"Halls menthe-lyptus -- with vapor action"

We hardballed it and took the local bus from the Laos capital, Vientiane, to the legendary backpacker hangout, Vang Vieng about 200km to the north. The hand-crocheted window coverings were nice, as were the fans on the ceiling if they only worked. So, the bus' movement was our only moving breeze. Vang Vieng was a pleasant, beautiful place set against the limestone mountains, but it was also packed to the brim with the most Westerners we'd seen here. It also had all these creature comforts like looped episodes of "Friends" playing on restaurant/bar TV's, with 'comfort food' meaning your choice of either horrific Italian or nuclear-blasted burgers. We did the classic tubing on the Nam Song, where you float down the river in a tractor-tire innertube passing river-side bars, trance music, and zip lines catapulting you back into the water. We also visited a couple of caves. One where we followed a few others toward the back and onto a small precipice. But they started to walk away and for the life of us, we couldn't figure out how to get down. Realizing our flashlight was fading and the prospect of no others coming that day being very real, Andy shouted a few times, louder each time, to get a light -- and a couple of kind souls obliged. We followed them out in the otherwise pitch darkness. Our flashlight was almost dead.

The next day we began somewhat of another moto bike odyssey. The trip north on Rte. 13, then turning east onto Rte. 7 and then to Phonsavan (POHN-SA-VAH) and the infamous "Plain of Jars." The problem is that the routes go through a lot of mountainous terrain and have somewhat of a troubled history with Hmong Guerrilas, an insurgent group that launched rare and sporadic attacks on locals and tourists alike up until April 2006. All the advisories at the time we checked with before going, the State Department sites for the U.S. and Australia (including conversations with locals) all indicated that everything was ok, but we still wanted to check. We also wanted to drive ourselves because we had heard there were no moto rentals in Phonsavan, and we were tired of being shackled to the typical, well-trodden tourist buses and routes.

It wasn't a good omen, when 30km into the trip we started hearing small rattling/grinding noises from the engine when accelarating on turns but at the time chalked it up to previous bad spedometers, headlights and gas gauges we had gotten on other bikes. We were stopped at our first checkpoint on the way up the first mountain pass. The Lao police at first seemed genuinely confused by our presence at first, where we were going, coming from, how we got the moto bike, where's your international drivers' license etc. (which we had accidentally left in our packs at the guesthouse.) Luckily, they seemed satisfied with our rental card and Andy's NY State driving license and sent us through after asking when we'd be back. At this point we were in a hot zone, but still saw a few Western bikers going the opposite way. One couple was on a bicycle built for two.

Then came the 130+ km jaunt through mountainous Rte. 7 and the other trouble spot for the first 50km. Everything seemed to be going ok as we climbed higher and higher, then we pass through this village and see a truckload of armed men in camouflauge sitting on the road. We buzz quietly by, not attracting too much attention and that was it. We still couldn't figure out if they were the guerrillas, or from the Lao government, but we didn't care we just kept going. Our hearts sunk a little even more as a few miles more we saw two more lone patroling gunmen walking on the highway. An hour later though we crossed into the next province, Xieng Khuang and were relieved immensely as we knew this was safer territory. The only thing we had to battle now was the cold. We hadn't really eaten that much and were kind of going on adrenaline for a while, So Sarah pulls out two Halls 'menthalyptus' lozenges, and at that moment, the sugar and soothingness of the 'vapor action' did wonders to lift our spirits. We even started to head out of the mountains and into the plains now which the landscape which, we commented, bore an uncanny resemblence to both Calgary and Memphis. The dried, brown grass and bare trees over rolling plains looked exactly like Shelby Farms.

At 3:45pm, 7 hours after leaving, we arrived in Phonsavan, got a hotel and food, thankful to be there and excited about the next day. "The Plain of Jars" is a somewhat enigmatic site as no one knows for sure the purpose of them. Local legend has it that a king friendly to the people won a battle for them and had them made, cast in a kiln, to ferment rice wine in to celebrate his victory for them. The only problem is they are completely dug out of boulders, the largest weighing six tons, too heavy to take back and forth to a kiln. Much more likely is that they were dug out of existing boulders (other boulder field finds with half-made jars have borne this theory out) and that they were perhaps used more for funerary rites and storing of ashes, bones, etc. Either way it was quite surreal to wander through all three sites, each with about 100 jars, some broken, some on their side, and some still in tact with their giant accompanying stone lids.

