Sunday 28th February
Up early for breakfast then minibus to small boat back to rendezvous point. Slightly misty with the karst islands at distance appearing to float above the sea. Reached the Halong Phoenix Cruiser where there was a demonstration of how to make Vietnamese spring rolls. Much enthusiasm for making them, but significantly less for eating the results. Sailed back to Halong city and then minibus back to Hanoi.
Saturday 27th February
Sleep disturbed by the patter of tiny feet on the deck overhead. I knew we weren't sinking because the rats had swum out to join the ship, they were not leaving it.
Woke up later amongst a flotilla of junks in a flat calm anchorage surrounded by islets. After breakfast, cruised to a rendezvous point where we transferred to a smaller boat. Sat on roof as we sailed amoungst islands and sea stacks to monkey island. The boat attempted to make land, but either the tide was wrong or the gangplank too short depending on your point of view. Watched monkeys chase tourists along the beach, and tourists chase them back. The monkeys didn't throw rocks, the tourists did.
Docked at Cat Ba island and a short minibus hop took us to the Holiday View Hotel, a 13 storey 1980's brutalist building but with good size, well appointed rooms. After lunch we hired a tandem and wobbled around town. Although there were 3 gears on the crank wheel and 6 on the rear axle, it was stuck in one which meant pushing uphill. When we returned it, the guy talked us into renting his scooter/moped/motorbike thing. Luckily it had automatic gears and we wobbled off even faster and into the national park along a road only one moped wide. Then we turned towards the sea and completed a tour of about a quarter of the island before it got dark.
Friday 26th February
Minibus picked us up at hotel and drove to Halong bay through a picturesque landscape populated by thousands of peasants planting rice by hand in the paddy fields. Such a waste of human potential and with education, the seedbed of aspirational trouble in the future.
The 'Halong Phoenix' cruiser is a wooden craft built like a Chinese junk, but with spacious, well appointed cabins and very good food. The scenery was magnificent with hundreds of limestone islets with precipitous sea cliffs rising out of an almost calm sunlit sea.
In the afternoon we went by lighter to the Sung Sot cave, a stupendous series of limestone caverns with rippled roofs due to former wave action. The lighter then took us to platform where we embarked in kayaks for a 'hollow' island. The entrance was through a cave, and when you emerged the other side it became clear that the whole of the centre of the island must have been a collapsed cavern. Apart from a handful of kayaks, the only other inhabitants of the island were monkeys although we didn't see any. However above us sea eagles soared imperiously, spiralling skywards on up currents next to the cliffs.
Thursday 25th February
Walked to Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum, a massive Soviet style building with stern faced armed guards. Ho looked serenely avuncular in his glass coffin. His house, cars and lifestyle were spartan and his philosophy possibly as Confucian as it was communist. The adjoining museum was splendid with historical artefacts, art and philosophy all displayed in exciting and entertaining ways.
Then walked to the Temple of Literature which was effectively a Confucian university founded a thousand years ago, failed to book train tickets to Hue, then lunch at the same restaurant as last night.
Back at the hotel, Sandy the friendly receptionist, found that she could only get tickets for us on the King Train to Hue on Monday. However she moved our last night at the hotel to Sunday and booked us a three day trip to Halong bay in between. So we will keep busy and the schedule has only slipped one day.
Then off again to start a walking tour of the old quarter, including a stuffed 250Kg turtle at the temple on the lake.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Vientiane to Hanoi
Wednesday 23rd February
After a hearty breakfast we were driven to Wattay airport, only a quarter of an hour or so from the centre. There we caught a Lao Air turboprop to Hanoi, crossing hundreds of miles of jungle covered mountains with frequent clouds of smoke haze from slash and burn agriculture. No sign of soil erosion though.
At Hanoi airport we were met by a driver who took us the 35km to the Lakeside Hotel in the centre of the old town. Beside the new highway were endless peasants in conical straw hats tending strips of rice paddy, a sort of rural Lowry scene.
