Today, Darren and I enjoyed a wonderful day of motorcycle tourism, exploring the ancient city of Hué, but more on that soon.
A report recently came out (viewed on MSN) rating the most expensive provinces to live in Canada. As you might guess, BC was the top province on that list. Along with that report was also a list of the most expensive cities and Vancouver took the top spot as the most expensive city. According to that report homeowners in Vancouver required approximately 75% of their incomes to provide for their average living expenses; while, the homeowners of Toronto, which came is second, required approximately 50% of their incomes.
This evening we met a young man (23 yrs old), a waiter at a restaurant, who looked extremely exhausted. After having invited him to sit down with us (we were the only customers in the restaurant) we got to talking and discovered that he (like so many) is working “part-time” while trying to continue his university studies. His version of “part-time” was working 10 hours a day, every day. Most days he starts at 5 am and ends at 2 (working for a tour company), and he makes 50,000 VND a day (about $2-3). One month of courses for him, is 1 million VND ($50). (If he were to go to school full-time, it would take him 3 years to finish his studies in tourism.) His rent is 300,000 VND ($15) for a small room. On top of his rent, he also has to pay utilities and all the other expected living expenses we all incur. Basically, at the end of the month his “money is very small. Not so good”.
We did a little comparison. For one semester of school in BC, Nghia could go to school for 4-5 years; for one month of rent in Vancouver Nghia could go to school for over 1 year. (Education in Vietnam, by the way, is not free. Children/their families even have to pay for primary school.)
People in BC have long been advocating to raise minimum wage, claiming that the current $8 at full-time hours isn’t enough to pay for a person’s basic needs; and, with the latest numbers, that’s probably true. I wonder if anyone is advocating for the people in Vietnam, since they don’t have the opportunity to vote and choose their own government. Or, like our friend Nghia, maybe they’ve come to accept their only option and work like dogs to get by. In any case, how is it that our one city has become so expensive, while cities on the other side of the world could survive for an entire year on what we do for a month? There are a million and one things to consider, but it all just seems rather amazing to me.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
34 Hours.
On Monday, October 4th at approximately 1500 hrs Darren and I boarded a bus from Cat Ba to the port. At 1600 hrs we boarded a boat from the port to Haiphong. At 1645 hrs we got off the boat and onto another bus which was to take us to the long distance bus station. At 1730 hrs we arrived at the long distance bus station. After watching a man pee in a canal and then continue to wash his face, hands, and feet in the same place he had just peed we boarded a bus to Hue at 1930 hrs-- expected arrival time: 0730 hrs Tuesday, October 5th. At 0500 hrs Tuesday, October 5th, the bus stopped in the middle of Ky Anh (which we discovered much later). At 0730 hrs everyone got off the bus, washed their faces, brushed their teeth and ate breakfast. At approximately 0900 hrs, we re-boarded the bus. At 1100 hrs after I had finished my book and the bus had not yet moved, I got off. At 1130 hrs everyone (our bus plus the other two that had arrived) ate lunch. At 1200 hrs we figured out what was going on. Flooding (at this point it had been raining for 6-8 hrs). At 1400 hrs we watched "I Love You, Man". At 1600 hrs we finished watching "I Love You, Man" and tried to see if we could hire a car or find a flight from a nearby city. At 1630 hrs, after many "do you speak English"es, no luck. At 1700 hrs we began watching "How To Train Your Dragon". At 1720 hrs, we got back on the bus. We proceeded to drive through what can only be described as small lakes, while watching people push their cars and motorcycles through the waist high water. At 2300 hrs we stopped for dinner (20km away from Hue). At 2330 we got back on the bus. At 0005 hrs we and are soaked bags arrived in Hue. At 0010 hrs we straddled the backs of some strangemen and their motorbikes. At 0025 hrs we arrived at a hotel and the driver of one of the bikes proceeded to shout and wake up the guard. At 0100 hrs we unpacked our wet bags, hung up our wet clothes and went to bed.
What does it all add up to? 34 hours of my life I will never get back, and 10 minutes of your life that you'll never get back!
What does it all add up to? 34 hours of my life I will never get back, and 10 minutes of your life that you'll never get back!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
"I Feel Like A Pirate"
One of the staple things to do in the Cat Ba/Halong Bay area is to take a boat around the bay, either for a day trip of kayaking and swimming, or for an overnight cruise amongst the karst cliffs. We opted for the overnight cruise. 2 days, 1 night, and not five minutes from the dock and Darren said, "I feel like a pirate". It was a great experience and we definitely lucked out with some amazing weather and managed to redeem our fading tans.
The two days consisted mostly of sitting on the top deck of the boat, riding from one location to the next. Stops would include kayaking amidst and under the karst cliffs, swimming on empty, white sand beaches and, having dinner with Vietnemese naval captains!
