Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Vang Vieng, Laos

It was gratifying that the morning we were to leave Luang Prabang we were still able to wake up early to see the alms giving. This time we decided to walk to the main street. We were on our way when halted by a woman indicating us to buy the sticky rice for the monks. Under her spell, we followed her, turning back to a corner of a street where we just came from. She spread a mat on the pavement and signalled for us to wait there. Sheepishly, we stood there in the cold waiting and getting more confused seeing no others except the locals and mobile vendors who passed by and implored us to buy their merchandise. The woman kept assuring us that the monks would be passing by by pointing to the routes that they will take. 

It was a relief seeing the monks finally appeared. It was hilarious as our initial aim is to photograph the ceremony and not joining in. The rice was quickly dispersed and we bought some from that woman again. We must be really under her charm. It was a moment of dumbstruck when she pulled out the changes of crumpled money from inside her bra.

Too bad ain't no pictures here as they are in Monkey's camera which she said will send to me NEXT year, no kidding.

We still manage to have our porridge with 'you tiao' - fried breadstick in pairs - and strolled the market looking for sticky rice, alas, the lady that we bought the sticky rice from yesterday was not there, before running walking back to the guesthouse for our tuk tuk to the bus station.
The morning scenery along the road was so awakening. The hills were still blanketed in seas of clouds as we circled the edge of the hill in the shaking and rattling bus. It's not the bus, it's the road. We were treated to the images of houses and villages along the way. When the bus finally stopped for a rest, we discovered it was just at the edge of the slope which enabled us to take in the vast spread of the scenery of the hills.

The temperature increased as we moved closer to Vang Vieng. It had way passed the noon by the time we arrived at Vang Vieng's bus station after the gruelling journey of 6 to 7 hours. As we walked out of the station, we were still contemplating whether to walk or hail a tuk tuk to the town. 3 km walk does not seem short far. When a tuk tuk driver shouted at us, offering 5000 kips per person to the town, we graciously took the offer. Blame it on the heavy backpack and the dust that we are going to inhale if we walk.

When the tuk tuk stopped us in front of the guesthouse that we wanted to stay, we were perplexed as the name bore a bit difference. After consulting our GPS map, we decided that it was the right one. We got ourselves a triple room with bathroom. All the time travelling in Laos, we had not make any room reservations. It was arrive and look for place to stay and to ask to see the room first before deciding.

The exchange rate was not so encouraging and we were running out of kips. We changed enough with our guesthouse to pay for the room and the next morning we went to the bank for better rate.
We decided to start the day by going to the tourist bus station to buy the minivan ticket to Vientiane. We ventured to the road near Song river and watched the school children on bicycles to school.

Children pushing their bicycle up the slopes. This is the path leading to the toll bridge where we later paid 2000 kips each to get across in the late afternoon after running out of activity.

We actually went twice to the tourist bus station. The first being closed and barked by fierce, guarding dogs. We retreated and returned after breakfast. It was open and packed with people waiting. Upon nearing the ticket counter, a woman approached us and inquired our destination. She offered 60000 kips. It was 10000 more than what our guesthouse offered. Sylviaorange regarded her more as a tout than ticket seller. We decided to purchase from our guesthouse instead.
Walking back to the road leading down to the Song river, we came to this wooden stilt bridge. People as well as bicycles and motorcycles were crossing it. Along the way, we saw people getting ready to go tubing or kayaking. In fact, there were many shops offering these activities. The owner of the restaurant that we had our breakfast at told us that mostly the upriver is where the activities are with the people drinking and getting drunk as if advising us there's nothing interesting there.

Crossing the river, we discovered that there are chalet-kind of stay. Indeed, it felt more tranquil with less noise compared to the side we were staying. The scenery is also more picturesque.

A woman in the water gathering seaweeds, the kind we presumed just like the one we saw and bought in Luang Prabang. It was dried and flatten with slices of tomatoes and garlic and white sesames on the sheet. It tasted 'natural.'
The limestone karsts arising and surrounding the town of Vang Vieng.
The perspective beyond the upriver.
One of the harvested banana paddy field that we sneaked in. Smoke was still billowing from the burning hay. We had it all to ourselves till the arrival of three unexpected guests.



Horses gnawing at the field.
Sylviaorange on her photography mission.
Mould growing with Monkey while waiting for Sylviaorange to conquer and turn the field upside down.
The three unexpected guests just rushed in and slid under the barbed fence boisterously.
We bribed beckoned to them to come over and they cautiously approached.

By the time we finished touring along the river, we were so exhausted due to the striking sun. We sought shelter at the same restaurant that we had our breakfast earlier. It was a real daredevil when we ordered spicy papaya salad in Lao style. As a result, we all had our tongue burned and runny nose for underestimating the power of the Laos chilli.
We decided to contribute our money by crossing the toll bridge as there was still hours to kill. Like usual, anything can cross the bridge, vans or mini lorries. The shaking could be felt thought, prompting one to hold tight to the ropes or steels.
Women crossing with basket of goods at their back. Just stand there on the bridge and there are plenty interesting shots.
Monkey bidding goodbye to her hero who saved her TWICE from being squashed by the passing vehicles. This bridge has become her 'ting qing qiao'. Monkey, if you are reading this now, please do not get mad at Lucyriver. Lucyriver will have it scraped if you request.
Water flowing downstream.
The haunting phantom vendor who we bumped into countless time no matter where we were at every possible corner of the village. Initially, we thought that he is selling noodle soup or what. Upon close inspection, he could be selling crockery and cooking utensils.
More women with goods on back.
As we strolled deeper into the village, we came upon a guesthouse with bicycles for rent. Earlier we had said that we wanted to go cycling. On impulse, we grabbed three bicycles with 10000 kips each and moved inward the village.
It was the look of the deserted road that boosted up our courage to take the pedals. We started cautiously with Monkey being the most in ease. Lucyriver had not been on the 'iron horse' for ancient. Imagine cycling back home, either intimidated by fuel-consuming vehicles or fried to crisp by the sun.
Along the way, we stopped and took photographs of the awesome sights. Energy started to drain back to us. This is what we wanted. Scenery and endless of scenery.


The supposedly four-leaf clovers. Faith, Hope, Love and Luck. Instead, we were busy looking for three-leaf. No, we did not find any.
Sylviaorange struggling to come up from the pothole in the beginning. Later, it was a piece of cake for her.
A kid halted just right in front of Lucyriver upon picking up the camera. He was still frozen in that position after the snap. Something must have shaken him.
The school children who were back from school cycling or walking.

Sylviaorange gave her pen to the girl above upon request.
We passed by this harvested field again and was in cloud nine when we found out the cleared path leading inwards to the hill.
We rode as far as the path led as till to a farmer who was there hay burning.
The two-hour cycling journey was indeed a real joy. Of course, it came with a price later that night. The unexpected sore and pain at the arms tortured Lucyriver and Sylviaorange to death. Fortunately, we both got professional massages from Monkey which miraculously reduced the suffering.
The setting of the sun ended our day. We walked back in fatigue but contented after returning the bicycles and wishing that we can do it again.
The joy in Vang Vieng was only felt in the end. We started to contemplate if we want to leave for Vientiane the next day.

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