View of Oslofjord from HouseSunday, August 26, 2007
Everyone here in Norway says that the weather has been terrible this summer, but we've seen nothing of it. Sunny, comfortable: no more 36C/90% humidity. (Apparently athletes in Osaka have been collapsing at 33C/78%, so no wonder the running was hard!) We ran five times this week, which may be overdoing it a little but it's so tempting. As I write, I'm looking out at the sails on Oslo fjord. Maybe B will post a picture later, but the truth is that we haven't been anywhere on this trip that is more beautiful than Norway.
1. Most beautiful landscape: in Vietnam, between Sapa and Dien Bien Phu.
2. Noisiest: Hanoi.
3. Friendliest: Nong Kiow, Lao.
4. Furthest from anywhere: Gobi desert, staying with nomad families.
5. Most awesome city: Hong Kong. Not sure most other places are really cities.
6. Most peaceful escape from city: Beijing parks. The city is noisy and busy, but the parks, while full of people, are amazingly relaxing.
7. Worst (and only) sunburn: kayaking in Halong Bay, Vietnam.
8. Places we most want to return to: Laos, Beijing, and Mongolia, in that order.
9. Place we least want to return to: Izmaylovskaya park, Moscow. Or Russia, in general. At least not until we speak Russian.
10. Next major trip: probably the Black Sea.
11. Favorite hotel: Beijing Lotus hostel west of the Forbidden City. It had soft beds, a beautiful courtyard, was outside the main tourist areas, and we had our own shower and A/C. It was just such a blessing after Russia! And after days on the train and in Mongolia with no shower. Second place: the Madison Hotel and Sportclub in Düsseldorf, which also had wonderfully comfortable beds and friendly staff. Third: the five-star Langham Place hotel in Hong Kong with the most excellent views from Mong Kok.
12. Least favorite hotel: Lane Xang, Vientiane, although we didn't end up staying there. Second place: so-called "Old Quarters" hotel in Hanoi, which didn't even exist and had the rudest staff I have ever encountered at a hotel.
13. Least paid for a night's lodging: $5 for a room with own bathroom and scoop shower in Muang Khua (most expensive room in the guesthouse).
14. Cheapest meal (sit-down restaurant): Indian food in Vientiane, where ordering far more food than we could eat and drinks galore left us with a bill of $3 each.
15. Cheapest meal: fried skewers on the street in Beijing. Delicious! I came back from the trip determined to eat less pasta and bread, but am already falling back into wonted habits. I'm making delicious som tam almost every day, but green papaya costs 10EUR/kg in Norway so we've tried to develop a cabbage version which is actually quite good. We also were able to get hold of mangosteen, but they're even more expensive.
16. Most pleasant flight: Air China from Beijing to Guangzhou. Close second was the flight from Bangkok to Tehran, although we were nervous. Very friendly flight attendants on Mahan, although not perhaps the most experienced.
17. Least pleasant segment of the trip: overnight train from Hanoi to Sapa; let it be forgotten and sink into deserved obscurity.
18. Biggest difference everywhere we went from home: the proximity of animals. We've both meant to post on this, and we still might (we'll continue blogging at least until settled in Germany). Even behind my house, you don't have far to go before you encounter horses and cows grazing outside in the summer. But I could easily live much of my life without coming into contact with any animals, especially if I avoided the pasture on the way to the lake. But for most of our trip, that was not an option no matter where we were or what conditions we were staying in. In Russia, wild/stray dogs and cats are everywhere, and you don't have to get far into the countryside before cows are wandering close to houses that may also keep chickens, depending on the area. In Mongolia, the goats were impossible to avoid. My
19. Favorite animal of the trip: the goat that climbed into B's bed after having cleverly gotten through the barrier B had erected. Even in the center of Beijing, it was clear that animals were being raised for food, and we were never very far after that from chickens, goats, water buffaloes, and other animals that live side by side with people. It certainly made it very easy to see how people get bird flu, whether that ever turns into a pandemic or not. I'm also not used to animals just being allowed to graze where they wish, but it makes sense in less-trafficked areas that there is little reason to keep the animals from finding their own sustenance. And drivers are usually prepared for the water buffalo around the corner--it's probably one of the reasons there's so much honking in Vietnam, but maybe people just like noise too...
