We could have done with another day in Chiang Mai - a great town with plenty to see and do, but we don't really have time to just wander. Fi's on a mission from God to buy some clothes so it's off to Bangkok on the overnight sleeper train.
We're dropped at the railway station after the cooking course and settle down at a bar for fruit smoothies and juices before the train departs.
We find we're sharing our cabin with a couple of California girls, one is Thai but was born in the States, so is really struggling with the language. Whenever a guard barks out a message we turn to her expectantly for a translation. "Um - I didn't quite catch that...". She's quite embarrassed - more so when Thais unleash a torrent at her and she flushes blankly.
Fi and I have the cheap upstairs bunks - all that were available when we came to book. A warning for fellow travellers - on Thai trains the lower bunks are definitely worth the extra 100 baht. They're wider, and don't rock and roll as much as the upper bunks. Inexplicably the lights are left on all night, and shine directly in to the upper bunks too. The aircon is ferocious, and we need to rug up in sweatshirts as well.
And this is where my little problem starts. At 1am I wake up and my insides are boiling. Something I ate didn't agree with me. I rush down to the toilet and make it just in time. I'll spare you the details of the next five hours, but be assured that D&V is not pleasant, less so when combined with a train toilet.
In the morning I cast my mind back - something I cooked at the cooking school? Probably not - Fi and I shared our meals and she has no problems. Perhaps the smoothie I had. Who knows.
Off the train and we head for the famed Khaosan Road - Bangkok's backpacker area. We've arrived at a good time in the morning - while a few guesthouses are full, Fi scouts around and finds a good one just off the main drag. Close to everything but not too noisy. As it happens it's pretty sedate anyway - the elections are in full swing and there's a booze ban in place, even for foreigners.
I lie in the coolth of our air-conditioned room (with private bathroom) taking a nap and trying to regain my strength. Fi heads out on her own to hit the shopping malls, but comes back disappointed and empty-handed. Everything's too expensive, but the street markets in Khaosan Rd are more promising. We're staying in the right place.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Chiang Mai, the Samoeng Loop, and Thai cuisine
We say good bye to Chiang Rai as we head out of town on the bus on Wednesday morning. A pleasant enough city, but not a whole heap to see or do within. The bus chugs south for about four hours - at least we're out of the heat of the midday sun.
But pretty soon we were on our way through a 100km loop of biker heaven. Endless curves winding up and down hills and valleys through the Khun Khan, Doi Suthep and Doi Pui National Parks. Doesn't get much better than this. We take it easy though, not just due to the bike. The seal's a bit rough in patches, dogs are running around, and the odd kamikaze car overtakes into our path. And of course we have no insurance, apart from medical should we have a spill. But I'd carefully packed the First Aid kit to ward off any such occurences.
And pose for the record. No - Fiona wears the cute pink helmet!
We're completely unprepared for our arrival in Chiang Mai. No research, no Lonely Planet, no clue as to the layout of the city, or where to go for a cheap guesthouse. By chance we're sitting in front of a couple of Dutch girls, who are returning to their guesthouse after a trip north. They recommend it, and in a few minutes we're on our way with them in a couple of tuk tuks to The Safe House.
As it happens, it's pretty much perfect. 350 baht per night, good room, and reasonably handy to everything, though noting Chiang Mai's a big town and you really need a tuk tuk to get around with any speed. We spend the afternoon cruising the markets and shopping centres - Fi's on her way home to NZ and has no clothes to wear! We decide that Bangkok will be better for shopping, and will therefore only spend two and a half days here.Which brings us to Thurs 20th, and the Samoeng Loop. I'd heard about this ride through the National Parks nort west of Chiang Mai while researching motorbike rental from NZ, and was keen to do it. A quick bit of googling finds Mr Mechanic Bike Rentals just down the road from our guesthouse, and in the far corner, behind all the scooters, is an ageing Honda CB750. "Good enough!" I thought, and after a thorough check and 500 baht poorer we were heading out on the highway.