We walked around the lake in the middle of the old town, withdrew two million Dong from an ATM ( All bearing Ho Chi Minh's head), then ventured a kilometre or so eastwards to the Quin An Ngon restaurant on Phan Boi Chau.
This was a frenetically busy canvas covered courtyard filled with bench seats and lined with smoking cooking pots. The food was magnificent. Thanks to Em for recommending it and to Christine for having the courage to cross the innumerable roads to get there ( There are two million motorbikes in Hanoi and we think most were driving along our route.)
After a hearty breakfast we were driven to Wattay airport, only a quarter of an hour or so from the centre. There we caught a Lao Air turboprop to Hanoi, crossing hundreds of miles of jungle covered mountains with frequent clouds of smoke haze from slash and burn agriculture. No sign of soil erosion though.
At Hanoi airport we were met by a driver who took us the 35km to the Lakeside Hotel in the centre of the old town. Beside the new highway were endless peasants in conical straw hats tending strips of rice paddy, a sort of rural Lowry scene.
We walked around the lake in the middle of the old town, withdrew two million Dong from an ATM ( All bearing Ho Chi Minh's head), then ventured a kilometre or so eastwards to the Quin An Ngon restaurant on Phan Boi Chau.
This was a frenetically busy canvas covered courtyard filled with bench seats and lined with smoking cooking pots. The food was magnificent. Thanks to Em for recommending it and to Christine for having the courage to cross the innumerable roads to get there ( There are two million motorbikes in Hanoi and we think most were driving along our route.)
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Vientiane
Tuesday 22nd February
Yesterday evening we strolled around town as far as the peace monument. This is an asian version of the Arc de Triomphe except in the medium of reinforced concrete. Apparently they ran out of cement before it was completed, and finished it with cement donated by the USA to lengthen the airport. This has given it the local nickname of 'the vertical runway'.
We stopped beside the Mekong for a beer, but the river was about a mile away due to the low water level, and the area was too smelly to consider eating. We went to a retaurant where street children were training to be chefs, waiters and waitresses and ate some of the best food of the journey so far.
Met a Finnish hydrology PhD student who said that contrary to what Adisak had told us, there is currently insufficient capacity in the 25 dams in the Mekong catchment to materially reduce the flow, however another 75 or so are planned.
This morning we caught a tuk tuk to an amazing gilded concrete stupa called That Luang, then walked several miles back into town via the Morning Market. In the afternoon walked to the Ho Phra Keo musum, a superb collection of buddhas in a restored royal chapel, and the Wat Sisaket opposite. The latter was the only building left standing when the Thais sacked the city, and differs from the restored wats by having original frescos, raked pillars and a dovecote-like interior with each niche occupied by several buddha figurines.
This city doesn't feel like a capital, more like a provincial administrative centre and if it wasn't for the occasional hammer and sickle flag and the midnight curfew you wouldn't think it was communist either.
Yesterday evening we strolled around town as far as the peace monument. This is an asian version of the Arc de Triomphe except in the medium of reinforced concrete. Apparently they ran out of cement before it was completed, and finished it with cement donated by the USA to lengthen the airport. This has given it the local nickname of 'the vertical runway'.
We stopped beside the Mekong for a beer, but the river was about a mile away due to the low water level, and the area was too smelly to consider eating. We went to a retaurant where street children were training to be chefs, waiters and waitresses and ate some of the best food of the journey so far.
Met a Finnish hydrology PhD student who said that contrary to what Adisak had told us, there is currently insufficient capacity in the 25 dams in the Mekong catchment to materially reduce the flow, however another 75 or so are planned.
This morning we caught a tuk tuk to an amazing gilded concrete stupa called That Luang, then walked several miles back into town via the Morning Market. In the afternoon walked to the Ho Phra Keo musum, a superb collection of buddhas in a restored royal chapel, and the Wat Sisaket opposite. The latter was the only building left standing when the Thais sacked the city, and differs from the restored wats by having original frescos, raked pillars and a dovecote-like interior with each niche occupied by several buddha figurines.
