Grand Voyages, Great Lies

Cuts and Bruises;

…..Whose idea was it to put alcohol next to a  river inhabited by jagged rocks? ….Along with mass loud music to contrast the ominous back drop of overcast skies and dark, strangely ,blackened green mountains?…. Plus the inconvenience of a building sight before you step into the bars, concrete and stones knocking around, then100s of half naked 20ish year olds drinking copious amounts from buckets….. and then being permitted to fling themselves from great heights with the added animal-ism of a trapeze? Give them some marker pens,body paint,cameras and no inhibitions…and oh yeah they can drink straight spirits laced with snakes and hornets for FREE- who ever was hideous enough to imagine such things…and let them become reality??- well…if your out there…I adore you.

This is Vang Veing, Laos…

…..The infamous tubing river talked about in awe by so many travelers of the partying style….where water tubing is the name but the actual activity is definitely not on the agenda-why? A tube is pointless because, surprisingly with a river full of bars offering free booze the mass party never really brawls past the 4th bar….. the only time people are in the water is when their somersaulting off the swings and zip lines, playing a game of alcohol enhanced volley ball or getting pushed in to the battered river by a potential or current ‘friend’ or ‘lover'( I use these terms very loosely.) Other than that the main thing in the water must be reminisces of the hornet and dead snake whiskey -which is a novelty- and also free…..the alcohol percentage of the river is surely akin to a premium beer by now with all the spills, throws and little Laos girls emptying failed buckets.

Off course their not mop buckets….I’m pretty sure that would result in more death, from experience the buckets can  hold 2/3s of a  bottle of whiskey with a smattering of lemonade (mixer of your choice) and a fair amount of ice…….and a few hornets plus various missing legs from their friends.

To put this in perspective this is just the day time…night offers a whole new scene with the imaginatively named ‘Bucket Bar’ offering free buckets and music to dance all night to on platforms around fires….the other clubs that side of the haggled bridge offer similar experiences, and like at the river the crowd moves on as one and continue till 6am (though frequenting still no more then 3 bars….)

Its beautiful, hellish, amazing, surreal, gnarly and cheap…but mostly I know that if I had a soul, I would of lost it in Vang Veing….the cuts and the busies would make a concrete wall proud. We never knew walking could be so difficult, I have a total of nine cuts just on one foot, my back despises me and my vital organs….especially heart and lungs are refusing to co-operate with one another.

We have been Vang Vieng-ed…luckily my injuries are as less visible then Kate’s and I’m sure shes in quite a bit more pain…. a swollen finger being the least of her worries followed by a bruise the size of Sweden on her thigh- a whole new meaning to treacherous waters since she flipped from one of the swings. Plus just to show that accidents are more likely to happen in the home, she achieved a a gash on her chin from slipping on a flip flop….I wish it had been a banana skin for cliched comical value- though we really mustn’t laugh- it cost 20quid for 3stiches at the conveniently placed ‘Hopital de Vang Veing’… to be fair I thought the hospital would be a little rushed seeing as the combination of alcohol and rocky rivers/rope swings/bridges, but the staff had no one else to repair and Kate seemed a mild form of entertainment…. especially after the wound was cleaned and stitched and the comedy bandage we’d joked about on the way there actually became reality..

The experience has to be seen to be believed I could write a book just on the things we’ve seen/heard done in the last 5 days. My advice for people as they roll in however….is ‘Get out while you can’ ….(naturally this spurs them on as they know they’re in for a gnarly but fun time.) Just 2 days and this town is to small- from what i watch when i rise early one day ; war wounds, shoe-less walks of shame and ‘bhang’ overs are an essential part of this place it seems….

15hrs is a long time in side a car…

After our hellish journey to get here we hould of known what to expect.

We left Chaing Mai on a 5hr mini bus ride to the border on the way we stop for a ‘toilet break’..except this is no ordinary stop, we’ve landed at ‘The White Temple’ (not that we’d heard of it before but its something of a tourist attraction) without being told, and after being jolted awake, seeing an incredibly beautiful and unexpected fairy ,ice queen esque palace is mind boggling to say the least…….we just step out of the van and its there behind the toilets….no info, no explanation from our driver, just handfuls of Thai tourists and this beautifully ornate white temple compiled of from many buildings in a royal icing like sculpture….

on schedule we arrive at the border town..its obviously been going too well so far….so we were then told that it was impossible for us to carry on with our journey the same day and we must leave in the morning instead….Thankfully it wasn’t to difficult to negotiate (after some insistence) free accommodation and a meal as ‘compensation’- though the witchy woman we dealt with did hate us as we refused to by her dollar, needed for the visa fee -at an extortionate exchange rate .