20. Scariest moment of the trip: dogs in Izmaylovskaya park in Moscow. (How does this keep coming up again?)
1. Most beautiful landscape: in Vietnam, between Sapa and Dien Bien Phu.
2. Noisiest: Hanoi.
3. Friendliest: Nong Kiow, Lao.
4. Furthest from anywhere: Gobi desert, staying with nomad families.
5. Most awesome city: Hong Kong. Not sure most other places are really cities.
6. Most peaceful escape from city: Beijing parks. The city is noisy and busy, but the parks, while full of people, are amazingly relaxing.
7. Worst (and only) sunburn: kayaking in Halong Bay, Vietnam.
8. Places we most want to return to: Laos, Beijing, and Mongolia, in that order.
9. Place we least want to return to: Izmaylovskaya park, Moscow. Or Russia, in general. At least not until we speak Russian.
10. Next major trip: probably the Black Sea.
11. Favorite hotel: Beijing Lotus hostel west of the Forbidden City. It had soft beds, a beautiful courtyard, was outside the main tourist areas, and we had our own shower and A/C. It was just such a blessing after Russia! And after days on the train and in Mongolia with no shower. Second place: the Madison Hotel and Sportclub in Düsseldorf, which also had wonderfully comfortable beds and friendly staff. Third: the five-star Langham Place hotel in Hong Kong with the most excellent views from Mong Kok.
12. Least favorite hotel: Lane Xang, Vientiane, although we didn't end up staying there. Second place: so-called "Old Quarters" hotel in Hanoi, which didn't even exist and had the rudest staff I have ever encountered at a hotel.
13. Least paid for a night's lodging: $5 for a room with own bathroom and scoop shower in Muang Khua (most expensive room in the guesthouse).
14. Cheapest meal (sit-down restaurant): Indian food in Vientiane, where ordering far more food than we could eat and drinks galore left us with a bill of $3 each.
15. Cheapest meal: fried skewers on the street in Beijing. Delicious! I came back from the trip determined to eat less pasta and bread, but am already falling back into wonted habits. I'm making delicious som tam almost every day, but green papaya costs 10EUR/kg in Norway so we've tried to develop a cabbage version which is actually quite good. We also were able to get hold of mangosteen, but they're even more expensive.
16. Most pleasant flight: Air China from Beijing to Guangzhou. Close second was the flight from Bangkok to Tehran, although we were nervous. Very friendly flight attendants on Mahan, although not perhaps the most experienced.
17. Least pleasant segment of the trip: overnight train from Hanoi to Sapa; let it be forgotten and sink into deserved obscurity.
18. Biggest difference everywhere we went from home: the proximity of animals. We've both meant to post on this, and we still might (we'll continue blogging at least until settled in Germany). Even behind my house, you don't have far to go before you encounter horses and cows grazing outside in the summer. But I could easily live much of my life without coming into contact with any animals, especially if I avoided the pasture on the way to the lake. But for most of our trip, that was not an option no matter where we were or what conditions we were staying in. In Russia, wild/stray dogs and cats are everywhere, and you don't have to get far into the countryside before cows are wandering close to houses that may also keep chickens, depending on the area. In Mongolia, the goats were impossible to avoid. My
19. Favorite animal of the trip: the goat that climbed into B's bed after having cleverly gotten through the barrier B had erected. Even in the center of Beijing, it was clear that animals were being raised for food, and we were never very far after that from chickens, goats, water buffaloes, and other animals that live side by side with people. It certainly made it very easy to see how people get bird flu, whether that ever turns into a pandemic or not. I'm also not used to animals just being allowed to graze where they wish, but it makes sense in less-trafficked areas that there is little reason to keep the animals from finding their own sustenance. And drivers are usually prepared for the water buffalo around the corner--it's probably one of the reasons there's so much honking in Vietnam, but maybe people just like noise too...
