Hanoi

When we eventually reached the Hanoi bus stop we were so relieved to be off the bus after 26 hours, but realised that we were still not in the centre of Hanoi and needed to take a taxi from the bus stop. The two girls we met on the bus were going to the same part of the city as we were, so we decided to save on costs and share a taxi together. The usual group of ten desperate taxi drivers were crowding around us, so we chose one and walked towards his taxi. Seeing the meters on the taxis, we were reassured as the driver couldn’t rip us off as easily (or so we thought). It was only when the four of us started putting our bags in the boot that the driver started protesting, saying that he could only take two of us and the other two would have to get in his mate’s taxi. This was obviously beneficial to them but not for us. We insisted that we were travelling together as a four and got in the taxi while the driver and his mate were almost having a punch up. The driver then got in the car and we set off.

Jonno had set up the navigation on his map to show us where we were going, and after a while we realised that the driver was taking us an extra long way, and the meter on the taxi was increasing quite a lot. But seeing as we didn’t speak enough Vietnamese to question him, we just had to accept that he was ripping us off, and we were too tired to argue. When he dropped us off, we had to run to an ATM over the road as we did not have any Vietnamese dong, and we gave him a note and waited for the change. The driver just took the money and did not make any attempt to give us change, and when we asked him he refused, shut the doors and started driving off. I managed to grab the car door handle and sat in the back seat again and demanded the change. He reluctantly pushed a few notes in my hand (which was still short of the right change) and then drove off.

Takes a lot of skill to balance it all

We hadn’t booked a hotel, so followed the girls towards the hostel they wanted to stay at and found a hotel nearby which although wasn’t as cheap as we were hoping, it had friendly staff, breakfast included and a nice room. We put our bags down and went in search of some proper food as we had been surviving on the bus with mainly biscuits and crisps.

Locals spending time by the lake

The next morning we were armed with a long list of things to see and do in Hanoi, and had to try and work out how much we could cram into the two days we had allocated for Hanoi. While eating breakfast in the hotel restaurant, we stated talking to a Vietnamese man who lived in England and France but came back to Hanoi every year for a few months, and he gave us some useful information about the country. As we were brought a plate of watermelon, he explained that the locals referred to watermelon as ‘Vietnamese Ice Cream’. He also helped out the hotel staff by teaching them some English, which we got to see one evening. We thanked him for the advice and went out to explore. We stepped out from the hotel and were immediately assaulted by a variety of sights and sounds; a completely different experience to the laid back Laos! Scooters and bikes were coming from all angles with items precariously balanced on them, from boxes to huge bouquets of flowers to poles and even some had dogs as pillions. We were used to seeing people being inventive with carrying things on scooters in Southeast Asia but there were definitely more in Hanoi. The streets were also bustling with market stalls and street food vendors with new and interesting delicacies.

The first thing on our list was Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum, which was only open in the mornings for a few hours. After a half an hour walk we arrived at what seemed to be the building, and after a bit of looking confused and searching we found the entrance. We went through a few security check points, Jonno had to put his camera in a special camera bag provided, and we were ushered into a long queue of solemn faced people and lead single file into the mausoleum. Ho Chi Minh was the communist leader of Vietnam from 1941-1965, and was loved by many Vietnamese for gaining independence from French rule and fighting for a united, independent Vietnam. When he died, his body was preserved and set up in the mausoleum for people to pay their respects. We entered the dimly lit but immaculate building, and were just behind an old man with a very long thin oriental style beard who was shuffling along. He was helped up the stairs by uniformed members of staff; it was obviously a great effort for him to have got here. The body of Ho Chi Minh lay in the centre of the room, and we were only allowed to walk around the edge of the room without stopping. Upon seeing the body of his previous leader, the old man became overwhelmed and started weeping. This had a profound effect on us- it was clear how much Ho Chi Minh meant to the people of Vietnam even to the present day. I can’t think of any British leader who could bring me to tears with such devotion. (Jonno – Margaret Thatcher comes to mind but brings tears to my eyes for differing reasons!)

The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum

After this eye opening experience, we came to the Presidential Palace and the house on stilts where Ho Chi Minh lived. He refused to live in the grand palace, and instead chose the simple house on stilts behind the palace, where he had minimal possessions. We also checked out the museum on site too, but it was difficult to understand as the information was in either Vietnamese or French.

After leaving the Ho Chi Minh complex, we continued our walk down the streets, passing a few other museums but none that took our interest enough to warrant a visit. We did stumble across a photographic exhibition which aimed to highlight the living conditions of construction workers in shanty houses- a small room was set up as a row of their accommodation, with sound effects and layered photographs of household items.

Another place on the list was the Temple of Literature- a temple of Confucius and Vietnam’s first national university. Although temples don’t excite us as much as they used to now, this temple had a different style and was beautiful to look at.

Temple of literature

The last place on the list for that day was Hanoi Prison. Hoa Lo Prison was built by the French and used to detain political prisoners who supported communism, and later for American prisoners of war in the Vietnam war. It showed the conditions that the Vietnamese political prisoners lived in, some of which were in tiny, dark cells with their feet shackled to the walls. Another part of the museum showed what life was like for the American prisoners of war- there was definitely some propaganda going on as the music and environment suddenly changed, it was brighter and more upbeat, and the pictures were of the American prisoners playing games and smiling. It was an interesting place anyway.

