The Journey to Phnom Penh

The journey to Phnom Penh started at 6.45 am and was grueling in every sense of the word. In and of itself it is worth its own separate blog entry. In Phu Quoc I had met an Australian couple my mom's age who quickly became my adoptive parents for the week and with whom I made the journey from Phu Quoc to Cambodia. Before leaving Chau Doc for the Cambodian border we stopped off at an indigenous Cham village along the river. The people here are ethnically Malaysian and practice Islam. Physically, they look very different from traditional Vietnamese, having wider eyes and darker skin, they look more Indian than Vietnamese. The women (even young girls) cover their heads with beautiful lace scarves, the men wear traditional bright Muslim caps on the tops of their heads, and both men and women wear brightly patterned sarongs. It was a striking change from the other indigenous villages I had encountered who are mostly either ethnically Chinese or who have been in Vietnam for centuries. As seems the norm in Vietnam, everyone was very welcoming and full of friendly smiles for us foreigners.
We then pressed on for a three hour very slow boat to the Cambodian border. It was about a 45 kilometer journey and we were going only 15 km (approx. 9 mph!) per hour. It was simply boiling out there on the river with the sun beating down on us and the teasing wind blowing all the trees on the banks yet never making it to those of us in the boat. Finally we arrived at the Vietnamese border and were instructed to haul our heavy rucksacks up a completely vertical dirt hill while the locals simply watched us struggle. We had a hurried lunch, spending the last of our dong, and then made our way to a new Cambodian boat to repeat the process on the Cambodian side. I really can not capture in words the heat during that day. I don't think I have ever sweated that much in my life, literally from every pore. We were 15 in all on the boat and we were all stinky, sweaty, and worn out yet we were only half way through the journey. We were again 3 hours on a very slow and lopsided boat to Cambodia. When we arrived at the Cambodian border and had trudged up the mud hill, we noticed that we were the only group there getting our passports stamped and that there were no border patrol around. We soon realized that that was because they were all having a go at karaoke in the back and couldn't be bothered with us tourists! Soon after, however, we managed to coax them into stamping our visas and letting us on our way. About 15 minutes into the journey the guide asked me to move to the other side so I could even out the boat. However, not only was the other side bathed in scorching sunlight, but I was rather offended that he thought that I was heavy enough to balance out the boat! So about 5 minutes later, literally out of nowhere, a Vietnamese woman appeared and sat down on the other side to even it out. Now, this woman had not been with us for the entire trip and really there are not too many places one can hide on a boat, so I still haven't figured out the mysteries of Cambodian boats.
At about 4.30 pm we disembarked (again up a completely vertical muddy, dirty hill) in Neak Leung only to board a (thankfully air conditioned) bus for another 1.5 hours to the capital. I once thought that Laos had bad roads, but Cambodian roads are by far the worse. Throughout the entire hour and a half we never once met with a level stretch of road but rather bounced, banged, and jostled our way to Phnom Penh. Meanwhile there was the worst monsoonal storm happening outside which only caused the barely passable roads to become even less so and our going even slower. Passing us on all sides were local buses packed with people on the inside, packed with luggage on the roof, and with even more people stacked on top of the luggage all getting absolutely soaked in the pouring rain. Upon arrival in the capital we met with the most extraordinary tangle of traffic I have ever seen. There were people, motorbikes, carts, tractors, luxury cars, trucks, you name it, embroiled in a tangle of traffic which really wasn't even moving. Never mind the lack of traffic police or traffic lights, there weren't even any traffic signs or lane definitions. Instead people simply went where and whenever they pleased expecting everyone else to do the same and somehow everyone got where they needed to go without too much incident. We were finally dumped in the gritty backpacker section of the city and too tired to look for nicer accommodation, I dropped my rucksack at the first grotty place with a/c and promptly ran into some friends I had met in Phu Quoc with whom I spent the rest of the evening. I had a surprisingly good Khmer veggie curry and washed it down with my favorite: BeerLao. Now, if someone had told me the border crossing experience was so torturous I would have simply flown, which I know is somehow cheating, but a girl's gotta have her limits and I certainly have mine!
Today, I woke up early and with my adoptive parents went in search of nicer accommodation on the other side of town. We eventually found something more acceptable, but only after another grueling sweat soaked morning. I am thoroughly looking forward to finally getting the chance to explore the city properly today.

