Bummer. At a recent Internet cafe a virus took out the device driver executable on my SDRAM card and I now can't upload my photos. Will work on it and hope I can recover.
And why the post title? Back in Cambodia one of the Australian girls I met was teaching the local kids some colloquial expressions. "Repeat after me", she said, "A dingo stole my baby". "A dingo stole my baby" they all chorused. I can't wait to see the expression on a passing Aussie tourist's face when the kids try that one on them!
And now a virus has stolen my ability to use my memory card - bastard virus writers!
Monday, December 17, 2007
Mekong sardines
Newsflash! In a discovery as significant as the Kratie freshwater dolphins lower down the Mekong, scientists have now found mammalian flying sardines in the upper reaches north of Luang Prabang.
The sardines fly at great speed just 500mm above the water, reaching speeds of over 50 kph at times. Articulated for compactness, the creature's thoracic segment is encased in a soft, buoyant exoskeleton, extending to a hard layer protecting a bony skull and abnormal brain. Hearing loss is significant. Blood tests show higher than average levels of cortisone and adrenaline. The gluteus maximus shows signs of depression through constant pressure, while the posterior lumbar spine shows extensive bruising through contact with sharp edged wooden objects.
Schooling together in groups of 8 or so, the sardines propel themselves above the river in an 11m long shallow draft craft powered by a four cylinder Toyota engine of approximately two litres capacity, swivelling on a pedestal at the rear of the craft. A 5m long prop shaft connected directly to the crankshaft provides prodigious thrust just below the water level, enabling the craft to successfully navigate rapids at great speed.
The craft stops at times allowing the sardines to remove their knees from their chins and engage in a vaguely human dance as they attempt to restore circulation to cramped limbs.
Strange creatures indeed.
The sardines fly at great speed just 500mm above the water, reaching speeds of over 50 kph at times. Articulated for compactness, the creature's thoracic segment is encased in a soft, buoyant exoskeleton, extending to a hard layer protecting a bony skull and abnormal brain. Hearing loss is significant. Blood tests show higher than average levels of cortisone and adrenaline. The gluteus maximus shows signs of depression through constant pressure, while the posterior lumbar spine shows extensive bruising through contact with sharp edged wooden objects.
Schooling together in groups of 8 or so, the sardines propel themselves above the river in an 11m long shallow draft craft powered by a four cylinder Toyota engine of approximately two litres capacity, swivelling on a pedestal at the rear of the craft. A 5m long prop shaft connected directly to the crankshaft provides prodigious thrust just below the water level, enabling the craft to successfully navigate rapids at great speed.
The craft stops at times allowing the sardines to remove their knees from their chins and engage in a vaguely human dance as they attempt to restore circulation to cramped limbs.
Strange creatures indeed.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Luang Prabang and the millionth elephant
The road from Vang Vieng is a biker's dream but a bus' nightmare. An endless succession of steep passes and tight curves - first gear material for most of the Lao buses. So Fi and I paid a bit extra for a minivan, which meant we left earlier and arrived an hour quicker.
Again we meet up with more fellow travellers. This time it's Eva and Paul from Melbourne (another father/daughter pairing), Shannon and Andy from Alberta, and Ama from London.
We start chatting to Ama as she's sitting beside us, and discover she's a member of England's netball team! "So what's it like marking Irene?", I ask. "Scary", says Ama, "Irene always smiles, even when she's making mistakes. Really unnerving."
On arrival we set off in search of our respective hotels, and arrange to meet up for dinner later. Fi and I find a perfectly adequate twin room with a shared bathroom for $10/night in the heart of town, and are well pleased. We'd been warned accommodation can sometimes be hard to get in LP - another advantage of taking the fast bus.
Shannon and Andy teach us a dice game over dinner. Six dice and fairly easy rules and scoring (which I think Fi's remembered!), so we'll have to buy some now.
We discuss our tour options for the following day, and agree to join forces for an all day combined elephant and kayak tour. Fi does well to get the cheapest price at $28 each.
First step is to give the elephants a bath.
Then it's onto the carriage for a half hour ride. I'm a little dubious as our elephant approaches a steep clay bank - surely it can't go up and down there? But it does with no trouble at all - despite their bulk they're surprisingly nimble and sure-footed.
They say Laos is the land of a million elephants. A bit of an overstatement now, but we figure the other 999,999 must be out there somewhere.
Fi tips our elephants with a few bananas after the ride,
and then engages in an earnest discussion with some monks. Fortunately these ones don't offer her a massage.
In to the kayaks for a three hour paddle down stream. This time Fi and I are in a double, and we enjoy the ride with a few mild rapids thrown in for interest. A couple approach Grade 2 status for a bit more excitement, but we stay in ok.
Then Fi decides to go for a swim. No probs until she gets back in to the kayak, we get a bit unstable, and over we go. Fault is still being assigned! But I enjoy my involuntary dunking, and as soon as we're back to still water recover our composure and paddle on, hoping the drybag lives up to its name.
Fortunately it does, and my camera and all our clothes are ok.
The obligatory group photo (Eva, Ama, Andy, Shannon, Fi & me - Paul didn't come) rounds off a great day, but after three hours some of the girls are feeling the strain.
Today (Sat 15th) gets off to a bad start. I'd found a hard-out mountain biking tour called the Chicken Run for half a day, and keyed everything up verbally. But when I get to the agency the guide hasn't been booked and the tour is off. Grumbling, I carry on up the road and pop in to another agency on the off chance they'll have an ad-hoc tour I can do immediately. And surprise surprise the first one I try does!
