Vang Vieng and Remembering How It Feels To Wear Socks
We checked out of Wonderland and made our way to the northern bus station.
Which is very different than the southern bus station, as the tuk tuk driver informed us as he happily took our thousands of kip and drove us from Wrong bus station across town to Right bus station.
Our backpacks where thrown on the roof of the minivan, along with a wicker basket of chickens! Live ones.
The road to Vang Vieng, about a four hour drive, was so bumpy and rutted, it felt like whip lash and a chiropractic adjustment.
The minivan radio flickered between communist, static Lao news reports and Lady Gaga. The local couple that sat beside Ali and me, smiled and tried to chat with us. With neither party understanding the topic of conversation.
Ali put on her neck pillow and starting reading ( She finally broke down and is starting Harry Potter! About time!)
The Lao man pointed at her pillow then at his lady friend. We all laughed and ALi gave it to her to try on...
But the woman just kept it and ended up falling asleep with it for the rest of the ride.
Surprisingly enough we got to Vang Vieng two hours early!
The mountains here are. Stunning.
We found a little guest house to drop our stuff and headed down to the river. We waded across and wandered paths through the rice patties.
We couldn't stop staring, we couldn't close our mouths and just kept saying "Where ARE we?"
The sun was setting over looming mountains and town was starting to glow.
It was like the place we'd been looking for but just hadn't found in Thailand.
We'd arrived!
We had coffee at a family cafe.
Lao ice coffee is so thick and sweet. We were drinking down, too fast I guess, and the mamma who ran the cafe came over and said "Slowly, slowly!"
We came into that cafe every single day we stayed in Vang Vieng. For coffee or kebabs or BBQed fish and spicy sauce!
We got to know the teenage boy, who would try and teach us Lao, only to laugh at our efforts.
Sissy, who was always borrowing the motorbike.
Papa, who never worked, but just sat looking out at the road and people walking by.
And little Oops, maybe 4 or 5, riding his bike, or playing with popit fireworks.
In we'd walk and say "Sabaidee! Saa saa! Saa saa!" Means SLOWLY SLOWLY!
We got to go spelunking in four caves, wandering deep under the ground. One spot you could jump on and it made the whole cave resound like a drum. Another had a river running through. Plopping onto inner tubes, we pulled ourselves along a rope tied to the walls.
We finished the day with a 6km kayak trip back to town.
Vang Vieng is really only a destination because of its tubing and the various Happy products that one can purchase before, after or during the float. So bars line the side of the river. Mee told us it was time for a beer break, not sure if it was part of the tour or if he was just thirsty and we seemed like a good time...
Sitting on bamboo mats, drinking Beerlao (the only beer in Laos). Mee taught us all kinds of Lao words for weather, cave names, and how to say Lady boy.
We would repeat what he said and he'd say "No itz ok, itz ok, no problem... Itz no good." Then "Itz ok, itz ok, Lao people will understand."
But some where between the weather terms and two beers. Our little Mee got D-runk!
We got back into our boat and Ali leaned over "I think we got our tour guide wasted..."
He sat himself at the wrong end of the kayak and paddled it with the butt sticking up out of the water. Started calling us lady boys and laughing this crazy laugh.
But somehow still paddled twice as fast as Ali and I... Yep he was the best!
Our boy Mee
Vieng mountains and moo cows
Cave buddha
There was a local noodle shop we went to almost everyday.
Because we were on a mission on sorts...
We had stumbled out of bed and into the hot Lao sun in search of breakfast. We passed the noodle shop just as they were opening.
"Noodles for breakfast. Yeah?"
"Yeah."
We pointed at some things on the table and she tossed in fresh veggies, black soy bean tofu, herbs and poured a spicy coconut broth over top. Ali and I were silent for the whole bowl. Just slurping and wiping our chins.
That soup was "Bomb.com" -Ali
And so the next day we came back and tried to explain...
"Tofu?"
"No tofu, chicken."
So everyday it was a different kind of soup, one day it was mystery meat or spicy clear broth. Everyday she was grumpy, no matter how much we tipped her or how many "Krap chai eh eh." we told her. But Ali would say behind her back "I know you made this with love! It's somewhere in there!"
And man she still made killer soup!
One night Ali and I put on our socks and went in search of the bowling ally. It was few Kilometers (eh eh see how faux European I'm getting?) out side of town. Down these muddy, dark, back roads.
When we walked in the door we were worried they were closed, all the lights were off and not a soul was inside...
But as soon as we stepped in, a man ran out from behind the counter.
Flick. On go the lights, then the music. "SAABAIDEE!"
We paid for one game and then went over to pick out our shoes.
The man say "Oh no, no, no 5,000 extra."
"Oh well do we need shoes?"
"No."
"Ok."
We bowled the whole game in our socks! I pulled these socks out of the very bottom of my back, I was gonna give them their due time!!
After we started our game, a bunch of locals came in. They bowled in flip flops. The music got louder and the Beerlao bottles stacked up. One local took it upon himself to improve our horrific bowling skills.
His advice as he pointed down the lane "...Aim."
Ali won! Twice...
She aimed, I guess.
We walked home barefoot. Squishy, muddy toes, with my socks in my pocket.
We were in Vang Vieng about a week, A few sick days, a bunch of lazy days. Ali had bought her ticket back to Bangkok and our traveling together time was running out.
On her last day, I surprised her with a hot air balloon! We were chilling in our room when the tour guide knocked on our door. I grabbed her shoes and mine. And pulled her out the door.
She stared deleting photos, knowing wherever we were going she would want to be a tourist about it. And we had both ran out of room on our cameras.
As we pulled up the balloon was already stretched across the field.
Ali finally looked up and screamed! Making our fellow ballooners jump...or wish they had taken another tour.
I think we have that effect on people pretty often...
The blew it up with a huge fan. It took eight Lao men to hold it on the ground. Before we rose silently upward. Clinging to the poles, watching our shadow wiggle across the fields.
From the sky you could see the fires burning through fields, that gave the horizon it's smoggy look.
We spotted our hotel. And maybe through the window we saw our grumpy receptionist Chris and saw all of his troubles. Maybe. No can really tell from that height.
We passed by family parties, where men pretended to throw us... Beerlaos. Little kids waved, the cows were indifferent.
The balloon sunk lower and lower skimming the trees. Our driver chatted away on his walky-talky, not noticing the taller branch sticking up, quickly approaching.
Ali and I reached out our hands laughing, thinking maybe we could touch them... But they came close and we didn't go any higher. Everyone ducked and screamed as the basket crashed through to the other side... Lao style baby.
When we finally wobbled out of our basket, we what better way to celebrate being alive than BBQed fish and spicy sauce?
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