Hanoi prison- reconstruction of the prisoners in the cell

The following day we had another museum to see- the Museum of Ethnology. It was pretty far away from where we were staying but seeing as the taxis were not the cheapest and we couldn’t work out how to use the buses, we chose to walk it. This took about an hour and a half but we passed lots of interesting things to see so didn’t mind too much. The Museum of Ethnology was dedicated to the different ethnic and minority groups who live in Vietnam and in various other parts of Southeast Asia; it went into detail about the origins of the different groups and how they have split up or migrated to other areas or countries. In Vietnam there are over fifty different ethnic groups so there was a lot of information. They had traditional costumes on display and household items and tools from villages.

Reconstructions of rural village huts

Burial hut with some very tasteful carvings

Lots of people and websites had strongly recommended a trip to Ha Long Bay, where rock formations emerge from the expanse of water to create some stunning scenery. And it’s no surprise that where tourists want to visit, there will be thousands of tour companies offering a package trip. Usually we would fight these to go on our own, but due to the limited time and the recommendation to do an overnight stay on a boat we decided to go for one of these organized trips. We visited a few companies who all said pretty much the same thing- there are three tiers of boat; the basic budget one which apparently was very old and basic and if you’re lucky it won’t sink, the middle range one which they all wanted to sell us, which was a bit more expensive but apparently the quality was so much better, and the fancy ones which they didn’t go into much detail on- I think they realised there was no point in trying. After a while of umming and ahhing about if we wanted to spend an extra $30 on a better quality boat with luxuries such as air con, a cooking class and free beer for 2 hours in the evening, we decided to treat ourselves and go with the mid range one. We were told that we would be collected from our hotel early the next morning for the two day and one night trip.

The following morning we checked out of our hotel and were taken to the minibus by our tour guide. There were thirteen on our particular boat, most of whom were on two or three week holidays rather than long term travelers. The minibus took four hours from Hanoi to reach the harbor, and included a rest stop where we had the option of buying a wooden engraved dining table and chairs set, or a five foot ceramic vase- not the kind of things I would usually shop for in a service station. We arrived at the harbor, and were taken to our boat. The boat itself was okay, it had a dining area with a bar, a lower deck for the bedrooms and an open air top deck with some deck chairs. Our room, which we had been sold to as a big room with glass shower doors and air con, was a box with about 20cm space around two sides of the double bed, and a tiny wet room with a shower attachment from the sink, and the air con was only turned on for a few hours overnight. This was a reminder why we don’t usually go on organized trips- the description and pictures are usually very exaggerated! We were summoned to the dining room for lunch, which we were allowed about 15 minutes for before getting to our first stop- the caves.

Rave caves

As we have now seen endless caves we did not have much excitement when entering the cave, but this one was a fancy cave, with a proper path and steps in place and colourful uplighting everywhere. This at least made the cave look pretty and a bit more interesting, a bit like an accountant dressed in drag. The guide took us along, telling us that if we used our imagination there were lots of formations of various animals and scenes in the cave, such as a crocodile, a dragon and a sexy woman.  This took a lot of imagination to see, and would have been a lot easier if we were on LSD I am sure. After this enlightening experience, we were hurried back on the boat for another short ride before we got to our next activity- kayaking.

Again, it was kayaking as promised, but expectation vs reality kicked in. The kayaking was only in a designated area the size of a large pond and a couple of archways, and we arrived to find that quite a few other boats were there doing exactly the same. We had to wait for a kayak to become free, and were then allowed 30 minutes to paddle around the designated area before returning to the boat. Jonno and I had a kayak between us, I sat at the front and Jonno at the back. We paddled through one archway and found ourselves in a peaceful area surrounded by rocks, so stopped paddling to appreciate the silence and peacefulness. We spotted what looked like an eagle flying over ahead, which was miraculous, although we’re not bird experts so it may have just been a fancy pigeon. Then, for reasons completely unknown to me, Jonno decided that this was the perfect time to start rehearsing for the circus and he could start with standing up and balancing on the back of the kayak. One moment we were appreciating the serenity, and the next moment I was thrown out of my seat and into the water, luckily not having anything electronic on me and managing to catch my sunglasses. While we both struggle to try and turn the kayak the right way up, Jonno then exclaims that one of his shoes has come off in the water, so starts wading around to try and find it. The bottom of the water was not deep, but was covered in sharp jagged rocks and thick slimy mud, which meant that we managed to cut up our feet and the lost shoe seemed to be swallowed by the mud and was lost forever. So we gave up on the shoe, and instead put our concentration into getting back into the kayak- easier said than done. Every time we tried to turn the kayak upright, it was filled with water and was too heavy to lift out of the water to drain. We fought with the kayak for about ten minutes before realizing there was only five minutes until we had to be back on the boat. So we climbed into the bath that was our kayak, and started to paddle back to the dock. The mass of water in the kayak, however, meant that it kept trying to overturn itself, and every slight movement wobbled us dangerously on each side. With a lot of effort, we managed to pull up to the dock, where we were interrogated by the guide about why us and the kayak were no longer dry. We then hobbled back onto our boat, one shoe lighter.

Views were not so bad...

We then had a short period of time on the boat before we were summoned to the ‘sunset party’ on the top deck, which was held at about 4pm, two hours from sunset. We were given a complimentary shot of red wine, and a big plate of watermelon. Jonno saw it and said to the guide ‘Aaah…Vietnamese Ice Cream!’ The guide then looked at him, frowning, and said ‘No, it’s watermelon”. Of course, silly Jonno.