Throughout the bays there are all of these small fishing villages that live entirely on the water. Many of them also double as small fish farms, and these small floating communities are clustered all over the place. It was on one of these small fish farm living spaces that we docked for the night. The "captain" of our boat, also a former captain of the Vietnemese Navy, invited us to dine with some of his friends. Our company for the evening consisted of 2 naval captains from Haiphong (a nearby port city), a captain from Cat Ba (the island we had been staying on), amongst other naval officers. Before we even started to eat, the captain (from Cat Ba) began pouring us shots of the local whisky. Not wanting to be rude or refuse we kept with their customs. Unfortunately (but not detrimentally), it seemed their custom to take a shot with every new comer to the table. This wasn't weak store bought liqueur they were pouring us, it was home made rice whisky which was contained in any sort of bottle (there was a bottle of green tea, a bottle of vodka, and small jug that said "milk" on it). By 715 I was already asking them to pour me half shots, and by 730 and I was asking to be poured nothing. It all happened so quickly and before we knew it, all our friends were red and flushed and I was feeling quite free to giggle in excess.
Once we finally began eating (more to balance out the ratio of whisky in our stomachs) something similar happened and food seemed to be in endless supply. The food our "captain" had cooked for us was already laid out on the table and more than enough (squid, egg, spring rolls, cucumber and tomato, rice, fried potatoes...). The first strange thing was when the Cat Ba captain began to feed us. At first he just put a spring roll in our bowls, and then rice. But then he did something very odd happened. When what I assume were the suboordinate/younger officers brought out some fish, the Cat Ba captain removed a piece with his chopsticks and held it above my mouth. He didn't just put food in my bowl but was actually putting food IN MY MOUTH! And then, just when I thought that was strange and uncomfortable (especially since I was the only woman on this floating accomodation) the Cat Ba captain proceeded to do the same to Darren, and eventually got around to doing it for everyone at the table, and more than once as the pluthera of seafood continued to expand. By the end of dinner we had been fed (amongst other things) fried fish, mussels, and barbecued prawns--all excellent! It was some of the best seafood we've had since Malaysia.
Despite having eaten and drunk as much as was humanly possible, and despite being more than content, the fun was not over yet. No fun-filled Vietnemese night could be complete without a round of karaoke and dancing, and I'm sure it would have been more than rude to decline. The great thing about Vietnemese karaoke (or any Asian form of entertainment for that matter), is that the television is often an old, small model-- in this case it was probably about a 19" television--but the stereo system takes up an entire room (and there isn't really any to spare when you're leaving on a floating house). The amp alone was bigger than the tv. So, with BLARING sound and a tiny tv the evening got started with some Vietnemese tunes! (At this point, our Cat Ba captain had gotten the hiccups quite badly and gone to sleep.) They were more than insistent that Darren and I be the main act and the songs they most longed to hear were "My Heart Will Go On", "Hotel California", "Hello", "Get Down" and anything by Michael Jackson (to name a few).
The night also included a friendly match of arm wrestling between Darren and one of the buffer naval officers. Poor Darren didn't stand a chance. The guy looked like he was barely trying and Darren looked like he was struggling vigorously. I think it was 930 when Darren and I finally gave up and when our Haiphong captain began dancing blissfully by himself. They all wished us a "happy" night and sleep and they place suddenly became very quiet.
The whole trip was pretty fantastic and getting to party with some high ranking locals was a treat. Our trip may have been a little more luxurious than that of a pirate, and there was no pillaging or treasure hunting, but Darren did scope out some good places to hide treasure if we ever find any.
The two days consisted mostly of sitting on the top deck of the boat, riding from one location to the next. Stops would include kayaking amidst and under the karst cliffs, swimming on empty, white sand beaches and, having dinner with Vietnemese naval captains!
Throughout the bays there are all of these small fishing villages that live entirely on the water. Many of them also double as small fish farms, and these small floating communities are clustered all over the place. It was on one of these small fish farm living spaces that we docked for the night. The "captain" of our boat, also a former captain of the Vietnemese Navy, invited us to dine with some of his friends. Our company for the evening consisted of 2 naval captains from Haiphong (a nearby port city), a captain from Cat Ba (the island we had been staying on), amongst other naval officers. Before we even started to eat, the captain (from Cat Ba) began pouring us shots of the local whisky. Not wanting to be rude or refuse we kept with their customs. Unfortunately (but not detrimentally), it seemed their custom to take a shot with every new comer to the table. This wasn't weak store bought liqueur they were pouring us, it was home made rice whisky which was contained in any sort of bottle (there was a bottle of green tea, a bottle of vodka, and small jug that said "milk" on it). By 715 I was already asking them to pour me half shots, and by 730 and I was asking to be poured nothing. It all happened so quickly and before we knew it, all our friends were red and flushed and I was feeling quite free to giggle in excess.