20. Scariest moment of the trip: dogs in Izmaylovskaya park in Moscow. (How does this keep coming up again?)
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
It’s back to 20baht meals since S and B left. The food is often very good for what amounts to less than a dollar, but for some extra baht you can get great service, beautifully presented food, and fun ambiance. It’s hard to convince the locals to go all out on a regular basis, so it was great to have S and B to hop from one good place to the next—everyday! Even if in the delicious food courts in Bangkok malls! Missing the food spree already. Glad you all made it back safe.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Our safe arrival last night in Düsseldorf was accompanied by intense feelings of relief. Our last 40hrs in Bangkok proved stressful beyond belief. While we were aware that many countries in the Middle East, Iran included, deny visa requests and entry to individuals who have been to the occupied territories (the way Israel is referred to amongst those states who refuse to recognize its existence as legitimate), we did not know that Iran also denies transit to individuals who have been to the occupied territories (we flew the Tehran based Iranian airline Mahan Air). S and I have both been to Israel, but S, lucky her, was travelling on a passport that had not been. We debated everything from ripping out the page to glueing it to the adjacent page to sticking the baggage tickets over the prominent Ben Gurion visa stamps. We decided to nothing hoping that always showing the passport already opened to the picture page would deter the impulse to flip through the other pages. Plan B invovled S practicing phrases of Koranic Arabic that she would use to plead to the authorities in case of emergency. S was right to assume that the Farsi speaking Iranians would understand her basic Arabic, but we found this out by ordering vegetarian lunch at the cafe and not through an unpleasant confrontation with Iranian customs officials. The passport was checked twice and in both instances only the picture page was examined. The drama of the situation was highlighted by the lead story that headlined Iran´s english daily "Iran News" -- "Israel is Flag of Satan". It was a pleasure to read this story as the plane took off on its way to Düssedorf. It was interesting to note in Tehran´s Airport just how few interenational flights actually pass through the country daily. Only one (that we could see from the flight board) flies to Europe (the UK recently revoked Mahan´s license to fly its daily flights to Birmingham and Manchester on safety grounds). The country is isolated and it´s not helping that Condy Rice just took steps to have Iran Revolutionary Guard a terrorist organization in order to further control the country.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Now that B is on the mend, I can get back to blogging about important things like food. I have to mention a couple of things we've eaten recently in case I forget. I just picked up a Thai and a Sichuan cookbook at the best English-language bookstore in Bangkok, but I'm pretty sure neither of these dishes will be in the cookbooks. My Thai favorites, som tam and tom yum, both are, but in the last couple days in Chiang Mai we ate a few unusual things that I don't know if we'll find again. One day we drove out to the national park just north of the city and ate in a bamboo hut by the reservoir there. We ordered as always the som tam (very very phet--hot papaya salad--soooo good!) and the tom yum (seafood hot and sour soup, phet as well of course) and the fried fish with garlic. Along comes a whole deep-fried fish topped with deep-fried strips of green matter (either Thai basil or kaffir lime leaves--for some reason we couldn't tell) and deep-fried pieces of garlic skin! Now, I eat about a head of garlic a day at home, and for all these years I've been tossing the garlic skin when I could have deep-fried it and had an absolute delicacy to enjoy!
Another day we ate in one of the noveau Thai restaurants which served some (reportedly) delicious mussels in a coconut and some lovely crab--these were of course eaten by my dining companions and not by me. In retaliation, I ordered the fried cashew salad which came with chilis, lime, salt, and green onions--the simplest idea ever, but absolutely the perfect thing to serve for a snack. Although we're cutting back on the spicy food for a day or two--the heartburn I had during my last session of speedwork on the treadmill was probably a sign that I should eat blander food instead of demanding everything maximally spicy at every meal. So today we had sticky rice with mango and coconut for a snack--BEST DESSERT EVER, every time.
