Day 231 - East Meets West

The three days getting to Chiang Mai pretty much wiped us out. For our first day in Thailand's 'cultural capital', we did...NOTHING. Well, not much anyway.

We began by waking up late. I updated the blog and surfed Craigslist for apartments. Cz watched movies for what was left of the morning. At 1, we went across town to the train station to book our tickets back to Bangkok. Tickets in hand, we returned to our neighborhood for an oh-so-greasy, oh-so-Western, and oh-so-good burger lunch.

The burger joint is called Mike's and looks like a classic American diner. It's motto reads 'converting vegetarians since 1979'. I can see why. I do plan to go back to my partial veggie ways when I return home, but for now, that was a damn fine burger.

It was nearly 4 by the time we returned to the hostel, where we resumed doing...nothing. The common room is graced with several comfy chairs and floor cushions, a large TV, and American series on DVD. It is an enormous time suck, and our time was effectively sucked.

We had planned on going on a night tour of Chiang Mai with a group of people from the hostel, but unfortunately right about dusk, it began pouring rain. Most unfortunate, especially considering that part of the night tour was to celebrate Spicy Thai (the hostel) being voted #2 hostel in all of Asia. Undaunted, the hostel owner moved the party home, with bucket drinks, snacks and music.

We might not have seen much of Chiang Mai, but we certainly saw a lot of what makes Spicy Thai worth its new crown.

Day 230 - Back to Thailand

Houay Xai sits on the Laos side of the Mekong. Chiang Khong occupies on the Thai side. At one point, there were plans to build a bridge to connect the two, but the economic crash of 1997 put the skids on those plans, and they have yet to be resumed. As of today, small longtail boats ferry people and goods back and forth across the border for a small fee.

Once on the Thai side, one walks through the imposing welcome gate to the far less imposing customs house where a bored official stamps passports after a cursory glance. There is none of the 'paying for the stamp' and visa-questioning malarky that we have encountered at half the other wayside posts. Thailand is probably the most developed of the mainland SE asian countries (Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam), and the ease of entry seems proof of this.

Within a few minutes, we have purchased our bus ticket for Chiang Mai, paid a visit to the 7-11 (they are everywhere in Thailand), and even caught up on e-mails. It is sort of nice being back where nearly everything is easy and familiar. Along with being the most developed, Thailand is easily the most Western of the SE Asian nations. A strange phenominon considering that it was the only one never a Western colony.

A long bus ride later, we finally arrive in Chiang Mai. No one seems to know where our guesthosue is, so we go online to get the address and some rudimentary direction. We hail a tuk-tuk driver who swears up an down that he knows out guesthouse. He does not. We circle the city for ages while he asks all his fellow drivers how to get there. FINALLY we find it tucked away on a quiet residential street.

We are met by our friend J, who we met in Bangkok, and are soon happily chatting away with the other guests and watching American TV series on pirated DVD's. Most of the guests here planned to stay for a few days, and have ended up staying here two weeks or more. It is a friendly, homey place, and easy to see the appeal. I'm sort of sad to have the hard departure date because of the flight, but glad to be leaving on a high note.

Day 229 - Same Same...

...But different. That's what all the vendors say when you try to compare their goods with the stall next door. The same could be applied to our second day on the river.

The morning seemd to indicate another day of cold and rain, but a few hours in, the clouds broke, and blue rain-washed skys shone down. The weather was perfect - like October on the East coast - warm sun, cool breeze, and clear air all around.

According to Cz, this was perfect napping weather.

Since the paving of many roads in Laos, river travel has in many places been relegated to tourist traffic. Read: Too expensive for us. Hence, we have had to scrap the idea of going by water from Cambodia through Laos, and have had to rely primarily on the far less romantic, but much cheaper buses. However, there is no direct road from Luang Prabang to the border. Or rather, the road exists, but it is unpaved and tortuously windy, so many people, locals included, still use the river routes. Our boat was probably half locals, and half foreigners. As we motored, we passed other boats laden with cargo, people, even one with a herd of patient buffalo on board.