Once we finally began eating (more to balance out the ratio of whisky in our stomachs) something similar happened and food seemed to be in endless supply. The food our "captain" had cooked for us was already laid out on the table and more than enough (squid, egg, spring rolls, cucumber and tomato, rice, fried potatoes...). The first strange thing was when the Cat Ba captain began to feed us. At first he just put a spring roll in our bowls, and then rice. But then he did something very odd happened. When what I assume were the suboordinate/younger officers brought out some fish, the Cat Ba captain removed a piece with his chopsticks and held it above my mouth. He didn't just put food in my bowl but was actually putting food IN MY MOUTH! And then, just when I thought that was strange and uncomfortable (especially since I was the only woman on this floating accomodation) the Cat Ba captain proceeded to do the same to Darren, and eventually got around to doing it for everyone at the table, and more than once as the pluthera of seafood continued to expand. By the end of dinner we had been fed (amongst other things) fried fish, mussels, and barbecued prawns--all excellent! It was some of the best seafood we've had since Malaysia.
Despite having eaten and drunk as much as was humanly possible, and despite being more than content, the fun was not over yet. No fun-filled Vietnemese night could be complete without a round of karaoke and dancing, and I'm sure it would have been more than rude to decline. The great thing about Vietnemese karaoke (or any Asian form of entertainment for that matter), is that the television is often an old, small model-- in this case it was probably about a 19" television--but the stereo system takes up an entire room (and there isn't really any to spare when you're leaving on a floating house). The amp alone was bigger than the tv. So, with BLARING sound and a tiny tv the evening got started with some Vietnemese tunes! (At this point, our Cat Ba captain had gotten the hiccups quite badly and gone to sleep.) They were more than insistent that Darren and I be the main act and the songs they most longed to hear were "My Heart Will Go On", "Hotel California", "Hello", "Get Down" and anything by Michael Jackson (to name a few).
The night also included a friendly match of arm wrestling between Darren and one of the buffer naval officers. Poor Darren didn't stand a chance. The guy looked like he was barely trying and Darren looked like he was struggling vigorously. I think it was 930 when Darren and I finally gave up and when our Haiphong captain began dancing blissfully by himself. They all wished us a "happy" night and sleep and they place suddenly became very quiet.
The whole trip was pretty fantastic and getting to party with some high ranking locals was a treat. Our trip may have been a little more luxurious than that of a pirate, and there was no pillaging or treasure hunting, but Darren did scope out some good places to hide treasure if we ever find any.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Revealing Hanoi
As I was battling my way through the insane motorcycle traffic of this crowded city I saw a man sitting on the steps of a building, eating what I think was a sandwhich. You see, I can't really remember exactly what he was eating though I'm sure he was eating something, because I was distracted by the fact that this man was completely naked. Yup! Not a shred of clothing on this man. His manner and position was not in any way shamed. He was sitting as if completely comfortable, with no intention of concealing one shred of his very naked body, as if he were fully clothed.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Holy Hanoi!
After spending a few days in the Laos capital, Vientienne, Darren and I boarded a flight with Laos Airlines to make our way to Hanoi!
Something however, went terribly wrong. No, this doesn't have to do with the fact that Laos Airlines has one of the worst fatality rates of all the Asian airlines (a very comforting fact). No! After about an hour of flying, we somehow landed in China. Yup. China all over again. We went from the lovely, oh so quiet and pleasant Laos, where the people are kind and happy to talk to you and help you whenever and however they can despite any language barriers; to, the loud talking, spitting, more-motorcycles-in-one-given-area-then-is-humanly-possible, consistent honking city of... well... look at that... it's not China, it's Hanoi! Could've fooled me!
But seriously, there are so many motorcycles here it's like watching panick stricken rats running through sewage tunnels trying to escape the oncoming floods-- except there are no floods, just some sort of innate need to get from point A to point B as fast as possible, even if that means riding on the sidewalks and running over small old ladies on their bicycles. There are so many motorcyclists here that instead of side-street vendors selling souvenirs, they sell helmets. Helmets that look like Nike baseball hats, Louis Vuitton patterned hats, with Mickey Mouse designs, etc. I've never seen such fashionable helmets before in my life. Neither have I ever seen so many men doubling on motorcycles in matching helmets!