Within half an hour I'm on a Giant mountain bike with marginal components (but at least it goes) heading up beside the river I'd kayaked down the day before. I surprise my guide by actually cycling up the hills without stopping. He's taken a look at my grey hair and figured this would be a stroll, and worn jeans and jandals!
We stop at the top of a hill and join a Dutch couple who've just walked their bikes for a breather. They're feeling the strain, there being no hills to speak of in Holland. They say you only need a three-speed in Holland - one for a head wind, and one for a tail wind, and one for a cross wind. Robert - perhaps you'd better do some practise along Beach Rd before you get to Vietnam!
I try and explain to my guide what single track is, but something gets lost in the translation and we stay on gravel roads.
Our last blast back in to town takes us past a Hmong New Year festival. We're lucky - as opposed to the Vietnamese Hmong, this is the only day of the year the Lao Hmong dress up in their traditional costume.
Strange - they line up and throw balls to each other. "Just a game", says my guide.
This one stole my heart.
Back to town after lunch, a couple of big Beer Laos, and a satisfying 30km circuit. A full body workout with the kayaking yesterday and the mountain biking today. Don't seem to be losing weight though - not enough tummy bugs and too much Beer Lao.
I catch up with Fiona, who I'd left to do some shopping. She got chatting with some locals while getting her hair done, and ended up being invited to a baby birthday, and subsequently a wedding! Unfortunately one of her hosts was a bit overexuberant in filling up Fi's glass after she'd declined, and poured beer all over her lap. Unimpressed, Fi made a quick exit and we had time to do a bit of shopping in the market this afternoon.
So I am now the proud owner of a pair of elephant slippers, a "Same Same, But Different" T shirt (anyone who's been to Asia will understand), an embroidered apron, some table mats and central table strip, and a bracelet I hope matches Pauline's taste.
After some discussion with anyone we can find, we book our tickets up the Mekong to the Thai border by speed boat. Lonely Planet warns against this option as every week or so one ends up on the bottom of the river, but why take the slow boat over two days when a speed boat only takes six hours? Apparently all we need are earplugs, crash helmets, warm clothes, a wind breaker, and a sense of adventure.
The length of time it takes me to publish my next post will give you an indication as to how we got on. Fingers crossed.
Again we meet up with more fellow travellers. This time it's Eva and Paul from Melbourne (another father/daughter pairing), Shannon and Andy from Alberta, and Ama from London.
We start chatting to Ama as she's sitting beside us, and discover she's a member of England's netball team! "So what's it like marking Irene?", I ask. "Scary", says Ama, "Irene always smiles, even when she's making mistakes. Really unnerving."
On arrival we set off in search of our respective hotels, and arrange to meet up for dinner later. Fi and I find a perfectly adequate twin room with a shared bathroom for $10/night in the heart of town, and are well pleased. We'd been warned accommodation can sometimes be hard to get in LP - another advantage of taking the fast bus.
Shannon and Andy teach us a dice game over dinner. Six dice and fairly easy rules and scoring (which I think Fi's remembered!), so we'll have to buy some now.
We discuss our tour options for the following day, and agree to join forces for an all day combined elephant and kayak tour. Fi does well to get the cheapest price at $28 each.
First step is to give the elephants a bath.
Then it's onto the carriage for a half hour ride. I'm a little dubious as our elephant approaches a steep clay bank - surely it can't go up and down there? But it does with no trouble at all - despite their bulk they're surprisingly nimble and sure-footed.
They say Laos is the land of a million elephants. A bit of an overstatement now, but we figure the other 999,999 must be out there somewhere.
Fi tips our elephants with a few bananas after the ride,
and then engages in an earnest discussion with some monks. Fortunately these ones don't offer her a massage.
In to the kayaks for a three hour paddle down stream. This time Fi and I are in a double, and we enjoy the ride with a few mild rapids thrown in for interest. A couple approach Grade 2 status for a bit more excitement, but we stay in ok.
Then Fi decides to go for a swim. No probs until she gets back in to the kayak, we get a bit unstable, and over we go. Fault is still being assigned! But I enjoy my involuntary dunking, and as soon as we're back to still water recover our composure and paddle on, hoping the drybag lives up to its name.
Fortunately it does, and my camera and all our clothes are ok.
The obligatory group photo (Eva, Ama, Andy, Shannon, Fi & me - Paul didn't come) rounds off a great day, but after three hours some of the girls are feeling the strain.
Today (Sat 15th) gets off to a bad start. I'd found a hard-out mountain biking tour called the Chicken Run for half a day, and keyed everything up verbally. But when I get to the agency the guide hasn't been booked and the tour is off. Grumbling, I carry on up the road and pop in to another agency on the off chance they'll have an ad-hoc tour I can do immediately. And surprise surprise the first one I try does!
Within half an hour I'm on a Giant mountain bike with marginal components (but at least it goes) heading up beside the river I'd kayaked down the day before. I surprise my guide by actually cycling up the hills without stopping. He's taken a look at my grey hair and figured this would be a stroll, and worn jeans and jandals!
We stop at the top of a hill and join a Dutch couple who've just walked their bikes for a breather. They're feeling the strain, there being no hills to speak of in Holland. They say you only need a three-speed in Holland - one for a head wind, and one for a tail wind, and one for a cross wind. Robert - perhaps you'd better do some practise along Beach Rd before you get to Vietnam!
I try and explain to my guide what single track is, but something gets lost in the translation and we stay on gravel roads.
Our last blast back in to town takes us past a Hmong New Year festival. We're lucky - as opposed to the Vietnamese Hmong, this is the only day of the year the Lao Hmong dress up in their traditional costume.
Strange - they line up and throw balls to each other. "Just a game", says my guide.
This one stole my heart.