We were then told that we could go swimming around the boat, which seemed like a nice way to cool down as we had now dried out from our previous dip in the water. We climbed down the ladder at the side of the boat, and were immediately hit with the current which was pushing us back towards the boat. We either had to constantly swim away from the boat to stay in the same place, or cling onto the ladder to stop drifting away. After about 10 minutes, a few members of the group started scrambling back up the ladder onto the boat, and soon after that I noticed a lovely layer of black, oily scum floating on the top of the water that was beginning to surround us, and promptly followed suit of exiting the water.

After a much needed shower/dribble of water from the shower head, we got changed and went back up to the top deck to watch the actual sunrise, before going back downstairs for dinner. When dinner had finished, the guide then told us the rules for the 2 hours of free beer which was basically that we got a jug for each table and could fill it up ourselves from a big barrel. Let the games commence.

I awoke the next morning pouring with sweat; they had cut the electricity in the rooms so there was no fan or air con and the sun was blazing through the windows. After getting dressed and checking out quickly to escape the heat, we went up to the restaurant for a predictably disappointing breakfast. We made a short journey to an island where half of the group got off; they were doing a three day trip, and some more people got on the boat. As we made our way back to the port to get our bus to Hanoi, we were given a ‘cooking class’  which was basically rolling the pre prepared spring roll mixture in soggy rice paper. The boat then stopped and we got off, were herded onto a minibus and had another four hour journey back to Hanoi.

Just like making fajitas but more asian

We had been researching the best way to get around Vietnam, as we had limited time and lots to see and do. Buses were the cheapest option but they take the most time. The trains looked really good but were actually quite expensive, and it turns out that internal flights can be a lot cheaper than the trains. So we decided to treat ourselves and take a flight to our next destination.

All our photos from Hanoi can be found here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/132802327@N02/albums/72157659433444693

All our photos from Halong Bay can be found here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/132802327@N02/albums/72157661060948519

Vang Vieng

Sleepy eyed, we emerged from the bus at 5am onto a deserted road in Vang Vieng. After a check of the map, we discovered that the main guest house area was only a 15 minute walk away. So despite the tuk tuk driver's protests, us, the Italian couple and another guy from Holland began walking along the dark road, Jonno with his phone in hand to be the map reader. A few meters down the road and I heard some angry mutterings behind me. I turned around to find Jonno trying to pick up his phone from the floor- it had come out of its case and fallen on the road, causing the screen to smash. If he wasn't so tired I would have moved out of the way quickly in case he turned into a rampaging bull, but instead he just tried to brush off the loose bits of broken glass to try and see the rest of the map. We arrived at the road where the guest houses began, tried one but it was full, tried another but they wanted to charge us extra for an early check in, and then tried a third which, like goldilocks also discovered, was just right. We hopped into bed and got a few hours more sleep before trying to work out the extent of the damage of Jonno's poor phone.

It turned out that part from the screen everything else was working okay, but with the chance of finding somewhere to repair the screen being very slim, it looked like new phone purchase was in order, Not only that, but part of my screen had also stopped responding a few days before, so in fact we needed two new phones. A bit of a pain but at least we have been under budget for most days and we were sure to find some cheap phones in Southeast Asia. 

Poor phone!

The town of Vang Vieng is most well known for something called Tubing, which is effectively going down a river with beautiful scenery in a rubber ring. However, it was not this aspect that has attracted so many tourists and travellers, but the fact that all along the river were bars and pubs, with very cheap drinks and often giving out free shots. Added onto that the bars had constructed swings and platforms that the wasted tourists could jump from into the river, plus a very strong current, and it’s no wonder that in 2011 alone 27 people died while tubing. The government decided in 2012 that this many tourists dying might not be a very good thing, and so ordered the bars to close down except for a couple who then were supposed to have lots of restrictions put upon them. This has meant that far less people now visit, and the town is left with lots of bars that are pretty much deserted.

 A good article on the effect of the tubing on Vang Vieng:

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/apr/07/vang-vieng-laos-party-town

However, never fear, because another group of people have shown a great interest in Vang Vieng. A Korean company decided to do a programme/advert in Vang Vieng, to which the Koreans responded by flocking there in huge numbers, often in matching t-shirts or wearing life jackets and extreme sports wear while walking down the high street in town. So the town now has a new purpose. 

We weren’t quite sure what our reason for going was, more out of curiosity than anything else probably, as to what this strange mix of deserted bars with big groups of Koreans walking past would be like. So when we felt a bit more rested, we went out to explore.

It was pretty much as described, and we spent a while wandering the streets, stopping every couple of hours for a fruit shake as the weather was pretty hot. One cafe we found played a constant roll of 'Friends', to which the cafe over the road saw that this was good for business so they too began playing 'Friends'. Nothing like being surrounded by traditional culture.

In the evening we found a pizza restaurant and decided to treat ourselves to some western food. Alongside the menu came another page of writing, describing all sorts of drugs they could slip into food or drink for you, including the happy pizza which was a special kind of mushroom pizza. Behind us a group of guys were laughing hysterically, I have no idea why.

We had heard that Vang Vieng was also good for seeing caves and waterfalls, not that we hadn’t seen many of these already but it gave us something to do. Apparently there was one where you could rent a tube as the cave was filled with water, and float through it. This sounded a bit different, so we thought we would give it a go. We rented another horrendous semi-automatic bike for a day and set off with a written set of directions from a travel website.