After taking over an hour to make our way through the herds of motorists, we very confusedly got out of the airport shuttle with a bunch of other confused tourists, in the middle of a busy intersection, with absolutely no idea where we were. We did manage to find some street signs which were hiding behind trees, and other, more important banners and signs. Once we established which busy intersection we fighting off motorcycles on, we still had no idea where we were going. So we hopped in a taxi and asked him to take us to a hotel (some guy at the airport had given us a brochure for his hotel) and even the driver had no idea where he we were going. Our driver definitely pulled out his cell phone the minute we told him where we needed to go, saying something in Vietnemese, and I'm pretty sure he was asking for directions. Once we got to a one way street, he basically told us to get out and walk at which point we discovered that we were still several blocks from where we wanted to be. Trying to walk through these streets is insane. There are warnings and instructions in our guide book about crossing the streets here, the last effort being to just find a local and follow him across the street.
So. Here we are. Afraid to leave our hotel room and re-enter the mass insanity of the streets of the Old Quarter. Just hearing the honking seems to raise my stress levels. I know it's only been two or three months since we were last in China, but I've been spoiled since then with calm and tranquility. But I can't hide in my air conditioned hotel room, equipped with fridge and satellite television forever... or can I?
Something however, went terribly wrong. No, this doesn't have to do with the fact that Laos Airlines has one of the worst fatality rates of all the Asian airlines (a very comforting fact). No! After about an hour of flying, we somehow landed in China. Yup. China all over again. We went from the lovely, oh so quiet and pleasant Laos, where the people are kind and happy to talk to you and help you whenever and however they can despite any language barriers; to, the loud talking, spitting, more-motorcycles-in-one-given-area-then-is-humanly-possible, consistent honking city of... well... look at that... it's not China, it's Hanoi! Could've fooled me!
But seriously, there are so many motorcycles here it's like watching panick stricken rats running through sewage tunnels trying to escape the oncoming floods-- except there are no floods, just some sort of innate need to get from point A to point B as fast as possible, even if that means riding on the sidewalks and running over small old ladies on their bicycles. There are so many motorcyclists here that instead of side-street vendors selling souvenirs, they sell helmets. Helmets that look like Nike baseball hats, Louis Vuitton patterned hats, with Mickey Mouse designs, etc. I've never seen such fashionable helmets before in my life. Neither have I ever seen so many men doubling on motorcycles in matching helmets!
After taking over an hour to make our way through the herds of motorists, we very confusedly got out of the airport shuttle with a bunch of other confused tourists, in the middle of a busy intersection, with absolutely no idea where we were. We did manage to find some street signs which were hiding behind trees, and other, more important banners and signs. Once we established which busy intersection we fighting off motorcycles on, we still had no idea where we were going. So we hopped in a taxi and asked him to take us to a hotel (some guy at the airport had given us a brochure for his hotel) and even the driver had no idea where he we were going. Our driver definitely pulled out his cell phone the minute we told him where we needed to go, saying something in Vietnemese, and I'm pretty sure he was asking for directions. Once we got to a one way street, he basically told us to get out and walk at which point we discovered that we were still several blocks from where we wanted to be. Trying to walk through these streets is insane. There are warnings and instructions in our guide book about crossing the streets here, the last effort being to just find a local and follow him across the street.
So. Here we are. Afraid to leave our hotel room and re-enter the mass insanity of the streets of the Old Quarter. Just hearing the honking seems to raise my stress levels. I know it's only been two or three months since we were last in China, but I've been spoiled since then with calm and tranquility. But I can't hide in my air conditioned hotel room, equipped with fridge and satellite television forever... or can I?
Saturday, September 25, 2010
"In the Vang Vieng Laos Tubing "
It's definitely one of those places you could get stuck in, and in more ways than one. Darren and I didn't intend to spend a lot of time here, and yet we find ourselves almost rushing ourselves off to the next destination. We've definitely gotten comfortable here.
Vang Vieng, the infamous town for tubing down the bar laden river, has become somewhat tainted by the "falang" culture. It's unfortunate and, according to the locals we've spoken to, an undesired change in this once sleepy little village. However, a lot of people do profit from the craziness that goes on here. Without the "falangs" sure there would not be the endless noise, debauchery, or endless reruns of "Friends"; but neither would the bars, restaurants, tourist offices or street vendors exist either. So who knows. I didn't have the pleasure of experiencing Vang Vieng before the "falangs" so I can only judge the village's current state... and I must say, I quite like it.
Our first day we did nothing. The bus ride the night before was a bit of a bust, and it was hot and we thought we'd just be lazy. It was nice. Of course, "Go-Get'em-Andy" couldn't rest still for too long and spent the majority of our lazy day trying to convince us to go rock climbing with him bright and early at 9am the next morning. He has a way of making you feel a little bit guilty for "wasting" time and not "seizing the day". So we eventually caved in and opted for a day of physical effort.