The poor suspension coupled with the near-bald rear tyre worn to a square section were the worst problems. It took a while to get used to the handling. Second problem was the gutless performance down low, and the slightly tall third gear in the clunky gearbox that wouldn't find neutral. Give me a newish V-twin any day!But pretty soon we were on our way through a 100km loop of biker heaven. Endless curves winding up and down hills and valleys through the Khun Khan, Doi Suthep and Doi Pui National Parks. Doesn't get much better than this. We take it easy though, not just due to the bike. The seal's a bit rough in patches, dogs are running around, and the odd kamikaze car overtakes into our path. And of course we have no insurance, apart from medical should we have a spill. But I'd carefully packed the First Aid kit to ward off any such occurences.
We stop for lunch half way in Samoeng.
Admire the views over Khun Khan from the lookout.
And pose for the record. No - Fiona wears the cute pink helmet!
After returning the bike unscathed, we head for the shopping centre. Fi's had a problem with her camera's memory card - looks like an electrical spike while inserting it in an Internet PC has taken out the directory structure, and all the camera wants to do now is reformat it. We find a Kodak shop that has some nifty file recovery utilities, and all images are saved, including ones long since purposefully deleted. Everything's copied to a pair of DVDs, including the contents of my virus-affected card too.
Delighting in Thai cuisine, and with the good experiences of my Hoi An cooking class behind me, Fi and I book a class at an organic farm half an hour out of Chiang Mai - The Organic Farm Thai Cooking School. After a stop at the markets we reach the farm and are guided past all the herbs and spices we use actually growing - a big change from picking them off supermarket shelves.
Down to business, and our first step is to grind our own green curry paste in a mortar & pestle before turning it in to a chicken curry dish. Tom Yum with shrimps is next, followed by fried chicken with basil leaves.
We have them for lunch, and very tasty they are too - though Fi claims hers are better than mine.
In the afternoon we turn our attention to deep-fried spring rolls and the classic Pad Thai dish. But after sampling our morning's efforts, we have no room for these, so keep them for dinner on the train.
Yet another great cooking experience, and I'm keen to try out all the recipes on unsuspecting victims (ie friends and family) when I get home.
Yet another great cooking experience, and I'm keen to try out all the recipes on unsuspecting victims (ie friends and family) when I get home.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
The Golden Triangle
It's Tuesday the 18th in Chiang Rai and we're just setting out for breakfast from our functional but somewhat dreary hotel room. Reminds Fi of the prison cells in the Green Mile. A curious bathroom - we have plumbed hot water but the toilet has no cistern - just a bucket of water for manual flushing. No bum gun or toilet paper either - thank goodness for those wet wipes I took from home.
On the subject of bum guns, they're surprisingly effective once you get used to them (and squirt in the right direction). I'm thinking of putting one in at home.
But I digress. The breakfast cafe makes me feel right at home. A plastic kiwi wearing an All Blacks jersey and holding a rugby ball is sitting on the counter. I pick it up, grin, and ask who the All Blacks supporter is. I'm met with vacant stares - no English, and no comprehension of what this silly foreigner is doing with the bird toy.
The previous night we'd booked a trip up to the far north of Thailand, and as we return to our hotel the minivan is early and we're ready to go. We meet up with Lucia and Carlos, Mexicans who have been living in Madrid for the last five years. They are our only fellow tourists, and we chat away as we head north.
First stop is the monkey cave. Monkeys galore around the parking area, waiting to be fed by gullible tourists purchasing peanuts and bananas. The monkeys look well fed and lazy to me. Out of principle we don't feed them - they should be foraging for themselves.
On to the monkey cave itself, and we trudge up hundreds of stairs to the Buddha, but no monkeys. As you can see from the sign, I need to accompany Fiona.
On to the Golden Triangle, which is still a major producer of illegal opium. The terrain is extremely rugged, and the Lao and Burmese police are pretty much powerless to stop it (if not actually complicit in the trade).
Behind us, that's Burma on the left, and Laos on the right.
Opium smoking was popular years ago, but the dens are pretty much closed down now. We visit the museum to see how it was done.
Lying on your side, feet tucked up to bum, and head on a hard pillow is optimal. After a few puffs you don't feel the pillow - you're floating.
I can relate to that - back in the mid-seventies I was in hospital after a motor bike accident and needed intravenous morphine and valium to quell the pain. I was floating six inches off the bed, and didn't want to come down!