This city doesn't feel like a capital, more like a provincial administrative centre and if it wasn't for the occasional hammer and sickle flag and the midnight curfew you wouldn't think it was communist either.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Luang Pradang to Vientiane
Sunday February 21st
Tuk tuk arrived on time and took us to the bus station where we boarded the VIP coach. This was amusing because someone had numbered the backs of the seats in magic marker, got it wrong and put an indistinct cross through each number. They had then tried again (successfully) writing on the side beneath the window. Consequently with two sets of numbers and at least six different nationalities trying to decipher them, seating everyone took a lot of discussion and time.
The trip south was very comfortable, we had air conditioning and increasingly dramatic scenery with near vertically sided high mountains of limestone. The coach crawled up mountains at about 25mph and crawled down again. The road was well surfaced, but narrow and twisty following the topography. We stopped at a wayside canteen and were fed a delicious lunch of boiled vegetables and miso-like soup.
Arriving in Vang Veng, we took an overcrowded tuk tuk to the Villavay guesthouse, where I am writing this on the verandah of our bungalow before going to see what the town is like.
The view across the river is spectacular, rounded top bare or partially forested limestone mountains rising vertically from the edges of the plain. The town is full of loud Australian bars and saloons full of twenty-somethings attentively watching videos of cartoons on televisions. This isn't however what they are seeing, we know from young travellers we met at the Gibbon Experience that they have imbibed 'happy' shakes or pizzas and are lost in worlds of their own. The 'happy' comestibles are laced with hallucinogenics. Youngsters come to Vang veng to go tubing down the river from bar to bar in the morning, then spend the rest of the day in drug induced torpor.
Dinner occurred on the terrace of a shack overlooking the river at sunset. Sounds romantic but actually entertaining as it was closer to farce with the diners complaining about erratic service and randomly selected dishes. It was a chaotic meal even by Lao standards ( and the word 'Laos' is suspiciously similar to 'Chaos').
Monday February 22nd
After a slightly less chaotic breakfast we were picked up by minibus and taken to the disused airstrip where an 'express' coach was waiting. This set off only half an hour late, driving through increasingly flatter landscape until we reached Vientiane. A hopelessly overcrowded saamlaw (songthaw) took us to the 'centre' which turned out to be only a block from the Lao Orchid hotel where we are now.
Tuk tuk arrived on time and took us to the bus station where we boarded the VIP coach. This was amusing because someone had numbered the backs of the seats in magic marker, got it wrong and put an indistinct cross through each number. They had then tried again (successfully) writing on the side beneath the window. Consequently with two sets of numbers and at least six different nationalities trying to decipher them, seating everyone took a lot of discussion and time.
The trip south was very comfortable, we had air conditioning and increasingly dramatic scenery with near vertically sided high mountains of limestone. The coach crawled up mountains at about 25mph and crawled down again. The road was well surfaced, but narrow and twisty following the topography. We stopped at a wayside canteen and were fed a delicious lunch of boiled vegetables and miso-like soup.
Arriving in Vang Veng, we took an overcrowded tuk tuk to the Villavay guesthouse, where I am writing this on the verandah of our bungalow before going to see what the town is like.
The view across the river is spectacular, rounded top bare or partially forested limestone mountains rising vertically from the edges of the plain. The town is full of loud Australian bars and saloons full of twenty-somethings attentively watching videos of cartoons on televisions. This isn't however what they are seeing, we know from young travellers we met at the Gibbon Experience that they have imbibed 'happy' shakes or pizzas and are lost in worlds of their own. The 'happy' comestibles are laced with hallucinogenics. Youngsters come to Vang veng to go tubing down the river from bar to bar in the morning, then spend the rest of the day in drug induced torpor.
Dinner occurred on the terrace of a shack overlooking the river at sunset. Sounds romantic but actually entertaining as it was closer to farce with the diners complaining about erratic service and randomly selected dishes. It was a chaotic meal even by Lao standards ( and the word 'Laos' is suspiciously similar to 'Chaos').
