Laos: Beautiful Scenery and a Near Death Experience

Although this blog about my time in Laos, I had spent just shy of a week with my good friend, Karl, in Bangkok. “Where’s the blog?” you’re wondering. I decided not to write one. I’ve been to Bangkok twice and written about it twice and, quite frankly, the less people know about what you do in Bangkok, the better. 

I left Karl and ventured north to a small town, Luang Prabang, on the banks of the Mekong Delta. I had never been to this Laos before and knew very little about this country. The extent of my knowledge was that it is a landlocked country surrounded by Myanmar, China, Thailand, and Vietnam. I suppose there was a high likelihood that you're going to be communist when they are your neighbours. They were then colonized by the French and then the Japanese. Laos declared that they were neutral in the US-Vietnam conflict, but this meant very little and became the most bombed country in history. Laos couldn’t catch a break. 

Today, it’s still officially communist, but since the 1990s they’ve reestablished Buddhism and allowed tourists more freedom in the country. Luckily for Laos’ tourist board the hippy backpackers still prefer to travel to India and the cunty ones go to Thailand. 

Peaceful Luang Prabang was the perfect break from raucous Bangkok. It has a heavy influence from the French which means the architecture of the town makes you think you’re in Europe, while the people are very rude and stink of garlic. No, obviously the Laotian people are very hospitable and I got to relax by the Mekong Delta drinking French red wine. Perfect. 

After exploring the town, my first venture was to the Kuangsi Waterfall. The water I’d seen so far was pretty mucky river water, so a waterfall of brown water didn’t seem so appealing. However, upon arrival, I’d discovered one of the most idyllic places in Laos. It was a truly beautiful location filled with a fair few tourists, but what can you do? 

I got in the chilly pool and tried to let my thoughts escape as I relaxed. Almost immediately I felt something biting my ankles. The size and pain of the bite made me immediately think I was in a pool of baby crocodiles. As keen readers of this blog will know, I’m not good with animals, let alone flesh-eating animals. I freaked out. As I kicked and writhed, the sea-serpents dispersed and I calmed down. I soon realised that the water pool was filled with those tiny fish that you see in malls that eat the dead skin off your feet. Eurgh! Why would anyone pay for that sensation?! I was most concerned that the fish would feast on my athlete’s foot and I’d have a massacre on my hands. 

Later that afternoon I ‘hiked’ to the top of Phousi Hill. Hiked is a bit over the top, I mean walked up the steps to the top. It’s a nice viewpoint, with a temple along the way. I think there was a Buddhist monk field trip for aspiring young monks there on that day. I didn’t know much about Buddhist training, but they have 10 Precepts which they must abide.

1. I will refrain from harming the life of others.
2. I will refrain from stealing the property of others.
3. I will refrain from sexual practices.
4. I will refrain from lying.
5. I will refrain from intoxicating drinks and drugs which lead to carelessness.
6. I will refrain from food between noon and dawn.
7. I will refrain from dancing, singing, listening to music, and watching shows.
8. I will refrain from using perfumes, cosmetics, and also from ornaments (and anything that bears relation to seduction).
9. I will refrain from installing myself in places located on a higher level than the noble beings.
10. I will refrain from accepting or using gold or silver (metal and notes).

If these are the rules Buddhist monks must abide, then I’m more out than a Brexiteer. I look at those rules and I think I should adopt a few to be a better person, things like honesty, and not putting myself above others. But, if I can’t watch football shows, have a beer, dress up like a drag queen and then lie all about it then what is the point to life?

It had been a great day. I drove into town, parked up my scooter and had planned to have dinner and head back to the hotel. One rather excellent thing about being colonised by the French is that now Laos has an array of cheap, delicious wine and I got a little carried away that evening. I thought I'd leave the bike in town, walk home and pick it up the following day.

I got talking to a couple at the next table who told me about a tourist scam in Luang Prabang, whereby the scooter rental shops lookout for their rented-out scooters and "steal" them back with the spare keys. When the tourists report them missing they are charged a hefty bill. I was now concerned about leaving the scooter in town overnight, so I thought I'd carefully ride it the short distance back to the hotel.

It just turns out I wasn't as careful as I thought. I came off on a corner and my wearisome body skidded along the tarmac for longer than anyone would normally enjoy. Two girls came running over to assist me, I picked myself up and started to apologise to them profusely like I'd caused them harm in some way. I guess my Britishness came out. The adrenaline was coursing through me, but I detected no broken bones and only some relatively minor scratches. 