A tad narked but accepting that this is how things are in south east Asia..we spent the rest of that day walking and finding some creature comforts (wine and good noodle soup) Little did we know we’d be much worse off the next day…..already 12hrs behind schedule we jump on the boat to cross the river….actually we’d seriously considered swimming it or commandeering a boat after the wine the evening before,…at that point we didn’t know the small river was actually the border. Damn we could of just swum to Laos.

We exchange baht for Kip, another new currency and one that would mess a bit with our heads due to one pound being 12000 Kip,luckily everything is cheaper in Laos then in Thailand so spending becomes easier…..also helped along by the alcohol…

We get our visa and then are told that leaving before 5pm is not negotiable..and its 9.30am. Bullshit. Then they say we can leave at 12 if we take local transport despite the fact we have paid for a mini bus. More bullshit.If it was India I wouldn’t of booked anything in advance and hopped on and off local buses all the way….but South East Asia seems to want to only offer private transport to tourists, and in packages. Maybe if I become as accustomed to here as I did India and Neapal then ill find cheaper, less scam prone way to travel….but I’m new to this game, language and cost of living.

Eventually were told for an extra 20,000kip we can leave at 10am on the mini bus….we consider paying….then as we take a long time deciding, the guy gives in to our group of 12 and takes us to a mini bus that will drive us to Vang Vieng with no extra cost then what we have already paid. So basically we end up getting what we were promised for the fee we paid…They’ll try to get anything out of you honestly, though coming from India we accept that’s how things are, there’s no point being angry, we got what we wanted in the end, at least we are moving even if we cant take the original 12hr delay back

The mini bus in itself isn’t that bad, though it is full, has little leg room for the smallest person but its bearable,and decent on any normal journey…. the 15hr drive on road still being built ( we even stop for 30min to actually wait for a road to dry) is hideously bumpy so sleep is not an option….15hrs is a long time inside a car without sleep and we naurally become delirious and amuse ourselves with ridiculous and stupid things, stories from our new found friends ..unfortunately to add to the trauma Mr, Jelly ,our driver- insisted on playing 90s pop at full blast…and not the good stuff…..Backstreet Boys, A1, Boyzone and Westlife amongst the worst. Plugging into your i-pod isn’t that easy when at full volume you can still here Ronan Keating and Five…and the insult to the injury was a quite inappropriate lady, of around 40 making comments I will not repeat should you ever want to look at a banana in the same way again….lets just call her May.

Among our team was an entertaining Canadian….(his tattoo he showed us right above his crotch confirmed his nationality) and some girls from New Zealand both of which we would spend time with over the next few days (as if 15hrs of each other wasn’t enough) in Luang Praubhang- our introduction to Laos and Vang Veing The patriotic Nate ‘hospital’ Canada and Kiwis were a refreshing and wonderful escape from some of the absolute twats that turn up or are born out of Vang Veing due to the nakedness and alcohol. Though we couldn’t of been much better ourselves seen as one ‘Mojito Dan’ shouted for paracetmol everytime we stepped near the bar he promoted…though in my opinion it was his own fault…he asked us if we had any questions…and yes..yes we did..

Where was the free alcohol he spoke of? How long was it free for? How much did he get paid? Where was the free whiskey he claimed to know of? What time were the bars open till? Where was the free gin buckets he wanted to give us?

And that was just the first night……after all of the cuts and bruises above, we got out alive…surprisingly.

Soo I figure I’ve been here 10 days in Paraganj.

Everyone in Delhi is waiting for something

where it be flights, visas, passports, friends, a miracle.

Sometimes its all five.

Clearly Nepal and Corbett stole the last of my cynicism which the beauty and dirt of India had chipped away at and diminish…but the waiting in Delhi has seen it all safely back to my door.

