Apocalypse Lao

am Luang Prabang, from our balcony. We arrived Monday up the Mekong by speed boat. It was six hours in the boat and for much of that time we seemed to have the Mekong to ourselves. Just mile after mile of mighty red river with an endless landscape of steep densely wooded hills on either side. For long stretches there was scarcely any signs of human life, just the occasional fishing canoe or tiny thatched hut hamlets.

It probably sounds romantic. We have called the trip Apocalypse Lao. We had been repeatedly scammed, fleeced for more dollars at every turn since we arrived at the Lao border after a 9 hour mini bus ride from Pai. The bus journey was standard; packed, a driver who went slow on the straights and like a maniac through the mountain hairpins; a drunken Irishwoman who never stopped talking until the valium kicked in and her friend who stopped the bus a couple of times to throw up. I managed some sleep only to wake to hear Gill whispering that the driver was 'drifting off' at the wheel. We arrived at Cheung kong at about 6 am, at the Thai border We'd booked our ticket all the way through from Pai to Luang Prabang. But of course, not so simple. our so-called guide dumped us down by the river – had to pay to take the ferry to Heuy Sai and Lao immigration – and just hope that once there the guide's 'sister' would take us to the speed boat pier.


The Lonely Planet guide warns that the Lao government has tried to stop speed boat trips for tourists. No wonder. The Mekong must be well over a 100 metres wide in places, currents are fast and sometimes flow in opposite directions, and it's dotted with eddies and whirlpools and rock formations that sometimes extend half the width of the river. Even before you get on the boat you have to negotiate what it is laughingly called the ferry pier – extraordinarily steep steps, at times with no hand rail, and then a wooden gang plank over the water to the jetty where aout half a dozen Lao locals and a lonely Japanese tourist had already been waiting for two hours. The speed boats will only travel with at least six passangers we were now told, and we were just four. We stared in disbelief. The boat was a motorised canoe,with a colossal Toyota 1.6 litre outboard engine. There is no way in god's earth you can pack six in there with all our luggage. For $45 dollars more Lynda manages to negotiate a boat for just the four of us.

We crammed in. The mangey life jackets brought no more protection than the crash helmets which threatened to strangle us if they didn't fly off our heads first. The boat set off at the speed of a Thorpe Park thrill ride. J and I were in the front part of the boat, and for the first hour cramp threatened every muscle below the waist, as despite Lynda's efforts a Lao man appeared out of nowhere to jump on board and hitch a ride. There we were squeezing limbs wherever we could find space, sitting virtually on the waterline, numbness spreading from bum to toe, calculating the chances of swimming to safety should the inevitable happen or if it shouldn't, how we could survive at least six more hours of this.

A few minutes later we arrive at a floating bar, where unbelievably Jenks decides to stand up in the boat and have a fag. Off we race again and then another stop seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The hitcher jumps out muttering something about monkeys and miming camera actions. And then a group of children appear from thin air – we give them a few baht for some tatty cloth bracelets – and they hang around the boat, a little boy tugging at our anchor and threatening to cast us adrift. The driver had disappeared, we had no idea how long we would be left there, we had no way out and nowhere to go. Jenks and I started humming the Deliverance banjo twang.

At long last the driver returned, minus hitching passenger – and we set off again Nearly two hours of breakneck speed, bouncing hard on the wash, skating between rocks and floating branches, before a lunch at a wooden way station on stilts in the river. There is no way Lynda, Jenks or I will eat anything. Amazingly Gill orders a bowl of noodle soup – and it looks delicious, accompanied by a plate piled high with fresh herbs.

A little later, and after the inevitable loo from hell experience we are back in a boat. Changed boat, and changed drivers – and a new passenger. This time a young Lao student who tells us he has a US embassy scholarship to study humanities in the university of Wyoming. We believe him because why would you make that up?

This time the boat speeds on without stopping all the way – almost – to Luang Prabang. We are starting to enjoy the ride. In fact we are now loving it. We have got used to the speed, the concrete hard bangs as the boat bounces, even the occasional sound of propeller scraping rock as the driver cuts it fine. There is very little margin for error on his part, but at least if we are now to die, none of us would have missed this experience.

We relax and enjoy the magical views, the sense of almost pre-history as we speed through miles and miles of forested hills most of which have never seen human habitation. Signs of life – and even modernity emerge more frequently as we near Luang Prabang. More boats, larger and better built villages, children playing on the river banks, villagers panhandling the river for what I don't know, maybe iron.

