Run, itchy dog, Run!

March 18, 2011.

Phnom Penh is like home away from home. There is just enough weird to remind you that you probably shouldn't stroke that toothless guys pet mercat on a string, and just enough normal to make you think the fried tarantula you ate is the sole source of your stomach ache. Beside every glossy corner store there are a couple kids, naked as jaybirds, riding limping dogs shouting "eeeeyyyyaaah!", which I imagine as the Khmer version of "run faster, you itchy little dog!" On the road, after every polished Mercedes, drives a 70's VW bus packed to the bursting point with Calvin Kleen jeans. Everytime you stop to admire the fact that they've put up a 'Caution: Construction' sign, a guy carrying rebar walks into the site rocking flip-flops and a hard hat.

Truly, it's perfect ... and just like all of the people we've met here so far, I've fallen in love and want to stay.

After Sander recovered from his identity-theft-prevention journey with a series of well-timed naps, we set off to explore the National Museum. The art lover in me was thrilled by the quality of the pieces that had been recovered (following decades of neglect and temple robbing), but my OCD yearned to rip everything off the walls and make some damn order of the place. The complete lack of signage was torturing my inner nerd. Why collect 12th century wedding cups, clean them up and display them, and not tell me what a goddamn 'wedding cup' is for?! Regardless, the museum has some serious promise.

For our first night in Phnom Penh, Ben had an action plan: stroll down the breezy river front, eat the most disgusting foods he could find for us, and settle in for cheap draft at a local pub. Now, if that's not a night on the town, I don't know what is. Having failed his quest to find Sander the Khmer favorite; fertilized and boiled chicken eggs, he settled on the sumptuous looking crispy-fried bug trolley. Whatever your black little heart could desire: tarantula, cockroach, grasshoppers, scorpions, and other less distinguishable treats. While I threw up in my mouth a little, Ben and Sander discussed the intricacies of properly eating a cockroach. Don't forget that Ben has an Oxford-English accent, making the whole conversation seem all the more intellectual. They settled on the ever popular snack-you-can-love-by-the-handful: two big scoops of fried crickets. 'Well,' I thought to myself, 'those singing bastards have been keeping me awake at night' .... why not? It's karmic. Enjoy boys. Follow with a few swift pints of Angkor draft, and enjoy.

Slaughter.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Phnom Penh

You did what?!

March 17, 2011

Seven hours by bus between Siem Reap and Phnom Penh, and Sander did it three times in 30 hours. Does he love riding the bus, you're asking? Perhaps the big smelly seat-mate turned out to have an enchanting personality?

The answer to both is 'No', but when you leave two passports, return plane tickets, $500 cash, and airport security tags in the old hotel, someone has to go back and get them. Since Sander had been in charge of the departing room inspection, he was charged with the more arduous task, while I stayed in Phnom Penh and had a miniature melt down. I drank several late night cocktails and fretted over the idea of having to pay full-fare airfare like a sucker as punishment for losing the standby tickets. Additionally, our Laos visas had been particularly sparkly and pretty - so that would have been a shame.
I woke up in the morning in search of breakfast and found a cafe called Oh My Buddha just around the corner. With Sander not due back until late in the afternoon, I settled in and devoured an English breakfast sized for two, all by myself, pretty much in a single gulp. Only when I'd curled back in the wicker chair for my second cup of oh-so-black-coffee did I notice a blue-eyed white guy watching me with amusement from the next table. Being the sexy creature I am, I vaguely recall saying something about being a Canadian girl, and patting my belly. None-the-less we got to chatting, and ended up regaling each other with travel stories and info for another five hours. Blog world, meet the wonderful Ben. He is an Englishman teaching in Phnom Penh, after giving up his white picket fence and two dogs back in the small town he'd grown up in. He had fallen in love with Cambodia on his travels and returned to revel in the joy that is cold bucket showers and screaming kindergarten kids. Who couldn't lovE that? In a single morning, Ben and I had mapped out a weeks worth of plans and activities for our time in Phnom Penh.

Sander returned triumphant and exhausted, with everything we had left behind. Even the wad if cash was still intact. Just one more reason to love Cambodia. He fell asleep while I sat beside him while I spelled out the plan for the week.

Slaughter.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

What a Wat!

March 16, 2011

The Angkor temples around Siem Reap are each extremely impressive on their own. They are more impressive when you consider that the ancient city they dotted supported an estimated 1,000,000 people at a time when most of Europe was busy flinging shit at each other. The closest European rival would have been London with a paltry 50,000. Quite impressive for a civilization that still defecated onto the street.