The last, and only, time I went climbing I was probably about 12 years old on an indoor wall at the Crag for someone's birthday party. Since I have little to no recollection of what that was like I have always wanted to try proper climbing. I didn't not like it, but I didn't love it either. Now that I'm a few days from the experience, I can say that I enjoy'd myself. At the time, my response may have been a little different.
I came down with a bit of an upset stomach in the night and was feeling pretty tired and uncomfortable by the time we got to mountain face, and I was feeling pretty weak. That being said, regardless of whether or not I was sick, I still don't think I have the physical stamina for climbing. I also don't have the technique. Climbing is hard! It's a tough sport even when you're going pretty well, but the minute you get stuck and stop to try to find your holds or where to put you feet, you really start to feel it. Again, this is mostly because we weren't doing it properly; but, if it wasn't for Kong holding me up most of the time I don't think I would've successfully finished any of the climbs. Kong, our guide, was/is an amazing climber. Watching him crawl up those walls like a monkey is unreal. When I compare his climbs to ours it's just pathetic really. We (and by that I mean, I) probably looked like a poor, clumsy (enter name of creature who does not belong on a rock face), while Kong looked all skilled and graceful. Seriously a world of difference!
By the third or fourth climb, I was done. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and pass out. I got maybe 2 meters from the top and crapped out! Just below the top the rock face was pretty smooth. No more nice large edges and deep pockets to stand on and hold onto. I stood for a moment, searching, feeling my arms and my body shake, letting the panic creep in, and I forfeited. I told Kong to take me down, and despite the boys' persistent encouragement I wasn't going anywhere!
That night, I went to bed at 930 and slept for 12 hours!
The next morning, it was finally time to get to some tubing.
For many other travellers, tubing is a new and rare experience. For anyone who grew up in Canada or the west coast, you've probably done it before. Growing up, tubing down the river was a regular occurrence. So no, this wasn't my first time.
The two big differences between home and here however, are pink eye and bars. Apparently, a lot of people get pink eye (feces in the eyes) from the river. So far so good, but everyone has become a little paranoid I think. Certinaly, no one likes to think about it much either. But the bars! Oh the bars! The first three-quarters of the river is just lined with them. Even before you get into the water there are bars on either side of the starting point. It's crazy. Word of caution: intoxication and tubing = bad idea. A great money maker and a lot of fun, but hazardous! The bars do play fantastic music and it's nice to get out and dance, jump off a very high swing, and then get back in your tube just as the heat starts to stick and keep going until you hit the next bar. Tubing down the river was a blast. We did however, have a small incident (and this time Tanya it wasn't me!).
Our wonderful, enthusiastic friend Andy was a little too into the whole tubing and bar experience. Caution to the wind, he was literally jumping into his tube from the river bank. The first few times, this wasn't a problem, but it only took that one time and it became a problem. He jumped into his tube, not paying much attention to the giant rocks (limestone = sharp edges) sticking out of the shallow waters. He sliced open his elbow. We kept on floating and half way to the next stop his elbow was really bleeding. We got out and tried to patch him up with tissues and a "Bucket Bar" wrap but between the dehydration and blood loss, poor Andy hit the ground pretty hard! The guy working at the bar offered to take him to the tuktuk station by boat (we obviously weren't going to let him back in the water), and so he, Darren and Joe headed off to the hospital while Silvio and I floated down the rest of the river with our five tubes. The hospitals here have obviously seen their share of tubing accidents, but all I can pictures are expressions of "not another one" as Andy walked into the hospital with a red band with the words "Bucket Bar" on it tied around his wounded elbow!
Andy's fine. He got a few stitches and some antibiotics, and now he's got a river wound like everyone else. At least 1 out of 5 "falangs" that travel down that river are a testament to the hazardous combination of tubing and intoxication, but it's funny how the notion only becomes more popular. Andy even had elbow-injury company in the hospital in the form a blonde English girl.
So, no, this wasn't my first time tubing down a river, but tubing here is a whole different thing altogether. Especially since, in the rainy season (which it is now) it only takes about 1 hour to get down the river (even faster if it's recently rained, which it had), and it took us about 5 hours. If you do the math, you can easily see that you spend far more time dancing and tarzan swinging than you do tubing.
Well, with Andy stitched up, and our novelty tubing shirts, we're off to Vientienne tomorrow to organize our last month, in Vietnam.
Vang Vieng, the infamous town for tubing down the bar laden river, has become somewhat tainted by the "falang" culture. It's unfortunate and, according to the locals we've spoken to, an undesired change in this once sleepy little village. However, a lot of people do profit from the craziness that goes on here. Without the "falangs" sure there would not be the endless noise, debauchery, or endless reruns of "Friends"; but neither would the bars, restaurants, tourist offices or street vendors exist either. So who knows. I didn't have the pleasure of experiencing Vang Vieng before the "falangs" so I can only judge the village's current state... and I must say, I quite like it.
