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.
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.
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