The One About Nirvana, Monks and Finding a Laos Lettuce Wrap Lady

The city of Luang Prabang, Laos is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

Doing as the monks do, we woke with the rising sun to witness Binthabhat; the daily ritual of giving alms to monks. 
Giving alms is just another way for travellers to get scammed or ripped off. You can barter for your alms, but this just seems a shame in the light of what is suppose to be a good cause. No bartering took place for us here, but to pay 40,000 kip (four U.S. dollars)for a couple scoops of sticky rice is outrageous. I had heard the price go as low as 10,000 kip.

The act of giving alms is believed by Theravadan Buddhists to be a means of earning brownie points leading to a better afterlife or reducing the amount of times one is re-born, or reincarnated, before finding nirvana. Not the band, but a mental cleansing of the Three Poisons: lobha, dvesha and moha, or greed, hate and ignorance. It is thought to free you from the cycle of death, rebirth and the troublesome effects of karma.  If you are wondering, Kurt Cobain was indeed a practicing buddhist and after his cremation a handful of his ashes are said to have been given to a buddhist monk to make a tsatsu (a memorial sculpture). You can help but wonder if monks think...if I find nirvana, will Kurt Cobain be there? Although they abstain from speech and many modern luxuries, monks are contradictingly quite with the times - doubling on a scooter to using cellphones and surfing the net (image of monk using a computer). In Thai wedding rituals the ceremony will actually come to halt for the men in robes to break for a Coke,  http://www.thaiworldview.com/bouddha/wed1.htm.

Wats in Luang Prabang? Lots of French colonial-style architecture, cafes and shops. Unlike many countries around the world who's most redundant mark of modern day culture is a Starbucks on every corner, there actually isn't a Starbucks in Laos at all. Instead, streets are sprinkled with multiple wats (temples); there are more than 30 wats in Luang Prabang. Climbing the 300 or so steps to the top of Mount Phousi, one of the most impressive views in this small city can be found. Half way up the stairs you'll find local ladies selling woven, bamboo cages with live birds inside. It took me a while to figure out that the chirping was coming from inside the bamboo cages (a very Zoolander computer files moment). You can buy one (10,000 kip) and release the bird at the top of Phousi for good luck. It was explained to me that these women actually find these freed birds and recapture them for the next batch of freeing-fanatic tourists.

The Pak Ou Caves in Luang Prabang, which are usually reached by riding upstream on a boat, contain a number of impressive rock formations, and miniture statues placed by the very first worshippers and preserved by their descendants. Our long-tail boat trip to the caves was interesting, sadly with the caves being the sortest part. Docking, our guide told us we'd have 30 minutes to spend exploring...and of course there would be the largest group of Chinese tourists arriving at the exact same time. We'd shuffle and contort our way behind the umbrella ridden crew on the most overcast of days. We'd be given a good half hour to visit the driver's friend's whiskey plantation on the way. We'd dock and were told we'd have to pay 10,000 kip each to visit. I had no problem supporting the local people, but when you pay the initial price for the Pak Ou Cave with whiskey tasting included it's hard to resist the tear-jerking pout. Again - the tricky Laos at work. We would get ourselves a free tasting of some homebrewed lao lao whiskey.

Lao Lao is a rice whiskey made in Laos  Various flavoured lao-laos are made by macerating such additives as honey, scorpions or snakes. Suckers for a good time, we grabbed a bottle. That bottle has since gone on to provide much in the way of entertainment and sanity on some very interesting bus rides through Laos.

I'd heard that Laos baguettes were to die for, but sadly they fell short offering little flavour and for that matter lacking sandwich satisfaction. I did, however, discover the lettuce wraps. We had been told to find the lettuce wrap lady on the a street corner that leads down from the Spicy Laos hostel heading in the direction of the night market. San Diego Brandon had been given specific orders from a friend to try these little delicacies if ever in Luang Prabang. So the slow boat crew set out to find the Laos Lettuce Wrap Lady. We found her perched on a bed of grass with a folding a trillion little bundles of goodness. Fresh leaves of green filled with cilantro, mint, rice noodles, bean sprouts, cardamom and peanut paste. The Yank insisted the lettuce wraps be included in this posting. "How could you forget the wraps? That nut sauce was so good" were the exact words...nut sauce.