Disembarking was no easier than embarking. A bamboo jetty which sunk under our weight as we all stood on it. A clamber through mud to yet another set of dismayingly steep steps – for a couple of dollars are packs were carried for us. At the top, we were told 12 kilometres to Luang Prabang and 16 dollars for the tuktuk. Exhausted and fed up with being scammed for yet another bit extra, we got out and walked. At last we bargained a sensible price and arrived here in Luang Prabang.

Luang Prabang. The place is a jewel in the middle of nowhere. It is a world heritage site with ancient temples and pagodas and heavy French colonial influence. It is a beautiful and calm little town – and according to Australian tourism development worker I met yesterday it has become a tourist mecca in remarkably short time. Hardly any cars, just bikes in the town, plenty of cafes, a couple of excellent markets and loads and loads of little travel agencies offering elephant treks and white water rafting.

This is where Jenks and I will stay on for a few days and we part company with Lynda and Gill. They will be flying to malaysia in a few days and want to see a bit more of Laos first. We have learnt an awful lot from them about travelling, negotiating borders, finding decent fair-priced rooms, and bargaining in markets. They've left us pages of notes about Vietnam and Cambodia. Now we will take some time to plan the rest of stay in Laos – and our route to Vietnam – by plane I think – and avoiding land crossings where possible. But there is something abut the Mekong. We're already thinking of the fast boat to Cambodia.
Lots of love
Maggie & Lesley (jenks)

WHIZZ, BANG, FIZZ

Pai, North West Thailand July 8th

this is the third time I've started this blog and finally Ive found some peace and space for it lying on a hammock. Strangely it is perfectly fit for purpose.

while the several re-starts are spookily reminscent of work, the reason this time is better. We have been whizz bang fizz since we arrived in Bangkok a week ago. Just eight days actually and this is the fourth location and the sixth bed we have had in that time. In Bangkok for four days, then two nights in the jungle at the Khao Yai national park, one night in Chaing Mai and now we are up in the mountains in the north of Thailand in a beautiful spot called Pai. Eight days and already it is an adventure.

Gill and Lynda are built for speed. They leave packing to the last minute, while we set aside a couple of hours, and still they beat us to the bus, train, taxi, tuktuk – whatever transport it is we are using. They stride boldy across the teeming city roads and the cars just avoid them. We stare at each other – consult the map and hope we can plan a route that does not actually involve dicing with death.

Talk of dicing with death brings me back to transport – Jenks would not sit in the front of the taxi for the 2 and half hour ride to Khao Yai. I invoked Zen for the duration. It was for the best since the cash machine had swallowed my card earlier that morning, I'd spent 20 minutes trying to get thru to the bank hotline in Leeds finally to talk to real person – Richard – who was a little slow grasping the international dimension. Back to the taxi – let's say health and safety is not big in Thailand and non-existant on the motorways. Overtake inside, outside, any which way, up as close to the vehicle in front as possible. Anyway I had Zen-like calm which I maintained even after the taxi dropped us off 35 k short of the park and outside a guest house straight out of Rocky horror. Rocky horror lodge wasn't cheap either.

If I'd managed to write this a couple of days ago I would have entitled it 'rooms with character'. Beware rooms with character, or any Lonely Planet descriptions that include the words 'authentic', 'homely' and sociable. Read distressed paintwork, peeling lino, hairy brown blankets and towels, if there are any, that have serviced a thousand sweaty backpackers..

our lodge in Chaing Mai had character as well. Jenks' choice obviously. I was double dosing on antihistemines as soon as I walked thru the door.

now I'm in the hammock at Pai. Have found a truly delightful place, little bungalows set round a fresh water swimming pond, nestling in the mountains. The rooms fabulous. Pai is a small town that used to be on the hippy trail. I wonder if John came to places like this. Some of the older travellers have stayed opened bars, restaurants and guest houses. the place is seriously relaxed; it is at last the place to hang out in bars and cafes and watch the world.

We are starting to feel less like tourists and more like travellers. When we set off from Wales each with a backpack and carry-on we wondered how on earth we could live out of these for seven months. Now we wonder how come we have so much junk in our bags. A few days here and then we take the speed boat to Laos,our first crossing of the border.

enough for now..... Jenks is also keeping a daily diary of all the places we've been and people met, and as far as I can tell details of every meal we've eaten. More follows

Much love

Magz