The next morning didn't bode well for our return trip. Thick fog was all around and the bike wouldn't start. Only because genius Andy didn't try the choke. We decided to give the sun a shot to burn off the fog, but it seemed like as we were leaving, it was only getting worse. At the same time, there was a guy with a rifle (that didn't look like it was used to hunt animals) on his back in the beginning. And this was supposed to be the safe province! After a half hour or so, though, everything started to clear up and we even got blue sky. The weather even started to be beautiful and we were thinking about "the only thing to fear is fear itself" quote. That's when our chain slipped off (thus the noise in the engine growing worse). We put it back on and kept going, now through the hot zone, but the weather was so good we were really starting to enjoy it. Then, we turned the corner. TWO trucks of armed men blocking the road with a small space in the middle, looking at something on the side. We both said, "I don't know if it's government or not, just keep going." Without so much as a blink, Andy guns it right through the middle. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah could just see muted to empty stares on their faces. Once, around the next corner, Andy buzzed it through village after village, trying to get to the junction town of Rte. 13, Muang Phu Khoun as quickly as possible, just to be on the safe side. Then the stupid chain goes out again! We stop, get off and start fixing it and hear a car coming around the corner literally twenty seconds later. Our hearts sank as it was none other than the armed guard truck rounding the bend. We hoped they wouldn't stop to 'help' us. But they actually just kept going and were actually kind of rowdy and good-natured, saying what Sarah thought was "Beer Lao" to us and laughing. Maybe they were just the government troops. But we didn't care to stick around. Just as we got the chain on, the SECOND armed guard truck comes behind us around the corner. The timing was especially eerie because at the speed we were going, they would have had to have immediately jumped into their trucks after seeing us and sped off. We decided to slow down at the next village and discreetly let them pass us, which they did. Then, giving them time to get ahead, we keep going slowly. Up the next hill, our chain goes out again. Okay, now we're starting to get mad! We fix it and the rest of the way, just nurse the gears and cruise through village after village and make it to the junction town, take a breath, have a couple of coffees and soup, and start up our last mountain pass heading south on Rte. 13. Just when we thought this portion would be as uneventful as it was coming the other way, we see a true guerrilla in camouflage with an AK-47 standing on the side of the road! We don't even look as we motor by him, but our hearts did skip a beat when, as we passed, he whistled two times to someone on the ridge. Andy pulled the clutch to avoid the chain problem and roared down the mountain, luckily a steep grade for the next 5 km. We made it to the bottom and out of the hot zone. The chain went out a couple of times more but it was okay. We almost made it to Kasi before our tire blew out (the result of a patch we had put on in Phonsavan when our tire blew there); luckily there was a repair place a couple of km away. Even more lucky that it wasn't a half hour earlier when we were on top of the mountain next to nothing!

Over the next 2 hours, though, we were rewarded with a perfect setting. Great weather, unrivaled scenery of tropical landscapes against limestone peaks and magnificent fading sunlight. Sure our chain went out again a couple of times, but we were home free. This time, we didn't even need a Halls.

The next week, we recouped in Luang Prabang, a lovely, but heavily touristed city 160km north of Vang Vieng, and are now making plans for entry into Thailand. Thanks to all who are reading, responding, or just plain enjoying. Stay tuned. Hope to add pictures soon.

"I no hassle you. I promise."

We took the "Mekong Express" bus to Phnom Penh then on to Siam Reap. It was an all-day affair but one made more comfortable in that this bus had air-con and a bathroom. We were told the touts at Siem Reap were laid back due to their more 'provincial upbringing.' Ha! As soon as we stopped, it was the closest thing to being a rock star without having a stalker and death threats. Well, a couple were like stalkers as they followed us almost the whole way to the hotel. We broke through the impenatrable wall of shouting and people holding signs reading, "I no hassle you. I promise" and walked towards our hotel.



Siem Reap is the main place people go to when they go to Cambodia as it's all about Angkor Wat and the ruins. Built in the 11-13th centuries, the ruins are less impressive for their age than they are for their craftsmanship and scale -- some believe Angkor Wat temple is the largest religious structure on earth and the rest of the colossal ruins stretch over a swath of land that covers nearly half the country. It would be an unfathomable achievement if it hadn't been done. And, at the time, it taxed the empire's finances and labor so greatly, it arguably contributed to its demise.