When you find the easily missed 'food alley', you've found Luang Prabang's food heaven. the strip is soley dedicated to food and a hungry travellers mecca. You can score a full plate of buffet-style grub for a dollar. A little bag of six lettuce rolls is 5,000 kip. Cheap.

The Limey

Floating Pigs, Black Outs and Slow Boating the Mekong

From Chiang Mai we would head north to the Laos border town Huay Xai enroute to Luang Prabang. Not making it to Huay Xai on time (buses only running certain times a week/day), we were left to spend a night on the Thai river bank across from Laos in a town called Chiang Khong. Vacant and dark by the time we arrived, we were lucky to find accommodations before things got even darker when the town's power went out entirely. We sat at a local's house chowing on morning glory and cashew chicken when, POOF!, sudden darkness. The town's only fuse box blew. Finding our way back to the guest house was interesting. That mini travel light I had never used would really have come in handy at that moment...Waiting for your eyes to adjust wasn't much help either; it was pitch black.

As slow boating trips up and down the Mekong River have become popular amongst travellers, the remote town of Pakbeng has developed itself into a middle ground between northern Thailand and Luang Prabang - backpackers and visitors are made to stop over and spend the night in one of many operating guesthouses after one day of boating. Pakbeng itself is merely a hill peppered by lodgings for travelling river goers. We were forewarned of the mobbing by locals advertising their homes as a place to stay once berthed.  Workers on the boat will tell you that there's little left in the way of accommodations if you wait to find lodgings once you get there, but really, this is just one of the many ways the Laos people try and rip you off. Depending on how fussy you are, there are loads of options.

Things you can expect to see along the way: local fishermen setting up their nets; locals bathing in the garbage-filled water; nude children running down the riverbank waving at the boats like crazy; herds of water oxen wading in the shallows and rolling in the dirt.  Of all the scenes, by far the most shocking was the floating pig I saw swirling amongst some waste.

Spending two days on the boat gives you lots of time to think, read, drink, eat what have you. It's also a great bonding time for backpackers to share tales of the road. First, come the introductions and meeting each other. As people began to trickle in, a mini Himalayan mountain of backpacks had been formed, we'd see a hard-to-miss 6 foot 5, basketball-built dude sporting the trendy "I read books and like fine art" glasses look. Heading toward us, and getting an ear full of high-volume conversation from a group sitting near us, the nerdy giant shouted out "Man, I hate Americans." Of course The Yank's ears perked up, but more so because the guy spoke in a very American English.  We'd pipe in with a rebuttal followed by amendments, clarification, high fives and new found friend in San Diego Brandon (an army serviceman and personal caddie to some big names like Bill Clinton) - oddly finding each other across Laos and in Cambodia.

Lao Lao whiskey is fun to drink, but more fun watching someone else drink it. A fellow boat mate Danger Dan (named on account of his hurting himself a few times, twice on the boat trip alone) took a big swig and a few minutes later spewed over the port side. Good thing the boat was only drudging along. If you visit Pakbeng you're sure to meet the town drunk. He's a googly eyed, stumbling, dirty Laos man, he's not Danger Dan from Australia, although the appearance is scarily similar.

We'd make it to Luang Prabang and were ready for some Spicy Laos.

Note: It is possible to make the boat trip in eight hours in a fast boat, but that's sitting for eight solid hours with no stopping.

PS: Slow boating the Mekong has been listed amongst the top 100 things to do before you die.

The Limey

A Day with Mr. Ping Pong

From Phuket we'd head north to a place famous for its mountains and greenery. Compared to the rest of Thailand, it's visually quite different; not only the landscape and food, but the people are a whole different breed. This is Chiang Mai.