Our first day we did nothing. The bus ride the night before was a bit of a bust, and it was hot and we thought we'd just be lazy. It was nice. Of course, "Go-Get'em-Andy" couldn't rest still for too long and spent the majority of our lazy day trying to convince us to go rock climbing with him bright and early at 9am the next morning. He has a way of making you feel a little bit guilty for "wasting" time and not "seizing the day". So we eventually caved in and opted for a day of physical effort.
The last, and only, time I went climbing I was probably about 12 years old on an indoor wall at the Crag for someone's birthday party. Since I have little to no recollection of what that was like I have always wanted to try proper climbing. I didn't not like it, but I didn't love it either. Now that I'm a few days from the experience, I can say that I enjoy'd myself. At the time, my response may have been a little different.
I came down with a bit of an upset stomach in the night and was feeling pretty tired and uncomfortable by the time we got to mountain face, and I was feeling pretty weak. That being said, regardless of whether or not I was sick, I still don't think I have the physical stamina for climbing. I also don't have the technique. Climbing is hard! It's a tough sport even when you're going pretty well, but the minute you get stuck and stop to try to find your holds or where to put you feet, you really start to feel it. Again, this is mostly because we weren't doing it properly; but, if it wasn't for Kong holding me up most of the time I don't think I would've successfully finished any of the climbs. Kong, our guide, was/is an amazing climber. Watching him crawl up those walls like a monkey is unreal. When I compare his climbs to ours it's just pathetic really. We (and by that I mean, I) probably looked like a poor, clumsy (enter name of creature who does not belong on a rock face), while Kong looked all skilled and graceful. Seriously a world of difference!
By the third or fourth climb, I was done. All I wanted to do was close my eyes and pass out. I got maybe 2 meters from the top and crapped out! Just below the top the rock face was pretty smooth. No more nice large edges and deep pockets to stand on and hold onto. I stood for a moment, searching, feeling my arms and my body shake, letting the panic creep in, and I forfeited. I told Kong to take me down, and despite the boys' persistent encouragement I wasn't going anywhere!
That night, I went to bed at 930 and slept for 12 hours!
The next morning, it was finally time to get to some tubing.
For many other travellers, tubing is a new and rare experience. For anyone who grew up in Canada or the west coast, you've probably done it before. Growing up, tubing down the river was a regular occurrence. So no, this wasn't my first time.
The two big differences between home and here however, are pink eye and bars. Apparently, a lot of people get pink eye (feces in the eyes) from the river. So far so good, but everyone has become a little paranoid I think. Certinaly, no one likes to think about it much either. But the bars! Oh the bars! The first three-quarters of the river is just lined with them. Even before you get into the water there are bars on either side of the starting point. It's crazy. Word of caution: intoxication and tubing = bad idea. A great money maker and a lot of fun, but hazardous! The bars do play fantastic music and it's nice to get out and dance, jump off a very high swing, and then get back in your tube just as the heat starts to stick and keep going until you hit the next bar. Tubing down the river was a blast. We did however, have a small incident (and this time Tanya it wasn't me!).
Our wonderful, enthusiastic friend Andy was a little too into the whole tubing and bar experience. Caution to the wind, he was literally jumping into his tube from the river bank. The first few times, this wasn't a problem, but it only took that one time and it became a problem. He jumped into his tube, not paying much attention to the giant rocks (limestone = sharp edges) sticking out of the shallow waters. He sliced open his elbow. We kept on floating and half way to the next stop his elbow was really bleeding. We got out and tried to patch him up with tissues and a "Bucket Bar" wrap but between the dehydration and blood loss, poor Andy hit the ground pretty hard! The guy working at the bar offered to take him to the tuktuk station by boat (we obviously weren't going to let him back in the water), and so he, Darren and Joe headed off to the hospital while Silvio and I floated down the rest of the river with our five tubes. The hospitals here have obviously seen their share of tubing accidents, but all I can pictures are expressions of "not another one" as Andy walked into the hospital with a red band with the words "Bucket Bar" on it tied around his wounded elbow!
Andy's fine. He got a few stitches and some antibiotics, and now he's got a river wound like everyone else. At least 1 out of 5 "falangs" that travel down that river are a testament to the hazardous combination of tubing and intoxication, but it's funny how the notion only becomes more popular. Andy even had elbow-injury company in the hospital in the form a blonde English girl.