Back to town after lunch, a couple of big Beer Laos, and a satisfying 30km circuit. A full body workout with the kayaking yesterday and the mountain biking today. Don't seem to be losing weight though - not enough tummy bugs and too much Beer Lao.
I catch up with Fiona, who I'd left to do some shopping. She got chatting with some locals while getting her hair done, and ended up being invited to a baby birthday, and subsequently a wedding! Unfortunately one of her hosts was a bit overexuberant in filling up Fi's glass after she'd declined, and poured beer all over her lap. Unimpressed, Fi made a quick exit and we had time to do a bit of shopping in the market this afternoon.
So I am now the proud owner of a pair of elephant slippers, a "Same Same, But Different" T shirt (anyone who's been to Asia will understand), an embroidered apron, some table mats and central table strip, and a bracelet I hope matches Pauline's taste.
After some discussion with anyone we can find, we book our tickets up the Mekong to the Thai border by speed boat. Lonely Planet warns against this option as every week or so one ends up on the bottom of the river, but why take the slow boat over two days when a speed boat only takes six hours? Apparently all we need are earplugs, crash helmets, warm clothes, a wind breaker, and a sense of adventure.
The length of time it takes me to publish my next post will give you an indication as to how we got on. Fingers crossed.
Vang Vieng - an essential stop
Vang Vieng is just under half way between Vientiane and Luang Prabang. Many travellers pass it by - big mistake. Small enough to have retained its charm, but large enough to have plenty to see and do, VV is an excellent spot to spend a couple of nights while touring the Lao highlands.
Fi and I catch a bus from Vientiane, and the lowland plain soon give way to hills and increasingly steep terrain, where the road grinds its way over steep passes to finally arrive in VV five hours later.
The limestone karsts of Halong Bay look like they've been transposed to the Laotian highlands.
First step is deciding what tour we want to take, and the caving/kayaking combo looks the best. As usual, we meet up with other travellers, and join forces with Tara, an English girl from Brighton. We discover she almost splits Fi's and my ages, but we get on fine despite the half-generational gap.
The caving is brilliant. With lights strapped to our head, we tube in to the cave and head upstream for half an hour or so. At the odd spot we need to get out and walk - a bit reminiscent of the Cu Chi tunnels - but soon we're back in the tubes again sculling our way up against the gentle current. A bit cool, but at one stage a hot spring feeds the stream and we enjoy a warm bath. Having spotted the tiny bats in the cave roof we turn around and head back to the entrance.
Time for a bit of sunbathing before lunch.
We take in a reclining cave Buddha - time to contemplate our increased physical activity in the afternoon.
Next step is in to the kayaks for a blast downstream, with a few minor rapids to add a bit of excitement. Tara and Fi share a double while I'm in a single. It takes them a while to get used to tandem paddling and steering, but get the hang of it ok.
With memories of my unplanned dip in the Wanganui River in January, my camera is safely stowed in the drybag, but we don't have any incidents.
In true tourist fashion we stop at a drinks station on the river for a bit of liquid refreshment. The place is pumping - loud western music, Beer Lao, whiskey buckets, and sunbaked Westerners everywhere. Hardly an authentic Lao experience, but a lot of fun anyway.
Fi and Tara have a go at the swing - about 15m above the river, and with good momentum you can drop about 10m at the other end. More cautious swingers come back for a modest 3m drop in to the water. I pass as my left shoulder's still giving me a bit of trouble.
Fi and Tara were appropriately dressed in T shirts over their bikini tops. Fortunate, as a couple of the bikini-only girls lost their tops on the way - to their mortification and early high plunge in to the river, but much to the amusement of the boys.
Fi celebrates half a dozen jumps with a well-deserved Beer Lao. A very tasty drop by the way - Vietnamese, Cambodian and Lao beers come highly commended. You can also get a very good dark Beer Lao - not dissimilar to a Speights Old Dark.
We pull in to our disembarkation point well satisfied with our afternoon's efforts. We're also pleased we chose the kayaking option, as we could have tubed the river instead. But tubing is slower, you're at a bit more risk of bruises over the rapids, and the last couple of hours are very cold once the sun dips below the hills.
We say goodbye to Tara after dinner. She's staying another day at VV while Fi and I head north to Luang Prabang. But she's following us up the following day, and we may well catch up again.
Fi and I catch a bus from Vientiane, and the lowland plain soon give way to hills and increasingly steep terrain, where the road grinds its way over steep passes to finally arrive in VV five hours later.
The limestone karsts of Halong Bay look like they've been transposed to the Laotian highlands.
First step is deciding what tour we want to take, and the caving/kayaking combo looks the best. As usual, we meet up with other travellers, and join forces with Tara, an English girl from Brighton. We discover she almost splits Fi's and my ages, but we get on fine despite the half-generational gap.
The caving is brilliant. With lights strapped to our head, we tube in to the cave and head upstream for half an hour or so. At the odd spot we need to get out and walk - a bit reminiscent of the Cu Chi tunnels - but soon we're back in the tubes again sculling our way up against the gentle current. A bit cool, but at one stage a hot spring feeds the stream and we enjoy a warm bath. Having spotted the tiny bats in the cave roof we turn around and head back to the entrance.
Time for a bit of sunbathing before lunch.
We take in a reclining cave Buddha - time to contemplate our increased physical activity in the afternoon.
Next step is in to the kayaks for a blast downstream, with a few minor rapids to add a bit of excitement. Tara and Fi share a double while I'm in a single. It takes them a while to get used to tandem paddling and steering, but get the hang of it ok.
With memories of my unplanned dip in the Wanganui River in January, my camera is safely stowed in the drybag, but we don't have any incidents.