Parting ways from our dear friends in Thailand planning to re-meet again in Luang Prabang, Laos, we'd head north into the lush green of Chiang Mai. Not very much into tour orientated outings, preferring to do things on our own, we felt lazy and signed ourselves up for a guided tour - to include an orchid sanitary, the long neck tribes, a waterfall hike, white water rafting, bamboo rafting and another elephant ride.

Waking at the crack of dawn one morning we were welcomed by a stout, afro-haired, Thai guy with about as much energy as a kid after too much Kool-aid, a devil tattooed on his neck and an interesting habit of lifting up his shirt and rubbing down his belly. Let's begin with the introduction. The big 35 year-old Thai kid told us his name was P********ng......exactly.....so we should call him Mr. Ping Pong instead. An unfortunate choice given our whereabouts and since ping-pong didn't bring the nicest images to mind.

Setting off in the back of a truck with nothing securing us to our seats, we drove faster than the speed of light into the Chiang Mai jungle to find a hidden waterfall. Hitting a dip in the road didn't seem to phase our guide who'd speed up for the dips sending us ping ponging around the back of the vehicle. Mr. Ping Pong, now sporting a pair of flashy women's designer shades, would smile in the rear view mirror and say "Don't worry...you never die alone." Out of the truck, we'd set out on our hike. Now and then, Ping Pong would take off into the jungle and disappear for mintues on end...popping out from behind a tree to remind us "Don't worry...you never die alone." Mr. Ping Pong, I was worried...worried that we were all going to die in a Chiang Mai jungle because I murdered the tour guide for his painful attempts at humor. That, or the fact that he'd chosen to wear his grandma's best slippers on a jungle trek.

A trip to the elephant sanctuary would be totally unsafe and one of the most memorable moments so far. We hopped on the back of an elephant, seated on a plank of wood that was better fit for small Thai people than Morgan-size. Just like Mr. Ping Pong had taken off on our trek, so did our mahout (an elephant driver). Wondering at least five feet ahead of us, Mr. Mahout would pull out his personal machete to cut off bamboo leaves for our snacky elephant. Mr. Mahout asked me if I wanted to sit on the elephants head, so I bravely stepped out of the wobbly chair and onto the prickly neck of the giant mammal. Note to self...don't wear shorts while elephanting I thought as hundreds of coarse broom-stick-thick hairs chaffed my inner thighs. All was going smoothly until Mr. Elephant's appetite kicked up again and he'd mozy into the brush with me nearly tumbling off head first...literally. This would happen a few other times, but only next time it would be at the edge of a cliff. Mr. Mahout was too busy finding more bamboo to fillet.

Hands down one of the unsafest things we'd do in Thailand was the white water rafting. The equipment they gave us fit one size of person, that's man size, so I was already swimming in my gear and hadn't even hit the water yet. The tour guide was interesting though. He sang and laughed to himself and kept reminding us that he didn't know how to swim. He'd also hop out of the raft and leave Morgan to steer us on.WTF? Number One - Morgan doesn't know what he's doing...Number Two - you can't swim?!. Morgan, two Italian girls and I floated aimlessly down the river forced to beach ourselves once we were told by someone on land that we'd gone too far....looking back we'd see our tour guide on a bamboo raft making his way down stream to us.

Back in the trunk, the crazy driving barely phased us after the days events. Pulling over to the side of the road numerous times without any warning and without telling us where he was going, Mr. Ping Pong would return with snacks and other interesting Thai treats - one including some rice filled sausage that tasted unexpectedly fishy.

Mr. Ping Pong, Lindsay and Morgan's Excellent Adventure love you. If anyone should need or want a very interesting tour guide in Chiang Mai, let us know. We'll get you in touch.


