Boarding the ‘King of Bus’ in Luang Prabang we should have known it would be anything but. The six hour journey escalated into a ten hour epic after a flat tire and a series of radiator related breakdowns. Fortunately every time the engine overheated there was a good supply of water drenched over it to cool it back down. Unfortunately all of our rucksacks got equally soaked in the process. The first hotel room was quickly turned into a Chinese laundry with the entire contents of our bags hung out to dry on makeshift washing lines.
The main order of business in Vang Vieng is getting wasted on Beer Lao and Lao Lao cocktails whilst floating 4km down the Nam Song river in a tractor’s inner tube. The first kilometer or so is lined with bars that throw tow ropes out to passing tubers. Each bar has its own gimmick; rope swings, zip lines or slides. Once on land and out of the tube the steady stream of free shots and cheap beers make the once absurd looking ‘rides’ seem extremely appealing. With our dutch courage we gave nearly all of them a go, smashing back into the river and scrambling back out to try again. That was until Helen bruised her ribs and I broke my arse. The camera was left safely back in our room so take a look at this for a flavour. Along with Caz and Asa the evening was spent back in the town continuing the days drinking with buckets of lethal cocktails until we all passed out on the floor or in nearby hammocks. The next day was spent managing a punishing hangover and our aching bodies.
After we’d our regained our ability to leave the hotel room we continued our journey south through Laos to the capital Vientiane. With only a night there we weren’t expecting much, but after being turned away Mary and Joseph style from nearly every guest house in town we soon discovered we’d arrived for the culmination of the That Luang full moon festival. Taking place in and around the Pha That Luang temple it seemed like a music festival for Buddhist monks, with stages, stalls and thousands of people milling around. With a motorcycle trip on the horizon we thought it would be wise to make an offering and ask for a blessing from the monks to keep us safe. Armed with incense and flowers we joined the throngs and said our piece, later wishing we’d remembered to include a host of fully-functioning buses for our future travels.
Leaving the sheltered world of Siem Reap behind we flew to Luang Prabang, nestled in the Northern Laos hills. The flight in took us right over the Mekong river and the views of the surrounding lush jungle were stunning. The town is a sleepy provincial capital, full of French colonial buildings and dotted with orange robed Buddhist monks from the many local monasteries. We were shocked not to be mobbed by any tuk tuk drivers upon our arrival at the airport and actually had to ask for directions to the taxi stand. This was our first taste of the laid back national culture and was a breath of fresh air after the frenzy of salesmen we encountered it Cambodia and Vietnam. Eager to see some of the country before we succumbed to this chilled lifestyle we signed up for a two day hike and kayak tour. It took around 30 minutes of trekking through the sweltering jungle to wish we’d taken the easier option straight away. However, despite being drenched with sweat and sharing our home stay bed with a variety of giant spiders, visiting the remote village tribes was a great experience and seeing the hardships of their daily lives really put our own cushy routines into perspective. Thankfully our guide spared us the barbecued rat supper.
The following day we kayaked to a beautiful set of cascading waterfalls for a welcome opportunity to wash off all the salt we’d accumulated during the trek. A three hour peaceful paddle in the kayaks took us back to the outskirts of Luang Prabang and that’s when we hit the rapids. The guides gave us some brief tuition but didn’t ease our fears with their now very serious attitudes. Paddling furiously in an attempt to keep the kayak upright we blasted through the waves and even started to enjoy ourselves after we’d survived the first few terrifying sets.
From Phnom Penh we took a bus up to Siem Reap and managed to score ‘business class’ seats so the six hour journey flew by. Famous for the Angkor Wat complex of temples, Siem Reap is major tourist destination and seems a world apart from Phnom Penh in the South. Along with thousands of extra tourists this meant it was easy street for a few days with a pattern of temples in the morning then lounging by the pool until happy hour started on Bar Street for 50 cent beers. We stayed at the ‘Golden Banana’, perhaps the gayest hotel in S.E Asia and certainly one of the nicer places we’ve stayed on our trip. Perhaps this should be a new criteria when trying to decide upon a guest house?
The temples were amazing and by getting up super early we managed to get them to ourselves for a few hours until the hordes of tour groups arrived. Tomb Raider was filmed on location at Ta Promh, a temple being slowly swallowed by the surrounding jungle, and it feels like the land time forgot. Whistling the theme to tune to Indiana Jones and armed with our trusty torch we scoured the walls for a hidden switch to the secret treasure chamber. Most of the child shop keepers are trying to sell dodgy temple replicas and t-shirts but would do so much better if they offered whips and Fedora hats.
For an interlude to our adventuring and to escape the punishing heat for a day we signed up for a cookery course to learn some of the secrets of the delicious Cambodian food. After a trip to the market for ingredients we got down to business and created a small feast then gorged ourselves till the noise on Bar Street signalled it was time for happy hour.
Leaving Vietnam by boat we arrived in Phnom Penh, Cambodia’s capital. After a day of settling in and getting acquainted with the very friendly locals and delicious food we arranged a trip around the less savoury parts of the city to see the relics of the Khmer Rouge regime.
Located in a former high school the S21 interrogation camp is where perceived enemies of the Khmer Rouge were imprisoned and tortured in order to obtain confessions of treason and lists of accomplices. Those named would soon be arrested and suffer the same fate. Once the necessary confessions and denouncing of others had finished the prisoners were taken by the truck load to the killing fields for the final stage of Pol Pots political cleansing. To save money and equipment the executions were very brutal and a giant column of smashed skulls was a gruesome testament.