All along the banks, life continued as I imagine it has for centuries. Little boys splashed and fished. Men hauled fishing nets and set traps, and ladies washed children and clothes in equal measure. Above the water line, whole families worked together to knock the seeds out of grasses and lay them out to dry for the new year's thatch.

As we neared Huay Xai, the border town where we would be spending the night, the sun graced us with a final glorious setting on the Mekong. It was a fine farewell to Laos.

Day 228 - Monks and the Mekong

We woke up early this morning to join our neighbor lady in giving alms to the monks. I know they are supposed to give up worldly desires, but surely they must get bored with oranges and sticky rice. In fact, this morning, one novice did close the lid of his begging bowl to prevent the orange from going in. I think I should have bought those strawberry lollies I saw at one of the convenience stores!

After the last of the monks passed by, we collected our bags, and set off for the ferry dock to begin day one of our 2-day foray up the Mekong to the Thai border. The weather was absolutly wretched - grey and rainy and cold. We were very happy to not only be bundled up in our fleeces, but also to burrow under our sleeping bag for most of the journey.

The rain did have the bonus of cloaking the surounding mountains with misty clouds, giving them a bit of atmospheric drama which they had been lacking. As stated before, after the Himalayas, mountains really have to work hard to impress us.

Even the few days of rain upriver, and now on-river caused the river to surge along in a chocolate-coloured sheet. Every now and then a whirlpool or eddy would catch the boat and give it a litttle shake, just to remind us that this is the Mighty Mekong, not some little backwater tributary.

We arrived in Pak Beng, about halfway between Luang Prabang and the Thai Border at dusk. The way up from the ferry dock involved scrambling up a steep rocky-muddy slope in the half dark. Cz was not pleased. We arrived at our guesthouse which had mercifully hot showers and clean bathrooms. After taking advantage of the oh-so-civilised facilties, we wadered back into town (which seemed a much shorter walk going downhill and pack-free) for some well-deserved curry and rice.

Tomorrow we look forward to more of the same. The rain was pretty, but I hope for, if not sun, at least warm.

Day 227 - Novice Monks...

...Are still teenage boys.

Today we decided to do a walking tour of Luang Prabang. Our first stop was the Wat right behind our guesthouse (the one whose monks we give oranges to each morning). While it did have some lovely old buildings, the best part were the novice monks living there. They lolled about studying or chatting, or goofing around in most un monk-like ways. One little monk was eating some fruit and hurled the peel at his friend. The other little monk promtly put him in a headlock and started pummling his back. Soundly proving that little monks are still teenage boys.


After all that excitement we thought it best to visit the more staid entertainment of Luang Prabang's oldest Wat, Wat Wisunalat. The Wat was nice, but no more exciting than others we've seen, but the stupa on its grounds is commonly known as 'The Watermelon Stupa'. I suspect there may have been some opium involved in that naming - though is quite plump and round like a fat watermelon. Personally I think it looks more like a bosom, but could probably get in trouble for saying so.

We continued on our walk along the smaller river flanking the city. Sounds of laughter coming from the water made us pause. A group of monks in their saffron robes were taking turns with a group of local boys in floating (and dunking each other, and tossing each other off of) a tire inner tube. I've heard that the little monks also like to practice Kung-fu (also forbidden), but that the older monks pretend not to know about it.

We tried to go to the Royal Palace museum, but it was closed. The Wat on the grounds (yes, more Wat) was open, and as gilded as one would expect a royal Wat to be.

Across the street we climbed Pu Si Hill where Wat Chomsi which offers commanding views over the city and surrounding countryside. One building was being re-painted by team of novice monks. As expected from a teenage boy paint team, they were getting nearly as much paint on each other and their robes as on the walls of the building.

Cultural duty done, we got some tasty snacks from the local street vendors, bought oranges for tomorow's alms, and picked up a few more presents from the night market.

