Good Evening, Vietnam

After we'd accomplished 'Tubing Mission: Round Two' we toyed with the idea of doing something else that we'd decided was out of our budgets on our previous visit to Vang Vieng - a hot air balloon ride! At around £40 for an hour's flight it's the cheapest place in the world to do it however that's a lot of money considering I'm on a budget of around £15 a day; we decided that we'd justify the spend by trying to skip meals here and there for a few weeks plus at this point I gave up buying bottled water and instead opted for luke warm Asian tap water dun dun duuuuun.......don't worry, I've been drinking it for a few weeks now and I'm not dead yet - wahoo! Thank you, India for my stomach of STEEL. So yes, we talked ourselves into the hot air balloon ride at sunset over the magnificent Laos landscape of rivers, rice fields, villages and jagged, sharply protruding mountains. Stunning. The flight took off with us three and five strangers just as the sun was setting, casting amber-trimmed shadows across the vast rural land. At one point we went so low - almost touching the tips of trees - that we were concerned there was something wrong however the pilot couldn't explain as he didn't speak any English so, in between screams, we all promptly whipped out our iPhones to video what could have potentially been our demise so that future YouTubers could watch in delighted horror. Thankfully we were ok in the end (otherwise I wouldn't be writing this) and we landed safely albeit none the wiser as to what had happened (sorry YouTubers).

We watched the balloons being set up.

The breathtaking view of the sunset from a very unique angle!

Bird's eye view of the river we'd been tubing in.

It was more adrenaline-inducing than I'd expected (yay!) as there was only a thin floor between us and nothingness!

The balloon ride was our 'going away' party for Victorine, our crazy Dutch travel buddy for the last month, as she was Myanmar bound before returning to her home; when I came travelling I thought the only goodbyes I'd have to deal with were those involving my pretty excellent family and friends in England however what I didn't expect was to find it so hard to part with those special people I've met along the way that have truly made my trip so spectacular. After meeting for the first time in Thailand in November and then rejoining in the south of Laos for a month of ridiculous fun, Evie and I were so sad to say goodbye to Vic but it was time for us to go to Vietnam. All over South East Asia we'd heard rumours about the notoriously hideous bus journey from Loas to Hanoi in Vietnam so it's safe to say we were dreading it like an Asian dreads western toilets (and that's A LOT, tell tale clues of this are muddy footprints on the toilet seat...). Ready for hell we boarded the sleeper bus that we'd been promised would be proper lay down beds - we even payed extra for it - but it turned out to be sleeper chairs that only come in Asian sizes i.e. nowhere near big enough for us cumbersome westerners. A bad start. As we drove out of the bus station - aka pandemonium central - we gratefully realised that the bus was only half full, got talking to some Ozzies and other fellow English people and all promptly commandeered the upper level of sleeper chairs meaning we had room to watch movies, play UNO and chat. Yes, the bus broke down about five times, yes, it took 37 hours instead of 19, yes, we all had to get out half asleep at 4am because a lorry had jackknifed across the road and yes, I chipped a tooth on stale road-cafe peanut brittle however the journey really wasn't as bad as it was fabled to be, mainly because of the extra space and the company. Asian buses don't tend to have toilets so they stop regularly and on one of these stops we realised the cargo hold was full of bags of live piglets which the Laos men were kicking and dragging around; I despise seeing this sort of thing, however usual it is around here. I've found that there's a fine line between respecting the culture of the country you're travelling in and standing idly by whilst unnecessary cruelty takes place and I ask myself - at what point does one step in?

There was just enough time for a farewell face-paint.

It's not a legit Vietnamese bus if it doesn't have disco lights.

One of the small pigs stuffed inside a sack, it was squealing and screaming, I didn't know what to do!

The bus couldn't drive through the roadside ditch to pass the jackknifed lorry with us inside so we stumbled out like zombies and hung around in the road for ages.