We stop at a temple where they have little coin-operated machines that tell your fortune. I'm intrigued. For a few baht I find that I need to be diligent in my profession, and things will be good for me. Bummer - suppose I'd better get another project management job when I get home.
We have the opportunity to nip across to a market in Burma, but the temporary visa is a bit pricey and we stay in Thailand to visit the temple and market. There are lots of darker Burmese faces here, with stronger Chinese features than Thais. Most are legal, but Thailand has a real problem with Burmese refugees and illegal immigrants, particularly with the latest troubles in Burma.
On to a boat and we make a surprise visit back to Laos. No visa required - just a shopping trip. Our guide loads up on cigarettes.
I sample the snake whisky and it's not too bad. Yes - those are real snakes and scorpions in the bottles. Surprisingly I also find a buffalo bone paper knife to add to my collection, so no holes in the set so far.
Our final stop is to see the "Long Neck Karen". The Karen we see are a Burmese hill tribe that fled from Burma 25 years ago. The women have developed a tradition of wrapping brass rings around their necks, ostensibly to prevent tigers attacking their throats (according to the legend). It's now a cultural tradition, and girls as young as five start having the rings put in place to enhance their beauty.
Spot the unattractive short neck!
The rings are heavy - over 2kg. They don't so much lengthen the neck as push down on the collar bones and rib cage. The problem is that once the Karen girls start wearing them they can't stop. Their elongated necks are too weak to support their head if the rings are removed.
Fiona and I have a long discussion about this. The 14 year old on the right probably looks morose for a reason - she's condemned to wearing the rings for life before she can make an informed choice. Yes the novelty value brings in a few tourist baht to help their desperately impoverished lifestyle, but at what cost? In the end we begin to wish we'd never visited - our presence and our baht perpetuate a cultural practice that we both think should be discontinued.
We join up with Lucia and Carlos again for an excellent dinner overlooking the market. More email addresses exchanged, and our list of fellow travellers grows. Will be fun welcoming them to New Zealand one day.
Our time in Chiang Rai is drawing to a close, and we're off to Chiang Mai (Thailand's second largest city) tomorrow. We're enjoying northern Thailand, but we're missing Laos too. It will be difficult to pick my favourites by the end of this trip. All is good.
On the subject of bum guns, they're surprisingly effective once you get used to them (and squirt in the right direction). I'm thinking of putting one in at home.
But I digress. The breakfast cafe makes me feel right at home. A plastic kiwi wearing an All Blacks jersey and holding a rugby ball is sitting on the counter. I pick it up, grin, and ask who the All Blacks supporter is. I'm met with vacant stares - no English, and no comprehension of what this silly foreigner is doing with the bird toy.
The previous night we'd booked a trip up to the far north of Thailand, and as we return to our hotel the minivan is early and we're ready to go. We meet up with Lucia and Carlos, Mexicans who have been living in Madrid for the last five years. They are our only fellow tourists, and we chat away as we head north.
First stop is the monkey cave. Monkeys galore around the parking area, waiting to be fed by gullible tourists purchasing peanuts and bananas. The monkeys look well fed and lazy to me. Out of principle we don't feed them - they should be foraging for themselves.
On to the monkey cave itself, and we trudge up hundreds of stairs to the Buddha, but no monkeys. As you can see from the sign, I need to accompany Fiona.
On to the Golden Triangle, which is still a major producer of illegal opium. The terrain is extremely rugged, and the Lao and Burmese police are pretty much powerless to stop it (if not actually complicit in the trade).
Behind us, that's Burma on the left, and Laos on the right.
Opium smoking was popular years ago, but the dens are pretty much closed down now. We visit the museum to see how it was done.
Lying on your side, feet tucked up to bum, and head on a hard pillow is optimal. After a few puffs you don't feel the pillow - you're floating.
I can relate to that - back in the mid-seventies I was in hospital after a motor bike accident and needed intravenous morphine and valium to quell the pain. I was floating six inches off the bed, and didn't want to come down!
We stop at a temple where they have little coin-operated machines that tell your fortune. I'm intrigued. For a few baht I find that I need to be diligent in my profession, and things will be good for me. Bummer - suppose I'd better get another project management job when I get home.