Arriving in Siem Reap at a keen 3am, we trusted a driver to take us to his friend's new guesthouse. Cheap cheap he promised. We've all heard it before! But we didn't really have a choice. We hopped in the tuk-tuk and crossed our fingers. About 400m down the road the bike stops and the driver hops off. No, we weren't being robbed, we weren't picking up a load of livestock or dry goods, we were out of gas. A great start to our stay in Siem Reap. Our hotel turned out to be fantastic; a pool, fan room with a balcony and hot (warm) shower for $10/night. The only downside was our room was on the 5th floor, and elevators seem to be out of style here.

Our first day in Siem Reap was spent recovering from the 16 hour border trek. Day 2 saw us heading out for our first day of 'templing'. Our driver started us on the grand tour at Angkor Wat, the largest and most famous of the Angkor temples in the area. Allegedly the largest religious facility ever built, the grounds cover a square kilometer, surrounded by what was a 100m wide moat. The 5 spires of the temple tower over you no matter where on the grounds you go. Every face on the stonework is meticulously carved with stories or images of both Hindu and Buddhist origin. It would have been quite a sight to behold in its prime. While the temple is almost completely restored, the years or wind, rain and sun have taken their toll on the sandstone.

The fortified city of Angkor Thom lies to the north of the Wat and sprawls an impressive 16 sq km. A 4km x 4km square encircled by a 200m moat and stone wall. As you enter from the west you come upon Bayon; a temple of near 50 towers, all with the face of the king carved on each wall. One east, one west, one north and one south. Each tower was built to represent a province of the ancient Khmer empire, which, at it's height, stretched from the Mekong delta to what is now Myanmar. I guess a king gets to be that vain. The rest of Angkor Thom is filled with various other stone structures all built for the gods, or the king. Living in stone structures was reserved for deities.

For two days we walked in awe of the remains of this huge city, it's surrounding temples and our ability to keep sweating. On our third day we decided to head to the last true ruin in the area. Beng Melea is a pile of enormous sandstone blocks that has only last year begun restoration. Beyond the front gate, everything is exactly as nature left it after 700 years of abandonment. Roofs collapsed, walls teetering, vines and trees rooted in the most amazing places. In some cases a wall that once supported the tree, now stands only because of the giant roots surrounding it. It is bittersweet that eventually all of the Angkor temples will be reconstructed and visitors will only be able to see an attempt at the temple's former glory. I prefer to see the ruin and use my imagination (guided by repeated viewing of Indiana jones) to see what may have stood here in the past.

Anyways... After 3 days of scorching treks in the temples of Siem reap we are on our way to Phnom Penh for a few days, then to the beach. After nearly 2 months on the road, I can almost smell the sea breeze already.. Or that might be the large man in the seat ahead of me...

Sander.

Border Crossing: A Practical Guide

March 11, 2011

For any of you planning to travel between Laos and Cambodia in the future, here is a step by step account of how you make it across.

1: Get out of the bus as quickly as possible, so you do not have to queue behind everyone else crossing with you.

2: Upon reaching the Laos emigration desk, present $1 to the border agent for the exit stamp in your passport. just to be clear, this is not a postage stamp, just an ink blot. After a minute or so of arguing with the agent in very broken English, throw the bill at him and storm off with you passport.

3: Pick up your bag and walk across the border, as any vehicles crossing are apparently stripped to the chassis "inspecting for drugs" or until you pay the appropriate sum (2 bikers crossing the border were in the process of dismounting their tires from their wheels to show they were not filled with blow).

4: On the Cambodian side of the crossing, report immediately to the self diagnosis medial quarantine desk. Please check off all your symptoms, and present $1 to the resident "doctor" for processing your paperwork. I can only assume that you pay $1 per symptom, so make sure you are in good health or a good liar.

5: If you do not have an entry visa, please proceed to the "visa on arrival" hut with $25 and a recent photo. These requirements (alone among this list) are published on the Cambodian Government website. If you do not have a photo, please pay an additional $5 for their on-site photo services.

6: After receiving your visa, please proceed to the entry validation desk where (you guessed it!) you present $1 to have your passport stamped for entry.

