A Loop of Faith

Arriving in a small sleepy town like Thakhek, tired and grubby from the long bus ride and at 1:30am is not ideal.  For starters, Laotians are on Laos time, something same same as island time that people live by on Vancouver Island.  Everything is slower and done with far less urgency, so arriving in the middle of the night and trying to wake up someone to get a room is not such an easy task.  The Travelodge Guesthouse where we were trying to get a room claimed to be full, however I'm not sure how much truth there was in that.  I think he just couldn't be bothered to check us in after being woken up.  No matter though, he pointed us to another across the road.


Bible to the loop of faith

 The following morning we made our way over to the Travelodge again in order to get some planning done for our motorbike trip, which was the whole reason behind busing for 25 hours into the middle of nowhere.  Essentially the reason Thakhek is on the map is because of the 3-4 day motorcycle loop that starts and ends at the Travelodge.  Mr. Cu is the man when it comes to renting bikes and he sorted us out right away as well as giving us a map with all the sights on it, a number of tips and the best places to stop for the nights.  The best sources of information though were the log books that every group enters their trip into and gives a tally of highlights, breakdowns, and crashes from along the way.  Some groups must have never driven any kind of powered vehicle before let alone a motorcycle judging by the number of crashes they endured.  Fortunately, none serious just muffler burns and bumps and bruises from riding into a ditch or rice paddy.  Most entries were complete with a hand drawn map indicating where the road got significantly bad, wound up a mountain pass, or was under construction.  So, with photos of the best drawn map in the book (and most recent) we saddled up and were on our way into the late afternoon sun.  Within 20km Mike broke down.  The bike just shut off and refused to wake up again.  After pushing the bike back to a roadside shop, we made a call to Mr. Cu to let him know the situation and develop a plan of action.  He immediately got on a new bike and rode out to meet us in record time.  Our lack of understanding of combustion engines became very clear when Mr. Cu reached under the bike, slipped the spark plug housing back on, smiled at us and rode away.  I like to think that I should have thought to check that on my own, but if I was to do that then I would also have to believe that I know something about motorcycles and engines and unfortunately that would mean I would be lying to myself, and nobody likes that.  There were however, some positives that we took away from the situation: Mike got a brand new, more powerful bike (with gages that actually worked!) and I wont ever make that mistake again.  After a cold beer given to us by a group of Laotians drinking in front of their shop, we were back on the road and made it to our first stop in Vieng Kham just before dark. 

Day two was going to be a long one so we were up and at it by 7:00am after a feast of bananas and Fun-o cookies (a staple in our riding diet).  The road was straight and fast for the first while, then wound its way up to a great viewpoint looking out over the limestone mountains jutting out of the ground like a Dr. Seuss book.  I think the karst limestone landscapes that characterize so much of South East Asia (biggest of its kind in the world) is by far my favourite to look at and definitely to ride through.  It makes for some incredibly windy roads and fantastic views. 
I was running low on gas so I bought an old 1 litre bottle of Pepsi worth from a village at the bottom of the hill.  To be honest the gas looked a little suspicious, and sitting out in the sun (likely for days or weeks) definitely is not good for it, but at least it wasn't from a whiskey bottle like Thailand!

 

The highlight of the whole area is supposed to be a 10km long, water filled cave called Konglor Cave.  There is a damn good reason its rated so highly, it is amazing!  We got into the little fishtail motorboat with our two guides and within seconds were careening up stream through the blackest of darkness lead only by a small light being shone on reflectors marking the deadly outcroppings of jagged limestone.  About halfway through the mountain we stopped and climbed a little ways up the rock and with the flick of a switch found ourselves in the middle of a massive amphitheatre of stalactites, stalagmites, and pillars doused in strategically placed lights.  It was an amazing site and one that frustratingly enough, pictures just do not do justice...no matter how many I took.  Back in the boat and another 5km or so and we popped out the other side of the mountain into lush, dense jungle sweeping out over the river.  There was a small village about a 2km walk through the jungle but we opted for a quick drink, some Fun-o's and back into the boat so we would have time to make it to our next stop in Lac Xao before dark.



Drowned forest



Again we were up early and on the road looking forward to the section of road that was supposed to be awful.  And as promised by all the maps in the log books, literally 300 metres down the road everything turned to absolute shit.  Basically it went from well paved border access with Laos to single lane, dusty, muddy, who-cares-about-the-people-who-live-down-here, piece of junk trail.  I don't think I can give it the distinguished title of 'road' because that just wouldn't be fair to the rest of the roads on the loop.  After a solid three hours of dodging rocks, pot holes, logs, farm animals, and many other unidentified objects, we had covered only 36km.  This progress is nothing to write home about, but the scenery sure was.  Mountains, lush green rice paddies, dense jungle, small bustling villages, a massive drowned forest thanks to a damn nearby; we got it all in those 36km.  The road improved significantly after that point and we ended up cruising all the way back to Thakhek a day early.  We weren't done though, the plan was to keep the bikes and do a highlight tour of the sites around Thakhek which were either caves or crystal clear glacier coloured springs bubbling up pure fresh water from deep within the ground.  We opted for the appropriately named "Blue Lagoon" about 30km outside of Thakhek.  This turned out to be an absolute mission to get to thanks to 2 km stretch of trail that a 4x4 likely couldn't have made it over.  The rains had carved massive ruts and exposed jagged boulders making it exciting and fun, but difficult to drive on motos that were meant for smooth pavement cruising.  The trek was worth it though, and we were rewarded with a spectacular turquoise spring all to ourselves.  This was definitely the highlight of the loop and worth every foot put down in a muddy puddle and near spill onto sharp rocks.