Monday February 22nd
After a slightly less chaotic breakfast we were picked up by minibus and taken to the disused airstrip where an 'express' coach was waiting. This set off only half an hour late, driving through increasingly flatter landscape until we reached Vientiane. A hopelessly overcrowded saamlaw (songthaw) took us to the 'centre' which turned out to be only a block from the Lao Orchid hotel where we are now.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Luang Pradang
Friday February 19th
Overcast and cold today (19 or 20C). We started following an architectural walking trail in the guidebook. Wandered through the food market with live catfish and even toads then climbed Phousi hill to see the Wats and the view. Came across Buddhas for every day of the week except Sunday, and His footprint. This was a shape where nodules had weathered out of concretionary limestone and a major triumph of religion over petrology.
Many Wats later, we visited the museum which was the former royal palace of this erstwhile capital city before the revolution. The rooms were modest in size and the decoration, whilst it tried to be impressive, only underlined the relative poverty of the country. Unfortunately someone must have been told that light is bad for museums, and all the rooms were in stygian gloom with people peering to see what the display cases contained ( mostly Buddhas). To be honest, even so long after the monarchy it isn't apparent that communism has done more for the people than tourism.
Wandered through the night market and remarked that the quality of so many 'handmade' local items was so identical, whilst the standard of workmanship everywhere else was so poor. Everything wooden here is nailed together and like the Thais, the people may have spirit houses but they don't have spirit levels.
Saturday February 20th
Started early to complete the walking trail, but got sidetracked into crossing Khan river via a rickety bamboo bridge. Then several impressive Wats later, found an even ricketier bamboo bridge which led us to a village on the far side specialising in silk weaving. Incredibly intricate, slow work for girls with excellent eyesight. Back to the main town after being relieved of thousands of kip, for lunch at the 'Tamarind' restaurant, or more precisely an education in the 'etiquette' of eating sticky rice with one's fingers and an education in how unpalatable some Lao food can be!
Finally finished the trail. Gosh, we can almost tell colonial French influenced Lao design from Lao influenced French design. Weather warmed up to regain a sunny 30C. This town may have low voltage, but probably has the highest wattage of anywhere we have been so far.
Overcast and cold today (19 or 20C). We started following an architectural walking trail in the guidebook. Wandered through the food market with live catfish and even toads then climbed Phousi hill to see the Wats and the view. Came across Buddhas for every day of the week except Sunday, and His footprint. This was a shape where nodules had weathered out of concretionary limestone and a major triumph of religion over petrology.
Many Wats later, we visited the museum which was the former royal palace of this erstwhile capital city before the revolution. The rooms were modest in size and the decoration, whilst it tried to be impressive, only underlined the relative poverty of the country. Unfortunately someone must have been told that light is bad for museums, and all the rooms were in stygian gloom with people peering to see what the display cases contained ( mostly Buddhas). To be honest, even so long after the monarchy it isn't apparent that communism has done more for the people than tourism.
Wandered through the night market and remarked that the quality of so many 'handmade' local items was so identical, whilst the standard of workmanship everywhere else was so poor. Everything wooden here is nailed together and like the Thais, the people may have spirit houses but they don't have spirit levels.
Saturday February 20th
Started early to complete the walking trail, but got sidetracked into crossing Khan river via a rickety bamboo bridge. Then several impressive Wats later, found an even ricketier bamboo bridge which led us to a village on the far side specialising in silk weaving. Incredibly intricate, slow work for girls with excellent eyesight. Back to the main town after being relieved of thousands of kip, for lunch at the 'Tamarind' restaurant, or more precisely an education in the 'etiquette' of eating sticky rice with one's fingers and an education in how unpalatable some Lao food can be!
Finally finished the trail. Gosh, we can almost tell colonial French influenced Lao design from Lao influenced French design. Weather warmed up to regain a sunny 30C. This town may have low voltage, but probably has the highest wattage of anywhere we have been so far.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Pictures so far
At the White Temple, south of Chiang Rai Christine leaving tree house
Eric, Catherine and Christine
with Mekong riverboat
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Chiang Rai to Luang Prabang
Thursday February 18th
After waking up to the usual cacophony of roosters and dogs, we left Pak Beng in an even more luxurious boat, again just the four of us and outnumbered by crew. Beautiful trip downstream through minor rapids with mountains either side of the valley. We stopped to walk around a Hmung tribe village, many smiling ladies selling handicrafts and kids, dogs and a pig milling around in the dust.
