Reporting In

A Post Of Few Words

If all goes well, I'll be in Vietnam once again tomorrow. After that I will be heading either east or north, depending on bus connections. If all keeps going well after that, I'll will have done both Sapa and Halong Bay before my flight home, so that 'some people' can get off my back about it. As you might have gathered, I'm less than enthusiastic about returning to Vietnam, so things can only be less bad than expected. In theory.

I've been spending most of the past week in a bus, zigzagging between Laos' severely damaged northern mountains and exploring some towns and villages. My feelings are mixed, thanks to "development" and huge garbage issues. It reminded me of everyone's favorite pirate captain answering his worst friend after he remarks that "The world has become a smaller place."

"No, there's just less in it."

The Lao up here are friendly as ever, so no complaints there. Given the fact that I'm now in a quite remote region and internet prices are astronomical, I'll leave it at that :).

Run To The Hills

Whelp, that looks nice.

More Time, Please

Boat heading north

With just two weeks left in Laos -sniff-, I decided to leave Luang Prabang early and got lucky getting my behind on a boat heading north. 

A seven hour boat ride took me and Anita, a 36-year old woman from Austria who's actually from Switzerland but also kind of from the US, from Luang Prabang to Nong Khiaw, a small town surrounded by karst mountains and the Nam Ou river. There we were greeted by dramatic scenery, cheap accommodation, great food and a working ATM, as the ones in fancy-pants Luang Prabang refused to give me any money. Taking my money was somewhat less of a problem, although I bargained hard for my precious little artifacts in the local night market, all of which hopefully make it home in one piece.

Boat not heading north

The Mist, without the interdimensional carnivores

From Nong Khiaw it went to Nong Khiaw Neua, an only reachable by boat kind of village that depends on generators to provide its power between 6 and 10 PM. There I was invited to a big party after buying a Lao phrasebook, as two of the villagers were going to celebrate the first month of their baby's life the following day by giving him a name and by getting everybody drunk. By the time I got there, and had said goodbye to Vietnam-bound Anita, most Lao were already speaking somewhat slurred and very loudly, so my visit was brief but powerful. I got there late because I trotted of following a sign that said 'minority village - 2 km'. I ended up never finding the village after walking for three hours, but I came across stunning views and a funny little checkpoint where I had to pay 10.000 kip. One of the highlights of this trip.

Scenic

Scouting Ahead

As I'm running around like a madman in order to see all I want to see up here, most impressions given are really brief as most visits are really brief. I intend on scouting the north of Laos for interesting spots because I'm positively sure I will return here one day if I can, with a budget (or an adventurous party) that will make the multiple day treks affordable.

The Road To Sam Neua

Duct tape to the rescue

Yesterday, a big crane was parked in the middle of the road, extending the bus ride from Nong Khiaw to Sam Neua from 11 hours to 14 hours. The 300+ km road is somewhat known among Lao as The Road Of A Thousand Turns, offering scenic views, one road villages and a lot of  let's-just-fall-asleep-in-the-middle-of-the-road cows. Unfortunately, this road is the stuff of nightmares for most Lao, as they seem as prone to carsickness as their Cambodian and Vietnamese counterparts. We arrived in the mist shrouded Sam Neua bus station around 2 am and I ended up sharing a room with a 38 year old Lao from Luang Prabang, who is here with five colleagues for additional schooling on something that is called the 'Poverty Reduction Fund', which sounds straightforward enough. The following needs to be mentioned: The last hour of driving through the hills was stunning with hills shrouded in mist and the clearest star-riddled sky I've ever seen. That alone was worth the fourteen hours of supporting sleeping Lao, passing out plastic bags for sick Lao and, last but not least, stopping in the middle of nowhere to do some exercise with Lao.

Sam Neua itself is peaceful, in-your-face Communist and uncomfortably close to Vietnam, which is tangible by the way people treat you, unfortunately. Though not all is bad, as the Lao people are still very friendly but yes, the neighbors to the east imported their grumpyness, staring habits and their grotesquely disgusting table manners. Can't wait to get back there next month. Ahem.

Sam Neua

Sam Neua is also famous for a cave system that was used by the now ruling party to hide from bombs and whatnot. Were it not so expensive and were it that I had more time in this country, I'd definetely go there.