In true tourist fashion we stop at a drinks station on the river for a bit of liquid refreshment. The place is pumping - loud western music, Beer Lao, whiskey buckets, and sunbaked Westerners everywhere. Hardly an authentic Lao experience, but a lot of fun anyway.
Fi and Tara have a go at the swing - about 15m above the river, and with good momentum you can drop about 10m at the other end. More cautious swingers come back for a modest 3m drop in to the water. I pass as my left shoulder's still giving me a bit of trouble.
Fi and Tara were appropriately dressed in T shirts over their bikini tops. Fortunate, as a couple of the bikini-only girls lost their tops on the way - to their mortification and early high plunge in to the river, but much to the amusement of the boys.
Fi celebrates half a dozen jumps with a well-deserved Beer Lao. A very tasty drop by the way - Vietnamese, Cambodian and Lao beers come highly commended. You can also get a very good dark Beer Lao - not dissimilar to a Speights Old Dark.
We pull in to our disembarkation point well satisfied with our afternoon's efforts. We're also pleased we chose the kayaking option, as we could have tubed the river instead. But tubing is slower, you're at a bit more risk of bruises over the rapids, and the last couple of hours are very cold once the sun dips below the hills.
We say goodbye to Tara after dinner. She's staying another day at VV while Fi and I head north to Luang Prabang. But she's following us up the following day, and we may well catch up again.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Vientiane
It's Monday morning 10 December, and our plane for Vientiane leaves at 10.05am. We plan to get to the airport at 9am in plenty of time for check-in.
But we're a bit slow having breakfast and checking out, then I want to stop at the Post Office to send off some Christmas post cards, and it's further to the airport than I thought...
We arrive at the check-in counter at 9.20am three minutes before it closes for our flight - cutting things pretty fine! We barely get a chance to pay our $25 departure tax (what a shock!) and look round the terminal - the flashest part of Cambodia I've seen on my entire trip. Our plane takes off 15 minutes early - now all the passengers are accounted for.
We touch down briefly in Pakse in southern Laos before arriving in Vientiane, the capital, just before lunch. An expensive taxi takes us to our preferred hotel (determined from a knock-off Lonely Planet guide Fi borrowed), but it's fully booked, and without a backup option we're in the taxi driver's merciless hands. Fortunately he takes us to an adequate hotel fairly handy to everything, where we discard our packs and set off on foot to explore the city.
Vientiane has a huge amount of appeal. It's a lot smaller than the other Asian cities, and the low density of traffic combined with wide French-designed boulevards make for easy walking and road crossing.
We stop in at Subaiadee restaurant for our first taste of Lao cuisine and are favourably impressed - much more adventurous use of spices than Khmer food, and my taste buds are reacquainted with chili, lemon grass and ginger. Fi and I both feel like trying the local brew so we order a couple of bottles of Beer Lao - and are surprised when two huge 640ml bottles arrive! But it's thirsty work walking around town, and the quality of the beer makes it slip down very easily. I kindly help Fi with her bottle too.
We appreciate the temples and French architecture as we make our way to the river promenade, and are disappointed to find the Mekong is hundreds of metres away in the distance. It's the dry season, and the river has retreated from its flood plain, but as we walk north a little tributary comes in to view, and makes for some stunning sunset images.
But perhaps the "sun sets over the Mekong" images are getting a bit predictable now.
We decide we can knock out the sights of Vientiane in a day, so book Tuesday's 2pm bus to Vang Vieng.
And that's pretty much how it pans out. The day starts with breakfast in the Joma bakery cafe, and I finally get to experience the first decent latte I've had since leaving home. A couple of stunning Buddhist temples are covered in quick succession (with a naga having a go at Fi), and we spend an hour picking up T shirts and a bracelet in the Talat Sao market.
On to Patuxai, visually similar to Paris' Arc de Triomphe but with a Lao twist. It's also known as the vertical runway. Apparently the Americans gave Laos a load of cement in the mid-sixties to build an airport, but the government decided to build a monument instead.
The famous Pha That Luang stupa is the last of our monuments, and spectacular it is too. Unfortunately it is now midday and it's closed for lunch, but an exiting tourist says we're not missing much inside. We explore the adjacent temples instead, and this is where Fiona has a very strange experience.
Buddhist monks are at pains to keep their distance from attractive young women, so imagine Fi's surprise when this middle-aged monk directs her to sit down on the steps of the temple and proceeds to give her a massage! Firstly her back, then her legs and knees, but he sensed Fi's discomfort as his hand drifted up her thigh. So round to her back again where he gave it a crack like a chiropractor! Time was pressing by now so Fi had to leave, but felt a bit awkward. Thank him? Give him a donation? Run like hell? She pointed at the gate, said "Khob chai" (thank you), and strode back to the entrance.
We're on a tuk tuk (known as a jumbo in Laos) now as it's quite a way back in to town.
These things get along pretty well!
A bite to eat and we're on the bus to Vang Vieng, with time to reflect on our Vientiane experiences. And it's all positive. Of all the Asian cities I've visited so far, it's the only one I'd consider living in to take on an assignment. Relatively clean and modern, without the bustle and pollution of Hanoi and Saigon, and without the smell, sleaze and poverty of Phnom Penh.
The French influence is still there - not just the architecture and street signs, but the European influence combines with the strongly Buddhist culture to provide the best blend of lifestyle I've experienced to date. The Lao people are lovely too, not just their personalities but their finer features make them more physically attractive than their southern neighbours.
Vientiane - a great city. Roll on the highlands of northern Laos.
But we're a bit slow having breakfast and checking out, then I want to stop at the Post Office to send off some Christmas post cards, and it's further to the airport than I thought...