The directions said the cave would be about 15 km out of town and there would be a sign for the 'water cave', but 45 minutes in and there was still no sign to be seen. We assumed we missed the sign so turned back, but we arrived back in town again and had seen no sign on the way back either. We tried asking a few of the locals but they spoke no English and shook their head when we said 'water cave'- it did not say what it might be called in Lao and we hadn't looked it up. So we decided to head back towards the hotel to find some Wi-Fi to look it up, and once we had the Lao name for the water cave we set off again. After what was about 15km and still no sign we stopped and asked another local who pointed us in the direction- it was around the place we had turned around earlier. 

Along the way we saw another sign for a cave, which we thought we might as well check out. After parking up, the signs lead us across a tiny wobbly bridge over the river and down some more path. We had to go past one of the tubing bars which was still open which was basically deserted but with loud dance music playing anyway, and soon after we came to the entrance. We paid an entrance ticket, were handed 2 torches and pointed in the direction of up. After a 20 minute climb we reached the cave, which seemed to have nobody else in it. The climb down into the cave was steep and slippery, and it was almost completely dark except for our torch lights and the faint light of the cave entrance in the distance. The centre of the cave had a large pool of water in it, and while leaping between rocks sticking out of the water we almost expected to find a Horcrux or at least Dumbledore down there. 

We climbed back up, found the bike again and carried on until we finally spotted a tiny sign with 'water cave' written on it, and turned into the dirt road to get there. Unfortunately, it being the rainy season, this wasn’t as easy as it should have been to drive down this road and again we were faced with huge muddy puddles that spanned across the whole path and we slipped and slid through them, feeling very unsteady on an already unreliable bike.

We got to what looked like an entrance booth on a bridge, and assuming it was the entrance to the cave just across the bridge, we parked the bike and paid the 2 pounds to get in. We were not sure what to do with my bag and where to get the tube from but we guessed it would be just around the corner. After crossing the bridge and walking a bit further, we realised that we had just paid for the bridge crossing and nothing else. We carried on a bit further and came to a small village with a signpost for some caves. Not being too sure which one was the water cave, we asked a rugged looking guy who had been following us for about 5 minutes. Expecting him to point to a direction, he beckoned us and started walking, so we followed. We followed him through a village, through some rice paddies and down some more paths, where we passed a few water) pipes draining out into the ground and he exclaimed 'waterfall!' and found this extremely funny. After another few minutes we reached a big sign for the water cave. This was obviously a popular spot for the Korean tourists, as there were swarms of them here. We asked where the entrance for the water cave was, and were told that unfortunately the water cave had too much water so was closed at the moment. If we wanted to we could visit a different cave where you could wade through some water. This didn't really sound as appealing, so we turned around and started back towards the bike. The rugged man began following us now, asking for some payment for bringing us here, even though he knew it was closed and could have told us this in the first place. So we picked up the pace, and walked as quickly as we could back through the fields and back to the bike. Not a great success considering we had spent half of the day searching for a place that wasn't accessible anyway. 

The other destination on our list for the day was a place called 'blue lagoon'. Apparently it was a beautiful place to chill out and swim, which sounded pretty good to us as we were now hot and tired. To get there, we had to drive all the way back through town, and then follow a path there. We managed to get back to town okay, and eventually found the direction to the lagoon. We had to cross a bridge first, which was a wooden structure which had two raised planks on each side and a lower plank in the middle. Before you got on the bridge a split second decision needed to be made as to which path to take- the raised planks were narrower so you had to keep the bike in a perfectly straight line. The lower one was wider but put you at risk of oncoming traffic as it was right in the middle. Jonno chose the centre one, which was fine until he thought he saw a vehicle coming towards us, and tried to swerve to the side. Unfortunately this didn't go as smoothly as intended, the bike wheel did not manage the step up side on, and the bike came sliding the floor, bringing us down with it. Luckily we were only on a wooden bridge, so only came out with a few bruises and the bike wasn't that damaged, but it did shake us up for a bit. But we didn’t have much time and had to continue to the lagoon. Another issue- we were a bit low on fuel, but it seemed like it would be enough to get us there and back as we didn’t think it would be too far.

The path was a lot longer than expected and the conditions deteriorated fairly rapidly, turning into another deadly slippery mud slide where we had to try and weave around to find the best parts of the road which was generally pretty bad anyway. We finally reached the lagoon entrance, and had either come at the wrong time of year or it had been falsely advertised- it seemed more of an oversized brown puddle. Nevertheless, we had struggled a lot to get here so we just wanted to chill for a bit. This was another popular spot for the Koreans, and a gaggle of them were crowded around one part, where a tree branch was hanging over the water and some of them were taking turns to tentatively jump off it into the water, while the others make a loud 'oooooooo' sound. 

What the Blue Lagoon apparently was supposed to look like...

....VS what it was actually like

Koreans jumping from trees

There were some huts by the side of the water, we claimed one for our own and I went to test out the water. I slid down the muddy bank into the swirling brown liquid, and soon realised if I didn't keep swimming against the current then I would be carried off with it. Our entrance ticket also allowed us access to the on-site cave, so we thought we might as well heck it out. After another sweaty climb we reached it, and it turned out to be a fairly disappointing one- a big hole in a rock.

Standard cave

We then looked at the time and realized that 1) The area would be closing in about 5 minutes, and 2) It would be getting dark in about half an hour and we had the horrendous road to tackle again, and we didn’t need the added difficulty of doing it in darkness. So we hurried back down the rocks and hopped back on the bike. Our fuel gauge was now on empty, and there was nowhere that looked even remotely like it would sell fuel down the dirt tracks, so this added another element of stress that we might run out at any minute and have to wheel the bike 12km to the nearest road.

