Unexploded Ordanance, Anyone?
Greetings to you all, or as we say in the Laos Peoples' Democratic Republic - Sabadee!
So, we're finally here in Laos - the most bombed country on the planet - after a three day spurt of travel that involved a lot of slow boats, and not many cushions.
Here's the rundown - I'm Richard Archbold,
Friday took us by minibus from Chiang Mai, to the Laos border, where we stayed in a pokey little guesthouse overlooking the Mekong. Although our bus was full of all the folk we'd soon be sharing a very tightly packed boat with, I didn't really make enough effort to meet them all, as my head was buried in Michael Crichton's 'Airframe'. Standard procedure after a full day in the minivan is to fall straight into bed, but we persevered (bacon sandwiches across the road) and watched a couple of movies.
If you're unfortunate enough to ever find yourself strapped into a chair, with your feet in a bucket of leeches, and matchsticks propping your eyes open, Stephen King's 'Secret Garden' is enough to make you ask for more leeches. This author recommends you do not watch it, under any circumstances.
We started on the 'slow boat' early the next morning, from whence the glory of the Mekong became very quickly apparent. After a cursory customs check and immigration, we waited in a cafe for a few hours before boarding our longboat and heading inland.
Our boat was oversold (I know! Here in Laos, of all places!) at least twice over, so seats were at a premium. Still, there was much gawking over the gunwhales and general "oo-ing" and "aah-ing". There was also quite a bit of "cripes I'm glad I'm not on that-ing" as the faster and more expensive speedboats roared past. Crash helmets are optional, but recommended. As my friend Stefan said, you know that if they're wearing a helmet here, that it must be reeeeeaallly frikkin' dangerous!
A prop failure near the end of the second day left us stranded by a very small village for an hour, where there was some idle chit-chat, and handing out of pencils to the local children. I think it's fair to surmise they don't get a lot of balding guys with massive sideburns and a handlebar mustache around these parts...
Still, we made it to Pek Bang for the night, halfway to our destination, and had a night there. I have learnt this much so far;
- Lizards can come in any colour,
- Beer Lao beats any Thai beer hands down. Don't try Wine Lao though...
- The Mekong is big.
After a candlelit dinner with The Irish, The Swedish, and The American, we rolled into bed, our bellies filled with baguettes (something good did in the end come of the French occupation of these parts...)
Our second day was longer, and much harder to endure as the bruises on my gluteals were really starting to smart by now.
Anyway, there was a lot of shuffling position, standing up (ooooo, standing up really starts to feel pretty fun after a long time sitting), and watching the dirty old river - whirlpools and all.
Luang Prabang is spectacularly beautiful, embodied perfectly by yesterday's visit to Koung-Xi waterfall. I've never had my breath taken away so rapidly as when I rounded the track and saw this little beauty. We spend quite a while there, swimming in the pools at the bottom, and just generally being agape at how fantastic 'The Nature' is.
Time's running out for this man's day, so I'd better wrap up today's report for the Cheviot Bugle, and let you get back to peeling the beans.
Lastly, I would like to issue - in the public forum of Rakish Richard's Rants - an apology. It would seem that in my last post, whilst lauding my first encounter with a tropical disease, my mind was elsewhere - as I forgot the undeniable fact that my very dear friend Brian Stern was in fact the first person I knew to catch a tropical disease. Not only was he first, but he also gets extra style points because it was the dreaded Dengue Fever.
Brian, I boobed, and I'm sorry.
It should be noted that this does not in any way detract from the suffering, anguish, and general lethargy experienced by the Tinseltowners in their encounter with the mystery 'tropical disease'. I am happy to report they are now safely in London, from where they will be providing financial and sartorial advice to the best of their abilities.
Well, tomorrow we head to The Plain of Jars, a bunch of sites (mostly cleared of bombs) covered with hundreds of large (up to two tonnes!) stone jars. No-one really knows what they're for or why they're there - I'm guessing a colossal pickling monopoly, but the theory's not going down well at the local museum - but it should be good for a look. I'm told there's also a crashed F-105 Thunderchief (don't know how that got there, seeing as there was never any 'official' American action over Laos…) which you can be sure I'll be going to have a look at. Berin, how's your model plane coming along?
Your man, certain there's a Douglas Skyraider gathering dust in Hatsukaichi,
Arch :)
2 Comments:
sabadee! sawadee! do they have macadamia chicken there?
ps. i don't think brian minded. it was just me pretending to be him anyway. sorry brian.
Extra-special thanks to the Berin-Apparently my contribution to society is still burning inside of someone's heart. B--you are my German potatoes. I'd been following the discussion all along, but in deference to my budding political career thought it best not to address such issues. So i'll plead the fifth and with humility and thanks and allow the berin to continue carrying the torch for all of the forgotten. Arch--i'm in L.A. for the next few weeks so don't even be tryin to call me. Big ups to your volleyball and all my homeys in the clink, b
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