We have the opportunity to nip across to a market in Burma, but the temporary visa is a bit pricey and we stay in Thailand to visit the temple and market. There are lots of darker Burmese faces here, with stronger Chinese features than Thais. Most are legal, but Thailand has a real problem with Burmese refugees and illegal immigrants, particularly with the latest troubles in Burma.
On to a boat and we make a surprise visit back to Laos. No visa required - just a shopping trip. Our guide loads up on cigarettes.
I sample the snake whisky and it's not too bad. Yes - those are real snakes and scorpions in the bottles. Surprisingly I also find a buffalo bone paper knife to add to my collection, so no holes in the set so far.
Our final stop is to see the "Long Neck Karen". The Karen we see are a Burmese hill tribe that fled from Burma 25 years ago. The women have developed a tradition of wrapping brass rings around their necks, ostensibly to prevent tigers attacking their throats (according to the legend). It's now a cultural tradition, and girls as young as five start having the rings put in place to enhance their beauty.
Spot the unattractive short neck!
The rings are heavy - over 2kg. They don't so much lengthen the neck as push down on the collar bones and rib cage. The problem is that once the Karen girls start wearing them they can't stop. Their elongated necks are too weak to support their head if the rings are removed.
Fiona and I have a long discussion about this. The 14 year old on the right probably looks morose for a reason - she's condemned to wearing the rings for life before she can make an informed choice. Yes the novelty value brings in a few tourist baht to help their desperately impoverished lifestyle, but at what cost? In the end we begin to wish we'd never visited - our presence and our baht perpetuate a cultural practice that we both think should be discontinued.
We join up with Lucia and Carlos again for an excellent dinner overlooking the market. More email addresses exchanged, and our list of fellow travellers grows. Will be fun welcoming them to New Zealand one day.
Our time in Chiang Rai is drawing to a close, and we're off to Chiang Mai (Thailand's second largest city) tomorrow. We're enjoying northern Thailand, but we're missing Laos too. It will be difficult to pick my favourites by the end of this trip. All is good.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Laos to Thailand
Our last night in Luang Prabang was spent having dinner with Eva and Paul and strolling the markets. Lots of good stuff, but not a decent Lao paper knife to be seen. A few poor quality Chinese flick knives, and a couple of bone blade knives, but nothing of any merit.
Will be sad to leave Laos - we've really enjoyed our stay. Yes the country is pretty impoverished, but unlike Cambodia no one seems to be living in desperate poverty. The rural houses are similar to their Cambodian counterparts, but most appear to have electricity and large satellite dishes perched outside.
Sun 16 Dec dawns misty and cold, and we rug up for the speedboat north. The tuk tuk takes us 20 minutes out of town up the river, and we wait around for the boats to arrive.
A slow boat goes past and I wonder whether we'd have been better off taking it.
The speed boats look pretty fragile with an oversized engine on the back.
But pretty soon we're under way, and the cold and cramped conditions soon make their presence felt. But after the first toilet stop the sun has burned through, our bodies have adapted, and we enjoy the ride. No danger, just discomfort. Lonely Planet overstates the case when it advises against this trip. Guess it's written for Americans. I did see one passenger with a huge chunk out of her helmet though. Not necessarily thrown from a boat head first onto a jagged rock - perhaps someone just dropped it...
A second school of sardines approaches our stop.
Our EFI Toyota is brand new. It's a bit rough at idle but develops a noisy bark with plenty of torque and power as the revs rise. Makes me wonder how much they've tuned it for river conditions.
The view upstream. Phil, one of our English travelling companions now residing in Norway, had the luxury of slinging his legs ahead on to the baggage.
And from the rear, with our driver intently reading the river ahead. He does a good job and gets us to Houeisay (aka Huay Xai) in one piece.
A tuk tuk driver wants an extortionate 10,000 kip each to take us from the boat landing to the border crossing. We (Phil, Hiro from Osaka, Fi and I) try to argue him down but to no avail. There being no other tuk tuks in sight, we scramble on and head for the border. In hindsight we shouldn't have bothered arguing - I had a spare 20,000 kip which is worthless outside Laos.