I can safely say this was definitely not one of my favourite bike experiences, and even though Jonno had mentioned a few days prior that the idea of dirt biking appealed to him, he was pretty stressed too. The few times I looked to the sides I could see some amazing scenery and a beautiful sunset, but there was no time to stop and appreciate it and we were definitely not in the right frame of mind for looking at scenery. We just wanted to make it back. Then the fuel gauge went below the ‘E’ and I was convinced the bike would sputter to a halt at any minute, but miraculously it made it through and we reached the road and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Another two minutes down the road and we were back at the scooter rental place, hoping they wouldn’t notice that the wing mirror was slightly out of place from where we came off (luckily they didn’t).

The following day we had planned to give the tubing a try, even though we were not going to be getting wasted at the bars along the river we thought a gentle drift down the river would be quite nice. We walked into town and went to find the tube rental area. We discovered that the price of the tube rental was more than we initially expected (about 5 pounds per tube with a 10 pound deposit) and we would have to pay extra to rent a waterproof bag. They were selling mini waterproof bags over the road for a lot cheaper so we decided to buy one of those and leave the rest of the things at the guest house. As I went upstairs to put the things in the room, Jonno stayed in the reception area and started talking to the Italian couple that we had met on the bus about what they had been doing in Vang Vieng. I came back down and joined in the conversation, and soon we had settled into chairs next to them and made ourselves a coffee from the free machine. They had been travelling for almost a year, and worked for a while in Australia, which we wanted a bit more information on. They brought down their bags from their room to check out, and we were amazed at how little they had with them- the size of their main luggage was about the same size of our smaller backpacks. We asked them their secret, and basically it was just that they didn’t have anything! Any warm clothes they used in Australia they gave away, and left themselves with basically 3 changes of clothes. After seeing that it can be done, we did try to be ruthless and throw some things in our luggage out, but still have not achieved anything near that small!

After a few more hours of chatting, we were all ready for lunch and seeing as it was probably too late to start tubing, we decided just to stay with the Italian couple and have lunch with them. We have spoken to a few people since who went tubing, apparently it was good for getting extremely drunk but the bars tried to keep people there so they would miss the 6pm deadline to return the tubes and have to lose their deposit. Also we were told that it was pretty scary at times as the current was so strong and people narrowly missed colliding with rocks, so we probably chose the safer option! So even though the government have tried to put restrictions in place it was obviously still a problem. We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing, and booked our next bus to Vientiane for the next morning. We were not that taken with Vang Vieng really, mostly because we are neither Korean nor the kind of people that go out and get wasted every night, so it was time to move on. 

(Apologies for the lack of photos, the ones on my phone did not get saved on the laptop before it was sent home and we didn't get chance to take many photos while negotiating the muddy tracks on the bike)

Nong Khiaw

After a three hour minibus journey, we were dropped off in Nong Khiaw and went in search of a guest house. We had done a bit of research and had a few recommendations which were over the bridge. After a 15 minute walk we reached the bridge, and were just about to cross it when a woman shouted out ‘you need room?’ We checked it out, and it seemed pretty nice, with a large communal balcony overlooking the river and the price was very good too. We discovered later that even though it was lovely to have a room right by the river, we were also contending for space with armies of ants, woodlice and various other bug life, who marched up and down walls, all over the floor and even snuck into bed with us. Apart from this though, it was a nice place and run by a lovely family who even though they barely spoke a word of English were extremely welcoming.

Our hotel on the right

The view from the river

We still had half a day left, so took a wander through the town. On our side of the bridge was the actual village, a sleepy place which was mostly made up of dusty corner shops and houses. On the other side was the tourist road- plenty of guest houses and restaurants with different types of cuisine. As we were visiting in the low season, there were a few other tourists around but the place was not overrun, which suited us just fine. Most of the people we passed were villagers lazing around outside their shops, and as we walked down the street we passed hens and chickens nesting in the grass and groups of ducks waddling along. And the scenery- Amazing. Everywhere you looked was equally or more beautiful than where you looked before- lush, forest covered hills with a swirling rushing river weaving through them. It was so easy to get lost in a daydream while admiring it. Anyway, enough with the nature porn. Just a bit further than the tourist strip there was a sign pointing to a viewpoint, and assuming that the scenery would be as good or even better, it seemed like a good place to go. However, we reached the bottom and discovered that it was closed as the weather had not been good and it had rained for the previous few days so it was not safe. Oh well, another time.

We carried on further down the road for another half an hour, and found another sign to some caves which we followed. We paid an entrance fee, and as we started walking, a small scruffy boy popped out from nowhere and started to lead the way through the swampy paths, leaping across streams and hopping over logs. We stumbled after him, and eventually reached some very steep and narrow steps leading up to the cave. It was very dark inside, and we can only assume it was used in a war as some kind of shelter as there were signs saying officer and sergeant on posts around the cave. Behind us, we heard a wheezing noise and turned around to find an older American man had also entered the cave, having obviously struggled over the same obstacle course we had but with less mobility and stamina (it didn't help that he was smoking a cigarette at the time), being led by another small boy. As we continued through the cave we had to keep stopping and checking he hadn't collapsed and had a heart attack, and even though some bits were difficult and we offered him support, he refused and continued to struggle. When we had seen the cave, the boys were eager to point out there was a second cave, and we agreed to visit that too. Back down the steep steps and through some more muddy swamp, this cave was even more difficult than the first, with big rocks to climb up and tiny tunneled areas where we had to get down on hands and knees. And instead of the small boys assessing the situation with a less mobile member of the group, they encouraged us through difficult places which just took us in a circle. After having to turn back on ourselves a few times as we did not want to put ourselves too much at risk when there was no way any medical help would be around quickly, we left the cave and waded back to the main road.