So, no, this wasn't my first time tubing down a river, but tubing here is a whole different thing altogether. Especially since, in the rainy season (which it is now) it only takes about 1 hour to get down the river (even faster if it's recently rained, which it had), and it took us about 5 hours. If you do the math, you can easily see that you spend far more time dancing and tarzan swinging than you do tubing.
Well, with Andy stitched up, and our novelty tubing shirts, we're off to Vientienne tomorrow to organize our last month, in Vietnam.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
On Laos-Time
I've been feeling extremely lazy (more so than usual) and the only thing I can think to explain it all is that, I'm on "Laos-Time". Laos-Time, if you haven't guessed it, is just a prolonged sense of the time the rest of the world seems to run on. If a Tuk Tuk driver tells you it'll take twenty minutes to get somewhere, you can generally expect that it'll probably take an hour. If a restaurant tells you they can prepare your meal in ten minutes, what they really mean is 30. Just like when our bus out of Luang Prabang was supposed to be 6 hours, but was actually 8. So this is the way my mind and body have begun to function. Time therefor, has more or less become irrelevant.
When we were in the jungle, trekking, Laos-Time was less apparent. We got up with the sun and the gibbons and always seemed to have a schedule (if not totally monitored by a clock). In Muang Noi, this was not the case, though the generators always let you know what time of day it was. In Luang Prabang, we lost any sense of time all together.
Our first day in Luang Prabang we walked up the 286 some odd steps to the top of the Phusi temple to watch the sunset. (Andy's motto in life is the infamous carpe diem and is good at urging us into activity no matter how long we've just spent in a hard wooden boat.) From there we wandered into the night market (which couldn't be helped since it lines the streets at the base of the hill), and found ourselves some dinner at the local food market. It's a pretty genius place. You can get bbq fish, chicken, sausage or pork (for about 15,000 kip = $2) and a large plate of buffet style vegetable dishes for 10,000 kip = $1.25. All the times we went I don't think Darren and I ever managed to finish a meal, and we always shared the plate of vegetables. After dinner, we headed to a trendy little bar/lounge called "Utopia" where we were supposed to meet up with a bunch of other people from Muang Noi. People slowly drifted in (they were all on Laos-Time too) and by the end of the night we had sort of overrun the place. It was a little expensive but a really great little bar.
Thanks to our new friend Mike (from Sydney) we also got wind of a great little bakery/cafe called "Arthouse Cafe", owned by a Canadian woman, that has the best breakfasts at a great value. Fruit salad, a bagel with cream cheese and refillable Laos coffee for 25,000 kip = $3. We went there everyday, and everday breakfast would take us at least an hour, most times longer. It's one of the only places in all our travels thus far where they will refill your coffee for free. Everywhere else is more like Starbucks or Tim Hortons--if yo want more than one cup you have to pay for it. So we often sat talking, long after our meals were finished, just drinking our delicious cups of Laos coffee (and taking advantage of the cafe's air con).
Despite our inclination to do nothing, we did head to a waterfall on our second day (Andy was a factor in the planning and getting us motivated of course). I think it was the Tad Sae waterfall. It was absolutely beautiful. It was the hottest day we'd experienced yet (in Laos) and was absolutely perfect. The waterfall pools in teers down the mountain. At the bottom there is a park-like set up with picnic tables and changerooms, but we started by climbing right to the top and going for a dip with not a soul in sight. It was amazing and the water was so refreshing.
After a lazy day at the falls, we headed into town and began our ritual of walking through the night market, eating and walking back. A good chunk of our time in Luang Prabang was spent eating and talking and doing a bit of nothing (no wonder I love the place so much). The city was suprisingly quiet (because of the low season apparently) and the market was almost bare. It was so peaceful, everyday and everywhere you went.
Continuing on our quest for relaxation, our last night in town, Darren and I went for the best massages! Anisa, a girl from New Mexico, had a 3 hour massage earlier that day; consisting of, a 10 minute hot shower, 1 hour aromatherapy massage, 1 hour facial, and 50 minutes reflexology massage. I checked it out, and this 3 hour package was 150,000 kip = not even $20. We didn't have quite that much time, so Darren got a 1 hour full body traditiona massage (40,000 kip = $5) and I got a 1 hour facial (60,000 kip = $8). The facial was amazing. She started with some sort of cream cleanser, then an herbal scrub, then warm honey, some other sort of cream, then a tightening mask, taking her time to massage all of these things into my skin one by one. During my 1 hour, she also massaged both my arms and hands, my feet, and even spent a few minutes on my neck, shoulders and upper back. I almost felt light headed afterwards, I was so relaxed. Darren and I closed the place down, went back to our guesthouse and slept like babies! I wish massages were this good and this cheap back home!