We arrive at the check-in counter at 9.20am three minutes before it closes for our flight - cutting things pretty fine! We barely get a chance to pay our $25 departure tax (what a shock!) and look round the terminal - the flashest part of Cambodia I've seen on my entire trip. Our plane takes off 15 minutes early - now all the passengers are accounted for.
We touch down briefly in Pakse in southern Laos before arriving in Vientiane, the capital, just before lunch. An expensive taxi takes us to our preferred hotel (determined from a knock-off Lonely Planet guide Fi borrowed), but it's fully booked, and without a backup option we're in the taxi driver's merciless hands. Fortunately he takes us to an adequate hotel fairly handy to everything, where we discard our packs and set off on foot to explore the city.
Vientiane has a huge amount of appeal. It's a lot smaller than the other Asian cities, and the low density of traffic combined with wide French-designed boulevards make for easy walking and road crossing.
We stop in at Subaiadee restaurant for our first taste of Lao cuisine and are favourably impressed - much more adventurous use of spices than Khmer food, and my taste buds are reacquainted with chili, lemon grass and ginger. Fi and I both feel like trying the local brew so we order a couple of bottles of Beer Lao - and are surprised when two huge 640ml bottles arrive! But it's thirsty work walking around town, and the quality of the beer makes it slip down very easily. I kindly help Fi with her bottle too.
We appreciate the temples and French architecture as we make our way to the river promenade, and are disappointed to find the Mekong is hundreds of metres away in the distance. It's the dry season, and the river has retreated from its flood plain, but as we walk north a little tributary comes in to view, and makes for some stunning sunset images.
But perhaps the "sun sets over the Mekong" images are getting a bit predictable now.
We decide we can knock out the sights of Vientiane in a day, so book Tuesday's 2pm bus to Vang Vieng.
And that's pretty much how it pans out. The day starts with breakfast in the Joma bakery cafe, and I finally get to experience the first decent latte I've had since leaving home. A couple of stunning Buddhist temples are covered in quick succession (with a naga having a go at Fi), and we spend an hour picking up T shirts and a bracelet in the Talat Sao market.
On to Patuxai, visually similar to Paris' Arc de Triomphe but with a Lao twist. It's also known as the vertical runway. Apparently the Americans gave Laos a load of cement in the mid-sixties to build an airport, but the government decided to build a monument instead.
The famous Pha That Luang stupa is the last of our monuments, and spectacular it is too. Unfortunately it is now midday and it's closed for lunch, but an exiting tourist says we're not missing much inside. We explore the adjacent temples instead, and this is where Fiona has a very strange experience.
Buddhist monks are at pains to keep their distance from attractive young women, so imagine Fi's surprise when this middle-aged monk directs her to sit down on the steps of the temple and proceeds to give her a massage! Firstly her back, then her legs and knees, but he sensed Fi's discomfort as his hand drifted up her thigh. So round to her back again where he gave it a crack like a chiropractor! Time was pressing by now so Fi had to leave, but felt a bit awkward. Thank him? Give him a donation? Run like hell? She pointed at the gate, said "Khob chai" (thank you), and strode back to the entrance.
We're on a tuk tuk (known as a jumbo in Laos) now as it's quite a way back in to town.
These things get along pretty well!
A bite to eat and we're on the bus to Vang Vieng, with time to reflect on our Vientiane experiences. And it's all positive. Of all the Asian cities I've visited so far, it's the only one I'd consider living in to take on an assignment. Relatively clean and modern, without the bustle and pollution of Hanoi and Saigon, and without the smell, sleaze and poverty of Phnom Penh.
The French influence is still there - not just the architecture and street signs, but the European influence combines with the strongly Buddhist culture to provide the best blend of lifestyle I've experienced to date. The Lao people are lovely too, not just their personalities but their finer features make them more physically attractive than their southern neighbours.
Vientiane - a great city. Roll on the highlands of northern Laos.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Angkor magic
Getting away from Phnom Penh has us in a bit of a panic. Fi finds there's more VSA work to do than planned, but we're already booked on the 1pm bus and the clock is ticking...
But we do have time for breakfast with Fi's colleague Anna and her family - parents Adrienne & Paul, and brother Jeremy. Great chatting with them and swapping notes on our talented daughters.
With minutes to spare we're on the bus to Siem Reap. I'm not unhappy to leave PP behind - my least favourite Asian city so far.
A couple of Indian girls in the adjacent seat ask to borrow my Lonely Planet Cambodia guide - they're off to view the Angkor temples too and need to do some preparation. Fi and I speculate on their accents - I pick English and Fi picks Australian. Fi's right - they're from Melbourne. We chat away for the rest of the trip, and arrange to meet up for dinner. Marcella is the older sister, and emigrated from Madras with her family when she was nine years old. Lucy, 10 years her junior, was born in Australia.
Siem Reap is a real party town with so many foreigners. Hotels and eateries everywhere, the latter concentrating in the aptly named Bar St. We meet at the Soup Dragon and the girls enjoy two for one cocktails as we decide to join forces and plan our Angkor strategy.
Fi and I are committing the ultimate sacrilege - we're only allowing one day to see the temples. Three days is recommended. But time is precious now as Laos and northern Thailand have to be squeezed in before Christmas.
So that gives us time for only four temples - Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm, Preah Kahn and Bayon.
We discuss transport options. Angkor Wat is 7km north of town, and the other temples are on a circuit approximately 5km apart.
I check out Fi's and mine - all is good. We go for a test ride - no probs. Marcella and Lucy look over the second tandem and go for a ride - they're not so confident and haven't quite mastered tandem riding. The seats are also wrong and can't be easily adjusted, so we swap bikes. More brake adjustments but in our hurry to get going I fail to check the chain tension on the second bike.