Bangkok is supposedly one of the most exciting cities in the world, but we have reached the limit of our ability to take in newness, so today we are hanging out in malls.
Another day we ate in one of the noveau Thai restaurants which served some (reportedly) delicious mussels in a coconut and some lovely crab--these were of course eaten by my dining companions and not by me. In retaliation, I ordered the fried cashew salad which came with chilis, lime, salt, and green onions--the simplest idea ever, but absolutely the perfect thing to serve for a snack. Although we're cutting back on the spicy food for a day or two--the heartburn I had during my last session of speedwork on the treadmill was probably a sign that I should eat blander food instead of demanding everything maximally spicy at every meal. So today we had sticky rice with mango and coconut for a snack--BEST DESSERT EVER, every time.
Bangkok is supposedly one of the most exciting cities in the world, but we have reached the limit of our ability to take in newness, so today we are hanging out in malls.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
No posts for a few days due to anxiety and illness. B's sickness took a turn for the worse early Saturday morning in Vientiane. His fever shot up (although we couldn't find a thermometer that worked, it was clearly high), he developed a very painful headache, and the muscle aches got even worse than they had been. Fortunately, we were scheduled to fly to Chiang Mai that afternoon, but the trip was supposed to start with a tuk-tuk to the bus station, followed by a three-hour or so trip on a non-A/C public bus to Udon Thani in Thailand, then a taxi transfer to the airport. B was clearly in no condition to sustain such a trip, so (leaving aside all thoughts of budgeting as our trip resources have dwindled into almost-nothingness) we hired a private car to take us. That was pretty much the only decision that made the trip bearable for B, because our driver took care of all the immigration formalities both on the Lao and Thai sides of the border while we sat in the car. Standing in the six or so (it seemed) different windows to enter and exit each country is not what you want to do while feverish and in unbearable pain.
When we arrived in Chiang Mai, we headed straight for the hospital across the street from AD's house. We were quickly checked in, saw the doctor (who said he couldn't be sure what was wrong), took a blood test, got the results in about 15 minutes (no malaria, but otherwise inconclusive), picked up drugs, and paid (total: $30). We were told to come back tomorrow for another test, and went home to put B to bed, only to discover that his upper body was now entirely covered by a delightful red rash. Pretty sure of the dengue diagnosis, we filled him up with drugs, and put him to bed. When we went back for our doctor's appointment the next day, however, the doctor decided that it was not dengue but an upper respiratory infection. How he decided that, given that he didn't even listen to B's lungs (and he hasn't been coughing or anything like that!!!) is still a mystery to us. But this time he listened to my impassioned pleas and gave us codeine. B has been on about six different painkillers and tranquillizers until this morning, but he seems to be getting better so we're reducing his dosage (after all, three of the meds are mildly addictive!).
In other words, B has been pretty much in a haze for the last few days, but he's getting better. We're staying with AD, and it's really nice not to be in a hotel for the first time in a couple of months. Her neighborhood is pretty Thai (unlike the extremely expat-heavy areas of Chiang Mai). Right across the street is the lady who makes the best som tam (spicy papaya salad) ever! AD had her leave the crab out (ew!) and add lots of chili (convincing locals you can handle it is always the hard part), I took it home in a plastic bag, and there was a feast.
Yesterday was a holiday in honor of the queen's 75th birthday. In her birthday speech, she called for the separation between religion and politics to continue to be honored here in Thailand: she does not think that Buddhism should be included in the constitution. On Monday morning, the headline in the paper was: "Activists discontinue campaign." In order to honor the queen's wishes, the activists who have been very passionately calling for Buddhism to be in the constitution have decided to end their campaign. We will see whether this affects the constitutional referendum to be held here next weekend (another Monday holiday!).