A steep climb up

...because I'm a caveman!

We got back to the town, and passed a few organized tour agencies and wanted to ask about any treks that were happening. We hadn't decided we definitely wanted to do one, but it was more as an enquiry into how viable one would be in the middle of the rainy season when most of the paths that were not the main roads we had been down had been covered in thick, slippery mud. So we went into one of the agencies, and the guy told us that even though the paths may be a little muddy it would be perfectly fine for a trek and actually he had a group going on a two day trek the following day who we could join and it would be a discounted price because there were already a few of them going. We got the details and said we would have a think about it but we would return that evening (he said he closed at 8pm) and let him know what we would do. So we had a think about it and even though we were a bit apprehensive we decided we would give it a go. However, just as we were about to leave the hotel the power went out around the town, and when we reached the agency it was closed up with nobody around to book it with, so we had to give up on the idea of a trek the following day. We found an Indian restaurant for dinner with some pretty authentic Indian food which we had been missing after four months of living on it and it made a nice change to noodles, and returned to the guest house where the bugs had been so kindly minding the room for us.

The cat that wouldn't leave us alone- he had heard the saying and saw we had some cream that was rightfully his.

The following morning we made a second attempt at going up to the viewpoint, and after passing our American cave friend who reported he had just been up there, we reckoned it had reopened (We asked him if it was worth the climb and he wheezed ‘just about’). But when we got there, they turned us away and said it was still not safe. So instead we had a lazy day, a very easy thing to do in Nong Khiaw. We also bumped into the tour agent who we had tried to find the evening before, and he told us that he could arrange a trek for us for the day after, although the price would be a bit higher if there was only two of us. Having checked at a few other agencies and being told there were no other groups already booked for a tour the next day, we agreed to go with our original agent and booked a two day trek for the next day. As we were crossing the bridge back to our guest house, there was a group of small boys riding bikes up and down the bridge. One of them waved so we said ‘hello!’ and as another one rode past us, he shouted ‘fuck you!’ So lovely that these small children were learning English…

The next day we were up early and ready for our trek. We met the guide at the agency, found out it was still only us two on the trek, and were driven to the start of the trek by the agent. As we started walking away from him in his flashy car, he shouted after us- “be careful!”

And that’s when things started to get interesting in the muddiest sense. The guide had pretty poor English, but managed to explain to us that he had arranged for a local village guy to accompany us on the trek too as he did not feel safe without him. We picked up the village guy who was wearing sandals and carrying a machete, and within 5 minutes of walking we came across a small river. Can’t go over it, can’t go under it, so we only had one option- so in we went, and even Jonno’s waterproof trekking boots couldn’t save him from the water pouring over the top of his shoes. We got to the other side of the river, squelching as we walked. With two full days of trekking still ahead of us and our shoes soaking wet, we were pretty convinced we were both getting trench foot. A short while later, the guide announced that he was hanging back as he needed the toilet, and he would catch us up. Ten minutes of walking later and he still hadn’t caught us up, so we started to get a bit worried and stopped to wait for him. Another ten minutes, and we had just about come to terms with the fact he was probably dead, he emerged from the bushes, apologising that he was a while but he had a very spicy breakfast this morning. Nice. We then heard the story of how his brother had died about ten times, each time being just as difficult to understand in his very basic English, until we stopped for a rest break. While we were resting, we heard some noises coming from the path we had just been on and another group emerged with one guide and seven tourists, who we started up conversations with.

The next hour was a bit more challenging, as we went through muddy areas and had a few climbs. We stopped for lunch, which was some fried rice in a polystyrene box, and the guide then told us that the next part would take about two hours. What he should have said is that it would take two hours until we were exhausted and broken, and then it would be another two hours after that. The climbs were steep, which we were fairly used to but we had not had the added element of the whole path being a huge mudslide before.

Waiting for our path to be cleared

Our shoes didn't stay clean for long!

After lunch, the guide assured us that there was only a short muddy bit before the flat path, and we were foolish enough to believe him. It got worse and worse, with steep inclines through jungle areas and no solid land. The local guide had cut us down some bamboo to use as walking poles, so once we had stabbed it into the thick sludge, we could cling onto it for dear life while we negotiated each slippery step. Our feet were so weighed down with the mud that they had accumulated that it felt like we had metal chains attached. And each time we lifted our feet from the mud it would fight to suck them down further. All our energy and concentration was put into staying upright, which failed on more than one occasion. 

Meanwhile, the local guide was merrily skipping and leaping ahead of us with bare feet.

The rivers we had to wade through had leeches in, we had quite a few that attached to our ankles and we had to pull them off, sometimes only realising when they had already started taking blood and it began to sting. After a few hours of trudging through the sludge, I had lost all motivation and my hands and feet had no strength left in them, but there was no other option but to keep going.