I picked up the bike and it was in better condition than me. I hopped back on and made it back to my hotel. I assessed the situation and went about cleaning myself up. As I was wearing flip-flops, my toes took a bit of the damage. I tried to cut off the severed skin, but it was tremendously painful so I asked the hotel receptionist to help me. She came up to my room with some scissors and ointment and went about hacking off the skin. That for me is 5-star service. 

The next morning, there was more swelling and I'd developed a black eye. I obviously hit my head a lot harder than I first thought. Well, I didn't die, so I'll just mark this down as a life experience. 

I had planned on going to an elephant sanctuary, where it was advertised that you could bathe the elephants, but to be honest, because of the scratches I was hardly planning to bathe myself that day. Luckily it was raining, so I was free to wallow in the comfort of my hotel, hiding in the shadows like Quasimodo. 

I then had the difficult task of returning the scooter to the rental company. I covered most of my scratches on my arms, legs, and feet, but it was impossible not to notice them considering some were on my hands and face. The conversation went as follows:

Scooter Man: Good morning. Oh dear, what happened to your face?!
Me: Oh, don't worry. I slipped when I was exploring the waterfall.
Scooter Man: It didn't happen on the bike, did it?
Me: What? No. No, no, no. No way. Definitely not. Gosh, could you imagine? Nah. Nope. Nahhh. Never. 
Scooter Man: Well, you just have to be careful at those falls.

I got my passport back and was gone in a shot. So, was it worth it? Well, the bike wasn't stolen and the wine was delicious, so yes. 

I took a minibus to Vang Vieng, which is about halfway between Luang Prabang and the capital, Vientiane. 

Vang Vieng was almost unknown until recent years. During the Vietnam war, the US built an airbase in the town. After Laos reopened its borders to tourists, Vang Vieng became a hub. It was famous for tubing down the Nong Sam River, whereby backpackers would take a rather large amount of drugs, get into tubes and drink booze all the way down the river. Unsurprisingly, many tourists died doing this. Who'd have thought? 

The Laotian government put a stop to this behaviour, which suits me just fine. Reducing ways for me to die is welcomed. 

Instead of the famous tubing, I found activities that kept my scratches from getting infected. I think the last thing my wounds need is to get into a murky river with loads of sexually infected youngsters. 

I did very little in Vang Vieng. It's pretty much a hell hole of a place. A place full of awful backpackers, which has little to offer. It's main attractions are ziplining, hot air ballooning or the aforementioned tubing. I avoided these and went for a hike. I walked the 3 miles out of town and hiked up Pha Ngern. It was a 40-minute steep climb, and the last 10 minutes were the most treacherous. When I reached the top I was dripping with sweat. Sweat had penetrated every inch of my body soaking my wallet and even drenching my money. I took off my shirt at the top, wrung it out and tried to let it dry out a little, but the attempt was futile. So much for keeping my wounds dry.

It rained the entirety of the following day and that concluded my time in Vang Vieng. It's a great place for adrenaline-seeking, drug-taking backpacker, but that's not really my scene. The highlight of my time there was watching Arsenal beat Burnley 2-1 at Gary's Irish Pub.

I was warned that there wasn't much to do in the capital of Vientiane, and they weren't wrong. People often go there on visa runs from Thailand. If that's the purpose of your visit then it seems worth being there because otherwise there is shit all else to do. There was once the Lao People’s Army History Museum, which shed light on the atrocious bombing the country suffered between 1964-73. That museum is permanently closed now. There are plenty of temples, which bore the arse off me. So I ended up spending my time in Vientiane catching up on Match of the Day and watching Netflix shows. I couldn't wait to get out of Laos and back home. 

Luang Prabang is worth a visit for a few days, but the rest of Laos isn't worth the effort, in my opinion. 

People say Laos is similar to France. I guess if France had a nuclear disaster like Chernobyl then I would be able to see the likeness. 

Pingyao, China: Tomb Sweeping Day

The Tomb Sweeping Day holiday presented me with a 3-day break and as I didn't have any tombs to sweep I thought I'd get out of Beijing and head to the ancient city of Pingyao with Eunju.

A few days prior to our departure, I was experiencing the symptoms of a cold without being bedridden. I couldn't really work it out until the day before the trip when I woke up at 4am with tremendous pain in my ear. Eunju wasn't staying over that night so I surmised I had an ear infection. 