With Lucy on the back of my bike and Marcella on the back of Fi's we set off for Angkor - running a bit behind time now. About 3km up the road the loose chain for the rear pedaler on my bike slips off the sprocket and the power to weight ratio takes a serious dive as Lucy gets a free ride. I click in to grunt mode and we still make reasonable time.
Finally Angkor Wat comes in to view, and I marvel at the sheer scale of this walled and moated city (1,500m x 1300m) encasing a huge temple. The architecture, engineering and craftsmanship is astounding, particularly considering it was built in the 1100s. Over this period the Ankgor kingdom spread through most of Vietnam, Laos and Thailand, and Angkor was a bustling metropolis of a million people while London was still a scrawny town of 50,000.
But part of me also thinks of the suffering of the labourers as they sweated away for nearly half a century to build a monument to megalomaniacal Suryavarman II, not content with just being King, but pretending to God-king status. And of course he had to better the temples of his predecessors.
Fi takes the style award, but my ears don't get burnt.
It's steep up there - suitable for God-kings only. Now cordoned off - likely for preservation of both the crumbling steps and tourists with mortal failings.
The scale and grandeur is counterpointed by incredible detail in the carvings. Every stone surface has a story to tell.
Within the outer walls. This place is huge.
It's getting close to lunch time now, so with three temples yet to see we head off to Ta Prohm. Quite a hike in the heat, not helped by ongoing chain problems.
Ta Prohm is the temple that reminds us that nature will quickly reclaim what man has carefully constructed if unmaintained.
Amazing seeing how the trees have started from a toehold and completely dominated and destroyed the temple.
On to Preah Kahn, and more bike problems. My bike now gets a punctured front tyre, and we have no tools or repair kit. As Marcella and Lucy have three days here, we split up and Fi and I carry on with the good bike, while Marcella and Lucy seek out a tuk tuk. As it happens, they just beat us to Preah Kahn.
Difficult to show in photos, Preah Kahn has incredible symmetry. Four processional walkways converge on a stupa in the dead centre of the temple. This eastern structure looks like it was imported from Athens.
On to Bayon in the late afternoon sun.
Hundreds of benignly smiling faces look down on you from every direction - the ultimate in quiet control and domination over one's subjects. There is no escape from the all-seeing eyes.
And my pick of the temples? Angkor Wat is majestic but doesn't quite do it for me. Similarly Preah Kahn. It's a toss up between Ta Prohm and Bayon, but in the end I think the symbolism of nature reasserting itself over man's futile attempts at vainglory put Ta Prohm at the top of my list.
But all in all a brilliant day - temples, our friendship with Marcella and Lucy, and our mechanical troubles combined to make it all highly memorable.
Fi and I fly back to Siem Reap on the tandem - leaving tuk tuks and motos in our wake. We arrive back at the bike hire place at the same time as Marcella and Lucy, and the four of us have a stand-up row with the owner of the bike rental place. We insist on a full refund for the faulty bike, he insists the charges stand as he now has to fix the puncture. The Mexican standoff lasts for 20 minutes until they finally agree on a compromise - a 50% discount. We all walk away happy and no one loses too much face.
Sad - tomorrow is my last day in Cambodia. But Laos beckons, and finally I'll be on equal footing with Fiona - she's never been there, and neither of us know the language. Should be a lot of fun.
But we do have time for breakfast with Fi's colleague Anna and her family - parents Adrienne & Paul, and brother Jeremy. Great chatting with them and swapping notes on our talented daughters.
With minutes to spare we're on the bus to Siem Reap. I'm not unhappy to leave PP behind - my least favourite Asian city so far.
A couple of Indian girls in the adjacent seat ask to borrow my Lonely Planet Cambodia guide - they're off to view the Angkor temples too and need to do some preparation. Fi and I speculate on their accents - I pick English and Fi picks Australian. Fi's right - they're from Melbourne. We chat away for the rest of the trip, and arrange to meet up for dinner. Marcella is the older sister, and emigrated from Madras with her family when she was nine years old. Lucy, 10 years her junior, was born in Australia.
Siem Reap is a real party town with so many foreigners. Hotels and eateries everywhere, the latter concentrating in the aptly named Bar St. We meet at the Soup Dragon and the girls enjoy two for one cocktails as we decide to join forces and plan our Angkor strategy.
Fi and I are committing the ultimate sacrilege - we're only allowing one day to see the temples. Three days is recommended. But time is precious now as Laos and northern Thailand have to be squeezed in before Christmas.
So that gives us time for only four temples - Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm, Preah Kahn and Bayon.
We discuss transport options. Angkor Wat is 7km north of town, and the other temples are on a circuit approximately 5km apart.
- Car or 4WD - too expensive and unnecessary
- Horse or elephant - impractical and expensive
- Hot air balloon - only provides an aerial view
- Helicoptor - as above with the added burden of the $1,000/hr cost
- Tour bus - spare me. I don't speak Japanese or German
- Tuk tuk or moto - a strong possibility, but a bit expensive
- Walking - cheap and cheerful, but the distances are too great
- Bicycles - the obvious choice!
I check out Fi's and mine - all is good. We go for a test ride - no probs. Marcella and Lucy look over the second tandem and go for a ride - they're not so confident and haven't quite mastered tandem riding. The seats are also wrong and can't be easily adjusted, so we swap bikes. More brake adjustments but in our hurry to get going I fail to check the chain tension on the second bike.
With Lucy on the back of my bike and Marcella on the back of Fi's we set off for Angkor - running a bit behind time now. About 3km up the road the loose chain for the rear pedaler on my bike slips off the sprocket and the power to weight ratio takes a serious dive as Lucy gets a free ride. I click in to grunt mode and we still make reasonable time.