Day 226 - Cooking School

Today was far more satisfying. We handed out oranges with the lovely old lady from next door. Armed with our plate of fruit, it was easy to send the hawkers away, and the monks seemed pleased with the tiny sweet oranges.

We returned to our guesthouse for a blissfully hot shower. Some thumping noises from the Wat across the alley drew our attention, and we managed to spot a young novice perched precariously on some shed roofs trying to swat down green coconuts with a long bamboo pole. The roof was far from solid, and the coconuts stubborn - we held our breath until he succeeded in knocking down three plump nuts.

By 10AM, I was at the front door of the three elephants cooking school eagerly awaiting the lessons that would unlock the secrets to Laos cooking. Luckily, only one other student had signed up for class today. The two of us teamed up with the two teachers for a six hour intensive. Our day started with trip to the market where all kinds of forest fruits and vegetables, wild mushrooms, tobacco, and the carcases of anything that swims, crawls, or flies could be bought. Our teachers patiently explained how to choose everything we would need for the class (they had actually pre-purchased for us earlier on in the day), and we returned to the cooking school. Back at the school, the other student and I had tea while the teachers set up the 'classroom'. for he rest of the day, the teachers would prepare a dish and explain it, then the other student and I would take our cookbooks and try to repeat what the teacher had done. We were remarkably successful, producing a perfectly edible lunch and dinner. By the time the class ended, we had made 5 dishes ourselves, and learned how to make 3 more by watching the teacher.

Most of the dishes are quite easy. Here's one for you to try.

Luang Prabang Salad.
This salad is particular to this city. Laos watercress is milder than western watercress, so you may want to substitute baby spinach for half the watercress amount

Ingredients
Two handfuls salad leaves (lettuce, spinach, or a salad mix - we used green leaf lettuce)
One big handful watercress (See note above)
1 medium tomato, sliced
1 medium cucumber, sliced
cilantro for garnish
1Tbs crushed peanuts
1Tbs Minced pork cooked and drained (optional)
1hard boiled egg, sliced
2hard boiled egg yolks
2 Tbs oil (any veg oil will do)
2Tbs white vinegar
1Tbs sugar
.5tsp. white pepper (black is OK)
.25tsp salt

Prepare the sauce
Put 2 egg yolks, oil, vinegar, salt, sugar, and pepper in a blender or food processor
Blend until smooth


Make the salad
Coarsely chop the watercress and greens
Add dressing to taste and mix
Place the salad in a bowl or plate in a mound
Place the cucumber around the base
Layer the tomato above it on the sides of the mound
Follow with the eggs
Put a tuft of cilantro in the open space at the top
Drizzle with a little more dressing
Sprinkle with the peanuts, pork, and cilantro

We ended the day with an evening walk down the oh-so-European main street. Well except for the palm tree silouetted in the setting sun.

Day 225 - North Versus South

At one point, we had planned to visit only Northern Laos, as that is the part said to have the most beautiful mountains, nicest cities, and best infrastructure. Ironically, so far I have liked the south of Laos much more than the north. Granted, Vang Vieng was fun and I enjoyed our floating and spelunking, but it did feel rather like a wealthy young backpackers' playground, or a place for 'Trustafarians' (white Rastafarians with trust funds) to prove themselves. Vientiane was like any other capital city (what little we saw of it), and Luang Prabang, while lovely, could be any small French city, complete with portly grey-haired men and their plastic-surgeried wives. In short, the north feels like a picturesque tourist dump.

We began the day by waking up early-early to give alms to the monks. Each morning, the monks from the various monasteries walk through town collecting alms in their copper bowls. Because the the monks are not permitted to make or buy their own food, lay people line the route to drop offerings of sticky rice, fruit, biscuits, etc into the alms bowls. Our guest house is on the route, and guests are invited to participate. Unfortunately, because it is on the route, hawkers also line the road selling sticky rice, fruit, etc. at hugely inflated rates. Today we made the mistake of buying from the hawkers - we thought there might be something special about the foods they offer. We were wrong. Fruit from the market is just as appropriate and a fraction of the cost. Oh well, live and learn.