Then onwards with a superb lunch prepared onboard to Pak Ou caves. we had been travelling through increasingly metamorphic rocks, but here mountains of limestone presented towering river cliffs either side of the Mekong. The caves were overpopulated by thousands of votive figurines of Buddha.
Reaching Luang Prabang slightly before sunset, Phet organised a tuk tuk to carry us to the Lotus Villa Hotel. This is a pleasant elegantly styled boutique hotel set back from the waterfront on a quiet shady street.
Wednesday February 17th
Luckily managed to contact the boat company by email last night and told them which guesthouse we were staying in. We were picked up in the morning by Adisak, the manager, who explained that there was a problem with the river. The water level in the Mekong was so low after months of drought exacerbated by a Chinese dam upstream, that the boat we had booked on couldn't get up to Houei Xai. Instead he led us to another very comfortable riverboat with coach seats on which four of us cruised downstream through increasingly dramatic scenery. Lao villagers were clumped at the water's edge panning for gold whilst their children frolicked in the water, and water buffalo sat nonchalently chewing the cud. We were glad we hadn't taken one of the spray drenched garish long tailed speed boats which zipped past us with their crash-helmet wearing passengers.
Our on-board guide, Phet, explained that the very expensive boat we were otherwise thinking of taking had sunk the previous week after hitting a rock, and we could believe it because there were innumerable jagged rocks sticking out of the riverbed. Two thirds of the way, we had to abandon our boat because of impassable rapids, and walk for twenty minutes scrambling up and down the sandy riverbank to reach another boat downstream. This took us onwards to Pak Beng, a small hamlet (or Lao city) with a comfortable hotel where we stayed the night.
Tuesday February 16th
Up at 6.30am to trek to see or hear gibbons, but again no luck. This time possibly because the trek looped around the guides' camp and I don't expect any self respecting gibbon would have fancied the area. Then a pleasant trek interspersed with seven zipwires back to the base village, and the long dusty trip back to our guesthouse in Houei Xai.
Monday February 15th
Up at 6am to trek to see or hear gibbons, but they were all hiding and silent. Then a long trek to another tree house. The afternoon spent zipping around the area ( except Christine who preferred her sudoku).
The only problem with zipping is that in order for gravity to work, the landing platform needs to be lower than the launch platform. This means that you need to regain thirty metres or so in elevation which is hard work and sticky at these temperatures. But I think the effort is worth it to glide almost half a kilometre across steep sided valleys, watching the jungle canopy drop away to several hundred metres beneath you.
Sunday February 14th
Up bright and early to deposit our rucksacks at the Gibbon Experience offices and leave in a songthaw with day bags. After about an hour and a half we turned off the main road, forded a river and then drove another hour and a half on a dusty, but not bumpy, soil road. Stopping at a village, the party of eight of us plus two guides walked for a couple of hours through jungle paths to the plunge pool of a waterfall. Everyone swam in the icy water or floated on a makeshift bamboo raft. After climbing out of the valley we were fitted with zipwire harnesses, Tthen more walking to the tree house.
The only access to the tree houses is by zipwire. No stairs, ladders, ropes or other means of getting in or out. The tree houses are built around a tree trunk about thirty metres above ground level, roughly hewn wooden platforms with a veranda and thatched roof. The loos have to be seen to be believed. They are the old French style ceramic squat affairs over a hole in the platform. Everything drops thirty metres to fertilise the roots of the tree below.
All meals are brought by the guides by zipwire, consisting of large quantities of sticky rice with pans of largely unidentifiable but tasty vegetables, possibly with some equally unidentifiable stir fried meat, or stir fried egg at breakfast time.