The train journey to Pingyao didn't make things any better. The train headed west through the mountains. A combination of the air pressure and going through numerous tunnels affected my hearing to the point that I couldn't hear in my left ear. I had the window seat so I could still hear Eunju nattering away to my right. I should have asked her to swap seats as it would have made it much easier to get some sleep while she talked into my deaf ear.

I arrived in Pingyao half deaf with a less than functional nose. I felt like Ozzy Osbourne, the major difference being that he lost his senses from performing ear-splitting heavy metal and snorting God knows what, whereas I probably picked mine up from not washing my hands well enough. Although, Ozzy has to live with Sharon, so if I were him I'd rather be deaf. And blind. 

The first stop was to a pharmacy. I know what you're thinking, "Brendan is an international playboy, he is obviously picking up some prophylactics for his saucy break with his lady friend." That wasn't quite the case. I had to ask Eunju to translate "do you have anything for an ear infection? I think it's started pussing" to the pharmacist. I'm sure I've never appeared so sexy. 

We checked into our hotel that Eunju had booked. It was a traditional Chinese home. It looked really nice, but it came with compromises, the main one being the bed - it was made of bricks. I don't just mean the base, I mean all of it. And the mattress isn't of much use, I've seen pizza bases thicker. We requested extra duvets to give us some comfort, but this didn't help. 

Pingyao is famous for being one of the first banking cities in northern China, for its baijiu (local alcohol), and vinegar. I'd never travelled for vinegar before. 

Vinegar is usually one of those things that are left in the cupboard when there is nothing left, just before your mum does the big shop. We decided to give it a go with some pan-fried dumplings and I can confirm that it does, in fact, taste like vinegar. But it didn't end there, there are shops dedicated to the primary sale of vinegar. They gave us a tour and then gave us some samples to taste. We had a couple of shots of vinegar and left with breath strong enough to ward off the plague. 

We next day we explored Mian Mountain. Located about an hour from the city, it gave us an escape from all that culture. We arrived at the mountain to find a TV set. The cameras were filming two presenters while in the background some performers performed. I know I'm a pretty big deal, but this was a little much for my arrival. In actuality, they were filming some celebrations for the following day's festivities. Right on cue, a helicopter arrived and swarms of people ran over with their camera phones hoping to get a glimpse of a celebrity. I looked over the crowd and tried to work out who it was, then I realised that the chances of Tom Hanks or Angelina Jolie showing up at the base of a mountain in rural China were pretty slim and that it was more likely that it would be a Chinese equivalent of one of those actors with learning difficulties from The Only Way is Essex. 

We ascended the mountain only to realise how cold it was. Days before in Beijing temperatures had reached 30°C in March, so in my duffle bag were shorts, t-shirts and sun cream. Yet, on the mountain is was 4°C and I was rueing my poor packing. To passersby on the mountain they must have thought I had been pumping iron at the gym, when in fact, I was wearing all the clothes I had packed. I was layered up with 4 t-shirts and 2 thin hoodies. It was just about enough as the temperature dropped to 0°C as we climbed higher. 

The views were incredibly remarkable yet bizarre. Mian Mountain had emerged disturbing little of the area surrounding it. Beyond the mountain, there was flat farmland as far as the eye could see without even a hill or a mound of dirt.

Temples are dotted around the mountainside and because of the mist and cold temperatures, Eunju and I were enjoying the freedom of the mountain. One of which is built into a mountain cave. 

After a few hours exploring, we descended and went back to Pingyao in search of a warm dwelling. 

In the evening as we went back to our comfortable brick bed it started snowing. It finished off the trip and we headed back to Beijing the following morning which had experienced a blizzard in our absence. Perfect timing. 

Despite the ear infection, freezing mountain temperature, snow, and leaving with a broken back after 2 nights on bricks, it had been a good trip. 

Indonesia: Yogyakarta & Mount Bromo

Straight from Singapore we stationed in Yogyakarta, a city known for its variety of scenery from mountains to sand dunes to dense jungles. Unfortunately the weather wasn't too kind to us during our stay so we really had to narrow down our scheduled activities.

Our first stop was Indonesia's most visited tourist destination, Borobudur Temple. I'm not the biggest fan of temples, so I made sure to only visit one on this journey and this was it. 

We took the bus there which was an experience in itself. I mean, I say that as a tourist I suppose it wasn't as fun for the locals who were hauling huge sacks of vegetables bought from the market on and off the bus every other stop. I could have helped, but I didn't want to break the fourth wall.