The incident did however serve to highlight one the major differences between the south and the more developed north. In the south, we hardly had to be on the lookout for scams at all. Up north, however, it seems everyone is trying to make something for nothing. It seems fairly consistent in developing countries that the more foreign visitors a place sees, the more money-focused and sly the people seem to become. It is understandable, given that even the most broke backpacker has more money than many of these people are liable to see in a lifetime, but it is hard feeling like a walking ATM.

After alms, we met up with N, a friend we met while trekking in Nepal. She is doing the SE Asia circuit in the opposite direction from us - starting north and working south, so it was great good luck that we were able to cross paths again. Much of the draw of northern Thailand and northern Laos are the mountains. We compared travel notes, and agreed that after Nepal, it takes some pretty damn fine mountains to impress us.

After breakfast, we split up to run some errands, and met again in the afternoon. Cz and I opted for the fully touristy trip to visit the local bear sanctuary and waterfalls, while Nikki decided to spend the afternoon with her roommate. The bear sanctuary provided a healthy home and rehabilitation to bears rescued from poachers. There is an active bear trade with China both for bile extraction (used in traditional medicines) and restaurants (bear paw soup is considered a delicacy). Because of poaching and habitat loss, the Asian black bear is now critically endangered. At the shelter, 12 bears snooze and play and live lives that would have otherwise have been robbed from them. The shelter is in the process of expanding to accommodate an additional 12 bears, and also to expand their rehabilitation and re-release programs.

Also on site is Phet, an Indochine tiger. She too was rescued from poachers when she was only four days old. Because she was raised and has spent her entire life with humans, she can never be released into the wild. Her enclosure, however is huge, and includes among the trees all sorts of tiger-size kitty toys.

A stream runs through both Phet and the bears' enclosure. Its source are the impressive Kuang Si waterfalls. A visiting group of monks provided some choice photo opportunities.

On our return from the park, we passed though a 'Hilltribe Village'. Perhaps once this had been a genuine village, but tourist traffic has reduced it to a mall of handicrafts where children barely able to speak call out, "Hello, Hello, You can buy from Mee-eee". I understand the need for the tribes to make money selling crafts. I suspect some well-intentioned European supplied the materials and the villagers the labour, but the method of selling, and the 'human zoo' feeling of the place was really depressing. I felt exploitive walking through and not purchasing anything, but if I had made a purchase, I would have felt worse for supporting such activity. It was a no win situation that put both of us in a dark mood.

So far Luang Prabang's saving grace has been the food. Once again dinner was lovely and cheap.

After our meal, we walked through the night market near our guesthouse. anything and everything was offered up for sale spread on blankets under bare bulbs and candles. It felt like a much more genuine way of selling crafts and goods. We purchased a few kilo of oranges in hopes of a better alms-giving experience tomorrow.

Day 224 - Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang

We woke up earlier today than any other day in Laos. We were rewarded by the moon setting through the mist between 'our' karsts (it was very bright in real life - in the photo it's barely visible in between the smaller and larger dome shaped formations left of center).

By 9AM we were on the road again, heading for Luang Prabang. The road is mercifully paved, but it does switchback through mountains for almost the entire route. Because the curves side to side and the grades up and down, the less than 200Km trip takes nearly 6hours.

We were exhausted by the time we finally pulled into the minibus depot outside Luang Prabang. A part of Luang Prabang's status as a world heritage site forbids buses from entering the city. As a result, all buses stop about 4km outside of town, and weary travelers are forced to negotiate a tuk-tuk into the city proper.

That done, it is a simple matter to walk from guesthouse to guesthouse until one finds one with suitable rooms for a decent price. We (OK I) have decided to splash out a little for a western bed, hot shower, and blissfully solid walls. Even at those standards, a night at our guesthouse still costs less than a night at the movies in NYC.