Saturday February 13th
Last year we were deprived of liberty by the Balinese, this year we were deprived of sleep by the Chinese. Throughout the night at 15 to 20 minute intervals, firecrackers were being set off at the Chinese temple about a quarter of a mile away, near the Lak Meang. Each barrage of small staccato explosions is followed by one or two larger detonations which echo across the valley. It is now 7.30 in the morning and they are still at it. The year of the tiger may be auspicious for some, but for most in this area it has started with a completely sleepless night.
However, nothing daunted we had persuaded the hotel to take us to the bus station rather than the airport and caught the 10am bus to Chiang Khong. The bus was quite comfortable and after just over two hours deposited us at the outskirts of Chiang Khong. A frenzied tuk-tuk driver sped through the town and dropped us at the Thai river border. Here after perfunctory inspections we bought tickets for the Mekong crossing. You wander down the shore to the sandy river edge where various motorised canoes are beached and climb on. The river is quite narrow in the dry season and the crossing to Houei Xai only takes a few minutes. The Lao side is more officious with visa on arrival details, but a little lighter in the wallet and sandier more generally we arrived at our chosen guest house, the Saybadee. Even better, the guide book suggested the unpromising looking Nutpop restaurant that surprised us by producing food of such presentation and quality that it would not have been out of place in London or Paris.
After waking up to the usual cacophony of roosters and dogs, we left Pak Beng in an even more luxurious boat, again just the four of us and outnumbered by crew. Beautiful trip downstream through minor rapids with mountains either side of the valley. We stopped to walk around a Hmung tribe village, many smiling ladies selling handicrafts and kids, dogs and a pig milling around in the dust.
Then onwards with a superb lunch prepared onboard to Pak Ou caves. we had been travelling through increasingly metamorphic rocks, but here mountains of limestone presented towering river cliffs either side of the Mekong. The caves were overpopulated by thousands of votive figurines of Buddha.
Reaching Luang Prabang slightly before sunset, Phet organised a tuk tuk to carry us to the Lotus Villa Hotel. This is a pleasant elegantly styled boutique hotel set back from the waterfront on a quiet shady street.
Wednesday February 17th
Luckily managed to contact the boat company by email last night and told them which guesthouse we were staying in. We were picked up in the morning by Adisak, the manager, who explained that there was a problem with the river. The water level in the Mekong was so low after months of drought exacerbated by a Chinese dam upstream, that the boat we had booked on couldn't get up to Houei Xai. Instead he led us to another very comfortable riverboat with coach seats on which four of us cruised downstream through increasingly dramatic scenery. Lao villagers were clumped at the water's edge panning for gold whilst their children frolicked in the water, and water buffalo sat nonchalently chewing the cud. We were glad we hadn't taken one of the spray drenched garish long tailed speed boats which zipped past us with their crash-helmet wearing passengers.
Our on-board guide, Phet, explained that the very expensive boat we were otherwise thinking of taking had sunk the previous week after hitting a rock, and we could believe it because there were innumerable jagged rocks sticking out of the riverbed. Two thirds of the way, we had to abandon our boat because of impassable rapids, and walk for twenty minutes scrambling up and down the sandy riverbank to reach another boat downstream. This took us onwards to Pak Beng, a small hamlet (or Lao city) with a comfortable hotel where we stayed the night.
Tuesday February 16th
Up at 6.30am to trek to see or hear gibbons, but again no luck. This time possibly because the trek looped around the guides' camp and I don't expect any self respecting gibbon would have fancied the area. Then a pleasant trek interspersed with seven zipwires back to the base village, and the long dusty trip back to our guesthouse in Houei Xai.
Monday February 15th
Up at 6am to trek to see or hear gibbons, but they were all hiding and silent. Then a long trek to another tree house. The afternoon spent zipping around the area ( except Christine who preferred her sudoku).
The only problem with zipping is that in order for gravity to work, the landing platform needs to be lower than the launch platform. This means that you need to regain thirty metres or so in elevation which is hard work and sticky at these temperatures. But I think the effort is worth it to glide almost half a kilometre across steep sided valleys, watching the jungle canopy drop away to several hundred metres beneath you.