The island of Phu Quoc

I have just returned from a week spent on an enchanting island with sunshine filled days, great people, and scrumptious squid. After leaving Saigon, I boarded a plane headed for the island of Phu Quoc located in the Gulf of Thailand, to the west of the Vietnamese mainland. I left bright and early and so arrived with a full day ahead of me. After looking around, I found a perfect bungalow placed right on the beach with a hammock-filled balcony and a mosquito-netted bed overlooking the waves. I promptly found myself a beach chair and barely moved from there the entire day. Throughout that first day I was constantly being stalked by a group of well meaning massage ladies, "You want massage? You want manicure, pedicure, threading?". It was a veritable spa on the beach and with prices all under $4 it was hard to say no. I assented to getting a massage and having my legs threaded. For those of you unfamiliar with threading it is one of the more painful ways of having hair removed. Similar to waxing in the sense that it removes hair from the roots, the hair is removed by the use of string wrapped tightly around and then dragged across your hair to be pulled out. Not a pleasant sensation by any stretch of the imagination. At the appointed time, I was met on the beach by a gaggle of women, instructed to lay down on my stomach, and then before I knew it 4 women were in very close contact with my body: 2 were threading either leg, one was massaging my back, and the other my legs. Frankly, any more than one person doing anything to your body is too much so I halted all movement and said only 2 people were allowed: one threader and one masseuse. However, halfway through the threading of one leg I made her stop because it was too damn painful and I thought to myself, "Here I am on this beautiful beach enduring torture to remove some stupid leg hair when I would rather be enjoying my massage." so now I have a half threaded leg and a much nicer feeling body. The woman threading replied, "No ow-ow no beautiful, but ow-ow beautiful" and as much as this may be true I still didn't continue. For dinner I had freshly grilled whole snapper and fresh shrimp spring rolls while watching the sun go down on the beach.

The following day, after meeting several other like-minded travelers, I went on a boat trip to explore the islands and do some fishing and snorkeling. The water was way too cloudy to see much and I caught no fish (the last time I fished I was still sucking my thumb), but the company was great and the crew caught enough fish to cook up a huge meal and, really, what could be lovelier than sitting on a boat in the middle of the ocean eating and chatting with great people? We then docked at Bai Sao which is one of the nicest beaches I have ever seen. Set in a cove with green hills surrounding it, the water is crystal clear and the beach is filled with super-fine sparkling white sand. Very few tourists go there since it is hard to find and there is only one beach shack serving up good seafood so it provided a great spot to stop and have a swim and a few beers.

On Tuesday, after meeting an American (only the second one I've met here) named Kyle who had rented out a moto for the week, we decided to go visit some local natural wonders. We started with the waterfall which proved to be spectacular: set amid lush, dense, tropical forests through which one has to hike about 15 minutes to reach the waterfall which was perfect for swimming. The water formed a small crystal clear pool delightfully cool to our sweaty bodies. Unfortunately, upon our arrival we were met with a group of Vietnamese tourists with a megaphone drinking cans of beer and snacking on crabs. They left soon after our arrival, yet in their wake they left several cans of beer, plastic glasses, numerous crab shells, among other things. The mentality in Vietnam seems to be that someone else will do it and so this situation happens often. And yes, someone else did do it: Kyle and I. Having grown up good American citizens, (hah!) we cleaned up after them in order to preserve the serene beauty of the place and better enjoyed ourselves after having done so. We had planned on having a beach side BBQ with the others so we headed to the local market and bartered for 2 kilos of prawns, 2 kilos of squid, 2 cases of Tiger beer, and numerous veggies for about $5 a person (we were 6 people total). Feeling pretty good about this we met up with the others and through the great help of the lady at the hotel managed to have an excellent meal of prawn and squid skewers watching the sunset.

I had planned to leave on Wednesday, but soon decided to extend my time there as it was just so perfect. The next couple of days were spent on the back of Kyle's motorbike exploring the island from the many beaches to the protected jungle to completely washed out roads and less than safe bamboo bridges to lots of squid lunches and general friendliness of the locals.

