Laos : Luang Prabang : Wats; Currency

Incongruous amongst the colonial architecture were Luang Prabang’s many wats - sometimes low slung, sometimes shiny glam. One wat was a complex of tiny buildings nestled on a huge hill in the middle of town. Every intricate building, carved staircase or Buddha image you came across felt like a DISCOVERY!
The hill made all journeys much longer – to go anywhere the other side of the hill became a major mission.
Luang Prabang’s wats were alive, almost all had monastic communities thriving on the free children’s education. We heard drumming from one wat. It was pouring with rain and so we went up to listen. We got chatting to one monk, accompanied by a very bony mad guy. He wore only purple Y-fronts and would occasionally grin manaically – exposing his teeth and gums. The monk was amazing – he studied English from an ancient textbook from 4am through to midnight with rock-solid determination. He met the crazy guy whilst sitting on the temple steps and recounting the tales of Buddha in English out loud to himself. He spoke about education – some thing so taken for granted in the western world especially compared to here. Even where government schools are available, many kids have to stay home and help their families. This guy had left his village (30km outside Luang Prabang) to be educated at a monastery but couldn’t go to University because he couldn’t afford the two million kip a year fees. We had two million kip in our bag from changing £100 that morning. We almost felt like handing him the carrier bag of notes.
The currency here is daft – inflation runs at a ridiculous rate and the government can’t print higher denominations fast enough. We were given two million kip in thick bundles of five thousand kip bills. One guy we spoke to said he took out his carrier bag of notes to pay a bill in a restaurant, then the proprietress brought out her carrier bag of notes to give him his change. It’s not quite so daft for some locals – the guy changing the money for me parted with “That would last my family three months”…
Wat Xieng Thong was the most opulent – sited on an outcrop into the Mekong it was rich with intricate stencil decoration and shimmering glass murals on a deep red background. The monks were drying rice cakes along the wall in the sun.

Laos : Luang Prabang : Night Market

Luang Prabang is the second largest city in Laos. It feels like a sleepy provincial place in the South of France. A lazy coffee by the roadside felt civilised after all the chilli and garlic of Thailand. The town had style – at the night market almost everything was beautifully designed and handcrafted. The wares seemed mass-produced – they were so perfect and yet the range of colours and designs was limited. But these were simply the traditions – old women nimbly weave and stitch cloth without even making measurements. The Luang Prabang night market looked beautiful – the dim glow from bare bulbs illuminating umbrellas, lanterns and myriad silks. It was so tricky to look round – stall holders would unfurl everything they owned at the slightest sign of interest. It had a lazy charm.

Laos : Huay Xai - Luang Prabang : Slow Boat; Rain; Steak

My first day on the slow boat was cramped and definitely slow. We slid through fantastic scenery – high mountains with cloud covered peaks lit by bright angles of sunlight.
I was stuck in the middle row seats and couldn’t see. The six hours oozed by fairly uneventfully. Liv saw it all and had a great time. I did meet Mitul – a slick but shy Indian guy from West London. He was zipping through cities on a 4 month, non-stop round the world race with his wheelie suitcase. This proved outstandingly practical along the river mud banks. Everyone thought we were nuts because of the fasting, we developed quite a reputation. It did begin to drive us nuts – we had long conversations about FOOD – perfectly prepared and in gigantic portions.
The next day Liv and I got on LAST – we tried to engineer our way onto another (locals only) boat with loads of spare room, but failed. The main boat was already full, but we were given fantastic plastic chairs to put in the aisle – loads of legroom and a great view.
That day it RAINED - fat rain that massaged your palm and obliterated the water’s surface. The sky poured for hours until it was blue again – we had a gorgeous next couple of days in Luang Prabang.
The Imodium had proven very effective for our three toiletless days of travel. It continued to work its magic right into next week.
Our dreams were fulfilled. We ordered. We imagined – a thick succulent slab of steak, crisp and brown on the outside and pink and moist on the inside. It came with a rich mushroom sauce, some pert French fries and a cursory salad. It hit the spot – and started a binge for WESTERN food that lasted several days.