On Saturday evening, exhausted and emotionally drained, AD and I went out to get a snack after putting B to bed. (He, on huge doses of Valium and opiates, was knocked out!) Right around the corner from her place is one of the coolest restaurants I've ever seen. The entrance is across a small pond with assymetrically placed stepping stones. We sat in a swing in the outdoor area next to the white bunnies hopping around. (Sounds like I took some of his drugs too, but I didn't!) The service was absolutely amazing, and the food delicious. The restaurant is red-themed, filled with red and purple lampshades with the occasional modernist touches. It is interesting to note how much one appreciates good service once one has gotten used to it. It is almost impossible to get used to it in Europe, because outside wildly expensive restaurants, it pretty much does not exist. The whole culture of customer service that is so essential to the development of late capitalism is still primarily an American prerogative--except here (at this restaurant), I would put those waiters head to head against any I've encountered (even at, say, Babbo) in the US. Totally unobtrusive yet utterly attentive: when the waiter brought the mosquito coil to burn near us, I exclaimed approvingly to AD (not to him): two seconds later he was back with mosquito spray just in case I'd forgotten to put some on (which of course I had). Just an example. I can see both why the lifestyle here would be very delightful and very seductive in perhaps unfortunate ways.
When we arrived in Chiang Mai, we headed straight for the hospital across the street from AD's house. We were quickly checked in, saw the doctor (who said he couldn't be sure what was wrong), took a blood test, got the results in about 15 minutes (no malaria, but otherwise inconclusive), picked up drugs, and paid (total: $30). We were told to come back tomorrow for another test, and went home to put B to bed, only to discover that his upper body was now entirely covered by a delightful red rash. Pretty sure of the dengue diagnosis, we filled him up with drugs, and put him to bed. When we went back for our doctor's appointment the next day, however, the doctor decided that it was not dengue but an upper respiratory infection. How he decided that, given that he didn't even listen to B's lungs (and he hasn't been coughing or anything like that!!!) is still a mystery to us. But this time he listened to my impassioned pleas and gave us codeine. B has been on about six different painkillers and tranquillizers until this morning, but he seems to be getting better so we're reducing his dosage (after all, three of the meds are mildly addictive!).
In other words, B has been pretty much in a haze for the last few days, but he's getting better. We're staying with AD, and it's really nice not to be in a hotel for the first time in a couple of months. Her neighborhood is pretty Thai (unlike the extremely expat-heavy areas of Chiang Mai). Right across the street is the lady who makes the best som tam (spicy papaya salad) ever! AD had her leave the crab out (ew!) and add lots of chili (convincing locals you can handle it is always the hard part), I took it home in a plastic bag, and there was a feast.
Yesterday was a holiday in honor of the queen's 75th birthday. In her birthday speech, she called for the separation between religion and politics to continue to be honored here in Thailand: she does not think that Buddhism should be included in the constitution. On Monday morning, the headline in the paper was: "Activists discontinue campaign." In order to honor the queen's wishes, the activists who have been very passionately calling for Buddhism to be in the constitution have decided to end their campaign. We will see whether this affects the constitutional referendum to be held here next weekend (another Monday holiday!).