On Friday, the day of my departure to the mainland via ferry boat, I woke up early to an ever darkening sky which soon turned into a monsoonal storm with 25 mph winds, lightening, thunder, and lots of rain. It was with trepidation that I headed for the port on a local bus with a driver who literally honked his horn for the entire 30 minute journey and completely filled with less than content locals. Happy to get off that bus I was relieved to see the sky had cleared for my 3 hour karaoke crazy ferry journey across the water. I spent the night in a vast port town and caught a very local bus to the Cambodian border. Tomorrow I will be headed via an 11 hour slow boat to Phnom Penh, a journey which I am sure will be filled with numerous mini adventures.

Some interesting facts and anecdotes on Vietnam:

1) Similar to the Chinese, the Vietnamese are only allowed 2 children per family

2) The Vietnamese will generally try to rip you off if they can, but there is no need to feel upset about this as they do it their own people as well.

3) On the island of Phu Quoc I saw a man driving a motorbike with 2 little kids smashed between him towing a baby walker behind him with a 10 month old baby inside. I have seen some crazy motorbike action here but that has got to top them all!

4) Local buses are guaranteed to be packed to the gills with more people than there are seats and enough stinky food for an army before they will depart from the station

5) If a car, bus, truck, or motorbike has a horn the Vietnamese will use it excessively until it breaks.

6) The predominate fashion here in Vietnam for women is that of matching pyjama sets. These are worn day or night in a variety of styles and colors. I have seen this fashion throughout Vietnam (even in the metropolis that is Saigon)and have yet to feel inclined to copy it.

5) Vietnam is a lovely place to visit and I highly recommend it to anyone who is interested in visiting!

Mui Ne and Saigon

Finally back to blogging! So sorry about that long pause between blogs but I found myself, yet again, spending more time than planned on a small tropical island sans Internet. But, more about that later. First, I have an engaging installment on the South China Sea and Saigon.

My last full day on the back of the moto was Sunday May 13th driving from the mountain city of DaLat to the seaside coast of Mui Ne. The drive yet again was spectacular! Mountains, mountains, and more mountains opening up onto a bright golden desert further leading to crystal blue water. Naturally, it rained the entire day, but I was undaunted as it allowed for one of the more ghostly rides I have ever taken. We passed perhaps no more than a handful of other drivers for the entire day and at one point we were so high in the mountains and the clouds were so low and heavy with rain that we were actually driving through the clouds! Sure, I've flown through clouds before but to feel them on your face and pass your hand through them while speeding along was quite magical. I, who always has something to say, was rendered speechless by the experience (for a few moments anyway!). We then coasted down the mountains into the desert (yes, Vietnam has a desert) and stopped at a Champa village located at the bottom of the mountain. There was no electricity in the village and no one even spoke Vietnamese, but they were most charming people and never asked for anything except for to touch my arms. In many parts of the world, this poverty would lead straight to begging, but I have found that in these traditional villages one never encounters this aspect of poverty, but instead finds the ability these people have to appreciate what they have and to approach strangers only with offers of tea and a smile. We then proceeded along the coastal road with the South China Sea sparkling on our left, ochre colored sand dunes to our right, and with the green mountains behind us to end our journey at Mui Ne. It poured buckets for the first two days there which was fine by me as I had just picked up some light reading, "Anna Karenina" by Tolstoy, and was looking forward to resting my bum while reading on my balcony. I stayed an extra two days to enjoy the sunshine, but didn't swim as the water was unfortunately quite dirty holding everything from jellyfish to lost flip flops to fishnets etc. My bungalow was wonderfully clean though not bug free as I had to get my manly neighbour to extract a few palm-sized winged creatures from my room. I also saw no fewer than 6 rats scurrying along, one which was promptly killed by some dogs right in front of me while dining. I did manage to find a lovely local joint serving fresh (raw) squid salad served with lots of green chilies and limes which I ate twice a day for four days. I then booked a tourist bus ticket to Saigon for Thursday May 17th, a mere 5 hours on proper seats from Mui Ne.