Thailand : Mae Sai : Shenanigans

Back in Chiang Mai, things moved fast. The camera wasn’t taking pictures, but we could apparently buy the same one really cheap in Mae Sai on the Burmese border.
Since Mae Sai was apparently only 30km or so from Chaing Khlong (the Lao border and our next destination) we hoped to pass through Mae Sai and pick up a new camera without spending a whole day on it.
We missed the last bus by ten minutes and the bus the next morning was full. In the end we managed to get a bus only going half the way and change. The seats were designed with four foot tall people in mind, the ride was gruelling. Everything in Thailand is designed for the slightly shorter man – shelves and even ceilings are exactly the right height so you think you can clear it, but bash your head. Even condoms come in a slightly smaller size.
Mae Sai was a dump – one long strip of ramshackle dirty shopfronts led to a monolithic government building presumably designed to keep the Burmese out.
We had a fun evening the previous night having discovered we both had the squits. This mixes amusingly with squat toilets or long bus rides. The ‘it’s not polite or pleasant to talk about poo’ barrier was flushed away and we rashly decided that a 36 hour fast was the only surefire solution.
Walking down the strip in Mae Sai we were over 12 hours in – Liv was starting to feel deliriously hungry. There was also no sign of any of the (illegally imported) cheap digital cameras I had been looking forward to, only charmingly garish jewellery. We stomped into the 7-Eleven. Despite her hunger, Liv was decided that the food had to WESTERN. She bought sliced white bread, a pat of butter and some processed cheesy slices. We sat down on the pavement to eat. I was still fasting and so only had a Slurpee.
It started to rain. The dust turned to grime. We discovered Chiang Khlong was 100km away, and there was no bus. We were forced to take a taxi, the fare was 1000 baht (just over £10) but saved us a day travelling the 600km back to Chiang Rai and then back out to Chiang Khlong. The bemused taxi driver dropped us off at a great guesthouse.
This collection of bungalows was run by a Thai guy – convinced he was Mexican and with the plaits to prove it. He thought he was really cool. In a way he was – feet up on the bar strumming along to Hendrix. He would come over to give some chat about how his guesthouse was really non-commercial or how his music was his music. Then he’d wander off without a word in edgeways. His tasty chicken fajitas made me break my fast. They were extra tasty.

Thailand : Chiang Mai : Trekking : Bamboo Rafting

The rafts were in the river backwards - Two had to turn them around. He tried two at once, without even tying them together. The pole broke. the rafts came apart and drifted downstream. The villagers sploshed into the mayhem, falling about and battling with the current.
The trekking company made the raft sound rock solid - two layers of bamboo for withstanding rock hits. When we got on it sank about a foot. Two stood at the front, looking the part in his rice-picker hat and steering with a long bamboo pole. I stood at the back to punt the raft along (a lazy job with the current).
We drifted through beautiful scenery, flanked by steep jungle on either side. Palm trees popped from the hilltops like lollipops.
The rafts were great in the rapids. They simply sank underwater, the water sloshed around our feet. Liv was sitting in the middle of the boat and got soaked. We wiggled and scraped through rocks. Suddenly Jean Pierre cried out - he was knee deep in water, but still on the raft. The part he was standing on had unknotted and simply falled out. We stopped for a while and fiddled with bamboo but were eventually saved by a local with some rope. On one vicious rapid an overturned boat was stuck on the rocks. Liv was sloshed about a bit too much and her camera got wet, putting a bit of a damper on things.
We punted carefully. As the river got calmer, we joked around more, jumping in and splashing people..."A SNAKE! A SNAKE!"
I tried swimming down some rapids. The rocks were very close underwater and I got bashed about.

Thailand : Chiang Mai : Trekking : Elephant Riding

We started out with a long walk, winding through the village. Two filled us in on many aspects of village life - the fruits and herbs they grew, rice threshing, their beleifs. They mainly worship spirits. This is very cumbersome to the encroach of Western Medicine as they vehemently prefer spirit doctors to medics. There are also some strange customs such as burying the umbilical cord of a newborn under a huge tree (massive trees are considered to house spirits and are therefore sacred). The person can then later make offerings at the same spot, or on the top of a big termite mound. This will give them good luck. If someone is having difficulty having children, the queen termite from the middle of the mound preserved with whisky should solve the problem. If a boy has a ball that hasn't dropped, they are given an earring (and for males in no other circumstances). The hill tribe people find Western men with earrings quietly hilarious.
Crossing rivers was particularily tricky - usually a bridge was simply a thick felled tree. Two told us after much wobbling that the locals carry goods to market on motorbikes over these tightropes!
He knew everything about local plants - we tried to trick Liv by covering my hands with a red dye he extracted from teak leaves. She was not impressed.
The Thais have a great sense of sanuk (fun). Two loved surprising us - jumping out in front or splashing us - "A SNAKE! A SNAKE!"
His favourite gag was - "OK, in five minutes we arrive at elephant camp!" Over a mountain and splash through a river delta - and we did.
When we got to the elephant camp the elephants were having a wash. They were bent down in the middle of the river, with men on each back to scrub them. Their skin was very wrinkly and baggy and hung down in dusty folds around their legs.
When I sat astride their thick necks I could see their thick black hairs - sharp bristles.
My elephant was very gentle. It lumbered through deep mud and rivers, wide ears flapping and flicking against my legs. It was a funny elephant, always wandering off to grab some food - a small bush or so. It drove its keeper to distraction - in the end he was forced to cut down a big bush in entirety to satisfy it.
The elephants dropped us off a little way from the village we were staying at - I think the keepers just got bored.
The path was mud - cratered with elephant footprints. We had to clamber from well to well but it was worth it. We were staying in a beautiful village around a river. The banks were thick with mud, bamboo and tribesmen. The whole village was involved with raft-building and preparing the bamboo right down to the grannies- sitting amid a grassland of white bamboo strips expertly split from a large chunk.
Jean Pierre ran out of money. He couldn't even buy water. He wandered round villages and managed to find someone willing to change two Euros. He was now rich!
Two got things going after dinner with the CHANG SONG, animated actions and some local moonshine in bamboo cups. It was gorgeous - really smooth (and much nicer than Talisker, even though it's so simple to produce). The locals emerged from the village, tempted by Western quantities of alcohol. They got hilariously drunk, along with our guides. Two tried to get all of us to sing - "We need France song, England song, Switzerland song"...The Swiss girls sang "Take me home, country roads".
Liv and I got everyone doing the "Hokey Cokey" - the Thais loved it and wanted to know what the words meant.
Jean Pierre sang a fantastic campy song about a rabbit and a deer who make friends in the face of hunter adversity.
We were drinking shots here and there, the drunkenness gap widening. The Thais seem to think drunken driving is absolutely hilarious - one guy told us it was his favourite time to ride his motorbike and take shots at dogs. "In Thailand, we don't like the dogs, we have too many. So I hit them with my moto. Somtimes, I fall off"...He had a meaty scar around his collarbone.