Upon entry they explained that as this is a respected holy place that the outfits Eunju and I were sporting were too provocative showing too much leg. I say if you've got it flaunt it. Alas, I caved to their demands and donned a sarong type garment.

I must say that I really warmed to it. It was so liberating to be in something that I felt comfortable wearing. The slit enabled me to reveal a bit of upper thigh which really enticed the lads. After a few minutes I was sold, just call me Brendie Izzard.

The rain held off just long enough to explore the temple and enjoy the view of the thick vegetation surround this sightseeing hot spot.

We stayed at a hostel called Hati Hati, which was themed on the mantra "don't worry, be happy". It was hard to adopt this belief as there was an Islamic Mosque directly across the street, not that uncommon in Indonesia. The location is perfect for someone who wants to attend the mosque, but a little inconvenient for someone who wants to sleep in. The formal prayers started around 6am at sunrise and were repeated 5 times a day. Just after the Maghrib prayer at sundown we headed for the bar street. 

The next morning we checked the forecast and had a sunshine window of opportunity. We hopped on a scooter and made way for Curug Pulosari. It's off the beaten track and because of the recent downpours we had this secluded waterfall all to ourselves. It was peaceful and beautiful.

Yogyakarta is unique within Indonesia in that is has been given the status of "Special Administrative Region" meaning that it is the only region in Indonesia to be ruled by a monarchy. It was awarded this due to their contribution in aiding the survival of the Indonesian Republic. So, in our remaining time in the city we meandered around the palaces, where the Sultan of Yogyakarta still resides. It was pretty underwhelming. It seemed less of a palace and more of a bus station. It was so underwhelming in fact that I didn't even take a single picture of it. 

We made our way over to the Water Palace, a place where the sultan would relax, taking in a puppet show along the way. I'm not sure what I was expecting with the puppet show, but it was far from interesting. There's a reason why it's traditional entertainment because if it was any good it'd be on Netflix.

Eunju is the one on the left

And that drew to a close our time in Yogyakarta. We just had a short flight over to Surabaya where we were scheduled to take a sunrise tour of Mount Bromo, one of Indonesia's largest active volcanoes. 

We were picked up at midnight and travelled to the mountain. Arriving at around 4am we had an hour and a half to kill until sunrise. Previous to our tour we had been enjoying temperatures of 30°C+, but at the top of the volcano it was down to 11°C. Sure, it was chilly, but some people had dressed as it they were heading for the arctic. Hats, scarves, gloves, and jackets were all on sale, but I wasn't prepared to buy a scarf on holiday in Indonesia. And anyway, I'd just been tolerating Siberian winds in Beijing, light drizzle and a minor chill were nothing to us.

The time passed slowly. Minutes felt like hours. The drizzled worsened and there was a thick mist that was impossible to see through. If someone had said to me, 'would you like to watch the sunrise from the comfort of your warm bedroom?' I probably wouldn't bother waking up for it. 'Would you travel 3-4 hours, climb a mountain in the rain to see bugger all?' Yes, mate. Well up for that. 'And would you like to share that experience with 2,000 other people?' Even better. 

Officially at 5:33am, according to my phone the sunrise had happened and I saw none of it. It was that moment I realised I had wasted my time and money. 

Just as we were heading down the treacherous mountain roads, the clouds parted and we got to see our post sunrise. The sun shone through the clouds over the mist covering the mountains. It was spectacular. 

Further down the mountain we stopped on the Sea of Sand to take some more pictures. We drove over the volcanic sands with a feeling of astonishment. 

We climbed to the peak of the volcano to get a glance of the smoke emitting from it and drew in a big lungful of smelly sulphur dioxide. Either that or the previous nights Indonesian food was making a second occurrence. You could feel the warmth from it too which was welcomed. 

Back to Surabaya we had some time to kill before our early evening flight. We relaxed for a few hours while it rained outside. Our hostel was only 30 minutes from the airport, so we were packed and were left waiting for a taxi, the trouble was that we couldn't get one. After a long painstaking wait, we were on our way when we immediately hit traffic. The rain was coming down harder and flooded the roads 30cm high. I'd never seen rain quite like it. This intensified the traffic. There is nothing more stressful than being in traffic on the way to the airport (well, there are, but for the sake of this story there aren't). The minutes passed like seconds as we sat hopelessly. It eventually took us almost 3 hours to reach the airport and therefore we missed our flight to Bali.