Finally Angkor Wat comes in to view, and I marvel at the sheer scale of this walled and moated city (1,500m x 1300m) encasing a huge temple. The architecture, engineering and craftsmanship is astounding, particularly considering it was built in the 1100s. Over this period the Ankgor kingdom spread through most of Vietnam, Laos and Thailand, and Angkor was a bustling metropolis of a million people while London was still a scrawny town of 50,000.
But part of me also thinks of the suffering of the labourers as they sweated away for nearly half a century to build a monument to megalomaniacal Suryavarman II, not content with just being King, but pretending to God-king status. And of course he had to better the temples of his predecessors.
Fi takes the style award, but my ears don't get burnt.
It's steep up there - suitable for God-kings only. Now cordoned off - likely for preservation of both the crumbling steps and tourists with mortal failings.
The scale and grandeur is counterpointed by incredible detail in the carvings. Every stone surface has a story to tell.
Within the outer walls. This place is huge.
It's getting close to lunch time now, so with three temples yet to see we head off to Ta Prohm. Quite a hike in the heat, not helped by ongoing chain problems.
Ta Prohm is the temple that reminds us that nature will quickly reclaim what man has carefully constructed if unmaintained.
Amazing seeing how the trees have started from a toehold and completely dominated and destroyed the temple.
On to Preah Kahn, and more bike problems. My bike now gets a punctured front tyre, and we have no tools or repair kit. As Marcella and Lucy have three days here, we split up and Fi and I carry on with the good bike, while Marcella and Lucy seek out a tuk tuk. As it happens, they just beat us to Preah Kahn.
Difficult to show in photos, Preah Kahn has incredible symmetry. Four processional walkways converge on a stupa in the dead centre of the temple. This eastern structure looks like it was imported from Athens.
On to Bayon in the late afternoon sun.
Hundreds of benignly smiling faces look down on you from every direction - the ultimate in quiet control and domination over one's subjects. There is no escape from the all-seeing eyes.
And my pick of the temples? Angkor Wat is majestic but doesn't quite do it for me. Similarly Preah Kahn. It's a toss up between Ta Prohm and Bayon, but in the end I think the symbolism of nature reasserting itself over man's futile attempts at vainglory put Ta Prohm at the top of my list.
But all in all a brilliant day - temples, our friendship with Marcella and Lucy, and our mechanical troubles combined to make it all highly memorable.
Fi and I fly back to Siem Reap on the tandem - leaving tuk tuks and motos in our wake. We arrive back at the bike hire place at the same time as Marcella and Lucy, and the four of us have a stand-up row with the owner of the bike rental place. We insist on a full refund for the faulty bike, he insists the charges stand as he now has to fix the puncture. The Mexican standoff lasts for 20 minutes until they finally agree on a compromise - a 50% discount. We all walk away happy and no one loses too much face.
Sad - tomorrow is my last day in Cambodia. But Laos beckons, and finally I'll be on equal footing with Fiona - she's never been there, and neither of us know the language. Should be a lot of fun.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
The Bokor workout
It's Friday morning and we're eagerly awaiting our trip up Bokor Mountain to see the old French hill station buildings. To escape the oppressive heat of the coastal plain, the colonial French built a hotel, church, casino and supporting buildings on the top of 1,000m high Bokor in the 1920s. Many indentured labourers perished building the 42km sealed road, which took over five years.
We've chosen the more expensive hotel tour, swayed by their arguments of better 4WDs and a better lunch. Pickup is at 8am.
8.35am comes and goes and no pickup. We're seriously debating the "quality" of this trip with the hotel management, but they assure us the driver's on his way, delayed by others not ready on time. I eye up a nice Honda Baja XR 250 in the foyer and think this would be a great way to get up the mountain.
Sure enough the 4WD arrives, and we're on the back tray sitting on narrow lengthways-running bench seats. Some padding, but not a lot. There's a grab bar in front of us, and I wonder how much it will be needed. It was a sealed road after all. Fi smiles - she's done this trip before when she first got to Cambodia.
No problems for the first few kms. We buy our tickets for entry to the National Park and head on up the hill.
The road was indeed sealed - back in the 20s. Since the French abandoned the place in the 40s it's received next to no attention, and approximately 0.01% of the seal now remains. The remainder consists of ruts, washouts and pot holes, dropping from the seal level by 300 to 500mm. Definitely 4WD and Baja/Dakar bike country - a few foolhardy cars and motos attempt the trip, and a few occasionally succeed. The rest are waylaid with flat tyres and cracked sumps - indicated by ominous trails of oil in the dust.
After an hour and a half of kidney-destroying jolting and dodging low-hanging undergrowth we finally get to the place where the King attempted to build a palace. No this isn't it - though I guess you could sling a nice hammock in the gatehouse. I was more intrigued with the "Friends" sign. I'd feel a bit more inclined if some of our entrance fee went in to maintaining the road.
After another half an hour we finally make the summit, and start having a look around.
Fi chats away to our guide in both English and Khmer as we enjoy the view out to sea.
Looking through a Vietnamese machine gun platform from a hill above the church to the old casino 500m away. The Vietnamese finally defeated Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge in 1979, but at considerable cost to Cambodia - anything of value here was ripped out and taken back to Vietnam, so the monuments are pretty stark. The Khmer Rouge were holed up in the Casino, and they took pot-shots at each other - certainly plenty of bullet damage.
The casino is particularly impressive. Imagine something the size of Sky City built here. Even better, the French casino had an impressive ballroom, with a huge open fireplace against one wall. I idly thought of a Ceroc party here - it must have been fun back in the swinging 20s - if you were part of the French elite. There's talk of building another casino here - it's certainly an impressive spot, and would bring much-needed revenue to the region, but it's important to keep the old buildings as well.