The metros here are a miracle amongst the current mud of the main bazaar…they are cleaner then London underground(though without the retro yellow tiles and the history)again they work because their complicated. And with the commonwealth games been held here this summer security is in training….your wiped all over with a metal detector then your bag has to go through the magical machine that can see through cloth, leather, sheep skin and any other material your luggage maybe made out of. So basically its like airport security every time you get the metro, though without the need for your passport. You do however- ever since the bombings in Delhi last year,need your passport for using any internet cafe or hotel.

I went to the Central Secretariat area yesterday….amazed at the cleanliness of the streets and whose colonial majestic buildings were is all their grandeur on the road leading from the presidency towards India gate, was comparable to the Champs Elysees. I walked despited the pavements being empty as most people where on tour buses. Then was taken by rickshaw to Lodhi gardens, a loverly chilled out place with some ancient temple ruins and many gardens of specific species including the inevitable couple who can escape the sin of PDA by hiding in some bushes or on a well placed bench….

A lot in all sights in Delhi are limited to yet more temples, a fort and many a bazaar. All of which I have seen many many and so rather then do the usual, pay to get there, get confused, pay to get in, take a picture and look at stones, in my highly cynical mood I’d rather just come across such sights. Simply wondering and finding is more thrilling then the planning and anticipation no matter how big or small that may be…..I think Ill marry an explorer…I was clearly born in the wrong time, we know too much about the world already, and in my current mood I hate how useful guide books are.

I get the feeling in Delhi sights are made to be sights. Thats tourism. And stopping outside the red fort on my first metro trip with some Brits we declined to go in because off the price and closing time was looming. I suggested I do it another day….but another fort? Have I the energy? The interest? Any enthusiasm? In every city we visited in Rajasthan had an ancient fort…each different though some more magnificent then others, either way it was seriously outdone by those in Rajasthan (land of the kings after all) which were more interesting and impressive then the outside of the not so exciting castle-. Ancient empires Mohgals in particular only interest me to a certain extent because in my mind its too far away to fathom….theres always something at the back of my mind telling me that its a conspiracy…..

When Merav arrived however we day tripped to Chandigarh, 5hrs on a decent train there and back and 5hrs in the city. Which both freaked and amazed. I mean, the shops had doors. There were side walks. The whole city was organized in to blocks, called sectors, so asking to be dropped at sector 17 was like volunteering to enter a horror movie. It reminded me of a quite kind of retail park, except that it was a city. I suppose the fact that the city had been destroyed and rebuilt accounted for its modern un-indian feel, but the fact that we were still in India was hard to fathom. The main reason for our visit was the Chandi rock garden. I guy who had used all the industrial waste when the city was destroyed to create a beautiful yet surreal garden on government land. Walls covered in plates and hundreds of statues made from anything; bangles to bottle caps. The whole place had a Gaudi feel to it and we could easily have spent a long time wondering round this still growing park. Concrete structures made to look like trees and mosaic of tigers, miniature palaces and swings placed between Greek columns. Water cascades down a 20ft wall green with moss and slime, while above statues, almost Tim Burton esque stand guard above. This place was popular with Indians who saw the beauty in the place and even met their girlfriends here with flowers on pre-valentine dates.

Met some British guys one night that enforced the stereotype and reminded me why I vowed to marry an Indian tribal chief…‘and the (Indian) boys go on and on and on and on and on and on……’ you can meet so many people in Paraganj, westerners and Indian alike, and I find that theres even nice shop keepers in Delhi who don’t want to blow kisses at you. The attitude to western girls is as such that and 8yr old creepily blew me a kiss in the way that the men did……but hey thats tourism, business. Ive met some nice people as well who haven’t made the attempt to get me to their shops or been in anyway creepy, just interested to talk a little. Ive been subconsciously drinking in groups of people whose home countries ll start with the same letter, one night A’s, the Aussies, Americans, Africa and Austrians, the next night M’s. The only constant being me and cheap gin, as mostly people are celebrating their leaving Delhi. But I’m with the waiting. I’m glad of the people that send drinks to your table at MY bar, where Miss Laura is a regular. ‘...it should be called YOUR bar..‘ Ive clearly been in Delhi far too long, but Miss Katya herself will be here finally if India excepts her and wine shall be drunk.

I was picked up from the hotel by a guy on a motor bike who I ... [Continue reading this entry]