Over on the ferry to Chiang Khong in Thailand, just as the sun's setting over the Mekong yet again. Fi insists I don't bore you with the photo. The Thai border doesn't close till 6pm. Just as well since our Lao visa is now useless and we can't go back.
We find the Bamboo Riverside guesthouse at a reasonable price and settle in at the bar. One of the guests recommends the guesthouse restaurant, where their specialty is Mexican! No thanks.
We all set off in to town for an authentic Thai dish on our first night in Thailand, and find a local spot full of Thais. Looks promising. It'a actually a BBQ. A charcoal burner is brought to the table, and strips of meat are roasted on top while noodles and veges are boiled in a moat around the side. We load up on squid, bacon, pork, chicken, cabbage, morning glory, spring onions and condiments, settle back and cook up a feast.
The only detraction is the elections - mobile billboards with loudspeakers blaring patrol the main street, and the restaurant can't serve beer. No worries - I've had a taste of the local brew back at the guesthouse, and it's as good as the rest.
Monday sees us exploring Chiang Khong. A nice little border town, but not a heap to see and do. One of the guests at Bamboo told us of the best massage spot she'd experienced in all of Thailand, and we're keen to check it out. The other option is to do an extended loop to Chiang Rai via the Golden Triangle, where Thailand, Laos and Burma meet (and where a lot of the world's opium is grown). Fate conspires to not have a guide available, so Fi and I enjoy a one hour full body massage.
With fingers, elbows and knees of steel, my masseuse finds evey knotted muscle in my body, and crushes them to a pulp against my bones. Yin and yang - the agony and the ecstacy. A great environment though - a waterfall gurgles in the background while soothing Thai music emanates from the speakers.
After a welcome collapse in to a chair for lunch, we hike the 1km to the bus station for our ride to Chiang Rai. Fi's dying for an ice cream, but as soon as we arrive the bus is about to pull away. We scramble on, mouths parched.
Someone's played hide and seek in the gearbox. We travel for three minutes in first while the driver apparently searches desperately for second. As we gather speed, another three minutes eventuates before we discover third. Perhaps he's waiting to be flagged down - who knows. But finally we're bumping our way through rutted back roads, watching an assortment of passengers, including monks, get on and off. Certainly a local flavour to this bus.
One Thai guy sitting across from me pulls a little compact out of his bag and starts applying what looks like blusher to his face - except in this case it's a white powder. Thais (like Cambodians) value light skin, and do whatever they can to prevent tanning. This guy takes it a bit far. I discuss it with Fi and our our guesthouse owner later and we think it's a bit strange for a guy, and speculate that he may be a bit too pretty.
Countryside is similar to nearby Laos, but the greater prosperity is evident. Farm houses are more solidly constructed, and farm machinery is much more evident.
The trip takes over two hours (a car would do it in less than one), and eventually we reach our destination. We find a guest house and an ice cream in quick succession.
Chiang Rai's a nice sized provincial city - plenty of facilities but not too big. We book our Golden Triangle trip and wander around the night market, where amazingly I come across my Thai paper knife. 250 baht gets negotiated down to 200 (about $7) and I'm very happy.
We eat at the market - prawns, spring rolls and kebabs, washed down with smoothies. I'm enjoying this place.
Will be sad to leave Laos - we've really enjoyed our stay. Yes the country is pretty impoverished, but unlike Cambodia no one seems to be living in desperate poverty. The rural houses are similar to their Cambodian counterparts, but most appear to have electricity and large satellite dishes perched outside.
Sun 16 Dec dawns misty and cold, and we rug up for the speedboat north. The tuk tuk takes us 20 minutes out of town up the river, and we wait around for the boats to arrive.
A slow boat goes past and I wonder whether we'd have been better off taking it.
The speed boats look pretty fragile with an oversized engine on the back.
But pretty soon we're under way, and the cold and cramped conditions soon make their presence felt. But after the first toilet stop the sun has burned through, our bodies have adapted, and we enjoy the ride. No danger, just discomfort. Lonely Planet overstates the case when it advises against this trip. Guess it's written for Americans. I did see one passenger with a huge chunk out of her helmet though. Not necessarily thrown from a boat head first onto a jagged rock - perhaps someone just dropped it...