That evening we jumped on a night bus heading up to Vientiane with the understanding that the only reason people go there was to get their Vietnam visa and then head off to Vang Vieng to get excessively liquored up and go tubing down a river! So, that's what I did. Vientiane didn't seem nearly as bad as it was made out to be though, if fact it actually had quite a nice feel to it.  A quiet, laid back town with nice bakeries and cafes serving good coffee, and an old French feel in the architecture and attitude of the city left over from the French ruled colonial days.  Unfortunately there was no time for that, I was on a strict timeline if I was going to cover Laos and still have time to do Vietnam by motorcycle.  Mike and I cruised over to the Vietnamese consulate to inquire about visas, and hoping the internet wasn't lying when it said we could get it done in a matter of hours...for the right price of course.  At first the officer said we could get it by the following day, but we said we were leaving that afternoon at 2:00pm and needed it now.  After a quick thought to himself he said we could get it by the following morning if we came early.  After exchanging puzzled looks we explained how today (when we were planning on catching our bus)  actually occurs before tomorrow morning no matter which way you look at it.  In all of his wisdom, he then countered with 8:00pm that night.  After a third, slower more concise explanation into the theory and practice of chronology, thus meaning we wanted our visas now, as in right now, he went into the back for the paper work and rushed us through it all ignoring most of the information like my name and nationality, and then yanked it away with barely enough time to sign the bottom, telling us to come back at 1:00pm.  This was all very odd at the time, but became very clear about 5 minutes later when the officer and his staff strolled into the restaurant we were waiting in.  It was lunch time and Vietnamese do not take overtime lightly.  So in the end $55 got us a Vietnam visa within 1 hour, which was really about 5 minutes of work and 55 minutes of eating. 
Mike was planning on heading straight to Luang Prabang so we parted ways at the bus station and I joined a group of five travellers from various parts of the UK who were on the same bus as me and we were en route to what was to be my second South East Asian paradise, but for far different reasons.

Tubing in Vang Vieng, Laos is an experience.  It is something that cannot be taken lightly, and unless you book you're transportation away prior to your first day on the river, you WILL end up staying for longer than planned.  Attempting to explain the experience in a way that will truly do it justice has left me staring blankly at the screen literally for hours.  Tubing is just one of those things that you must do in order to even begin to understand.  It makes the best day on Vancouver Island's Cowichan River look like an especially slow day of watching grass grow in the dead of winter.  It is definitely not for everyone, but for me it was paradise.
Massive rope swings that would send you flying 30 feet in the air before crashing into the water amongst a crowd floating down river, buckets of whiskey, Red Bull and coke in hand.  Slides, flying foxes, mud wrestling, mud volleyball, mud soccer; you name it, it was there, just with alcohol and mud.
A typical day would see us wake up at about 11:00am stumble out for a full English breakfast that was to last me until my 3:00am chicken bacon sandwich, buy a new pair of sunnies because you will without a doubt lose them in the river in one way or another, and then grab a tuk tuk up to the first bar.  The next five to six hours is a blur of dancing, drinking, swinging, floating, and spray painting rude words or pictures onto people with the stencils provided.  When the sun finally dips behind the mountains lining the river valley (an absolutely spectacular sight in itself), you know it is time to make you're way down river and grab a tuk tuk back into town.  This however, is after you manage to get by the tazer lady guarding the bridge.  It's a rickety old thing and must be crossed one at a time and if you jump on the bridge you will get tazed, if you swing the bridge you will get tazed, if you run on the bridge, yes, you will indeed get tazed.  In fact if you do anything but gingerly walk across the bridge in a calm and orderly fashion you will feel the wrath of the tazer lady.


Red Bull still at work

 From this point, the second half of the party starts, but this time in the many bars around town.  The night generally goes until the Red Bull wears off and you realize how hungry and tired you are.  Time for that chicken bacon sandwich and some sleep.
My strict timeline fell apart as a result of Vang Vieng.  I went for two days and ended up staying for six.  Unfortunately this meant I wasn't going to see Luang Prabang which is supposed to be a beautiful town.  But, I'd say it was worth every bucket and subsequent hangover endured. 
Next step was the 24 hour bus journey from Vientiane to Hanoi, Vietnam.  I opted to save a little cash by taking the VIP bus rather than the sleeper, half hoping they would actually give me the right bus and half knowing they wouldn't.  Sure enough, I was hustled to the back row of a decrepit old bus filled with locals and all their swag they were bringing back home to Vietnam.  The very back bench seat was stacked almost to the roof with bags so my seat was stuck at a 90 degree angle for the duration of the trip, and on top of that the guy in front of me showed no remorse whatsoever as he continually slammed his seat into my knees, shooting dirty looks at me when I bumped him.  When the first local (lying in the aisle basically at my feet) started puking on account of the windy road, I took it as my cue to climb up onto the mountain of bags in an effort to put as much distance between myself and the symphony of wretching that began.  30 hours later and hating life, I was in Hanoi.  Hands down the worst bus trip ever! Chalk that one up in the experience column. 

New country, new culture, new language.  Good morning Vietnam!