Anyway, not a lot to tell. We're on Laos-Time. We're in Vang Vieng now, the infamous tubing destination of Laos and will get to doing something eventually. Other than breakfast and switching guesthouses (bed bugs :S) we haven't done a thing. We'll probably grab lunch at a restaurant which runs "Friends" episodes non-stop, all day, and then evenutally eat dinner; but, that will likely be as exciting as today gets. Don't worry though, we're not staying here for too long and I do want to go tubing (of course), see some caves, and we'll possibly go rock climbing as well. So Laos-Tme or not, things will pick up. Keep checking in!
When we were in the jungle, trekking, Laos-Time was less apparent. We got up with the sun and the gibbons and always seemed to have a schedule (if not totally monitored by a clock). In Muang Noi, this was not the case, though the generators always let you know what time of day it was. In Luang Prabang, we lost any sense of time all together.
Our first day in Luang Prabang we walked up the 286 some odd steps to the top of the Phusi temple to watch the sunset. (Andy's motto in life is the infamous carpe diem and is good at urging us into activity no matter how long we've just spent in a hard wooden boat.) From there we wandered into the night market (which couldn't be helped since it lines the streets at the base of the hill), and found ourselves some dinner at the local food market. It's a pretty genius place. You can get bbq fish, chicken, sausage or pork (for about 15,000 kip = $2) and a large plate of buffet style vegetable dishes for 10,000 kip = $1.25. All the times we went I don't think Darren and I ever managed to finish a meal, and we always shared the plate of vegetables. After dinner, we headed to a trendy little bar/lounge called "Utopia" where we were supposed to meet up with a bunch of other people from Muang Noi. People slowly drifted in (they were all on Laos-Time too) and by the end of the night we had sort of overrun the place. It was a little expensive but a really great little bar.
Thanks to our new friend Mike (from Sydney) we also got wind of a great little bakery/cafe called "Arthouse Cafe", owned by a Canadian woman, that has the best breakfasts at a great value. Fruit salad, a bagel with cream cheese and refillable Laos coffee for 25,000 kip = $3. We went there everyday, and everday breakfast would take us at least an hour, most times longer. It's one of the only places in all our travels thus far where they will refill your coffee for free. Everywhere else is more like Starbucks or Tim Hortons--if yo want more than one cup you have to pay for it. So we often sat talking, long after our meals were finished, just drinking our delicious cups of Laos coffee (and taking advantage of the cafe's air con).
Despite our inclination to do nothing, we did head to a waterfall on our second day (Andy was a factor in the planning and getting us motivated of course). I think it was the Tad Sae waterfall. It was absolutely beautiful. It was the hottest day we'd experienced yet (in Laos) and was absolutely perfect. The waterfall pools in teers down the mountain. At the bottom there is a park-like set up with picnic tables and changerooms, but we started by climbing right to the top and going for a dip with not a soul in sight. It was amazing and the water was so refreshing.
After a lazy day at the falls, we headed into town and began our ritual of walking through the night market, eating and walking back. A good chunk of our time in Luang Prabang was spent eating and talking and doing a bit of nothing (no wonder I love the place so much). The city was suprisingly quiet (because of the low season apparently) and the market was almost bare. It was so peaceful, everyday and everywhere you went.
Continuing on our quest for relaxation, our last night in town, Darren and I went for the best massages! Anisa, a girl from New Mexico, had a 3 hour massage earlier that day; consisting of, a 10 minute hot shower, 1 hour aromatherapy massage, 1 hour facial, and 50 minutes reflexology massage. I checked it out, and this 3 hour package was 150,000 kip = not even $20. We didn't have quite that much time, so Darren got a 1 hour full body traditiona massage (40,000 kip = $5) and I got a 1 hour facial (60,000 kip = $8). The facial was amazing. She started with some sort of cream cleanser, then an herbal scrub, then warm honey, some other sort of cream, then a tightening mask, taking her time to massage all of these things into my skin one by one. During my 1 hour, she also massaged both my arms and hands, my feet, and even spent a few minutes on my neck, shoulders and upper back. I almost felt light headed afterwards, I was so relaxed. Darren and I closed the place down, went back to our guesthouse and slept like babies! I wish massages were this good and this cheap back home!
Anyway, not a lot to tell. We're on Laos-Time. We're in Vang Vieng now, the infamous tubing destination of Laos and will get to doing something eventually. Other than breakfast and switching guesthouses (bed bugs :S) we haven't done a thing. We'll probably grab lunch at a restaurant which runs "Friends" episodes non-stop, all day, and then evenutally eat dinner; but, that will likely be as exciting as today gets. Don't worry though, we're not staying here for too long and I do want to go tubing (of course), see some caves, and we'll possibly go rock climbing as well. So Laos-Tme or not, things will pick up. Keep checking in!
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