When we finally reached the homestay village at 6.30pm we were so relieved and were welcomed by some cold coca cola which had never tasted so good. The homestay was in a small, simple village with chickens and ducks waddling around aimlessly, and children playing at the front of the huts while the elderly watched over them. Once Jonno had taken out his phone however, chaos ensued and a mob of children ran towards him chanting 'game! game!'. He dutifully opened up some kind of racing game and started playing it so they could watch. They all squealed in delight and huddled around him closer, making car revving and screeching noises. Eventually they got bored, and soon after we were joined by the other trekking group who were also staying at the same place and were equally as exhausted. 

The homes at the village

Village children

We were then taken for a 'shower' which was basically an oversized puddle, where we could wash ourselves and our shoes. I wouldn’t say it was the most clean I had ever felt afterwards, but it was nice to get the worst of the dirt off.

We returned to the huts and the guide from the other group then produced a bottle of 'lao-lao', a lethal spirit made from rice whiskey and we had to take turns with the one shot glass, passing it around the table. We were getting fairly hungry by that point, and somebody asked "what's for dinner?". The reply from the guide was "duck", and sure enough soon after one of the women from the village selected one of the blissfully unaware wandering ducks, picked it up by its feet and carried it off, returning some moments later with a bowl. At least we knew it was free range and fresh. Then we feasted on boiled duck and duck's blood (not the tastiest thing ever) and green leafy vegetables with sticky rice. We chatted for a while with the people from the other group and had an early night as we could hardly keep our eyes open. 

Lao Lao- what everyone needs after a hard days trekking

'Cheers!' or 'Nyock!'

Not a lucky duck

In the morning we awoke to some energy giving 3 in 1 coffees and breakfast. The other group were trekking to a waterfall that day whilst we were going to visit a village on the river, so we said goodbye to them, put out still soaking wet shoes on (not the most pleasant sensation), and set off. We were dreading another day of wading through mud, but luckily the start of the route was mostly an established path and was nowhere near as muddy. After a steep walk uphill, we were rewarded with some beautiful views, had a quick stop off at another village, and then entered another jungle area just as we were getting used to the nicer paths. More wading through streams, more plucking off leeches and more mud ensued, until finally we reached the river and found a boat waiting for us.

One of the less muddy paths

Such a beautiful place

Relieved to sit down, we had a short ride up the river to the next village where we were due to trek up to the viewpoint and visit some caves along the way. As we neared the village, some locals who were going the other way on their boats stopped to tell our driver something. He then pretended to turn the boat around but went 360 degrees and carried on. The guide said that three people had died from the village (it took us a while to work out if he was saying died or dived, so for a while there was an air of uncertainty). We weren’t quite sure of the relevance to our journey or if there was any more to the story, but we nodded and made 'mm-hmm' noises accordingly. 

We got off at the village, which we expected to be rural and basic as the homestay village was. Instead, we were accosted by many people asking us if we wanted accommodation, and signs for lots of restaurants with happy hours. There weren’t many tourists around to fill the rooms but the village seemed ready for them. The main road, however, was not in the greatest condition and we had to tiptoe around the sides to avoid the large swampy areas. The guide then took us towards the viewpoint on another extremely muddy path, which he insisted would be open even though we had questioned him as the one in Nong Khiaw was closed. Surprise, surprise, the viewpoint was closed. The guide started flapping and asked us what we wanted to do instead. By this point, we were so tired and muddy that the only thing we wanted to do was have a shower and crash out on a bed, so we said we didn't mind going back. At first he began protesting about this, as he said he wanted us to have a good time and thought we would be upset if we didn't do another activity, and we had to convince him that actually we really did just want to go back. We returned to the boat, but had one more stop at another village before we were allowed to go back to Nong Khiaw. The boat stopped again and the guide told us to have a look around the village while he stayed in the boat. Jonno disembarked first and seeing some flat land, went to stand on it to wait for me to get off. Instead, he found himself plunging knee deep into a pit of mud and had to struggle to get back to more stable ground.

The village high street- somebody needs to have words with the council

We just couldn't get enough of this wonderful mud

Once we had negotiated more mud, we got to the village, which seemed the same as the other villages and with no guide present to explain much, it didn't capture our interest much and after a quick look around we returned to the boat.

We were dropped off in Nong Khiaw, and had to pass the tour company before going to the guest house. We were greeted by the travel agent who had arranged the tour, who asked how the trek went. As I was tired and fed up, I told him exactly how it went and that trekking through that much mud on steep slopes was not safe or enjoyable and he should have been more honest about the conditions rather than assuring us it would be fine, so we could have made a more informed decision. The agent looked like he was going to cry, and apologised and told us if we wanted they would pay for us to go to the Nong Khiaw viewpoint the next day, and we should come back later for a beer to discuss it. We then headed back to the hotel, where it was such a relief to have a shower and put clean, dry clothes on.

Having a break in a hut

One of the travel blogs we had read had recommended a place where they offer 'herbal steam baths', which sounded like just what we needed. It turned out to be a basic, small steam room and we had probably done enough sweating already for the day but it did feel quite refreshing afterwards. We had to return to the guesthouse for another shower (we know, we did it in the wrong order!), and then walked back into town. We decided to take the tour agent up on the offer of beer, and he seemed relieved that we hadn't returned to have another rant at him. He brought us our truce beers and we chatted to him for a while about his life and family. He also offered us some dinner, but we declined and thanked him. On our way to find some dinner, we spotted the other trekking group and joined them for some drinks to end the day.

