Love on the Mekong

Kate — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 17:44:25 +0000

It was 10 am and I’d just had an egg sandwich. Someone passed me a bottle of Beer Laos. I manhandled my backpack onto my shoulders, took a few short steps to the waters edge where the slow boat was waiting, and promptly fell over into the filthy mud, beer in hand. So began my love affair with the mighty Mekong River.

Running for almost five thousand kilometers I’ve seen that River almost everyday since, and I’ve probably swallowed a few litres of the filth too. Our two-day boat ride took us to Luang Probang where we got involved with some serious waterfall jumping, and watched monks in safron robes collecting alms in exchange for blessings at 5am. Very cultural me thinks.

After all that Lonely Planet stuff we thought we’d try something no-one else has ever heard of. We went tubing. Only joking, this may be the single most talked about activity on the entire SE Asia backpacker trail. But like the Full Moon Party you can’t knock it til you’ve tried it. So we donned our compulsory ‘Beer Laos’ T-shirts and headed to the Mekong where we swung from rope swings, zipped down zip lines, and slid down slides. As you do. Didn’t actually fancy paying for an inner tube so stuck with good old fashioned swimming to get me between bars but had a blast anyway. Although I will take this opportunity to point that no matter how much whisky you’ve drunk it is NEVER a good idea to attempt a mid-air “Brucey” from a 20 foot swing.

For those of you not familair with the Brucey here’s an activity for you. Try it your self. Stand up, put your left arm forward and place your clenched fist to your forehead, a la ‘The Thinker’. Now take you right hand and place it on your back in a ‘I’m a little tea pot’ manner. And there you have it, the Brucey. Do not attempt while falling from a great height. I honest to God almost put my arm out of its socket. You have a lot to answer for Mr Forsythe. But plenty of fun, and if I’m honest I’d do it again.

After a day of recovery we braved a ‘VIP’ bus to Vientiane. In this instance VIP does not stand for very important person but very inconvenient position, as seats are designed for midgets and air conditioning comes in the form of hastily opened windows that allow a slight draft. Sweaty much? But it got us to the capital. Although Vientiane doesn’t hold much appeal with a small gang of mates and some rented motorbikes you can have at least one day of fun. Herbal Sauna…get in! One hour massage for a dollar, yes please; big park full of Budhas and Co. why the hell not? And all while wondering whether I could crush my friend with my thighs as I sit on the back of the bike. Seriously I reckon I could break a rib given half a chance. All kinds of fun I tell thee.

So that was Laos in a nutshell. But there was also some low rider style cycling to Khmer era ruins in Champasak, a night bus with beds designed for teeny tiny people, a seemingly drunk tuk tuk driver who honestly almost fell asleep at the wheel and had to be screamed at (don’t know how we survived that one). Four Thousand Islands in the South (not to be confused with the salad dressing) offered hammocks and happy shakes (a very bad idea; laughed until I cried then lost the ability to form sentances, freaked out and had to go to sleep, never again). And so to Cambodia.

Images courtesy of Kate

Miscommunication and injury

Kate — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 21:09:07 +0000

Can I interest you in some sheese, shoup, or perhaps some ships? In fact, perhaps you like the fried chicken lag and scrambled bread, with a side of meat mould or maybe the anger stew? That’s right folks, we’re in Asia where menus have evolved to a higher level.

Street kids climb you as if you were a tree, your anti-malaria tablets will give you dreams worthy of an acid trip (Lego man hands anyone?) and you will constantly be accosted to buy a book, a bracelet, a ride in a tuk tuk, some drugs; maybe you’d like a prostitute, or to see a shocking sex show…no? really, are you sure? Perhaps I should ask you an additional twenty times just in case you change your mind.

But these things are mere trifles in comparison to the many varied opportunities for serious injury that come your way. Crossing the road is a logistical nightmare, involving rather a lot of running, jumping and praying for your life. You are actively encouraged to get drunk and fling yourself from 20 foot rope swings into a raging river whilst an eight year old lifegaurd watches over you.

And what with spider bites, drunken taxi drivers, blood banks, allergic reactions, near dislocated shoulders and ill advised Tomb Raider army rolls inside crumbling temples I’m lucky to still be standing. Breathe parental structure, I’m ok…just, and frankly I brought most of it on myself. But before I go on, are you quite sure you wouldn’t like a ride in this tuk tuk?

When I left you I was bound for Thailand’s infamous Koh Phangang in search of my soul amid a mass of vodka saturated, glow in the dark backpackers. And guess what?! I actually found myself, who needs culture, it turns out that all I really needed was a plastic bucket full of whiskey, dirty dirty house music and a flaming skipping rope. I’m found.

To think I wasted all this time getting cultural and trying to get off the beaten track, I’ve wasted my life. Jokes aside, there was plenty of banter, I mean who can really complain about a four thousand strong rave on a tropical beach, but I must admit that I after watching the sun come up through bleary eyes I was happy to get myself off to more far flung corners.

Loco2 low carbon travel » luang probang

Love on the Mekong

Images courtesy of Kate

Miscommunication and injury

Photos courtesy of Dominique Claessens and Kate