Message Stick

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.