We arrived in Vietnam very late the next evening at the 'bus depo', which was actually a deserted patch of dirt behind someone's house, and waited for a taxi. We were trying to negotiate a price for the cab but the driver didn't speak any English - at that moment a man with rolled up carpets slung over his shoulder emerged out of the darkness and got involved in the negotiation, he babbled away to the driver and then got 350,000 Vietnamese Dong (£10) in notes out of his wallet to represent how much we had to pay for the journey to our hostel (showing the notes is a common way to handle the language barrier when paying for things). We haggled them down and they eventually agreed to 250,000 Dong so we followed the driver into the taxi but were stopped by the man with the carpets who was demanding the money from us?! We were extremely confused but....it turned out that, unbeknownst to us, we had actually been 'buying' carpets and not the taxi!!! Choking on our own laughter we politely declined and got into what we then found out was a strictly metered taxi anyway! FYI the taxi turned out to be a lot cheaper than the carpet!! Asia travel...enough said.

Right on Trek

The long, bumpy and winding road to Luang Probang further north of Laos finally ended and Evie, Vic and I traipsed around trying to find room. Everywhere was fully booked so when we finally found somewhere it was a dingy hole with grimy paper-thin walls and no glass in the windows that not only led outside but into an adjoining room; that night we laid in bed listening to an hour long drunken conversation between the residents of our neighbouring room - it would have been interesting if it wasn't all in French. Early the next morning we left for a two day trek through the local villages, fields and mountains of the northern Laos countryside. Exhausted and starving we arrived in a small bamboo village, belonging to the Kmhu ethic group, in the foothills and as we waited for our food to be cooked by the locals we were taken on a tour of the village; they are completely self sufficient and we saw whole families mucking in with the farm work and we even helped some young girls collect some of their sticky rice crop that had been drying on a tarpaulin. The children took a particular interest in us and were excited to show us all their tricks such as jumping off the tables and in return we gave them some of our dinner which they wolfed down.

Thankfully we had our pointy hats as the sun was fierce. We wanted to fit in with the locals who we'd see squatting in the fields working.

This man was crafting incredibly professional chopsticks out of bamboo, each one taking only a few minutes.

This is the Kmhu village, some houses were surrounded by a thick 'fence' of cacti and all had dogs, chickens and children running around them.

This young girl had her baby sister firmly planted on her hip all afternoon and evening, the little one was fascinated with us and wouldn't let go of my finger.

They spoke no English and we didn't know much of their version of the Laos language but a heart is an international symbol!

Laos gets extremely cold in the evenings and that night was made even worse by the fact that we were sleeping on very thin mattresses on the floor of a bamboo hut on stilts (we also saw a rat right next our bed). We left at the crack of dawn and trekked through the jungle to the most stunning waterfall I have ever seen; we waded through the shallow top where the stone in the ground had been shaped in never ending ripples and the trees were growing through the water. At the bottom we jumped off a tree into the turquoise abyss feeling slightly guilty that we were contaminating the crystal clear water with our sweaty-trekky-can't remember our last shower-bodies!

The north Laos countryside.

Top of the waterfall.

Magical!

Just chilling under the waterfall!

Underwater tree root.

We walked through a sanctuary full of bears that have been rescued from their captors that cruelly cage them to harvest their bile for questionable Chinese fertility medicine.

Real travelling - mission accomplished. After a night of violently shivering next to a rat - maybe too much real travelling...? With this is mind we decided last minute to go back down south for a cheeky extra tubing session - the allure of floating down the Mekong to be dragged up the river banks to bars was just too much so as soon as we finished the trek we got straight on a night bus to touristy Vang Vieng. We arrived at 3am and kipped in a freezing seating area in the hostel surrounded by half finished rum and cokes, soggy playing cards and overflowing ash trays - a regular occurrence and quite an accomplishment for me considering that before I came travelling I was the fussiest sleeper alive!

Tubing!!! 