I arrived in Saigon at dusk and was instantly confronted by the modernity and spaciousness of the city, the excessive motorbike traffic, and overall intensity of the city. I hadn't been in a proper city since Bangkok 6 weeks earlier and so Saigon proved a welcome refreshment to my senses. I found a great room right in the center of the backpacker zone chock full of little cafes, restaurants, and bars that actually stayed open past 10pm. I went straight out and had a big bowl of seafood fried rice and continued sampling the plethora of Vietnamese beers into the wee hours of the night watching the traffic from my vantage point at a street side cafe. Unlike other places I have to in Vietnam, Saigon is filled with street vendors that roam the city selling any and everything one could possibly want. My favorites were the women who walked around with a tower of copied books sporting only the latest English language titles and selling for under $2. Copyright laws have yet to make it to this part of the world which makes photocopying of entire books a very lucrative business. Also, one notices the amount of prostitution there is Vietnam. It seemed that everywhere I saw beautiful, young girls with sweaty, fat, old Western men. One man I met, an American seated next to me at a bar, actually told me that he had just arrived that morning from Philly and that this was his "new girlfriend". Why he thought that I would admire this act is beyond me so I politely excused myself from the conversation while I was mentally cursing him. Another fact of life in Saigon is the motorbike traffic which is truly astonishing. Kudos go out to all those who manage to navigate their way through that mess. No one wears a helmet, even though there are over 13,000 traffic related accidents a year (13 per day) and people drive like absolute maniacs! Of course I didn't risk my precious little head and took car taxis instead. The persistent honking and beep-beeping of the motos got a little irksome after awhile, but what can ya' do? The only way to cross the street in Saigon is to just go right out and cross, pretending that there are not in all actuality no less than 500 scooters aimed directly at you barely managing to zip past you without a nipping you. At one intersection it took me more than 5 minutes before I managed to get across due to the throng of bikes!

I woke up the following day feeling a bit queasy and so didn't really make it out till noon where I nursed a Vietnamese iced tea and politely turned away street vendors until I felt ready for the War Remnants Museum which commemorates the Vietnamese War (or the American War as it is referred to here). It is a pretty well organized affair filled mostly with extremely graphic photos of the vestiges of the American-Vietnam War including the mass murder and torture of entire villages, the devastating effects of napalm and agent orange (which still affects a large number of newborns today), and the overall physical and mental trauma war offers. I, as an American, was quite humbled to see the horrendous ways in which we participated in this war and the amount of international sovereignty there was for the Vietnamese. However awfully we treated the Vietnamese during the war I have yet to find negativity amongst them when I say that I am American. Rather than antagonistic behavior I am always greeted with a smile and with curiosity and awe that I traveled so far to see their country. Perhaps because of this fear, I have met only 2 other Americans traveling in Vietnam in the entire 25 days of my time here, yet have met many Australians and Western Europeans traveling throughout Indochina. After the museum I walked around a lovely green park filled with exercising locals where I met a 75 year old Vietnamese gentleman who claimed to have been in the Vietnam War fighting with the Americans and was jailed for several years when the North won power. He then had me take multiple photos of him so I could prove that people like him still existed. Yet another lovely cultural encounter one only seems to get when traveling alone. I filled up the rest of my afternoon walking around and eating random street food. I was heading out at 4.30 the next morning to catch a flight to the island of Phu Quoc for a few days and so didn't get too much nighttime action in. Even though I was only in Saigon for such a short time I feel that I was able to get a good sense of the city and its inhabitants and left with a very positive feeling overall. I would like to go back at some time for a longer stay, but this will have to be saved for another journey.

PS: I posted new photos on Picasa.

Easyridin'

Riding the roadways of Vietnam on the back of a motorcycle is the way to travel this part of the world. Today is the end of my fifth full day following the Ho Chi Minh Trail south from Hoi An to Mui Ne Beach and it has been a fascinating journey. Apart from a very sore bum, riding on the back of a moto is exhilarating and nerve-racking all in one. The "Easyriders" is the name given to a rather hodgepodge group of men who take tourists around Vietnam by motorbike. Usually it is just the traveler and the driver, sometimes in groups of two. These guys know the land and sights of every part of Vietnam and are able to take travelers very far away from the "tourist path", showing them the "real" Vietnam filled with poverty, mountain villages, motorbikes piled high with livestock, curvy mountain roads, Communist billboards, dirt-pathed villages, indigenous tribes, fresh, spicy food, and, above all, the smiling, friendly people of the Central Highlands. I met Tien, my driver, along the riverfront in Hoi An and it didn't take much convincing to make me say yes to a 6 day tour of the Central Highlands ending at the beach.

