**Updates at the bottom in red!**
In my previous blogs I've put more emphasis on what we've done and how we've done it rather than describe the actual Laos lifestyle and the type of thing you can expect there.
As I've been on buses for 44 hours in the past 120, I'll start with that.
The bus drivers are maniacs. But that's ok, because all the other road users are all so laid back. Taking an overnight sleeper bus is fine, provided you're not at the front, but that's where we were. We took a King of Bus from Pakse to Vientiane, and as we boarded we were rather impressed with the conditions, it seemed the beds were actually big enough for us. However, in building it some Laotian dude must have started putting beds back at the back, and when they got to the front, found they only hade 5ft left. So the debate must have raged, what do they do about it? The upshot seems to have been sod it, let's just put another bed in, but instead of giving them to our own 5ft nothing locals, we'll make sure we give them to westerners. And laugh about it.
Ha bloody ha. If we wanted to stretch our legs out, we had to sit up, and if we were lying down, our feet were bent back to our bums. Still, we managed it. Didn't really manage to see the countryside on that particular journey in between the 20 second sleeping fits between honking horns and wild swerves, but at least 30 hours on our local buses have been during the day.
A local bus is exactly that. No aircon (not that we needed it as it's been raining the past 4 days) but cramped in with Laotians, whose grannies and young kids alike hock a loogie out the window every few minutes. Add some chickens to the mix, suicidal cows stepping in front of us moving at 80km an hour plus the windiest roads outside of the Alps, and you're in for a treat. Maybe something of a miracle but we ran over nothing, bovine or otherwise.
That's the buses. They're fine, but I'm happy not to take another one for a few days at least.
Lets talk about the country itself. In a word, beautiful. The mist on the mountains, both above and below you, plus the views into the valleys, fully cultivated and ready for the rain to flood their rice paddies are breathtaking. Again no pictures as the lethargy of bus rides simply left me without the will to reach the 6 inches into my pocket for my phone. In these mountains, you pass numerous villages, all made out of bamboo or wood, and extremely well constructed. And not low down, I mean right at the top. What's amazing is that among these buildings, you will see satellite dishes the size of horses adorning their gardens. Apparently they have some creature comforts. But not many. You pass people of all ages on these roads, kids sometimes cycling to school (probably a good 20km away) otherwise villagers making the trip to or from their abode on supply runs. On bicycles, or walking. Add the heat and the rain, and this can't be pleasant. Still, they do it, and they survive, and frankly it amazes me. I'm not completely sure why they built their communities at such altitudes and in seemingly improbable areas, but they have, and they make it work.
As you get into flatter land, these villages are still as numerous, however you see more uses of electricity, and occasionally a mansion. And I do mean a mansion. Constructed in a sort of Spanish Villa style, these are normally 3-4 stories tall, and huge. I'd live there. And I'm picky. They have more livestock/poultry flaoting about in the lowlands as well, but as I've mentioned there are still plenty up on those twisty-turny roads, complete with mad cow or water buffalo looking for that one bus to come along and hit it.
One thing I haven't mentioned is how these local buses also act as a form of informal courrier/postal service. On each journey we took, multiple stops were made (seemingly in the middle of nowhere so how they knew where to stop and at which shack who knows) and a parcel (or chicken) would be offloaded.
There was the option to get a flight from Vientiane to Hanoi for about $20 more than it cost us to bus it, and cut our journey time to 3 hours or so (maybe less) but being the only westerners on our journey for 3 days, we've found that our journey has gotten us closer to the Lao people. We've been shown generosity in the way they share their food without thinking or expecting anything back from us. Yes we get stared at somewhat, and we were cramped as anything for most of the time (normally with a toothless old granny falling asleep on us to boot) but having not travelled the normal routes has shown us a lot more than I belive most people would see.
Our full journey from Pakse to Hanoi stopped off at Vientiane, Phonsavanh and Xam Neua if you want to look them up on a map so you can get some idea of the distance we've covered (unfortunately google maps is crap and doesn't have most cities, and Vientiane is labelled Viang Chang). Now I've done it once I'd probably take a flight next time, but if you can take cramped for a while, plus interesting roadside food which I can be 80% sure is edible, then do it. You'll have done something a lot of people haven't.
I'm afraid I can't remember a lot more right now, but as things come to me I'll update this particular post and highlight the new bits.
We're now in Hanoi, having seen the Plain of Jars in Phonsavanh, a somewhat eerie experience, basically about 400 large granite and limestone jars lying around (as in 4ft high) which the locals claim are 4000 years old. Noone really knows either how old they are or what they were used for, but it's either for holding the possessions of dead people buried under them, or making the local lao lao whiskey. Or maybe a giant game of hide and seek. You choose. Another reason for visiting though is that during the Vietnam war it held strategic importance to both the Vietcong and US forces so was highly contested. Also, US bombers trying to get to north Vietnam would sometimes have to turn back due to bad weather, and as they couldn't risk landing with a full load of ordnance, they would simply drop their bombs on Lao. This province was bombarded so much, it has the record for being the most bombed place per capita in the world. Over 2 tonnes of ordnance for each inhabitant, 30% of which is unexploded (called UXO) and lies under 25% of the useable farmland. As a result, there are 'accidents' each year which kill families and livestock alike. MAG is a local agency, and has been set up to search for and diffuse these rockets and missiles, however funding and a lack of volunteers makes this slowgoing. On visiting the plains you will see signs and markers indicating where is safe to walk and where isn't. Keeping within them is highly advised!
Enough for now, will blog again with more about Hanoi and Halong Bay when we get there.
As I've been on buses for 44 hours in the past 120, I'll start with that.