On Saturday evening, exhausted and emotionally drained, AD and I went out to get a snack after putting B to bed. (He, on huge doses of Valium and opiates, was knocked out!) Right around the corner from her place is one of the coolest restaurants I've ever seen. The entrance is across a small pond with assymetrically placed stepping stones. We sat in a swing in the outdoor area next to the white bunnies hopping around. (Sounds like I took some of his drugs too, but I didn't!) The service was absolutely amazing, and the food delicious. The restaurant is red-themed, filled with red and purple lampshades with the occasional modernist touches. It is interesting to note how much one appreciates good service once one has gotten used to it. It is almost impossible to get used to it in Europe, because outside wildly expensive restaurants, it pretty much does not exist. The whole culture of customer service that is so essential to the development of late capitalism is still primarily an American prerogative--except here (at this restaurant), I would put those waiters head to head against any I've encountered (even at, say, Babbo) in the US. Totally unobtrusive yet utterly attentive: when the waiter brought the mosquito coil to burn near us, I exclaimed approvingly to AD (not to him): two seconds later he was back with mosquito spray just in case I'd forgotten to put some on (which of course I had). Just an example. I can see both why the lifestyle here would be very delightful and very seductive in perhaps unfortunate ways.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Sapa Trek on July 30
I finally have a chance to post! This one about Sapa on July 30. While S & B were on their 10 mile run on the nice paved read, aj. D decided to go for a trek down to the valley and back up to town and meet up with then two hours later. Rainy season, however, made all the tiny little offroads quite muddy. My first turn down the valley transformed my trek into a a delicate balancing act of sliding down the mud. I checked my watch, and realized I had already spent 30 minutes trying not to fall! Behind schedule already, I decided it was best to manouver through the narrow valley roads till I found someplace to climb back up the mountain to the city. At most, I thought I was 30 minutes behind schedule.
After about 20 minutes there was not another tourist in sight. Clearly, these roads were off the well-worn beaten path of other nice paths into villages you must pay a fee to enter. I passed several housing communities, just short of villages. Since adults and adolescents were out working in the fields, there were many, many young children about, being watched by their four year old siblings! It was quite interesting to watch; yet because there were no tourists, there was no place I could get a drink I so desperately needed! The cool waters from nearby streams held me over for a while.
By the time I got to a place where I could see Sapa town, I stumbled onto a little hut selling food and drinks. I interrupted about six men around a table having tea, and they gladly showed me a path back to town. Almost there! I thought.
On this path, there were only villages going to and from the road; no one tried to sell me anything, although I would have gladly bought a drink from them. The nicest little girl saw me struggling the mud, and found me a nice bamboo stick, and generously waited for me to made it up to the road.
I made it back, finally, but 2 and a half hours later. Poor S & B were so worried about me, poor things, sorry! But the dinner afterwards was totally amazing, and we were all in much better moods.
So AD and B think it was a big mistake to post about how we're feeling sick, but I thought we might as well include that info since we've been giving so many details anyway. I'm feeling much better today, but B's experience over the last week has been that the achiness gets better and worse, so I'm not holding my breath that it's over yet.
Yesterday we went to a couple of the important wats that are right around the corner from here. It was a bit hard at the second wat when the ibuprofen suddenly gave out, but after two restorative fruit shakes (watermelon and lime-mint) I felt better. We decided to try dinner at one of the riverside restaurants. It looked more like a bar, so we were worried about how good the food would be, but as usual, no need for concern. We ordered some steamed fish with a spicy lime sauce (excellent), sticky rice, and two salads, cucumber and papaya, very spicy. Well, the salads were spicy alright! Now, I can eat an entire habanero without crying, and even when B and I tone down the spice of food we cook for friends, it pushes the limits of many people's tolerance. But these salads had me in tears--just a little, but it was awesome. Since Russia, we've been on a hunt for truly spicy food that would challenge us a bit, and yesterday, we found it. Even more to my satisfaction was when the waiter came to clear away the table, and, amazed that we had finished both salads, he said (clearly complimenting us), "You eat spicy! Like Lao people!"
Yesterday we went to a couple of the important wats that are right around the corner from here. It was a bit hard at the second wat when the ibuprofen suddenly gave out, but after two restorative fruit shakes (watermelon and lime-mint) I felt better. We decided to try dinner at one of the riverside restaurants. It looked more like a bar, so we were worried about how good the food would be, but as usual, no need for concern. We ordered some steamed fish with a spicy lime sauce (excellent), sticky rice, and two salads, cucumber and papaya, very spicy. Well, the salads were spicy alright! Now, I can eat an entire habanero without crying, and even when B and I tone down the spice of food we cook for friends, it pushes the limits of many people's tolerance. But these salads had me in tears--just a little, but it was awesome. Since Russia, we've been on a hunt for truly spicy food that would challenge us a bit, and yesterday, we found it. Even more to my satisfaction was when the waiter came to clear away the table, and, amazed that we had finished both salads, he said (clearly complimenting us), "You eat spicy! Like Lao people!"