People still live up here - there's a Ranger station (important as the Park is under threat from poachers and illegal loggers), and a temple where seven monks live. We had the opportunity to look around, and check out the wildlife.
Fi gives this monkey a banana I've carefully stashed in my bag for afternoon tea. I'm not impressed! The monkey looks pretty well fed by the monks to me.
Our grinding two hour trip back down is thankfully broken by an opportunity for a half hour jungle trek. Supposedy to a waterfall, but it's a dry creek bed in the dry season. A remarkable absence of wildlife - perhaps a good thing. There's a few tigers in the park, but fortunately not too close to us. The Gary Larson in me sees two tigers anticipating the arrival of meals on wheels as another 4WD chugs up the hill.
Finally back on the flat, and our trip is completed by a sunset cruise along the river back to Kampot.
And very pretty it is too. The river is integral to the way of life around Kampot - kids even take boats to school.
We've chosen the more expensive hotel tour, swayed by their arguments of better 4WDs and a better lunch. Pickup is at 8am.
8.35am comes and goes and no pickup. We're seriously debating the "quality" of this trip with the hotel management, but they assure us the driver's on his way, delayed by others not ready on time. I eye up a nice Honda Baja XR 250 in the foyer and think this would be a great way to get up the mountain.
Sure enough the 4WD arrives, and we're on the back tray sitting on narrow lengthways-running bench seats. Some padding, but not a lot. There's a grab bar in front of us, and I wonder how much it will be needed. It was a sealed road after all. Fi smiles - she's done this trip before when she first got to Cambodia.
No problems for the first few kms. We buy our tickets for entry to the National Park and head on up the hill.
The road was indeed sealed - back in the 20s. Since the French abandoned the place in the 40s it's received next to no attention, and approximately 0.01% of the seal now remains. The remainder consists of ruts, washouts and pot holes, dropping from the seal level by 300 to 500mm. Definitely 4WD and Baja/Dakar bike country - a few foolhardy cars and motos attempt the trip, and a few occasionally succeed. The rest are waylaid with flat tyres and cracked sumps - indicated by ominous trails of oil in the dust.
After an hour and a half of kidney-destroying jolting and dodging low-hanging undergrowth we finally get to the place where the King attempted to build a palace. No this isn't it - though I guess you could sling a nice hammock in the gatehouse. I was more intrigued with the "Friends" sign. I'd feel a bit more inclined if some of our entrance fee went in to maintaining the road.
After another half an hour we finally make the summit, and start having a look around.
Fi chats away to our guide in both English and Khmer as we enjoy the view out to sea.
Looking through a Vietnamese machine gun platform from a hill above the church to the old casino 500m away. The Vietnamese finally defeated Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge in 1979, but at considerable cost to Cambodia - anything of value here was ripped out and taken back to Vietnam, so the monuments are pretty stark. The Khmer Rouge were holed up in the Casino, and they took pot-shots at each other - certainly plenty of bullet damage.
The casino is particularly impressive. Imagine something the size of Sky City built here. Even better, the French casino had an impressive ballroom, with a huge open fireplace against one wall. I idly thought of a Ceroc party here - it must have been fun back in the swinging 20s - if you were part of the French elite. There's talk of building another casino here - it's certainly an impressive spot, and would bring much-needed revenue to the region, but it's important to keep the old buildings as well.
People still live up here - there's a Ranger station (important as the Park is under threat from poachers and illegal loggers), and a temple where seven monks live. We had the opportunity to look around, and check out the wildlife.
Fi gives this monkey a banana I've carefully stashed in my bag for afternoon tea. I'm not impressed! The monkey looks pretty well fed by the monks to me.
Our grinding two hour trip back down is thankfully broken by an opportunity for a half hour jungle trek. Supposedy to a waterfall, but it's a dry creek bed in the dry season. A remarkable absence of wildlife - perhaps a good thing. There's a few tigers in the park, but fortunately not too close to us. The Gary Larson in me sees two tigers anticipating the arrival of meals on wheels as another 4WD chugs up the hill.
Finally back on the flat, and our trip is completed by a sunset cruise along the river back to Kampot.
And very pretty it is too. The river is integral to the way of life around Kampot - kids even take boats to school.
A paraglider would be a great way to get the view without the hill trip, but we're on our way back to PP tonight, and we have to book an exclusive taxi at this time of night. $30 instead of 2x$5, but it has to be done to get us back on schedule. Fi has a lot of VSA work to conclude.
We hear the "cheap" Bokor trip had problems. Both their 4WDs broke down, and their guests are just starting the sunset trip as we conclude ours. It is worth paying for quality after all.
Our bodies are aching from the trip - our bums from the seats and our arms from desperately hanging on to the bar. Legs have had a good workout too with the jungle trek. We sink in to the back of the taxi, hoping for a bit of sleep, but the driver's on a mission from God to get us to PP as quickly as possible. Recall the road condition? Sleep is impossible as we get jolted around the back seat, our heads propelled off the headrests if we dare lean back and close our eyes.
On arrival in PP Fi disappears off to VSA and with second wind I go for a stroll and have dinner. A Thai restaurant offers expressos and lattes. Really? My first opportunity for a decent coffee since leaving home?! Sadly I'm disappointed - watery milk with the merest hint of an expresso shot. Perhaps Thailand.
I listen to The Doors' Light my Fire wafting out from a nearby bar and think of the comforts of home. But peripatetic life is demanding, and it's back to the hotel to plan the Angkor attack.
After the Bokor workout, my eyes close as soon as my head hits the pillow.
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