After taking hot showers (our first in weeks), we headed out for dinner. We were looking for 'Dragon Girl' restaurant, listed in Lonely Planet in case N, a friend we met trekking, wanted to join us for dinner. After walking the length of the restaurants along the Mekong, we concluded that it must have gone out of business, and settled on an outdoor barbecue place with no name. As we grilled and cooked soup at our table, took in the location and the type of food, it slowly dawned on us that our 'no name' restaurant was in fact Dragon Grill. But of course everyone just referred to it as "Laos Barbecue restaurant". Oh wacky outdated Lonely Planet.

Thankfully our friend was not trying to find us, so we didn't doom her to a night of hungry wandering.

Day 223 - Spelunking...

...It's fun to say - more fun to do. The limestone karsts (there's a scrabble word for you) around Vang Vieng are pockmarked with caves of all shapes and sizes. Most are within 6km of our guesthouse, so today we rented mountain bikes and went bumping along through the woods and across dry rice paddies in search or underground adventure.

None of the caves are developed in the way of Laurey Caverns with lights and walkways. At each one, you pay 10,000kip (about $1) for an entrance ticket, headlamp (if you do not have your own), and guide if there is any chance of your becoming lost.

The first cave we stopped at, Tiger Cave, we did need a guide for, if only to show us how to wriggle through the entrances top the caverns. This one is not for the large, claustrophobic, or acrophobic (fear of heights). The adventure begins by scrambling up a steep narrow trail to the cave mouth, which is framed by stalagmites and stalactites like tigers' teeth. Once in, one soon must squeeze through a small hole, cross a rickety bamboo bridge over a dark, bottomless chasm, and and climb a ladder to another narrow gap (I barely fit). Scariest was where we had to scale smooth limestone formations on the far end of the bamboo bridge. Read: climb rocks with no hand or footholds over a chasm with only a few bamboo rods between self and horrible splatty death. It was grand fun.

We followed Tiger Cave with another cave that promised a pool where one could swim. Bolstered by our success in Tiger Cave, we opted to do this one solo, with only our little reading headlamps for light. They worked a charm, but the ratio of light to great, dark cave was definitely in cave's favour.

Unfortunately, being dry season, the pool was all dried up, though it left behind a sea of lovely red mud. Naturally 'war painting' was inevitable, sending the Lao girls at the entrance into fits of giggles when we emerged back into daylight.

We pedaled furiously back across the paddies to return our bikes in time to shower and be ready for sunset. Everyday we have planned to catch the sunset from our back door, and every day have been elsewhere. Today we made it.

Before our caving adventure, we spent some time in town itself. Laos is the most heavily bombed country in the world. During the 'Secret War' roughly a half ton of bombs was dropped for every man, woman, and child living in Laos. Probably no propaganda for the Pathet Lao was more successful than the US bombing runs in its bid to 'make the world safe for democracy'. Many of the millions of tons of ammo remain undetonated and are a leading cause of injury and fatalities in some provinces. Even in peaceful Vang Vieng, the beginning and end of bridge are decorated with old bomb casings.

The bridge itself is a toll bridge. I imagine they turn quite a tidy profit in the rainy season when the river runs high. In the dry season however, naked children and broke backpackers can find it much more economical just to wade.

Day 222 - The Good and The Bad

First The Bad. Or The Adventures of Drinky McBarfsalot. Or Why I Am SO OVER Bamboo Walls. This is not a tale for weak stomachs.

Some things you need to know.

1. Bamboo walls are not soundproof. Not even a little bit.

2. I. HATE. vomit. I do not like to sit in aisle seats on airplanes because I fear someone on their way to the toilet might throw up on me. Pregnant ladies make me nervous because of morning sickness. Ditto drunk people. I cover my eyes for vomit scenes in movies. And the list goes on...