The first two days we visited most of the major sites by bicycle, and were pretty exhausted by even the end of the first day. The next day we wanted to tour some of the less visited sites and so took a magnificent little 'jaunt' through the dirt backroads to the Rolous Group of Temples and the Bakong. From there, it was an exhausting 16km ride on dirt roads through middle-of-the-day heat to Phnom Bok (PHNOM-BOW) which climbed (as did we) 200 meters high. At the top, the temple was complete with rusting artillery cannons left over from the Khmer Rouge sitting on the north and south corners. (The Khmers were also involved with the Bauphon, which had meticulously been taken apart by the French for restoration, but the plans were destroyed during the regime, leaving only a giant jigsaw puzzle of sandstone).
And we did the old standbys, Ta Prohm - the temple swallowed by the jungle and left 'in tact' with 100 year old trees still alive and well, having dislodged giant stones and now towering 100 feet above; The Bayon -- which in addition to boring reliefs of war and conquest, had amazing scenes offering glimpses into everyday life, including women picking lice from each others' hair and circuses, complete with tightrope walkers and a strong man lifting three dwarfs (or little people as they might have been called back then). And of course there was Angkor Wat, with its 'ungodly' size and epic bas reliefs of its own, including our favorite, "The Churning of the Ocean of Milk" -- which sounds disgusting but was really an important legend of good versus evil as demons battled in a tug of war, pulling a giant serpent back and forth inside the ocean in order to extract its elixir of immortality. The gods won because the demons couldn't resist the heavenly female nymphs floating above. Ahhhhh....


Ta Som, Preah Neak Pean, The Bakong, Banteay Samre are just a few of the others, which we think, in the end, totalled like 30 temples we were able to see in 3 days. Sounds boring right? To be honest, even we didn't know what to think after seeing everything (and we had still only scratched the surface). But we did know we left Siam Reap with feelings of deep respect and privilidge for something that was as close to greatness as it gets. 

We decided to not tour Eastern Cambodia and go straight to Laos -- which meant taking a flight (which doesn't count on our "Teak Fellowship" mile total). Sarah was getting sick and we'd also save three valuable days. Plus, we didn't exactly relish taking a tough overland route again, especially through Phnom Penh! So we landed in Pakse, in the southwest of Laos (pronounced in the singular 'LAO' we were told). While Sarah was getting over some crazy bronchial infection and taking anti-biotics we've have yet to use ever since we left 8 months ago, (CIPRO), we decided a perfect remedy would be a 4-day, dusty, backroad route through remote parts of south and eastern Laos via moto-bike! It wasn't all what you'd think. The first two days, we stayed in a bungalow overlooking (and overhearing!) a big, soothing waterfall right below us at Tad Lo. Sarah had the best sleep of her life.

The next day, we rode the 67 year-old female elephant, "Moon." (life span we were told was about 150 years for an Asian Elephant). Laos' original name was Lang Xang, Land of a "Million Elephants" which are these days down to a couple of thousand -- some working elephants still on the farms and some wild. Moon ate about 200 kilos of leaves a day and took a bath in the river. After this wonderful experience, Sarah was seriously considering giving up art and design to be an elephant trainer.

Then it was off to Sekong, where we tried to get gas from the station but the power was out in the whole city and the pumps wouldn't work, so we had to settle for roadside assistance -- Fanta or Mirinda bottles full of red liquid gasoline sitting on little shelves. Andy almost mistakenly bought one to drink!

Somehow we made the 32km detour on dirt road to see the angelic waterfall "Nam Toc Katamtoc" in the Bolaven Plateau, turned around, and screamed toward Attapeu, trying to make it before dark. There's not much to see in Attapeu, it's pretty desolate. As was Pa-am, save for a giant, aging Russian Surface-to-Air Missle sitting on the old Ho Chi Minh trail we had to wade across a river to see. And, plus, the people in the village really didn't really like us or want us there. No love. . . no love. Although two guys nearby sympathized with Sarah when she fell right through a bridge of poor construction and banged her knee and ripped the knee out of her one pair of jeans. They tried to help Andy help her up and talked and waved their arms as if to say, "Ah, this bridge... they can't ever make anything right," and started to readjust the planks of wood over the gaping holes.