A second school of sardines approaches our stop.
Our EFI Toyota is brand new. It's a bit rough at idle but develops a noisy bark with plenty of torque and power as the revs rise. Makes me wonder how much they've tuned it for river conditions.
The view upstream. Phil, one of our English travelling companions now residing in Norway, had the luxury of slinging his legs ahead on to the baggage.
And from the rear, with our driver intently reading the river ahead. He does a good job and gets us to Houeisay (aka Huay Xai) in one piece.
A tuk tuk driver wants an extortionate 10,000 kip each to take us from the boat landing to the border crossing. We (Phil, Hiro from Osaka, Fi and I) try to argue him down but to no avail. There being no other tuk tuks in sight, we scramble on and head for the border. In hindsight we shouldn't have bothered arguing - I had a spare 20,000 kip which is worthless outside Laos.
Over on the ferry to Chiang Khong in Thailand, just as the sun's setting over the Mekong yet again. Fi insists I don't bore you with the photo. The Thai border doesn't close till 6pm. Just as well since our Lao visa is now useless and we can't go back.
We find the Bamboo Riverside guesthouse at a reasonable price and settle in at the bar. One of the guests recommends the guesthouse restaurant, where their specialty is Mexican! No thanks.
We all set off in to town for an authentic Thai dish on our first night in Thailand, and find a local spot full of Thais. Looks promising. It'a actually a BBQ. A charcoal burner is brought to the table, and strips of meat are roasted on top while noodles and veges are boiled in a moat around the side. We load up on squid, bacon, pork, chicken, cabbage, morning glory, spring onions and condiments, settle back and cook up a feast.
The only detraction is the elections - mobile billboards with loudspeakers blaring patrol the main street, and the restaurant can't serve beer. No worries - I've had a taste of the local brew back at the guesthouse, and it's as good as the rest.
Monday sees us exploring Chiang Khong. A nice little border town, but not a heap to see and do. One of the guests at Bamboo told us of the best massage spot she'd experienced in all of Thailand, and we're keen to check it out. The other option is to do an extended loop to Chiang Rai via the Golden Triangle, where Thailand, Laos and Burma meet (and where a lot of the world's opium is grown). Fate conspires to not have a guide available, so Fi and I enjoy a one hour full body massage.
With fingers, elbows and knees of steel, my masseuse finds evey knotted muscle in my body, and crushes them to a pulp against my bones. Yin and yang - the agony and the ecstacy. A great environment though - a waterfall gurgles in the background while soothing Thai music emanates from the speakers.
After a welcome collapse in to a chair for lunch, we hike the 1km to the bus station for our ride to Chiang Rai. Fi's dying for an ice cream, but as soon as we arrive the bus is about to pull away. We scramble on, mouths parched.
Someone's played hide and seek in the gearbox. We travel for three minutes in first while the driver apparently searches desperately for second. As we gather speed, another three minutes eventuates before we discover third. Perhaps he's waiting to be flagged down - who knows. But finally we're bumping our way through rutted back roads, watching an assortment of passengers, including monks, get on and off. Certainly a local flavour to this bus.
One Thai guy sitting across from me pulls a little compact out of his bag and starts applying what looks like blusher to his face - except in this case it's a white powder. Thais (like Cambodians) value light skin, and do whatever they can to prevent tanning. This guy takes it a bit far. I discuss it with Fi and our our guesthouse owner later and we think it's a bit strange for a guy, and speculate that he may be a bit too pretty.
Countryside is similar to nearby Laos, but the greater prosperity is evident. Farm houses are more solidly constructed, and farm machinery is much more evident.
The trip takes over two hours (a car would do it in less than one), and eventually we reach our destination. We find a guest house and an ice cream in quick succession.
Chiang Rai's a nice sized provincial city - plenty of facilities but not too big. We book our Golden Triangle trip and wander around the night market, where amazingly I come across my Thai paper knife. 250 baht gets negotiated down to 200 (about $7) and I'm very happy.
We eat at the market - prawns, spring rolls and kebabs, washed down with smoothies. I'm enjoying this place.
A virus stole my memory card
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!
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!
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.
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