Coming up tomorrow: the 11 to an infinite amount of hours on the bus back to Nong Khiaw.

Bring it.

Whoopsie Daisy

Breakdown In Paradise

The sleeperbus to Luang Prabang was the priciest yet, thanks to my own laziness. Picking up the habit of relaxing after arriving in oh so calm Vientiane, I decided to book my bus to Luang Prabang through the guesthouse. That cost me 20 euro's and as if karma had something to do with it, the 8 hour bus ride became a 20 hour journey thanks to the breaking down of the bus, leaving us stranded some 200 km from our destination. After some negotiating with another bus driver that happened to pass us by with an almost empty bus, we took the 5 euro per person deal and hopped on the far less luxurious, but far more functional alternative. Hours slept: 3.

This caught fire at some point

'We' at this point were about 17 falang, with nine of us ending up in the same guesthouse and having a small celebration in Luang Prabang.

Paradise City

Luang Prabang is a beautiful place. Some of the temples here are over 500 years old and for a culture nut as myself, there is plenty to see and to do. It remains to be seen for how long this place is going to be as laid back as it is, as a Chinese built railway connection is under construction and is expected to be finished in 2014. Not only will this connect Luang Prabang with the Hungry Dragon, but also with the capital Vientiane. The airport in Luang Prabang is being expanded and tuktuk drivers are already more pushy here than in the rest of the country.

Luang Prabang offers temples, stores, a night market, restaurants and so far, good company in the form of the previously mentioned nine people.

Having slept four hours last night because I wanted to see the monks at dawn here , my brain is doing overtime, so I'm just going to say: "Here are some pictures, enjoy." 

Nightmarket

Bartering with 12 year olds.

Depending on a plethora of factors, I might be catching the boat tomorrow up north. Anywhom, 'up north' is sort of less developed, so extended radio silence should not be unusual.

Laos remains more than just a little pleasant so far.

Khop Chai Lailai

I think I'm in love.

After three very hectic days that came after three very lazy days in Laos, I've arrived in the capital Vientiane, which seems about as crowded as my hometown on a sunday.

Tad Lo


After three days near the Mekong, I headed east of the river and into the Bolaven Plateau. There is so much to say about this place, that I'm not even going to bother trying to say everything. The small village of Tad Lo made a huge impression on me, not in small measure thanks to the fantastic Mr.Bah. He runs the Pamaly guesthouse, helps you get to the most interesting places, gets you a seat on the family's dinner table and above all is a very honest man.

On my first day there, he rented me a mountain bike, fit for a twelve year old. Needless to say, it was the best bike I've had on this trip so far. Sure, I didn't have that much room to maneuver but this thing had gears, so no real risk of breaking my chain again on one of the numerous slopes.

Kind of funny

I went to a waterfall called Tat Suong, which is subjugated to the will of a local hydroelectric dam as to just how much water flows over the edge. When I arrived there, I could walk (read :climb, fall, slip) all the way up to the point where the water crashed into the jagged rocks below. There I met a french couple and some local kids who were heading for the pools that are formed by the waterfall, to take a swim.


I'm a really bad estimator, so estimating that this thing was about 125 meters high could be way of the mark. Then we'll just stick to the fact that it felt huge and threatening.

Near the waterfall is a village that looks like the set of 'the Others' Village' from Lost. The retro-seventies design didn't turn out to be retro at all, as the hydroelectric dam that gave birth to the place was built there about 35 years ago, sending power to Thailand, China or Vietnam. The employers live in the village, behind a wall and a spiked fence. Jolly.

Then came day two, where Mr.Bah sent me off and I went to a local minority village. Here there was no power and more than half of the villagers didn't even speak Lao, as they never went to school. The local school is about 30 years old and when I went to take a look, the teacher came out and ran a big bell. Out came kids running, yelling 'Falang!' (Foreigner!) and 'Sabaidy!' (Hello). Before I could make my mind up on whether to turn around and walk away, I was literally surrounded by 4 to 13 -year olds who formed up a circle around me and fell pretty much silent. When I moved closer to the boys and girls in front of me, they walked backwards while the ones in front of me followed me.