Sunday February 14th
Up bright and early to deposit our rucksacks at the Gibbon Experience offices and leave in a songthaw with day bags. After about an hour and a half we turned off the main road, forded a river and then drove another hour and a half on a dusty, but not bumpy, soil road. Stopping at a village, the party of eight of us plus two guides walked for a couple of hours through jungle paths to the plunge pool of a waterfall. Everyone swam in the icy water or floated on a makeshift bamboo raft. After climbing out of the valley we were fitted with zipwire harnesses, Tthen more walking to the tree house.
The only access to the tree houses is by zipwire. No stairs, ladders, ropes or other means of getting in or out. The tree houses are built around a tree trunk about thirty metres above ground level, roughly hewn wooden platforms with a veranda and thatched roof. The loos have to be seen to be believed. They are the old French style ceramic squat affairs over a hole in the platform. Everything drops thirty metres to fertilise the roots of the tree below.
All meals are brought by the guides by zipwire, consisting of large quantities of sticky rice with pans of largely unidentifiable but tasty vegetables, possibly with some equally unidentifiable stir fried meat, or stir fried egg at breakfast time.
Saturday February 13th
Last year we were deprived of liberty by the Balinese, this year we were deprived of sleep by the Chinese. Throughout the night at 15 to 20 minute intervals, firecrackers were being set off at the Chinese temple about a quarter of a mile away, near the Lak Meang. Each barrage of small staccato explosions is followed by one or two larger detonations which echo across the valley. It is now 7.30 in the morning and they are still at it. The year of the tiger may be auspicious for some, but for most in this area it has started with a completely sleepless night.
However, nothing daunted we had persuaded the hotel to take us to the bus station rather than the airport and caught the 10am bus to Chiang Khong. The bus was quite comfortable and after just over two hours deposited us at the outskirts of Chiang Khong. A frenzied tuk-tuk driver sped through the town and dropped us at the Thai river border. Here after perfunctory inspections we bought tickets for the Mekong crossing. You wander down the shore to the sandy river edge where various motorised canoes are beached and climb on. The river is quite narrow in the dry season and the crossing to Houei Xai only takes a few minutes. The Lao side is more officious with visa on arrival details, but a little lighter in the wallet and sandier more generally we arrived at our chosen guest house, the Saybadee. Even better, the guide book suggested the unpromising looking Nutpop restaurant that surprised us by producing food of such presentation and quality that it would not have been out of place in London or Paris.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Chiang Rai
Friday 12th February
Walked to bus station and caught bus to Wat Rong Khun ( the White Temple). Luckily the man at the information desk could translate and told the driver where we wanted to go, and the driver later told the conductor who made sure we alighted at the correct place.
The wat is about 15km southwest of Chiang Rai, close to the road and is a modern masterpiece. In traditional form, it is entirely coloured white but highlighted with a mosaic of millions of mirror inserts. We were told that a bus might be around in an hour to take us back, but as we reached the main road a songthaw pulled up and whisked us back to town in time for lunch. Tomorrow we enter Laos, so next post is uncertain!
Thursday 11th February
After a breakfast by the lazy flowing river to which Michael Winner would have given his sole superlative 'historic',we Walked into town to find the bus station. Buses to Chiang Khong ( for the Lao border) are frequent and well signed.
Saw lots of Wats on the way including one which had the Emerald Buddha, now in Bangkok but replaced by a 1.5m tall replica carved from a solid piece of jade. As the replica isn't allowed to be the same as the original, it is a few millimeters shorter. Also marvelled at the town clocktower, an exuberance of gilded flame shapes in modern Thai rococo style.
Back to the hotel for a swim, and then walked to see the town's Lak Meang. This is a recent revival of the Buddhist scematic view of the universe, and as it consisted of concentric circles of innumerable phalluses, Christine concluded that the Buddhists had a male viewpoint.
Later took a bicycle rickshaw to the night market and drank Singha beer whilst slight Thai girls gracefully performed traditional dances to both ancient and modern music.