So understand my horror when on our second night in Don Det we are awakened to the sound of a girl sobbing next door. Followed by...BLEAAARGH gurgle SPLAT and a man's voice saying sorry, sorry. It was all I could do to keep from responding "Well you should be!" Then more sobbing and frantic girl talking in Korean. Followed again by BLEAAAARG gurgle. gurgle. SPLAT. And more sobbing. Repeat ad nauseum (pun intended).

Drinky McBarfsalot as I have now christened our lovely neighbor was sharing his bungalow with two women. Between the guesthouse owner, the Turkish guy in the bungalow on their other side, and I, we deduced that he and girl 1 were probably an item. He got exceedingly drunk and made a pass at girl 2. Resulting in A: Girl 1 crying and B: Him projectile vomiting. Jackass.

This would be somewhat OK if the story ended there. But oh no, the saga continues. The very next night, I am awakened to a girl with an Aussie accent saying "Oh I feel so sick". Followed shortly thereafter by URP URP Bleagh Splash. URP cough splash flush. I can be a little more sympathetic as she tried to be quiet, and probably just had food poisoning, but still two nights in a row?!

The bus ride was mercifully vomit-free. BUT our very first night in Vang Vieng...It was like Drinky McBarfsalot revisited, minus the sobbing and the Korean. At least the next day his girlfriend apologised for him. Food poisoning apparently - he actually wound up in hospital. But not before causing me to vow to NEVER EVER rent a bamboo-walled bungalow again!

And now the good. And it's very good.

As mentioned before, tubing the Nam Song is the main activity in Vang Vieng. So this afternoon, we rented ourselves two tubes, hitched a a ride upstream, and flopped into the water. In rainy season it's a fast and furious float with even a few rapids. In dry season (now), the river meanders along just strong enough to make paddling redundant.

All along the way, entrepreneurial Laos have set up open-air bars and rope swings into the river. The water didn't seem deep enough for the rope swings to feel really safe, so we opted out of those. Most of the bars seemed to cater to a much younger clientele, where everyone's bits seemed to not yet have heard of gravity, and to wear anything more than a string bikini positively prudish. So we drifted on. After the first glut of 19-year olds doing mating dances, the bars mellowed out considerably, often being just a collections of bamboo platforms built into the river with a sign offering up Beer Laos. We stopped at one of these, and watched bemused as the Beer Laos gondola poled its frothy load to our side.

After drinking our lukewarm beer and baking like lizards for a while, we flopped back into our tubes to continue floating our way into town. By the time we drifted back to the tube rental place, the sun was going down, and we agreed it had been an afternoon well spent.

Every night the moon has been getting fatter and fatter. All over town today, we have been seeing signs advertising a full moon party at one of the riverside bars. Having never been to a full-moon party, and having heard tales, we decided to take the plunge. As we walked towards the sounds of revelry, the moon did its best to prove its fullness.

Once at the party, we bought the drink of choice a 'long island bucket'. As the name implies, it is a little beach bucket filled with long island ice tea. As we sipped our 'tea', we watched the rest of the crowd dancing and drinking. It all seemed a little pathetic. I would guess the average age of the crowd to be about 19, and they all seemed to be trying to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible and to prove that they were having a good time - which very few of them actually seemed to be doing.

That said, the fire pits and lights were nice, but as soon as we finished our drink, I was ready to leave. BUT, as we got up to go, the DJ finally put on some Bon Jovi, Bryan Adams, Queen, ACDC, and even some Beatles. We found a little pocket of people that might have been closer to our own age who actually seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves. The final half hour of the party was a total blast.

And we left before anyone started throwing up.

Day 221 - Professional Nomads

Our Queen of the buses arrived in Vientiane at about 6:30 this morning. We quickly caught a jumbo (jumbo-size tuk-tuk - like a three-wheel bus) into the town center and began our quest for a room. Because we decided to leave for Vientiane a day early, we had not booked anything. We figured that being the capitol city there would be plenty of options. We were wrong.