Then I decided to show them my camera, and as half expected, some of the kids ran away screaming. A camera is a curious thing around these parts, as some minorities are known to suspect that they lose their soul when a picture is taken. It wasn't complete pandemonium though, as the screaming kids just went to stand behind me, while some brave souls stood defiantly and went on to encourage me to to take a picture. I took a few and showed the results to them, which 'drew a few laughs from the crowd' as they say.

'Go ahead, make my day'

Then, walking back through the amazing scenery , I noticed that the Tat Suong waterfall was in 'full force'. Overnight the electric company had decided to let it flow again for a little while. When I asked Mr.Bah about this, he said 'Well, I sure hope nobody tried to camp near the waterfall last night.'. Dry.

Scenery

Night At The Busstation

 Ok, so I spent a night in a bus station. The bus from Tad Lo arrived in Tah Keak at about 01:20 AM and the bus to Vieng Khem left at 05:30 AM. This, and the fact that the nearest guesthouse was a comfy 5 km away, had me deciding on staying the remaining hours on the well lit and surprisingly crowded bus station. I ended up talking to a guy from Lao and two guys from Vietnam, where my Vietnamese phrasebook saved the night.

Kong Lo

That morning, I was off to Kong Lo Cave. A cave that is about 6 and a half kilometers long, crossable on boat only. Seeing the daylight disappearing in the distance and floating through parts of the cave that are over 100 meters high are awe and/or shock inspiring. I had a headlight, a Petzl  (you know, those good ones) and not being able to see the ceiling is somewhat concerning. Think Mines of Moria with water but without Gandalf's staff, and you're good. Think Pitch Black or Doom 3 and you're pretty much looking over your shoulder all the time.

'Aw crap, we still need to go back!'

Bus rides, More Bus rides!

Having skipped a night of sleep had me craving for one of the super comfortable sleeper buses which Laos, like Vietnam, has to offer. What I got, was an 8-hour bus ride in the most rundown bus I've ever sat in. The seats were either broken, almost broken or just not there. The bus driver drove extremely carefully (take notes Vietnam), which got us to Vientiane safely, but it took us a while to get there...

Good thing I didn't take a picture of the hole in the ceiling.

In Vientiane it was 2 am, again. But this time I got myself to a guesthouse, with the help of (another) friendly Laotian that unfortunately kept on taking the wrong turns, even after asking for directions. After an hour of seeing everything nightly Vientiane has to offer - ten cars, four motorcycles and a bus -, I finally ended up where I wanted to go and had the best night's sleep in ages.

Vientiane

This town is quiet for a capital, thus is scoring big points for me. Another highlight of this trip is the COPE organisation, It has a small museum dedicated to the UXO (unexploded ordinance) problem Laos faces thanks to American bombings during the Vietnam war, who were 'never there' in the first place. To this day, Laos remains the most bombed country in the world and every year about 300 people lose their lives to a war they had nothing to do with. The stories told there are moving to say the least and the staff is very friendly, some of them have fallen victim to UXO's themselves. They were screening a documetary called 'Bomb Harvest', which, without a shadow of doubt, you should see if you can.

Subtelty Doesn't Get You Extra Credit

And Everything Was Going So Well...

I left Kratie in the most uncomfortable seat available in the minivan: the backseat, next to the rear speakers of the van while the most horrendous local karaoke music tore my eardrums apart. It helped a little that I had barely slept the previous night so that I was barely conscious most of the way.

After a couple of hours of semi torment, we had to trade our minivan for a coach. This provided more comfort, but also some discomfort in the form of a young Cambodian that would "fix" our Lao visas at the border for a friendly 40 dollars, except for me, I'd have to pay 50 dollars for overstaying my visa two days and got a rebuke for 'losing' my departure card that had been in my passport earlier but was torn out by a hotel employee in Phnom Penh. For the record: the fine for overstaying is 5 dollars a day, so no problems there.

The "problem there" was one: Lao visas cost anywhere between 30 and 42 dollars, depending on your nationality. Not having met any Belgians that had done this crossing recently, none of us - three Belgians present in the bus - knew how much exactly we'd have to pay. Same went for a Hungarian couple, a guy from Japan and two guys from the Netherlands. There were two Britons with us as well, but they had arranged their visa in Phnom Penh.  Two: that this guy, fluent in english, japanese, french and khmer was a little too smooth of a personality, who had claimed our bus tickets in exchange for 'the real bus tickets' we were going to need once we got to the Lao side of the border. Important detail: everyone had gotten their bus tickets but me. Three: the two other Belgians didn't bring enough money, as they were counting on a 32 dollar visa. At this point the Hungarians had decided to do the border crossing themselves, the rest of us were in doubt but had given our passports to the man already.