We felt we deserved a chill day after the trek, and of course we had to spend a long time trying to wash the mud out of our clothes and shoes- and came across more leeches that were hiding out in Jonno’s socks. We also looked into where to go next, and decided on getting a night bus to Vang Vieng, a place with mixed reviews, for the following day. We booked this with our good old friend the tour agent, who told us the bus can get here between 5pm and 7pm, and even though it was often late it might be a good idea to arrive just before 5 in case.

After we had checked out our bags from the guest house the following day, we had a bit of hanging around which wasn’t too painful as the owner of the guest house said we could sit on the balcony overlooking the river for a while. Just before 5pm we arrived at the tour office where the bus was due to pick us up, and began waiting. The tour agent was not there as it was his day off but his wife was there and one of their friends who was a teacher hoping to make some extra money by covering the office. We sat and spoke with him for a while, keeping an eye out on the road for the bus to arrive.

7pm came and went, and we weren’t too surprised that it might be later than 7. Then 8. This was a bit annoying but at least we would arrive at Vang Vieng at a sociable hour. The tour agent came back at 8.30 and was fairly surprised to see us there still waiting, so he tried to call the bus but there was no answer. We watched people walking up and down the street, and talked to the agent guy about nothing in particular. A couple stopped by to ask about the bus to Vang Vieng, and we jokingly said that we might be on their one the next day if we had to continue waiting.

At 10pm the agent got some beers out and said maybe the bus wasn’t coming so we might as well have a few drinks. We were joined by an Indian man who owned a restaurant across the road, who brought some crisps and snacks. The agent brought out his ipad for some music, and the tour office had magically transformed into a bar. We had completely given up hope that the bus would ever arrive, and instead found our glasses being continuously filled with more beer. The agent also had some accommodation at the back of the office, so we ended up dragging our bags into one and crashing there.

We awoke in the morning and realized we now had almost a whole day extra in Nong Khiaw to fill. As we had recovered from the trekking and it had not rained in a few days, we decided to go and see if the viewpoint was now open- which it was. The sign at the bottom said it should take about an hour and 45 minutes in total, so it couldn’t be that bad, right?

What we hadn’t realized is how humid it was, and with the sun searing down and almost no breeze this was a challenge. We must have sweated twice our own bodyweight in the walk up, and the climb was steep and also in a foresty area so we were constantly being attacked by mosquitos. We also had the added bonus of feeling a little rough from the beer the night before. After what seemed like a lifetime of an uphill struggle, with one of us exclaiming ‘we must be almost there!’ every 5 minutes, we finally reached the top, which was a little wooden hut perched on the top of a mountain. The scenery was so beautiful we instantly forgot the difficulty of the walk there. We were surrounded with lush green mountains, and could see the river running through the village of Nong Khiaw beneath us.

After a while of appreciating the beautiful scenery, we walked back down the mountain which wasn’t quite as difficult but still pretty sweaty, and went to find somewhere for lunch. We walked for a while and came across a quiet, empty local shack with tables which thankfully had a menu in English. The woman who owned it also had a little boy, who took great interest in the ‘Falang’ (white people) and after about 5 minutes of uncertainty, then came over to share his toys with us. When we came to say goodbye, he then started crying because he didn’t want to loose his new friends. Usually we make local children cry because our strange faces terrify them, so this was a first for us.

Round and round the garden like a teddy bear...

We still had a few hours to wait, and we had seen a café that did takeaway baguettes which would be good for the bus journey, so we walked over to there and ordered two baguettes and a dessert to eat there. The owner, a European man, seemed to think this was a great ordeal to make 2 sandwiches as the lady who normally makes them had left 30 minutes before. After a fair bit of complaining, he finally agreed to make them and when he heard that we were due to get the Nong Khiaw bus, he said we had lots of time as it usually arrives a few hours late. We said we knew from the previous day how unreliable it could be. We sat and waited for a long time, all the while overhearing the European man ordering his staff around in Lao and every so often hearing the word ‘sandwich; in English in an exasperated tone- I think he was either telling them in very great detail how to make a sandwich, or having a moan about us coming in and asking him to make us a sandwich- unheard of for someone to ask for items on the menu.

6pm arrived and even though the man had not yet given us the sandwiches, we were in no hurry as we were pretty sure the bus wouldn’t be there for at least another hour. All of a sudden, we heard beeping and shouting coming from the road and the agent guy was outside in his car, shouting at us. Apparently the bus had arrived and was waiting for us. While Jonno rushed outside, I went to the kitchen to get the sandwiches, which were still not made, and the guy tried to fob us off by saying the bus would go past the café anyway and we could get the driver to stop and collect the sandwiches. I said I didn't think my Lao was anywhere near good enough to try and explain to the driver why he had to stop the bus. After a few minutes, the sandwiches were ready and we jumped into the agent’s car and sped away to the office where the bus was waiting. We got out of the car, were told that our bags were on the bus and luckily decided to check as they weren't, I was stopped by another tourist who wanted to ask where we were going and how we had booked it, which I definitely didn't have time to answer, boarded the bus and breathed a sigh of relief. On our way to the seats we passed the couple who had asked about the bus the night before, who looked pretty confused that we actually were on the same bus as them. The bus was fairly crowded and the aisles were filled with bags of rice and stacks of plastic chairs that we had to climb over, and definitely was not the most comfortable or luxurious bus we have taken. We had a few night time toilet stops which when I looked for a toilet, found nothing but lines of men and women squatting at the roadside, and had no other choice but to join in the procession. After a sleepless night, we stopped at 5am and were told this was Vang Vieng, our next stop.