirens. Their beautiful singing was a continually rising and dipping note, that soared between the trees. We couldn’t see them, but they were close.

At 5.30am we heard the distinctive whiz of someone on a zip line coming towards the treehouse. It was our guide, bringing with him some fresh fruit to snack on before we hit the jungle floor and went tracking gibbons. For about twenty minutes we followed a narrow muddy track through the jungle, before the guide, a tiny man, maybe five foot three and dressed all in black, turned off the path and into the jungle proper. Bec and I followed as best we could, stepping gingerly, pushing huge leaves and branches out of our faces, grimacing when we reached out a hand to support ourselves and landed on a spiked stem. The guide stopped, and we listened for the gibbons’ call. This way, he pointed, and we raced through the jungle as fast as we could.

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In the Jungle: The Gibbon Proposal

August 4th, 2007

If someone had told me ten years ago that I would propose to my girlfriend in the north of Laos, in the middle of the jungle, at the top of a tree in a private treehouse that could only be reached via a zip line (just hook your harness onto the cable and let gravity do it’s thing. Like this…), my reaction would have been something like “That’s crazy! As if I’ll have a girlfriend!”

But on Thursday July 26th, that’s exactly what happened. Here’s how it all went down…..

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Chiang Khong: Old Buddies

August 3rd, 2007

Happy to be leaving Chiang Mai, we hopped on a bus early one morning for the six hour trip to the Thai-Laos border. The sleepy village of Chiang Khong on the Thai side was our destination. We’d been there before, when we first came to Southeast Asia a year-and-a-half ago (Damn, where did that time go?!), and were keen to visit the friendliest guesthouse owner in the world; Sayan, at the Easy Restaurant/Guesthouse.

I think for both of us, we didn’t really feel as though we were back on the travel road until we stepped off that bus in the early afternoon, threw ourselves and our bags into a tuk-tuk, and noisily chugged off down the rain-sodden street. The wind in our faces woke us up, and brought to life the fact that we were no longer staying put, that each day would bring some new adventure. It felt great!

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Chiang Mai: Going through the Motions

August 1st, 2007

The heat and wanna-be hippies of Bangkok forced us onto an overnight bus to Chiang Mai, Thailand`s second city and a twelve hour bus ride away. The twelve hours started with the bus driver taking forty-five minutes to complete a lap of Sanam Luang, a huge park in the middle of Bangkok. It was peak hour traffic, around 6pm, and we inched around the park with the other cars, never stopping to pick anyone up, just driving round in circles for forty-five minutes for the hell of it. Oh well, what can you do, eh?

I had a refreshingly comfortable night`s sleep on the bus, and we arrived in the drizzle of Chiang Mai by 8am. But rather than arriving at the bus station, we were dropped at a service station outside of town, then taken in a tuk-tuk with all the other backpakcers from the bus to a guesthouse where the owner tried to sell us a room and some tours. We politelz declined, drank our complimentary tea, and then got the hell out of there.

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Bangkok: A not so friendly greeting

July 21st, 2007

Our last morning in Kathmandu was spent visiting the kids at our orphanage (didn’t take long did it – three months there and all of a sudden it’s our orphanage), and the kids at Dhaulagiri House who we continued to visit frequently while Conor was away in the United States.

The tradition in Nepal is to wish a departing visitor good luck by presenting them with a tikka; a big red dollop of gluggly rice that is stuck to your forehead. And so at each house we had our foreheads smeared red by the house managers. At Sagarmatha the kids also broke out into song for us. Quite humbling.

We arrived in Bangkok in the early evening, and headed to a backpakers hostel in the Sukhimvit area, The Suk 11, away from the traditional backpakcers haven of Khao San Road, after it received glowing recommendations on Bootnsall.com, the website that hosts this here blog.

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