Thailand : Chiang Mai : Trekking

A lot of research went into our trek. We talked to a whole load of people, including one extremely irritating eco-warrior who we then kept bumping into around town. We had to invent a way of asking "Do the natives wear the pretty outfits?" without asking "Do the natives wear the pretty outfits?"... In the end we went of the MOST touristy trek - it sounded the FUNNEST.
We started out at an out-of-town market with diverse delicacies - such as frogs on skewers and deep fried bugs. We were pestered for a good half hour by a native girl to buy a water bottle holder for 40 baht. She actually got angry with us for not buying it. Since she was so small and cute, I thought this was hilarious. I also almost tripped over her several times - she was so short she didn't quite enter my field of view. This added to the anger/hilarity.
We drove. Thirteen of us, crammed into the back of a pick-up with three days food - predominantly garlic.
The conversation was predominantly FOOTBALL - why is everyone so obsessed? I thought things might be different outside Britain. Jean-Pierre was a French guy who managed somehow to look like a rugged desert guide, despite his campy mannerisms. He was travelling in interesting circumstances with a girl who wasn't his girlfriend.
We formed the CONVERSATIONAL ALLIANCE AGAINST FOOTBALL, were triumphant and swung the conversation to POLITICS: education and tax-rates across Europe. Most Europeans are PAID to go to University, however they also pay higher taxes, have to join the army for a year and can be called up at any time after training.
Two was a great guide - always making fun and giving us little asides into Thai and Hill Tribe culture.
He looked very jaunty in his rice-picker hat as he raced us up steep mudslides. The tight-knit bamboo tunnels ruffled our hair and sprinkled us with bugs. I have come to loathe bugs and their bites, and take pleasure in CRUSHING BUG DEATH - smearing their remains across my palm to extract my own blood.
Two was very much a local - and took great delight in revealing to us his turf and inside knowledge. He took us to a beautiful waterfall - all jutting rocks and sparkling spray. Liv and I splashed on and under the fall itself. The water was cool and shallow, it thumped our heads and backs leaving us bruised and deaf...but refreshed!
We strode on - to the "miraculous" hot spring. The water sploshed angrily and warned off fingers with intense heat. The rocks were furry with rich minerals, boiling water exuded from every rock orifice. I wanted to cook something - but we only had Pringles.
Pringles have become a rare delicacy, a visceral respite from Thai food.
We climbed the worn steps of the path through knitted bamboo. It felt as if we were ascending the labyrinthine tunnels of a cathedral spire. We emerged into the sparse mountaintop jungle and a snaking red path cut into the hillside. The evening light cut through the overhanging trees, making the myriad leaves sparkle a la "Doors to Perception".
We worked through meandering paths and teetered across rivers. Signs of habitation slowly poked out of the vegetation. Split bamboo channels led 'fresh' water and us to the White Karen village.
The tribe derive their name from their virgins, who wear white woven outfits - practical but gorgeous in a earthy way.
The village was beautiful in a haphazard way - chickens and pigs ran about a handful of bamboo houses on stilts. The seemingly scattered plants were all purposeful - bearing fruits or medicines.
The buildings were dead simple - a room each for sleeping, cooking and eating; and a balcony for work (like weaving or preparing rice). No toilet/bathroom - this was shared among the whole village!
Two cooked us a fantastic meal - a yellow curry with chicken, a pork soup and sweet & sour tofu; all served with sticky rice and all cooked using only two woks.
I was feeling extremely ill, so fell asleep as soon as my belly was full. I missed an interesting chat with Two. Apparently Thais worship a mixture of Buddhism and Hinduism - therefore they actively worship the Buddha, and also their ancestors and sometimes the monarchy!
I thankfully also missed the three Swiss girls who were trekking with us attempting to play the guitar. "Take me home, country roads" was all they knew, we heard it many times. Perhaps "Kum-by-yah" would've added some variety.