We needed to book another flight, but the airport staff were far from helpful. We got online and our options were limited. We had to settle for one of the morning 2 days later. When I attempted to book these flights my credit card wouldn't work, so I had the joy of talking to their customer service department. By the time we had our flights booked all the restaurants had closed. I was truly pissed off. Over some dry KFC Eunju looked at me and said "smile". You'd have to be a mentalist or a Mormon to smile in that situation. I calmly replied "tomorrow".

This meant we had a day and a bit in Surabaya. Let me tell you, there isn't much to do there. The options were to take a tour of a cigarette factory or look around the zoo, which is most famous for their terrible treatment and conditions for the animals. You know you're in for a long wait if the city you're in is mostly known for cancer sticks and animal cruelty.

We made our morning flight to Bali and I smiled at Eunju.

A shout-out goes to Eunju as she had to tolerate a significant period with a miserable bastard. 

Roberts Came to Visit

Life in Beijing was swell. I was starting to feel a little more adjusted to life here. Life was good, then I got a text that no one ever wants to receive...Joe Roberts is coming to Beijing. I searched for excuses, but drew a blank. I was going to have to spend 3-4 days with him. Not only that, but he was also bringing Aisling with him. Aptly nicknamed "Conor McGregor", she strikes fear into the hearts of all men. I begrudgingly accepted to show them around the city.

Once they had arrived I had the pressure of being a tour guide despite only being here for 2 months myself. I'm not even sure I could give a guided tour of my hometown of Bedford.

"That's the Bedford International Athletics Stadium, that's the River Great Ouse, and that's The Rose. Tour over. Let's go for a pint."

Added to that my lack of Chinese language skills I didn't really tick any boxes you'd expect from a tour guide. My Chinese vocabulary ranges to chicken, pork, beef, subway station, Americano, rice, noodles, hello, thank you, good bye, and what's your name? Should any of them arise on the tour then we'd be golden, but they didn't really come up. I was less of a tour guide and more of a third wheel.

I really ought to study.

First up, Tianenmen Square.

Even at 4pm there was a huge queue to get in - it's China, there are people everywhere. Joe and Aisling got to see the locals up close in the wild. They saw first hand how incapable they are of queuing orderly and just how much they like to spit. 

Next, I told them how nice the Bell and Clock Towers look at night, so we hailed a cab and I told the driver where we wanted to go (shortly after looking up online how to say Bell Tower in Chinese). Taxi drivers don't really follow the highway code here. I was always taught mirror, signal, manoeuvre. Chinese taxi drivers obviously learned a different method of spit out the window, toot the horn, manoeuvre.

When we arrived the lights weren't on. The cracks started to form in my tour guide sham. We retired to a bar and caught up.

The following day we really went for it. Starting at The Temple of Heaven, then onto The Forbidden City, Jingshan Park, and Beihei Park. I'd like to think I slightly redeemed myself on Day 2. 

We ended the day in Sanlitun for a few beers. Joe and Aisling had an early morning tour of The Great Wall the next day, but I didn't so my calls to stay out for a few more we're regrettable the following day. Their Great Wall experience would have been much better had it not been for the hangover and the accompanying Americans. I know which one I'd rather be stuck with all day.

We met up on March 17th for Joe an Aisling's final full day in Beijing. We met in the morning to see The Summer Palace, but as the days went by the pollution started to get a lot worse. 

Their trip coincided with St. Patrick's Day and finally I had a use for Aisling. She's a pedigree Irish whereas I'm more of a mongrel. When the big day comes around I have to pull out the family tree to gain any credibility to my Irish claim. But with Aisling there I no longer had to use excuses like "my brother and grandparents were born there" or "my mum lives there", if anyone questioned my accent I just pointed to Aisling and said "I'm with Conor". They were sensible enough to back down then.

It was great to see and spend time with them both even if it was only for a few days. I'm also glad they managed to see Beijing when the pollution was mild (we even had a day with blue skies!) because soon after they left the pollution got pretty bad and I even resorted to using a face mask. I'm not too keen on them though as they pull on your ears and make you look like Glen Clasper (that joke is funny to about 3 people who'll read this).

Having come from Bedfordshire where the air is clean to, according to the WHO, Beijing which is the 76th most polluted city in the world. Although, if you walk around Bedford and look at the locals you get the feeling that they don't live in the healthiest of environments. A lot of them probably had mothers who chain-smoked all through pregnancy, fed them a diet of processed meat, before they started weaning them onto protein shakes and heroin. So I suppose clean air doesn’t always result in a healthy individual.

Till next time.