We left Hoi An early on Tuesday morning heading for the ancient Champa ruins of May Son. This is an incredibly well-preserved ancient city deep in the jungle of the Central Highlands. Fortunately, when I visited I saw few other tourists and virtually had the place to myself. This, however, turned out to be a bit creepy as I trekked along jungle paths with no civilization in sight and the largest red-winged creature I have ever seen jumped out right in front of me and then promptly disappeared back into the foliage. I assume it was a bird, but who knows. The only other disturbance was the plethora of butterflies flying across the path. They ranged from the size of my pinkie finger to larger than my hand in colors of turquoise, tangerine, crimson, buttercup, lemon yellow, celery green, browns, and blacks. How I wanted to catch the moment on camera, but one can never seem to get a good pose from a butterfly! After spending two hours in the jungle I emerged to continue the drive stopping at indigenous villages along the way. There are 52 indigenous tribes in Vietnam ranging from the north to the south, though the population of all combined is still quite small. We visited villages that rarely see foreign travelers. Villages filled with gentle people who simply stared at me, touching my curly hair and light brown skin, commenting on everything about me and with children laughing and smiling, posing for the camera, screaming when shown the outcome on the screen.

The next day we drove on the Ho Chi Minh Trail through the truly mystical mountains of the Central Highlands. We barely saw another soul for over 2 hours as we weaved our way higher and higher with each bend in the road revealing even greater beauty than the one before. There were streams and waterfalls a plenty against the backdrop of the lusciously green mountains wrapped in fog and mists so the peaks appeared to be floating in mid air. Absolutely breathtaking! We spent the night in a city with no other foreigners and dined on wonderful crab soup and shrimp pancakes sitting on tiny plastic stools on the street. Throughout these days on the motorcycle I have been continually astonished by the fact that if one took away all the motorbikes and electrical wires, the villages would appear much as they did hundreds of years ago. The highways are still covered in rice, corn, peppers, tobacco, or whatever the local produce is waiting to dry in the sun. The local livestock (pigs, chickens, ducks, cows, water buffaloes, dogs. etc) pay no attention to the passing traffic, content to sleep in the middle of the road, grunting at the whizzing motorbikes. Interestingly enough, I have yet to see one horse in Vietnam, possibly due to the fact that the preferred beast of burden is the water buffalo. One sees water buffaloes plowing the rice fields, children driving overgrown tractors, and women working the fields with babies on their backs. These were some truly humbling scenes for a Westerner like myself who rarely glimpses this style of life.

Since I started my motorcycle journey I have eaten nothing but local food. It has been wonderful tasting all the local delicacies, with each village or city specializing in something different. I have become particularly adept at shoving, gulping, slurping food into my mouth via the use of chopsticks in the Vietnamese way. A way in which, though not pretty to watch, is extremely functional. I have eaten chicken with yellow rice, crab soup, noodles with fresh veggies and chunks of chilies, chicken noodle soup (let me tell 'ya that Cambells ain't got nothin' on the Vietnamese version), steamed rice with white cabbage and pickled garlic, sweet corn cakes, freshly squeezed sugar cane juice, and since I know that all of you are now drooling I will stop the list.

We continued like this everyday until we reached Da Lat, a city in the mountains, where I am now writing. Today, however, the heavens opened up and it has been raining cats and dogs since morning. Riding a motorbike in the rain is no picnic, especially on curvy mountain roads. One would think it logical to slow down while riding in the rain, but naturally the Vietnamese go ever faster in order to race out of the rain. The buses and trucks whizz past honking their horns and splashing you with muddy water while you are crouched low in the seat covered in leaky rain gear unable to see through your foggy helmet visor. But, we made it safe and sound and it really is all part of the experience. Sadly, tomorrow is my last day on the bike as we are only a day's ride away from the beach where I will be relaxing my bum on the sand for a couple of days, providing that it doesn't rain that is!