The Limey

The Boxing Bar, Makeshift Barbed Wire, Snot, Bugs, Jellyfish and a McWedding

Famous for its jutting islands dotting the teal waters, we made it to Ko Phi Phi.  Following the 2007 tsunami that hit Thailand, much of the island was completely destroyed; to aid in its preservation, a fee is now charged to enter (20 baht). After basking in the sun (and some of us forgetting to rotate) on the warm wheat-coloured sand banks, we cruised around the narrow stalls looking for someThai buckets. The Reggae Bar, coming highly recommended from friends and past visitors to the island, was the perfect place to kick back and jam out to some classic Bob Marley and if you got there in time, a free BBQ and two for one buckets. Even better, is the Thai choice of entertainment. Yes, there is the thai boxing, but the owners of Reggae Bar thought it would be funny to put a boxing ring right in the middle of the establishment...strictly for farang versus farang matches (farang is the Thai word for foreigner). The draw - the winner receives a free meal and a Thai bucket - the loser...one trip to the dentist. After polishing off bucket number one, we watched as two Brits geared up and muscled the ring. A few solid slugs were more humourous than damaging, but then one POW broke half of someone's tooth sending it whizzing past our faces. It made for a great picture and scored big points with the ladies. We'd hang arond long enough for some real Thai boxers to show the crowd how it's done. It was neat to see, but really, it was just like watching the WWF except with mini Thai guys making really femanin tennis player noises.

Thai people are reknown for their non-confrontational debonair. Many visitor leaflets will warn you that getting angry in public is highly discouraged. This rather peaceful and difficult to believe characteristic poses the question of how the Thais really feel about eachother, especially where there's safety involved? Do they fear the same things we do? Do they argue and fight the same way? Are they worried about their safety? A quick look at their driving and you'd think, HECK NO! Well, they do in fact care about their safety...just not on the road. On Railay Beach we would witness some homemadeThai barbed wire. Rows of broken glass bottles lined up along cement walls surrounding several houses could be seen along the trail connecting both sides of the island. Quams for the driving, but kuddos to the recycling.

Back on the mainland, visiting with friends at Surin beach, we'd sign up for an elephant ride. This would be the first of two elephant rides we'd experience in Thailand, each providing its own surprises. Elephant riding in Phuket is probably the most expensive place to try it, but fun and exciting none the less. For starters, our guide, a Nepalise mahoot, was casually sitting atop the elephant's head,  his legs and feet dangling behind the creatures fan-like ears. In hand was an elephant hook used to help guide and steer. Of course, it would be our elephant that would remain at the end of the pack. Old and slow, it felt like we were gliding in slow motion. Every now and then the elephant would make this terrible grunting sound followed by a wet, goobery shower that would land all over us. This would happen a few more times and wasn't until the end of the ride that we would find out that our poor elephant had a cold. That's snot so cool Mr. Elephant...its just snot!

A trip into Bangla Road, the popular entertainment strip in Patong, we'd stroll past some market tents along the boardwalk. While many farang perused racks of cheap clothing or chowing down pad-thai, Morgan and I decided it was high time we try some bugs-on-a-stick. The Thais seemed to like them and they seemed alright. And in all honesty, it helps to attempt doing this with a little bit of a buzz on and a steady mindframe of "these probably all taste like chicken anyway." Trying to communicate in my best pantomimed Thai that we only wanted a few bugs and not a bag full as the lady kept attempting, we finally tried bugs. A couple of fatty grubs and some crickets airplaned into our mouths followed by wings crunching between teeth. At first it was very much a chickeny taste, and then the taste, best described as an unkept zoo, fills the mouth. "Wow, that tasted like manuer mixed with hay..." said Morgan very articulately, but spot on.

We would find ourselves very well taken care of and spoiled while in Surin. Sara's parents, Susan and Greg Smallenberg, welcomed us to join them for several dinner's out, including a very interesting and well-liked place called Nok and Joe's. A restaurant run by Joe, a Canadian and his Thai wife, Nok. The pad-thai was the best we'd have in Thailand. Over one of our many meals together, Greg handed me a much anticipated article that he claimed would save me tons of money on a future wedding. Sure enough, I'd glance at the title and keel over in stiches of laughter. Beginning in January 2011, Hong Kong McDonald's started offering a McWedding package that includes the ceremony, reception, wedding cake and catering for up to 100 people, all for the Mcdeal amount of, wait for it, less than $2000. http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2055444,00.html

Athough momentarily painful, Surin was a blast. There's no scar, and I'm amazed that there isn't, but during a nice afternoon swim, the tenticles of a jellyfish would connect with my leg and send me screaming like a baby out of water. Stinging beyond belief, the long wrigly lines began to welt in angry redness. Morgan offered to pee on me, but thankfully the local beachguards were prepared with vinegar to save me from a man tenticle disaster. Check out one of the many well worded Thai signs advertising extra special food and beverage.