Tuesday 9th February - Wednesday 10th February
Put our rucksacks on our backs at 7am and walked through the cold to Reading station to catch the Rail-Air coach to Heathrow. Slow traffic delayed the coach, which instead of taking us to terminal 3 dumped us at the central bus station so we had an extra quarter of a mile to walk.
The flight was excellent though, Thai Airways are so attentive and we landed at Bangkok slightly ahead of schedule early Wednesday morning, having lost 7 hours.
Because we had booked the onward flight to Chiang Rai separately, we went through immigration and customs at Bangkok and checked in for the domestic flight. Despite earlier worries about visas everything went smoothly, there were no delays and we landed without incident at Chiang Rai after an hour's comfortable flight.
The hotel minibus was at the airport to pick us up and transfer us to a 6th floor suite at the Dusit Island Resort. The walls are glass on three sides and the bed has enough space for polygamy. The hotel has a fabulous location on an island in the Mae Kok river and I write thislooking out over the sun setting behind the mountains on one side and the river on the other. We had a couple of hours sleep followed by lunch and a swim, and now we will attempt to stay up until 10pm. Unlike the temperatures we left, it is a beautiful 30 degrees centigrade here.
Walked to bus station and caught bus to Wat Rong Khun ( the White Temple). Luckily the man at the information desk could translate and told the driver where we wanted to go, and the driver later told the conductor who made sure we alighted at the correct place.
The wat is about 15km southwest of Chiang Rai, close to the road and is a modern masterpiece. In traditional form, it is entirely coloured white but highlighted with a mosaic of millions of mirror inserts. We were told that a bus might be around in an hour to take us back, but as we reached the main road a songthaw pulled up and whisked us back to town in time for lunch. Tomorrow we enter Laos, so next post is uncertain!
Thursday 11th February
After a breakfast by the lazy flowing river to which Michael Winner would have given his sole superlative 'historic',we Walked into town to find the bus station. Buses to Chiang Khong ( for the Lao border) are frequent and well signed.
Saw lots of Wats on the way including one which had the Emerald Buddha, now in Bangkok but replaced by a 1.5m tall replica carved from a solid piece of jade. As the replica isn't allowed to be the same as the original, it is a few millimeters shorter. Also marvelled at the town clocktower, an exuberance of gilded flame shapes in modern Thai rococo style.
Back to the hotel for a swim, and then walked to see the town's Lak Meang. This is a recent revival of the Buddhist scematic view of the universe, and as it consisted of concentric circles of innumerable phalluses, Christine concluded that the Buddhists had a male viewpoint.
Later took a bicycle rickshaw to the night market and drank Singha beer whilst slight Thai girls gracefully performed traditional dances to both ancient and modern music.
Tuesday 9th February - Wednesday 10th February
Put our rucksacks on our backs at 7am and walked through the cold to Reading station to catch the Rail-Air coach to Heathrow. Slow traffic delayed the coach, which instead of taking us to terminal 3 dumped us at the central bus station so we had an extra quarter of a mile to walk.
The flight was excellent though, Thai Airways are so attentive and we landed at Bangkok slightly ahead of schedule early Wednesday morning, having lost 7 hours.
Because we had booked the onward flight to Chiang Rai separately, we went through immigration and customs at Bangkok and checked in for the domestic flight. Despite earlier worries about visas everything went smoothly, there were no delays and we landed without incident at Chiang Rai after an hour's comfortable flight.
The hotel minibus was at the airport to pick us up and transfer us to a 6th floor suite at the Dusit Island Resort. The walls are glass on three sides and the bed has enough space for polygamy. The hotel has a fabulous location on an island in the Mae Kok river and I write thislooking out over the sun setting behind the mountains on one side and the river on the other. We had a couple of hours sleep followed by lunch and a swim, and now we will attempt to stay up until 10pm. Unlike the temperatures we left, it is a beautiful 30 degrees centigrade here.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Preparations....
We've been jabbed with inocculations, sent away for visas, booked flights and boats. The biggest unexpected expense has been anti-malaria tablets. Yesterday we bought rucksacks. Just got to pack them and we are off!
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