Hue, Vietnam

Hue is simply lovely. It couldn't have been a more perfect place to transition from the slow pace of Laos to fast-paced Vietnam. Hue is a moderately sized city sliced down the middle by the Perfume River and extremely well-preserved architecturally. It is large enough to support bands of taxis and rickshaw (cyclos as they're known here) drivers, but small enough to walk most places under 30 minutes. I am staying on a backpacker's side street across the river from the Imperial City filled with little cafes, street side food vendors, and guesthouses. Across the street is a cafe called, "Cafe on Thu Wheels", which specializes in motorbike tours of the surrounding countryside. One thing Hue is known for is its plethora of Royal Tombs, most built between the 18th and the 20th centuries. I signed up for a solo tour and soon found myself on the back of a moto being the only one wearing a helmet in all of Vietnam! My driver was a lovely man named Dat who spoke English very well and was quite knowledgeable about the sites which we visited. He had a knack for showing up to each site just as a tour bus of tourists was leaving and urging me to leave just as another one was pulling up. We visited the Tu Hieu Pagoda during prayer time of the monks. It was a wonderful spectacle to witness with the chanting monks, the burning incense, and the deep bass of the gong. I managed to capture their voices on my sound recorder, which, when I listen to it now gives me goosebumps! We then proceeded to visit 2 royal tombs, the tombs of Emperor Minh Mang and Emperor Tu Duc. Both were rather similar in layout: spaced around a lake with wooded countryside surrounding them. They were quite serene and one could see the heavy influence the Chinese had on them architecturally. While going from place to place we stuck to the back roads which gave me an opportunity to see village life first hand. The houses were all painted in shades of pastel yellows, oranges, pinks, and greens, water buffalo were everywhere, rice fields were verdant shades of green, local markets were bustling, and everyone was armed with a smile. Quite a change when one considers these villages were a mere 6 kilometers outside the bustling city of Hue.

Today was a perfect day for setting out of foot: overcast and cool. I headed for the walled Imperial City across the river going slowly and shooting photos of daily life. The Imperial City was very similar architecturally to Beijing's Forbidden City. I will say that the Forbidden City far outshines that of Hue's Imperial City and so I was not much moved by the sites here. I far more enjoyed my time exploring the city on foot, smiling at locals, shopping the markets, and eating at the restaurant "Lac Thein" run by deaf mutes for over 30 years. The food was excellent, I ordered local roll-'em-yourself veggie spring rolls served with a fish enhanced peanut sauce, basil, green figs, cucumbers, and (finally!) extremely spicy chili sauce. After ordering a beer, the owner proceeded to hand me my very own inscribed wooden bottle opener and instructed me to go back to my home country, open a bottle a beer, and send him a photo, something which I most definitely plan to do.

I will be leaving Hue tomorrow morning on a bus headed 3 hours south for Hoi An, a city even smaller and supposedly even nicer than Hue. I imagine things will just keep getting better here in Vietnam!

Southern Laos

Southern Laos was dreamlike. It was similar to every "south" of many other countries that I have visited: the people were friendly and full of smiles, the food was rich and good, time went past slowly, there was really no need to get anywhere or do anything in particular, and the sun was always shining. I started off by taking a truly VIP night bus from Vientiane to Pakse (roughly 10 hours). We arrived in Pakse at 6am where I teamed up with two other travelers, a Pole and a Dane respectively, and we hired a local boat to take us 2 hours down the Mekong to the village of Champasak in order to visit the ancient Khmer ruins of Wat Phou. At that early hour in the morning the river was extremely busy with paddle canoes full of fisherman, locals towing piles of fruit and veggies across the river, children taking their morning baths, and ferries going from north to south and south to north. The morning light is such a beautiful time to catch all of these common moments of everyday life. We were dropped off at a lovely riverside guesthouse where we were all lucky enough to find rooms overlooking the Mekong and then proceeded to Wat Phou at the height of the afternoon heat. We went by tuk-tuk through a sea of schoolchildren cycling home from school shouting hellos and waving to us farangs.