After some arguing amongst barang (foreigners) and basic mathematics, we realized this wasn't going to work, neither financially nor emotionally, as we all agreed on the fact that our smooth Cambodian friend was a bit of a douchebag, looking to make some money on the side. Thus we arrived at the following solution: We get our passports back.

The honor was all mine to ask them back, which I did. This made our Khmer friend somewhat nervous, up to the point that he didn't want to give me 'the real bus ticket'. I asked about three times, politely, doing my very best not to lose my temper. Then when he still refused, I took his packet of pink paper slips, ready to tear one off and to make my own 'real bus ticket'. This almost sent the kind man overboard as he started yelling and making vague threats about hitting me. I then kindly asked my old ticket back, which he gave me, assuring me it was worthless anyway.

By now the bus had stopped at the border, we got out of the bus and queued for the border crossing. Now he was venting all his verbal fury on me, screaming that he'd have me arrested, that I was in his country illegally and that I'd never leave Cambodia because I had lost my departure card. He walked up to one of the guys in suits, started yelling at him, pointing enthusiastically in my direction. This man looked in my direction, grabbed his smartphone (!!) and went aside to make a phone call.

Admittedly, I was sure I was screwed at this point. I asked the Belgians for a cellphone and braced myself for whatever the Cambodians would throw in my direction. I had the number of our embassy in one hand, hoping to use it as leverage, and my wallet in the other, in case the locals were unimpressed with the threat of the surprised voice of an aide to an ambassador and I'd have to buy myself some loyalty.

Awaiting a response from the man with the smartphone, I just kept on progressing in the queue, slowly working my way to immigration. Then I arrived there, was asked to pay a ten dollar fine for the overstay, got a new departure ticket, had to pay 2 dollar 'processing fee' and before I could say: 'Whoopsydaisy' I was standing in the no man's land between Cambodia and Laos with a stamped passport. Looking around, I couldn't find Mr. Smooth Operator, nor the immigration officer with the smartphone. I decided not to give it too much thought, turned around and headed for Lao immigration.

There we were charged 2 dollars 'processing fee' and 36 for the visa. Attentive readers and mathematical prodigies will have noticed that the amount paid by doing it ourselves equals the amount we'd have to pay the Cambodian, only if he didn't come up with some last minute additional fees, which I can't say he would have. Not so much for the Hungarians, their visa was 31 dollars, so they got off cheaper.

Then it was on to the minibus and boat to Don Det, where it became apparent that I wasn't out of the woods yet. When we had to board the boat, one bright young Laotian noticed that my ticket looked completely different from the others (big white sheet with ugly handwriting compared to a pink printed slip). He decided not to give me the blue slip I needed to get on the boat and went on telling that to his colleague, the captain. Lucky for me, there was an elderly man sitting behind the counter who already had a blue slip in his hand and had intended to give it to me, before his junior colleague stopped him. By now my shoulder was sticking to the ticket booth with my arm reaching for the hand of the elderly man. He looked up, smiled and passed me the ticket. I lipped a 'thank you' and he sent me on my way nodding approvingly. I moved to the pier, gave 'the captain' the blue slip and I was allowed on the boat, leaving the attentive young Laotian somewhat grumpy towards me and his senior colleague.

15 Minutes later I arrived in Don Det, where I barely moved for three days and spent most of the time in a hammock, looking on as the great Mekong river flowed by.

The Irrawaddy Dolphin

 Before leaving Kratie, two Belgian girls (the same ones that ended up on the bus with me) offered me the opportunity to see the world's most endangered freshwater dolphin. These dolphins live in small pods, the one in Kratie has about 50-ish members. There is a video, which you will all see later, where they are somewhat visible :).

Laos and blogging is going to be somewhat challenging, to say nothing of photos and videos. But I try.

The Geek Of The Wild

The eye of the beholder

Geeking Out

'Holy shit!'