Back in the city we watched men in long boats race down the river in preparation for the annual water festival from the Foreign Correspondent’s Club bar. Since it was the King’s birthday while we were in town we paid the palace a visit to help give him the bumps. Unfortunately it seemed that all of the cake had been eaten by the time we arrived and there wasn’t a balloon in sight so instead we contended ourselves with a look at his solid gold, diamond encrusted Buddha.
We flew over to Phu Quoc island for a few days relaxing on the beach. We later learnt it’s pronounced ‘Foo Kwo’ but that was too late to save us from the embarrassment of asking for tickets to ‘Poo Cock’ island in the Vietnam Airlines office. The weather in Vietnam had been decidedly shady to this point with monsoon downpours almost every other day, not exactly beach weather. As we touched down in Phu Quoc however the sun was blazing so we hired a motorbike to scout around the hotels. Two people, two rucksacks and two backpacks crammed onto a single moped was almost up to locals standard, though we’d need a few children and chickens on board to really make the grade. The next three days were spent watching films when it rained and riding motorbikes around the island looking for beaches when it was dry. After a boat ride back to mainland Vietnam we prepared to cross into Cambodia via the Mekong delta.
En-route to Cambodia we stopped off for a fantastic tour of Can Tho’s floating markets and backwaters of the Mekong. Starting at 5:30 AM our boatwoman kept us entertained and awake until we hit the mass of the floating markets down river. After picking up our Halloween pumpkin we took a lazy cruise through the deserted backwaters. The atmosphere was amazing as we winded through the narrow, shady waterways to the sound of crickets chirping. We stopped at a wooden monkey bridge and we both had a go at crossing it. After our guide watched me nearly destroy the bridge as I crossed she quickly urged Helen not to attempt it. I think we must be a bit heavier than the locals.
After a beweildering series of attempts to overcharge us we finally boarded a fast boat to Phnom Penh, Cambodia, excited to be moving onto a new country.
We arrived in Saigon bleary eyed at 5:30 AM after our last train journey for a while. A ride on a motorbike taxi to the hotel district soon woke us up however and we realised that Saigon (no one here calls it Ho Chi Minh City) had even crazier traffic than Hanoi. After a quick breakfast it became apparent Mark was as equally popular in Vietnam as China when the swooning waitress declared she wanted to marry someone just like him. After Mark’s head had reduced sufficiently in size to leave the restaurant we took a walk across the city the War Remnants museum. By the time we arrived we were drowned in sweat from the heat and humidity and to our horror it was only 9:30! The museum had some incredible photographs from war journalists from both sides and some truly awful depictions of Napalm and Agent Orange victims.
We spent the evening walking around streets lined with colonial architecture and tried a classic Vietnamese iced coffee. Brewed to a super-strength and sickly sweet, Mark has become addicted to them.
A tour out to Cu Chi was a fascinating insight into the Viet Cong’s network of tunnels in which they lived and fought a guerrilla war against the South Vietnamese and US armies on the doorstep of Saigon. Our guide was a Southern army veteran who told some amazing stories and demonstrated how the VC recycled American bombs, vehicles and rubbish to make weapons and traps to use against them. Though extremely heavy on pro-Communist propaganda it was nevertheless interesting to see an alternative to Hollywood’s portrayal of events. The rain continued to pour throughout our visit and the thunder combined with AK47 rounds from the nearby gun range created a chilling atmosphere as we waded through puddles between the sights. We finished the tour with the chance to be real life tunnel rats and crawl through a 100m passage ourselves. Dimly lit and descending along the way it could be very claustrophobic at times. The last 30m really set the adrenalin pumping as the tunnel became tighter and pitch black. We shuddered afterwards at how terrifying it must have been to raid these tunnels as an American soldier.
From Hanoi we took a hard sleeper train to Da Nang with a carriage full of locals and an equal number of cockroaches. We’d obviously been spoilt by the excellent Chinese trains but once the earplugs in we soon slept our way through the countryside. Arriving in Da Nang to a torrential downpour we made our way to Hoi An, a historic riverside town. It would have been better described however as ‘The Venice of Asia’ as the river had burst its banks and flooded several blocks cutting off many guesthouses and restaurants. After a few Tsunami flashbacks we checked into a nice multi-storey hotel, far, far from the waterfront. Unfortunately most the sights were out of bounds due to the flooding so we quickly headed to Nha Trang for some much needed beach time. We had hoped to take a day trip to surf Charlie’s point but found we were around month too early for suitable waves so contended ourselves with lazing by the pool and reading our extensive library of photocopied books.
We were sad to leave China behind as we crossed overland into Vietnam, but were really excited to experience a new country. The bus journey took us straight to the heart of hectic Hanoi with it’s millions of motorbikes and no apparent road rules. We had a night of culture at the water puppet theatre which was a very interesting show set to live traditional music, the only downside was that the seating was designed for the Vietnamese style audience so we sat for the duration in agony with our knees around our ears.
Vietnamese food is delicious our favorites being pho (beef noodle soup) and roll your own spring rolls. After 5 weeks however of nothing but sweet bread in China we were even more taken with Vietnamese baguettes; a legacy from their French colonial past.
A tour out to Halong Bay on a Junk sailing boat was a real highlight. We cruised past amazing Karst islands, explored caves, kayaked and swam in the ocean. The boat, food and company were all outstanding and we can now see why the parents are always off cruising the world.