Wat Phou is lusciously set against a backdrop of vibrant green mountains within sensuously scented frangipani trees and drooping jungle plants and flowers. From the base of the site one could not make out the hidden treasures that the jungle withheld which was quite tantalizing as we were the only visitors there and so were able to feel completely consumed by the place. Wat Phou holds many traits similar to Khmer temple architecture, of which many of you may be familiar with through Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Wat Phou is said to be the best Khmer temple outside of the Angkor complex. I, for one, can not say as I have yet to visit Cambodia, but I am sure that it merits this praise. After a slow stroll through the complex we returned for some BeerLao and conversation at the riverside to watch the sunset and the monsoon winds and rain settle in for the evening.

Early the next morning, I proceeded further south to reach the island of Don Det within the area known as Si Phan Don or 4,000 Islands. I was ferried along the river on a rather dubious wooden raft to catch a sangthaew, a converted truck meant to carry any number of travelers, food items, motorbikes, animals, etc. The one I alighted proved to be not terribly crowded, holding only about 15 people, a motorbike, some chickens, and several bags of produce. The ride was only 3 hours and was made even more bearable by the fact that it stopped at every village, each offering their own unique food item. I dined on gluey kumquatesque citrus fruits, grilled bananas on a stick, but stopped at the offer of gigantic fresh grasshoppers and frogs on a stick. Maybe next time.

I found a riverside bungalow complete with balcony for $2 a night. Yes, the bathroom was across the road but what can ya' do? I had planned to only spend a couple of days on Don Det, but ended up for one week! Really, one can quickly get used to island time: waking up to watch the sunrise, taking an early morning dip in the Mekong, eating a slow breakfast with a blond Lao coffee, reading the afternoon away on the hammock, swimming some more, and ending the night with a few BeerLao in the candlelight. It really just sucked me in. This island had electricity only 3 hours a day (from 6.30pm-9.30 pm), fishing was their main source of income, tourists were treated as welcome visitors rather than money-making beings, the cleanest, brightest bit of the Mekong flowed on all sides, one could see Cambodia from the southern tip, and the silence permeated everything so one could hear every little sound from every gecko and bird on the island. Paradise truly!


This paradise was interrupted only once during these 7 days. My new friend Tomasz, fortunately or unfortunately, talked me into taking a bike ride across the island to visit a waterfall. Now, since I am a perfectly rational being, I considered that facts that the island had virtually no motorbike traffic, absolutely no cars, and only one dirt path around it and so I decided that this would be a perfect reintroduction to bike-riding for me. Boy was I wrong! I had forgotten that the reason I don't cycle in the first place is that I am terrible at steering and my sense of balance isn't what it used to be 15 years ago. We rented a blue bike for Tomasz and a pink bike for me. Since I am sch a girlie-girl I figured that pink would give me super-powers that I did not possess at the time. The ride in and of itself was quite smooth and easygoing, expect for when the local children zoomed past me and I had to maneuver around parked water buffalo and chickens. I almost made it to the waterfall but chickened out at the old railway bridge which was pockmarked with rocks over which I envisioned myself tumbling into the Mekong below! I did mange to take a photo of the bike though!

After my Vietnamese visa had already been in effect for 2 days, I decided that it was time to pull myself away from Don Det and head north to Hue' Vietnam. Let me tell you, the going was tough in all manners of the word! The journey took me no less than 36 hours, though technically the distance was less than half that. I was shuffled from boat to tuk-tuk to bus to rickshaw at a variety of points on my journey. The minute I arrived in Pakse I was the only foreigner I saw until I arrived at my hotel in Hue. I understood no one and could only hope that I was on the correct night bus headed for the Vietnamese border. Arriving at the border at 3 am is not necessarily a pleasant experience. We had to park the bus and wait until 7 am to pass, but since I was foreign they took my passport with no explanation and did not return it to me until I was already in Vietnam. A quite unsettling feeling at 4 in the morning when one thinks she has lost her passport on the Lao-Vietnam border. But, in the end, my passport was handed back, stamped and approved! It then took us about 6 hours to make a 3 hour journey as the bus kept stopping for no apparent reason every 20 minutes or so. I was so ready to reach Hue that I jumped into the first decent looking hotel and grabbed a room. Luckily, it was clean, bright, and boasted CNN so I could catch up on 10 days of international news.

I will post a new blog emphasizing the variety of differences between Laos and Vietnam shortly. Happy Reading and please look at my new photos!