In summary, if you did your research, and arrived with $25 US, and a photo. You would be quite upset to learn, you cannot enter Cambodia. Some travellers we crossed with ended up paying $33 each. Only $25 of which will ever make it into the Cambodian Government coffers. Sarah and I only paid $26 each, due to stern refusals to bow to obvious corruption. I'm not sure if they were surprised or pissed off that someone actually stood up to their demands. Either way, lesson learned. Always travel with a wad of American $1 bills.


Sander

Goodbye David, Goodbye Laos

March 10, 2011

Vientiane is one of those capital cities one can overlook quickly on a trip through SE Asia; but not without reason. After leaving VV, this town seemed incapable of capturing our attention. Perhaps arriving directly from the sterile and orderly environs of north America Vientiane would have been able to impress. After visiting Bangkok, and Chiang Mai, and with Vang Vieng freshly bruised onto our buttocks, we left for greener pastures ASAP.

After a sad goofbye to David (who was off to KL for a few weeks on the Malay beaches) we hopped onto a sleeper bus to the island refuge of Don Det. One of the aptly named four thousand islands (Si Phan Don), Don Det is a bit of a beach paradaise on the middle of the dry season swelter of landlocked Laos. An outcrop of limestone in the middle of the Mekong has led to a series of fantastical waterfalls, and a pseudo delta above them, formed by sand and silt that falls from the water as it waits to tumble over the rocks. The water here is actually see through!!

As we pulled up the the island after an 18 hour, 4 vehicle (Bus, smaller bus, smallest bus, boat) trip from Vientiane, palm leaves waved us hello, and Sarah is pretty sure one of the river fish winked at her. It may be this island is a bit magical... Or it could have been exhaustion induced hallucination. We'll never know for sure. We quickly found a nice guesthouse with the only two amenities I care about when near sand: a shower, and a hammock. I'm quite happy they threw in the ceiling fan and bed for free though.

On day 2 on the island we decided to brave the heat and explore Don Det and Don Khon on bicycle. These two inlands are connected by an 19th century French rail bridge that was built along with ports above and below the falls to move goods up river. Sightseeing includes the largest waterfall in SE Asia ( by volume) and boat trips to spot freshwater Irrawady dolphins! While both are guaranteed the be there by the locals, only the waterfall kiosk offered our money back if we didnt see it. I didnt want to add disappointment to the agony, discomfort, sunburn, and wedgie I was already enduring from our bike trip so we skipped the boat tour.

After 3 days of relaxing on the banks of the Mekong, we are planning to head towards Siem Reap tomorrow to jump into the ancient world of Angkor Empire. But first, we'll have to brave the treacherous border crossing to Cambodia. Don't worry mom, it's only dangerous to your wallet.

Sander

The triumph of awesomeness

March 6, 2011

As soon as I posted that we were traveling in Laos I received emails and notes from friends begging me to go to Vang Vieng. So I read up, and most reviews were mildly favorable, but all stressing that the town was only for the party-inclined. After southern Thailand, how many more drunk and shirtless Australian 'dudes' could I tolerate? I am traveling the globe for real adventure and moments of true cultural inspiration. But, if there were shirtless men, would there be shirtless women? In the interest of cultural research David and Sander voted to stop in. Plus, it broke up what would have otherwise been a 13 hour bus day. We rolled in late, and like the responsible adults we are, we searched long and hard for a cheap place that could offer the precious silence available when distanced from popular bars. At nine the next morning there were no topless women, so we went out for breakfast. Sipping coffee with our pinkies out, the three of us old cynics pondered the possibility of having fun participating in Vang Viengs famed 'tubing'. A bunch of drunks, being irresponsible, and floating down a river in sun-soaked black inner tubes. Yawn. We consulted the guidebook only to find that there wasn't much else to do in the area, so we finished our lengthy breakfast and reluctantly decided to hit the river. After forking out the prescribed cash for a tube, we crammed ourselves into a shared tuk-tuk and headed to the launch site. We had been told that most people don't make it past the first four bars that line the river banks. Oh how we laughed at the idea of those poor pathetic people and their lack of appreciation for real culture. We would float past these tourist traps and the junky-monkies that got stuck at them. We would enjoy a blissful day of friendly solitude and relaxation while floating down the river.