Bars surrounded by mountains: perfect!

A girl requested that I knight her.

Dog in a night club. Standard.

Time for Some 'Real Travelling' Again

As the title suggests we wanted to get away from the drinking and partying once more and find somewhere quiet to experience Laos culture. We'd heard of a homestay guesthouse in a tiny village and when I called them we were told that if we got on the back of a truck at the bus station then it would, "probably take us somewhere near to where we wanted to go". Specific....! No journey in Laos is complete without sharing the ride with piles of rice bags, lots of dust, people hanging precariously out the back and at least one live chicken. We tumbled out of the truck two hours later at an intersection and walked for two miles in the raging heat with our heavy backpacks until a local construction worker let us ride in the back of his pick-up truck after we'd begged him to help us. The guesthouse was a large wooden hut on stilts at the side of a river full of buffalo with hammocks and a communal area in the family's house next door. The owner showed us around an isolated village nearby that was only accessible by sliding across a long, narrow, rickety bridge - they were completely self sufficient and living in bamboo huts surrounded by the most picturesque country side.

Nola guesthouse in....the middle of nowhere.

This is one of the houses in the isolated local village - each home has their own cow and chickens. The woman spend their days in groups under the stilted building doing chores.

We picked juicy, sweet star fruit and ate them under the tree - something so usual to the villagers but such a novelty for us.

Local children in front of their school where we were told they often share lessons with a random cow...!

We'd wanted to get some peace and quiet however part of the guesthouse was under construction so the idyllic image we'd had of snoozing on a hammock all day was somewhat ruined by the incessant noise of machinery. We also saw a giant rat in our room and had to sleep on what felt like a plank of wood in a freezer so needless to say we were keen to move on in the morning. Our English speaking hosts were out when we wanted to leave so we had great difficulty trying to explain to the family that we needed to get out of the village; we mimed and pointed whilst standing in the road with our backpacks dripping with sweat - we must have looked quite a spectacle to the villagers - but we were met with giggles and shrugs so we decided to hitchhike to the intersection where a lady sold us a bus ticket to a town further north of Laos which she flagged down two minutes later by putting a ratty piece of cardboard on a plastic chair in the road. We got on the bus and slithered into the three last tiny seats - how did she know there were spaces left?

Village kids playing.

We were cooked traditional Laos food which always includes very sticky rice and we ate it with the host family and some travellers who had also wanted to get away from it all.

Hitchhiking through the Laos countryside in a pick up truck. Including mandatory live chicken in the back of course.

The bus broke down several times and took a lot longer than we anticipated...this no longer surprises or annoys me as I am so used to it!

Tubing: The Urban Legend

Once we had our Vietnam visas we were able to continue moving towards the north of Laos; we arrived by bus in Vang Vieng which is renowned for being a party town and infamous worldwide for its tubing antics! The small town is flanked by mountains that jut out of the banks of the Mekong river which snakes between them. As soon as we arrived we were told by the people running our hostel where to go for free drinks. I'm sorry, did I hear that right...free drinks?! Yes - no catch, no entry fee, simply free drinks for a hour at Sakura bar and then on to Kangaroo bar for another hour of the same. The next five days continued in this fashion interspersed with days lounging around in one of the many restaurants that constantly played Friends back to back (I can't explain how nice it is to watch familiar TV after travelling for six months). Evie had her birthday whilst we were in Vang Vieng so we went zip lining between giant trees in the jungle.

Beer pong.

Zip lining.

Who said boys were messier? Our room got so disgusting we affectionately called it 'The Crack Den'.

We had a Birthday cake made!

We made a tree into a necklace/limbo stick.