All of the decent places were either fully booked or weren't sure if the people who said they would be checking out (and thereby freeing up rooms) would in fact be checking out. In my quest for a guesthouse, I found one with with twice-daily service to Vang Vieng, the next stop on our itinerary. Seeing as the only thing we really wanted to do in Vientiane was see the Beer Lao factory, and seeing that Vientiane suffers from 'Capital City Syndrome' (everything costs more than elsewhere in the country), we decided to go ahead and catch the 10AM minibus to Vang Vieng rather than waiting around for a room that may or may not appear.

This proved to be a wise decision. We arrived in Vang Vieng at about 3:30, and by 4:30 had found a guesthouse for a paltry $4 a night. And four dollars a night in Vang Vieng buys this view (actually taken from the rear door of our room).

While wandering about Vang Vieng before finding our guesthouse, I met a girl traveling alone who wanted a tubing buddy (tubing the Nam Song is one the prime Vang Vieng activities). Within minutes of checking into our bungalow, we met up again and walked to the tubing place. Unfortunately it was already closed for the day, but a friend of hers was sitting in the outdoor cafe next door. We joined them, planning on just having a few fruit shakes. An hour and half, sandwich, and noodles later, we decided to meet up again in a few hours for dinner.

In case you hadn't gathered already, eating is a big deal in SE Asia - very cheap, and very good. Vang Vieng is not generally known for its cuisine, but there is an organic farm near town that supports a local school through its two cafes. we opted to do our part for the community by eating large plates of stir-fried veggies and fish and by drinking local fair-trade sugar palm beer. By the time we finished stuffing ourselves, it was past 10PM, and apparently most of Vang Vieng's bedtime. Failing to find and open coffeeshop, we settled for a another round of fruit shakes - I could easily get addicted to fresh lemon-mint smoothies - and then to bed.

Day 220 - Queen of Laos

We ate breakfast this morning with the owner of our guesthouse. As we chatted, the subject of monkeys came up, and it turns out the family running the place has a monkey as well. This particular monkey has been around for 4 or 5 years, and has developed quite a reputation a s a misogynistic little monkey. When we went to visit him, he immediately hopped on the guesthouse owner's shoulder and began 'grooming' his hair, looking up periodically to give me the evil eye.

To prove the monkey's fearsome reputation, the guesthouse owner had me grab his wrist. Immediately the monkey puffed up his fur, bared his teeth, and began hooting. I was very grateful for the sturdy tether keeping his teeth and claws at bay. A few soft words from the owner and a plump banana were all it took to calm him down. That and me feigning complete disinterest in either the monkey or Cz, the Turkish fellow also with us, or the owner of the guesthouse.

The monkey had so entertained us that we nearly missed our boat to the mainland to catch the bus to Pakse. When we arrived at the 'bus stop', really a storefront with a garage, our 'bus' turned out to be a Toyota van that had seen better days. Feeling a little dubious we clambered aboard. It coughed and spluttered its way into Pakse where we were deposited at the bus terminal at 1:30. Our bus to Vientiane wasn't scheduled to leave until 8:00PM. We wandered around for bit, totally disenchanted with the town. We read and played cards for a while, but mostly sulked. Finally, we broke down and hailed a tuk-tuk to take us to Delta Coffee, supposedly the source for some of the best coffee in the country. Not only do they roast the beans in house, but they actually grow their own coffee on a nearby plantation. Contrary to the rest of the town, it did not disappoint. To be fair, where we had wandered were the fringes - I'm sure the town center is far more pleasant.

By the time we finished our coffee and early supper, we had just enough time to walk back to the bus depot and use the bathroom before meeting our VIP night bus to Vientiane.

She was the drag queen of buses. Perfectly airbrushed, she towered over the more humble vehicles, batting pink-curtained eyelashes at anyone who cared to look in her windows. On the lower levels, the extra VIP passengers got whole beds. Us lesser mortals had to content ourselves with reclining seats, but even those had blankets and little doilies on the headrests.