When we emerged from the tuk-tuk, we rubbed our eyes in disbelief. Instead of a couple ugly bars on a riverbank, there was a sprawling adult playground, designed specifically for the triumph of awesomeness over common sense. It looked like it was built with bamboo rods and car parts, chewing gum (probably) and high tension wire by a group of 10 year old boys left to their own devices. If I were a king, this would be my kingdom; complete with the death-defying trapezes, enormous tube launchers, high-speed chute slides, dizzying diving platforms, and back-wrenching zip-lines that would give your dear mother a heart attack just to look at. And yes, sorry mom, I tried them all. More than once. I even taught David to play beer-pong. The Australians were bragging ... we had to put them in their place. That said, Sarah the Safety Bear would like to remind you that excessive alcohol consumption and river swimming are a poor combination. We paced ourselves, stopping at every crazy piece of playground equipment along the way instead of getting hammered, and made it to the pickup point safely.

We left Vang Vieng a day later than planned, since we hadn't acquired enough bruises or sunshine in round one. In fact, my bruised ass is making the current bus ride to Vientiane extremely unpleasant, but the memory of the awe-inspiring 5 meter cannon ball it resulted from makes the whole thing worth it.

Slaughter.

Lao Lao Yum Yum

March 4, 2011

As predicted, we managed to spend four days in Nong Khiaw .... a virtual eternity for two gypsies who haven't been anywhere long enough to use the entire roll of complimentary toilet paper. Don't get me wrong; a gypsy never leaves a good roll behind, but it was a good length of time. David, Sander, and I had spent the first day relaxing in a family owned and operated restaurant. We loved the food, the hammocks, and the price of the beer. On top of excellent Lao fare, the family had been taught to cook German food by a friend who visited them every year. An aging pseudo-hippie; this guys tan would give a saddle-bag a run for it's money. Mr. Saddle-bag, more fondly known as Ingo, had been overdue to write the latest eleven page menu. Since English seemed to be everyones second language and the appetizer "flied poodle with egg" gets less appealing the more you think about it, I offered to re-write and illustrate the new menu. Mr. Moon, Mekara Restaurants' head honcho, had a sharpie, three black ballpoints, and a stack of computer paper in front of me before I could blink. I couldn't find toothpaste in this town ... where the hell did he get computer paper? Agreeing on a Beer Lao as payment I set to work, thrilled to be sketching and translating herbs and spices I'd never of. Of course, David and Sander had been there 'coaching' me, and soon the entire family had taken an interest in what I was working on. Three year old Mekara, after whom the restaurant was named, was especially helpful when she hijacked my marker and did some art of her own. We took a well-deserved break for 'art time': she drew me a lovely series of squiggles, and I drew her a simple cat and taught her to "meow" at the picture. For the next three days she walked around meowing at everything. By my second day, up nice and early to catch the spooky mist-shrouded sunrise, I was almost half way done the menu. Mr. Moon was so thrilled that he offered to take my support team and I out in the boat, to teach us to fish and make a proper beachside Lao BBQ. We spent the afternoon learning how to hold and fold a giant handmade net, and how to throw it into river and haul it out without the fish slipping out the weighted ends. Having mastered the skill early, Sander caught two fish whose combined length was a whopping 2.5 inches. I was the most skilled and successful at snaring the elusive vegetarian fish: river weeds. To be fair, you actually can eat them. Thankfully Mr. Moon caught a few for our BBQ. I feigned a riverside attack by a large unknown beast, who I captured and killed by smacking it loudly on the edge of the table. I unwrapped and promptly devoured the dreaded Granola Bar.
The following days, Mr. Moon plied us with Lao Lao (homemade rice whiskey), I worked on the menu and taught Mrs. Moon how to make coconut french toast, we adventured in some caves, and some cute local kids accidentally gave David a fat lip while they did backflips off his knees into the river.

On our last evening, I was able to finish the menu and present the family with the master copy. Mr. Moon was extremely pleased and so thankful. He looked so proud of his new menu (the best in town, no doubt!) and was thrilled that he would no longer have to 'explain' all of the traditional Lao food. Mekara came out and gave me a colorful handmade silk scarf from the family as a thank you gift. Sander sniffled a bit. At Mr. Moons insistence, the four of us stayed up late and did our best to properly sterilize Davids cut lip with more Lao Lao and laughter - the best combination for new friends, if you ask me.

Slaughter.