We couldn't come to Vang Vieng without going tubing. All throughout S.E. Asia we'd been hearing crazy stories about tubing from other travellers and it'd started to seem like merely an urban legend. It has changed a lot over the past few years as many people have died, including eight Australians in a short space of time, and the Australian government put pressure on the Laos government to calm it down so what used to be thirty bars down the sides of the river is now reduced to under ten and they are forced to open on alternate days. Nonetheless tubing was mental. I can definitely see how people have died doing it! You start by coasting down the Mekong in a giant rubber inner tube from a tire until you reach the bars on the riverbank where you then get pulled in by a string that's thrown out to you and dragged up the bank to the various bars. Everyone had their cash stuffed into little waterproof wallets and some, like us, had bottles of their own pre-mixed whiskey and Sprite for the 'journey' in between bars despite cheap-ish drinks being readily available at every stop. I wrestled my friends above a pit of water, had a carrot grated on my head by an Australian dressed as a rabbit, lifted a Korean clown, danced on a speaker, got lost down the river after dark, got stranded on a riverbank and almost capsized in the boat back to the town...

Our group got bigger as we collected some girls during our time in Vang Vieng.

Cruising down the river between the mountains. 

Self explanatory?

There's a rush to grab the tubes when you leave because you lose your deposit if you don't return with a tube and people tend to steal them if they've lost theirs.

Amazing day!!

Many people that had been in the tubing capital of the world longer than us kept telling us that the £1 a litre Lao whiskey was poisoning them and we laughed it off thinking they'd just partied too hard for too long - after five consecutive nights we started to know what they meant and we were definitely worn out and ready to leave Vang Vieng to do some 'real travelling' again!

Who Said Vientiane is Boring?

We arrived in Vientiane, the capital city of Laos, half dead in the early hours of the morning and headed straight for a backpackers hostel; unfortunately, because it was an eighteen bed dorm, we couldn't get much rest because our roommates (and I'm using the term 'mates' loosely) were chatting and stamping around like excited elephants so we asked to be moved into a smaller room the next night. We'd heard there wasn't much to do in the city as it's probably the smallest (and quietest, cleanest and calmest) capital city in the world however we needed to visit the Vietnamese embassy and wait for our Vietnam visa to be processed (most visas you can get on arrival to a country but some like Vietnam, India and Myanmar have to be arranged beforehand). The Mekong River runs down the side of the tiny city and every evening at sunset the promenade alongside the water comes alive with a night market, large groups of open-air aerobics, men on bicycles selling ice creams and mobile pedicure ladies gesturing towards our gnarly travellers' feet in the hope of embarrassing us enough to make a sale.

We danced alongside the evening aerobics. 

Sunset.

We sampled street food such as pork dumplings and little doughnut balls, all a whopping 1000 Kip each (about 8 pence).

We were often approached by students asking us to complete a survey about tourism and take photos with them

For a capital city the night life is surprisingly timid. All bars close at 12am and there is only one questionable club which we tried out.

We found a singing cash machine and some fun ladyboy street-walkers to entertain ourselves one night after the bars had closed.

The city can easily be cycled around and, despite being freaked out whilst cycling along the major roads, we visited the COPE centre; this free visitor centre was set up to educate people about unexploded landmines left scattered around Laos after the Vietnam war. Sometimes these 'bombies' can be walked over by accident and also sometimes Lao children and adults collect scrap metal to sell for the equivalent of pennies, perhaps to support their families, and some of these bits of 'metal' are dormant cluster bombs that explode killing thousands a year and leaving many others with missing limbs. The COPE charity supports the victims and helps rehabilitate the injured with prosthetic limbs and the stories of the victims who have been helped to recover were fascinating.

There was a display of makeshift prosthetics including some made by villagers using metal from the very landmines that had injured them.

Loas was colonised by the French until 1953 and this is reflected in the architecture for example this Arc Du Triomphe replica

Another sunset (eyeroll...).

Vientiane had Indian food that was very similar to what I had in India so I was in heaven! This was a chicken murpatha - yummers!

Money saving tip no. 527: make crisp sandwiches at the Laos national swimming pool.

Writing my blog for all my fans on Vientiane promenade.