The bus drivers are maniacs. But that's ok, because all the other road users are all so laid back. Taking an overnight sleeper bus is fine, provided you're not at the front, but that's where we were. We took a King of Bus from Pakse to Vientiane, and as we boarded we were rather impressed with the conditions, it seemed the beds were actually big enough for us. However, in building it some Laotian dude must have started putting beds back at the back, and when they got to the front, found they only hade 5ft left. So the debate must have raged, what do they do about it? The upshot seems to have been sod it, let's just put another bed in, but instead of giving them to our own 5ft nothing locals, we'll make sure we give them to westerners. And laugh about it.
Ha bloody ha. If we wanted to stretch our legs out, we had to sit up, and if we were lying down, our feet were bent back to our bums. Still, we managed it. Didn't really manage to see the countryside on that particular journey in between the 20 second sleeping fits between honking horns and wild swerves, but at least 30 hours on our local buses have been during the day.
A local bus is exactly that. No aircon (not that we needed it as it's been raining the past 4 days) but cramped in with Laotians, whose grannies and young kids alike hock a loogie out the window every few minutes. Add some chickens to the mix, suicidal cows stepping in front of us moving at 80km an hour plus the windiest roads outside of the Alps, and you're in for a treat. Maybe something of a miracle but we ran over nothing, bovine or otherwise.
That's the buses. They're fine, but I'm happy not to take another one for a few days at least.
Lets talk about the country itself. In a word, beautiful. The mist on the mountains, both above and below you, plus the views into the valleys, fully cultivated and ready for the rain to flood their rice paddies are breathtaking. Again no pictures as the lethargy of bus rides simply left me without the will to reach the 6 inches into my pocket for my phone. In these mountains, you pass numerous villages, all made out of bamboo or wood, and extremely well constructed. And not low down, I mean right at the top. What's amazing is that among these buildings, you will see satellite dishes the size of horses adorning their gardens. Apparently they have some creature comforts. But not many. You pass people of all ages on these roads, kids sometimes cycling to school (probably a good 20km away) otherwise villagers making the trip to or from their abode on supply runs. On bicycles, or walking. Add the heat and the rain, and this can't be pleasant. Still, they do it, and they survive, and frankly it amazes me. I'm not completely sure why they built their communities at such altitudes and in seemingly improbable areas, but they have, and they make it work.
As you get into flatter land, these villages are still as numerous, however you see more uses of electricity, and occasionally a mansion. And I do mean a mansion. Constructed in a sort of Spanish Villa style, these are normally 3-4 stories tall, and huge. I'd live there. And I'm picky. They have more livestock/poultry flaoting about in the lowlands as well, but as I've mentioned there are still plenty up on those twisty-turny roads, complete with mad cow or water buffalo looking for that one bus to come along and hit it.
One thing I haven't mentioned is how these local buses also act as a form of informal courrier/postal service. On each journey we took, multiple stops were made (seemingly in the middle of nowhere so how they knew where to stop and at which shack who knows) and a parcel (or chicken) would be offloaded.
There was the option to get a flight from Vientiane to Hanoi for about $20 more than it cost us to bus it, and cut our journey time to 3 hours or so (maybe less) but being the only westerners on our journey for 3 days, we've found that our journey has gotten us closer to the Lao people. We've been shown generosity in the way they share their food without thinking or expecting anything back from us. Yes we get stared at somewhat, and we were cramped as anything for most of the time (normally with a toothless old granny falling asleep on us to boot) but having not travelled the normal routes has shown us a lot more than I belive most people would see.
Our full journey from Pakse to Hanoi stopped off at Vientiane, Phonsavanh and Xam Neua if you want to look them up on a map so you can get some idea of the distance we've covered (unfortunately google maps is crap and doesn't have most cities, and Vientiane is labelled Viang Chang). Now I've done it once I'd probably take a flight next time, but if you can take cramped for a while, plus interesting roadside food which I can be 80% sure is edible, then do it. You'll have done something a lot of people haven't.
I'm afraid I can't remember a lot more right now, but as things come to me I'll update this particular post and highlight the new bits.
We're now in Hanoi, having seen the Plain of Jars in Phonsavanh, a somewhat eerie experience, basically about 400 large granite and limestone jars lying around (as in 4ft high) which the locals claim are 4000 years old. Noone really knows either how old they are or what they were used for, but it's either for holding the possessions of dead people buried under them, or making the local lao lao whiskey. Or maybe a giant game of hide and seek. You choose. Another reason for visiting though is that during the Vietnam war it held strategic importance to both the Vietcong and US forces so was highly contested. Also, US bombers trying to get to north Vietnam would sometimes have to turn back due to bad weather, and as they couldn't risk landing with a full load of ordnance, they would simply drop their bombs on Lao. This province was bombarded so much, it has the record for being the most bombed place per capita in the world. Over 2 tonnes of ordnance for each inhabitant, 30% of which is unexploded (called UXO) and lies under 25% of the useable farmland. As a result, there are 'accidents' each year which kill families and livestock alike. MAG is a local agency, and has been set up to search for and diffuse these rockets and missiles, however funding and a lack of volunteers makes this slowgoing. On visiting the plains you will see signs and markers indicating where is safe to walk and where isn't. Keeping within them is highly advised!
Enough for now, will blog again with more about Hanoi and Halong Bay when we get there.
How many people can you fit on a motorbike? Well so far the answer stands at 4, as that's what I've seen: Father driving, smallest kid in front of him, next kid behind him, mother at the back. You'd think he would drive a tad slower, what with holding the lives of his whole family on the end of a shoestring, but no, the driving is as haphazard as ever.
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