The very first words that Jack Highwood - conservationist, elephant expert, geek  - ever said to me, while I was holding four dollars' worth of bananas. To be honest, he wasn't exactly what I expected of him either: this savior of elephants is about as tall as I am, a little skinnier around the shoulders, balding but with plenty of facial hair, has somewhat of a beer belly and bright twinkling blue eyes you'd rather attribute to, I don't know, someone else...

He drove me and about 7 other people to his Elephant Valley Project, gave us a brief explanation on what was going to happen in the following hours and shared his dream of building a gigantic reception building. Two days and a lot of geekisms later, he informed me that he would want it in the shape of the Jurassic Park gate, with the torches and everything.

Down we went, sliding our way down the muddy path to Elephant Heaven, which is ironically pretty much the lowest point in the sanctuary. There we were greeted by four elephants and their mahouts, who were throwing buckets of water at them.A few minutes later the bananas I brought came in handy, as we offered them to the elephants, their trunks inquisitively sniffing and curling around our arms and hands. Needless to say this is something I had never done before, and probably will never do again, unless I go back there.

Mister Highwood

We followed the elephants to another part of the sanctuary, with Jack carrying around a eight and a half year old girl named Logan.

'I feel like Hodor, Game Of Thrones, anyone?'

Jaw, meet jungle dirt.

The biggest shock was yet to come though and came by way of him asking me if I played any MMO's. 'Sure' I said, 'I've played World Of Warcraft for four years.'

'But' said he, 'World of Warcraft is for babies... Eve Online, now that's for geeks.'

Eve, for the unknowing, is a Massive Mulitplayer Online RolePlaying  Space Game (MMORPSG, if you will), which has about 600,000 subscribers, where you conquer the universe by forming alliances, betraying some people and getting shot at all the time . I had never played it and had never even met anyone that played it, but there, somewhere between me and four full grown female elephants in the middle of Cambodian jungle, stood the first Eve Online player I had ever seen and he convinced me to give it a shot when I went back home. And we yet had to bring Wing Commander memories to the table. ('They just don't make games like that anymore...')

'Clever girl'

More On The Quadrupeds, Please

There are twelve elephants at the sanctuary and one of them is male. His name is Bob and he is somewhat of an angry elephant. In comes Union, a girl elephant that can't seem to get enough of Bob. Hopes are that they make the first Elephant Valley baby and that Jack gets to call it Shotgun.

The rest are females, ranging from young ones to old ones (over 60 years old!), nice ones to troubled ones and skinny ones to fat ones.

'Move it or lose it'

During my stay, I went to Elephant Heaven twice, went to a washing station and washed elephants with a hose, hosing water in their trunks so they could spray their mouths full. I've walked next to them, got out of their way, stood in their dung and patted some of them on the forehead. I jinxed a generator and carried pieces of banana tree up a hill so that elephants could stand on them and eat the good parts. I've helped planting mango and avocado trees, got blisters on my hands and walked around the place smelling like a million bucks. I met very interesting people, some irritating ones as well, and had a very good time staying there. If you haven't figured it out just yet: this place is a must-see, must-do and a must-experience kind of place.


Thank you Jack, for making me feel old, young, useful, useless, hopeful, excited and smelly all at the same time.

Someone get this guy a medal and a blank cheque.

They are there as well

Ignorance Is Bliss

For the first time since leaving home, I really don't know where to start, what to say and maybe most important: what not no say.

Two Nights, Three Days

I made it into the jungle. That alone made the journey north to the Ratanakiri Province a succes. I swam in a waterfall, crossed streams fully clothed, rode a boat, swam in a river, met local tribes, accidently smacked the guide walking behind me with a branch, slept in a hammock and as final highlight: took a dump in the woods. What more is there to crave? The company was two guides strong and three people from Germany, one from Canada, one from Norway and myself. Enjoy these pictures of Ratanakiri, more will be added later. You can also go to https://www.dropbox.com/sh/wzib8aol4fsa6jm/arXvRL4i4v?m and acces the Banlung folder.

The squad

Our guide Bouny

Tribal youngster

Visiting a derelict school

Epic

Packing up

Little else needs to be said about the woods. A lot more can be said about loggers, threats, murders, bribes, drugs, rubber, camps, political oppression and a hydroelectic dam but I'm going to decide against putting it in this blog right now> The contents are dark and heavy and because most of it is still fresh in my mind, I can't manage digesting the information right now. Hence there is little point for me to write about it but this:

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

Again.