"OMB"- oh my buddha

March 1, 2011

Now, the problem with "dry season", is that it is not appropriately named. It should be called "your-flip-flop-melted-to-the-pavement-this-afternoon -season", or "you-didn't-pack-enough-underwear-to-sweat-this-much-season". Having drawn a scowling face with detailed sweat drops on the brow in my guidebook beside the portion that describes Februarys weather as 'pleasant', we decided to head north. While I pondered my newfound appreciation for those ridiculous hats that have solar panels and a built-in fans, our new travel companion David, risked life and bare shoulders in the sun to buy our boat tickets. Destination: Nong Khiaw. Even sounds colder, doesn't it? We adopted David the German on the last boat trip, which brought us to Luang Prabang from the Thai border. He is good-humored, well-spoken, and best of all: he has a couple inches on Sander. Imagine my ultimate joy to be traveling with two handsome "giants", whose combined height is so distracting that not a single Asian woman has stopped to giggle at the size if my feet. In fact, watching the two of them chatting and walking, stooping like a couple of lepers to avoid the market tents while women and men alike stand slack-jawed in their wake, makes for its own afternoon activity.

So, north we headed on a 12 person boat, skimming along the emerald water of the Nam Ou river. Well, we 'skimmed' along the water right until we came to a grinding halt in the rocks of the dry-season riverbed. There we were: twelve sun-pink tourists, all wearing stupid hats of one kind or another, simultaneously wondering if we'd eaten too much for lunch. I quickly decided I didn't want to know if it was me, and jumped into the knee-deep water to push. Four other women and one Sander joined me. David took pictures. We guided our boat through the shallows, inch by inch, while I tried to calculate the speed of the boat vs. my ability to pee quickly in the river and catch up unseen. I fear I would regret making a statement like "SE Asia makes me wish I had a penis...", so I will put it in quotations and tell you I returned to the boat soaked from the nipples down.

Eight hours and two changes of clothes later, here we are in Nong Khiaw. A town of vibrant and genuinely friendly Lao people, it is nestled in the river valley and split in two by the glittering green river, only to be joined again by an enormous bridge with arching pillars that reflect the color of the pink evening sky. The limestone mountains are soaring and lush, littered with visible outcroppings and caves .... perfect for a good story about trolls. We mean to be here a day or two, but I feel it may be longer. What a great journey!

Slaughter

Luang Pra-gang

Feb 27, 2011

Luang Prabang seems to be a bit of an oasis, and the best we've seen of Laos so far. After dropping our guard in Pai for 4 days, the 'entrepreneurial' attitude returned with a vengeance on the north side of the Mekong. We were back to bargaining (and poorly) for the simplest of goods and services. Along with a new currency and a new economy, it made me feel a bit like the village whore; everyone trying to get a piece.

-A group of Irish travellers were ravaged by Thailand as well as Laos on the border crossing so I got over my experience quickly. They were given incomplete papers back from the Thai border agents, forcing them to ferry the river twice more (with a healthy kickback I'm sure) to straighten out their documents and get past the Laos border agent. -

Luang Prabang doesn't seem to share this sense of urgent and ruthless solicitation. No one yelling at you to use their tuk-tuk for your trip to the corner store to get some water. No seemingly honest hostel manager recommending the somewhat further 'Chinese market' to go shopping; only to discover it is a run down parking lot, filled with used automotive parts and cooking utensils. (but I'm not bitter). If it weren't for the shipping costs I may very well have purchased a wok or arc welder. Oh well, it gave his buddy another fare. But I digress

So... Back to Luang Prabang. The front streets of this city still have the charm of what used to be a French colonial town. The lasting architecture has actually had this area declared a UNESCO world heritage site. Little winding cobble streets with fresh vegetables for sale in the morning, and coffee shops and restaurants littering the main streets. At night a market appears adjacent to a Temple along the main road with all sorts of souvenirs, clothing, opium pipes and the such. They do embrace their history here.

The night food market is one of a kind. For 10,000 Kip (about $1.25) you can fill your plate from a buffet of all kinds of local vegetarian dishes. Most without names or recognizable ingredients, you just follow your nose and fill up. For another 10,000K you can add a BBQ meat dish to complete the feast. It's the center of activity every night. After two days on the boat to get here, we recognized a few faces and formed a bit of a posse while we took in the town. Took a trip to the local waterfall, partied a few nights (only until the local curfew of 11:30 of course) and lazed about in the 35 degree heat at the riverside cafe Utopia.

Tomorrow most of us are splitting up, heading this way and that. We're heading up the Nam Ou to Nong Khiaw, while most others are heading south to Vang Vieng or Vientiane. It's the end of the 'Luang Pra-gang', but over a year, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time travel with as good a group as we found here.

Sander