Shortly into the journey a man came down the aisle bearing bottles of water and warm dinners - which even had a dainty cilantro garnish across the top. We were most impressed. We were less impressed with the not one, but two karaoke televisions blaring Lao pop which seem to be the staple of Laos buses. Mercifully, the TV's were turned off from about 10:00PM to about 5AM.

And there wasn't a single chicken, goat, or person sitting in the aisle on a plastic stool in sight (the other staples of SE Asian buses).

Day 219 - Monkey Business

I spent the morning playing dice and cards on the restaurant terrace with our guesthouse owner. Cz spent his morning trying to mend his hiking boots and lounging in his hammock. This is fairly typical for a morning on Don Det. By the time we finally managed to pry ourselves away, it was nearly 2PM, and we were hungry. We wandered into town in search of a good lunch. An open-air restaurant beckoned with low tables and cushioned seating . As we sipped our drinks and waited for our meal, a small animal darted across the opposite row of tables. I was about to comment to Cz on what a strange mew the 'kitten' had when the 'kitten' made a flying leap into a startled Cz's arms. The opposable thumbs and prehensile tail explained why it sounded most un-kittenlike.

After getting some scratchies from Cz, the 'kitten' hopped onto our table, pulled the straw out of my drink, and proceeded to slurp up most of my lemon shake. Common in the islands are 'happy shakes', fruit smoothies spiked with ganja. Luckily mine was not of the happy variety, or that would have been one stoned little monkey.

He managed to evade capture for a few more minutes before his owner was able to bribe him home with a handful of fruit.

Deciding that the monkey was enough excitement for one day, Cz retreated to his hammock. I rented a bicycle and spent the afternoon pedaling the length of our island, and then across the defunct French railroad bridge onto Don Khon, the next island over. Don Khon is even more laid-back than Don Det, where water buffalo and chickens outnumber people. Towards the southern end of Don Khon, the Mekong drops almost 100m over the span of about 3 football fields. The falls themselves are fairly impressive, but more impressive are the flimsy bamboo bridges built out into the raging water. During low water, brave Lao fishermen balance on these bridges to set fish traps in the rushing water. On the far side of the falls, the river has cut a deep chasm in the surrounding rock, making an impressive funnel of roaring blue-green water between nearly vertical black limestone walls.

Further down the island, the scrubby forest opens out onto a huge white sand beach. Understandably, the beach is popular with locals and foreigners alike for volleyball, hackeysack, badminton, and other games. The rocks off the beach also make a natural green lagoon, perfect for an afternoon paddle. Had we not already seen river dolphins in Kratie, boats also run from this beach to another pocket of them further up the Mekong.

Not wanting to get caught in the dark with my bicycle, I only spent a little while playing at the beach before turning homeward. The pedal back was entirely peaceful, with hardly another person in sight, and my tires making almost no sound on the soft sand roads.

Day 218 - Life in the Slow Lane

We lazed about in bed until the sunlight streaming into our little hut made sleep impossible - which was about 8AM. We rolled out of bed and took our time washing up and getting dressed before meandering over to the riverfront cafe affiliated with our bungalows. We both ordered mint tea, which turned out to be actual mint leaves steeped in boiling water. Very light and refreshing, and very attractive against the green and blue morning on the Mekong.

After breakfast, I set to work scrubbing at least some of the red dust out of our clothes. This took a good bit of time, but was made pleasant by the breeze off the river and the view of fishermen from our porch.

Laundry finished, we strolled to a neighboring guest house for a lunch of Laab (also spelled Larp or Larb), the national dish of Lao. Laab consists of meat (fish, chicken, beef or pork) minced together with herbs, lime and chilis, and served with lettuce and rice.

After lunch, we decided to have a walk around the island. The pace here is so relaxed that even the bakery mouser has time for a catnap.

Our walk was in no way strenuous, but we decided it best to spend the rest of the afternoon making sure our hammocks were in good working order. Don Det might make for slow living, but we are tearing through our books.

We finished out the evening with another fine river sunset.

Life is good in the slow lane.