At that point, we left screaming on a backtrack all the way north and west, this time to the coffee-growing town on top of the Bolaven Plateau (with drastically dropping temperatures to match) named Paksong, and the little waterfall town of Tad Fane, with a not-so-little waterfall. Again, we arrived just in time before dark. The waterfall was spectacular and much easier to get to than "Nam Toc Katamtoc," which we never would have found anyway were it not for a kind family in the hills.

The next day, after eating an entire Papaya that the girl cut up for us on the spot, we made it back to Pakse, and decided we'd come this far, why not just go ahead and go up to Vientiane tonight? There was an overnight bus, they call "VIP: The Big Bus" and it didn't disappoint. At 8:30 pm, an absolute monstrosity pulled around the corner straight out of "Tron." An entire double-decker warmly bathed in the soothing aura of neon and black-light --- even the engine was lit up when they opened the flap.

Luckily the Karaoke on the flat screens inside (and inside the driver's cabin) ended at a reasonable hour, but it was as cold as the dickens and the seat space was about 20 per cent vertical and 80 per cent horizontal. Just plain strange! We were on the lower level. You had to duck your head all the way to the restroom on board and there were about 30 people above us.

But we made it to Vientiane in a hurry at 6am, sunrise. After a couple of days of Sarah recovering as best she can (she may even be perfecting how to spit!), we plan to go up to Vang Vien, then Luang Prabang, and then across the Thai border. Should we go to the 'Plain of Jars?' Thanks for all the replies. It's good to hear from everyone in these strange, strange times of continual upheaval combined with exhilirating delight, which seem to be our only constants.

A letter from home

Our thoughts always go back to our trip to Vietnam. I tell people we could never have imagined how amazing the trip was to be. I still see your faces smiling at Hanoi airport. Who would have thought we would be reunited in such a distant place. One day soon I will write about our adventures. I feel privileged that we were able to experience the Vietnamese culture so closely. Andy's Vietnamese certainly helped us - who would have known green dragon fruit is the best. Remember the delicious grilled fish dishes - wrapped in leaves - cilantro - morning glory greens - those wonderful local dishes on the waterfront in Hoi An. People shouting "hello" as we cycled through the rice paddies. The silhouette of the children, fisherman walking along the dyke when we were on our tour of the floating city with the hills protruding like a landscape from another planet behind them. The old lady almost bowing gesturing to us to join her in the church, such a spiritual event.
Following Andy on bikes for the first time in over ten years as we cycled out of Ninh Binh into the countryside. Stopping for that oh so wonderful icecream or bottle of water. Feeling warm all the time. Being able to carry your possessions on your back. Riding the bus with the locals through little villages with the factories that will change their life forever looming up. The challenges of travelling when things do not quite go as you planned but it is fine because actually things work out better than you expected. Traveling by overnight bus and train comfortably - Dad has since said he has always wanted to go by overnight train although he thinks he prefers the bus because you see more of the countryside - if it is a comfortable bus that is. Travelling with our daughter and son-in-law - as family and best friends. Knowing that there are difficult times at times when we all have opinions but making that turn around to making things successful. Accepting that being bothered by touts is a game we must play - not a Western culture event but very much part of most of the rest of the world as you have discovered. Riding on the moto-bike not done since we were very young but still the same buzz as then - bodies tight, leaning in to the bend up hill and down. Getting soaking wet but feeling warm. Shopping in the market with you, buying lovely things while the boys hung out. Wishing Sophie were there but knowing she would understand our experiences because she had been to Asia. Such images....

For you two at times things must be tough. But your experience and knowledge of these different cultures will always be with you to look back on and say we did it! Thanks for everything you did for us in Vietnam, the planning, Andy always finding water for us, the relish with which you taste and experience the cuisine and bia hoi, Sarah the kind way you relate to the people, your walking tours and on and on...

And you guys have experienced so much, so many different cultures and countries, so many stories. Now yes you can feel time slipping by but remember you still have a third of this big trip to go. I want to hear all about Laos, Thailand, India, Pakistan. And I am sure you will have adventures here in Western Canada to look forward to.

Let me know if you need more malaria pills or anything else. Take care, we are just sipping a Vietnamese coffee - quite wonderful.

Love Mom

PS Did you get to ride elephants?!