To Susan and Greg Smallenberg, we thank you for your more than generous kindness.

The Limey and The Yank

Thieves, Toplessness and Aussie bums

Our rejection from Syria would send us back to the Turkish border. Hopping in a cab, we headed straight for the nearest airport. With only one operating flight a day, and flights to Istanbul only scheduled every other day, and as much as luck hadn't been playing nice on this particular day, we found a deserted airport and scored a flight - we'd just have to wait 6 hours. Normally this type of airport wait isn't too much of a problem since there's generally lots of food and shops to waste your time, but this airport was in the sticks. There were no shops, but there was a food vendor selling only chips and chocolate. We'd just have to wait four hours first for him to show up, as the sign read. Arriving back in Istanbul, annoyingly in the wrong dirction from which we had intended, we'd buy a flight to Bangkok, Thailand.

Yes there'd be beaches, buckets and lady boys, but we were also going for educational purposes. And not the kind that comes from any of the aforementioned. Morgan would be taking a TESOL course to teach English for the next four weeks in Phuket, located on Thailand's south western coast. Getting there would involve a pink Disney VIP bus, a midnight bus transfer, a broken tuktuk and a local bus. Ironically it would be the happy, smiley Beauty and the Beast Disney experience that would leave us soured. Sometime during the night ride to Surat Thani Morgan felt something brush up on his legs which he had splayed out in comfort as we'd scored the prime front seats. Opening his eyes a crack, he noticed a body reaching over his leg and an arm touching our bags. Stirring him awake, the body ducked away back down the double-decker stairs. We'd check our bags in the dark, but all seemed good. All except my little case of ear plugs that is. Yeah that's right. The jerk snagged my plugs. I would spend the next month in Thailand scoping the markets for them and conclude that Thailand was in the middle of an earplug shortage crisis.

Making it to Phuket after 30 hours of solid busing, we'd find our studio room we'd call home for the next six weeks. It came with a TV, fridge, AC, a balcony, a bathroom with a western-style toilet and a shower that would only run cold water, that's if the water was running on that particular day... Making it home we'd find a laundermat just down the road that we couldn't resist, Dang Laundry. No kidding.

While Morgan would spend his days in school, I'd make my way down to Patong Beach - listed in Lonely Planet as the ugliest beach in Phuket. Sun tanning, swimming, repeat...it was a busy life what can I say. I do believe it is against the law to go topless on the beaches of Thailand, but that doesn't sway many a Euro traveller. Most days I would find myself in the midst of an all ages boob party. Jugs every which way I'd turn. On one particular day, a group of three young Swedish girls decided to park themselves right infront of me on some sun chairs and go topless. With the chairs comes a little dusting brush to keep the sand off you, and the girls found it amusing to start frolicking about smacking eachother with it. As you can probably imagine this would attract quite a lot of attention. So much so, I actually watched two over-oiled dudes walk SMACK! into eachother. One being much shorter got a face full of man oil and sweat. It's a fine skill, people watching and sometimes it's just about luck. I think it was some days later I'd spot an elder gentlemen who'd had his white chest hairs braided and beaded. Sorry for the lack of photography here, I know how badly you all wanted to see the beaded man...Check out the Thai skin cutting being done just across from me (aka callus cutting).

On several nights we'd walk down to Bangla Road; famous for it's night life, lady boys, and ping-pong shows. Of all the monotonous soliciting of suits, watches, massages and ping pong show sales pitches, our favourite encounter would be when a man would ask us "g'day mate, you wanna suit, mate?" except in a very confusing Aussie accent. Was this guy some Thai-Aussie mutation? Possible, except for the fact this guy was very clearly Indian. For some reason after five months of travel we had become so easily confused for dirty Aussie bums.

The Limey