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
We're sick! It's hard to tell how sick--maybe just a little--but B has been having muscle aches for over a week and I've had them for two days. Worst-case scenario is dengue fever, but if so we have very mild cases--it just feels like there are little bugs burrowing into bones and muscles. We both are running slight fevers and have headaches, but nothing else--no rash, for instance, so dengue does seem fairly unlikely. We'll be in Thailand where there are good doctors on Saturday, so for now we're taking painkillers and trying to hold out. The really bad news in my mind is that Daddy says not to run until this is gone. What about my marathon? I'll just have to make it up in Norway on the beautiful trails in Marka.
Otherwise, Vientiane (Vin Chang, pronounced) is the most chilled-out capital city in the world, I'm quite certain. We're on a street right in the center, by the Mekong, and there is no traffic. Only a couple of streets seem to carry what could be described as traffic, and my guess is, they're mostly bringing in goods from Thailand which is only 25km away. Now's when we realize just what an effect the lack of infrastructure here has on the local population also: food, drinks, pretty much everything is just a bit cheaper in Vientiane than we've seen so far. Of course, people who live in Vientiane are less likely to be poor than people in very rural areas.
We had dinner last night in the absolutely friendliest restaurant I've ever visited, Fathima's. The proprietor made us feel like royalty, which was especially welcome after the horrible experience we had at the Lane Xang hotel when we arrived. We had called on Monday to reserve a room because the hotel had a fitness center, so we decided it was worth paying a bit more ($33) per night in order to have easy access to it. B had confirmed all of the details when he called, but when we arrived at the hotel--bone weary after a horrible bus ride from Vang Vieng that was supposed to take three hours but took four and a half, muscles/bones aching the whole way--they had no record whatsoever of our reservation.
At first, the manager was totally unhelpful. He must have asked us at least five times whether the person we had spoken with was male or female, when we called, and so on. He didn't seem to want to do anything to rectify the situation whatsoever. (My suspicion is that it was because we were carrying backpacks with raincovers. Backpackers are never popular in more "upscale" places, although the hotel didn't seem very upscale to us.) He kept saying that they would be happy to send us to another hotel (?!? our reservation was here), so finally I burst out crying and magically he decided to upgrade our room instead. The bellboy first took B to what was clearly the manager's own private love nest (mirrors in the ceiling etc) but as B was being shown the room, the manager changed his mind and decided to give us another room, less "upgraded", but that room was not ready yet. B decided to go look at the fitness center, the whole reason we were staying at that hotel: no treadmills. Yes, they advertise that they have a fitness center, but there are no treadmills. So, having waited at least 15 minutes for the second room to get ready, we up and left and checked into another hotel around the corner. This hotel is nothing special, but we have a TV which is nice while we writhe on our beds in discomfort. But it really took the wonderful proprietor of Fathima's to take away the sour taste that was left by the complete lack of professionalism at the Lane Xang hotel. (Now, it would have been another matter if I hadn't had to start crying for the manager to be willing to lift a finger about what was clearly laxity in his own staff's training. Imagine just not writing down a booking!)
I've forgotten to mention the amazing tropical storm that we saw in Vang Vieng. Lightning must have struck several hundred times (seriously)--it was like a strobe light lighting up the mountains. Lightning would flash maybe 6-8 times in a row, then we'd hear thunder as the rain and wind continued to intensify and intensify. It's hard to judge just how severe a storm it was for us non-tropics dwellers, but it was incredible to watch (from our private balcony, at $12/night).
Otherwise, Vientiane (Vin Chang, pronounced) is the most chilled-out capital city in the world, I'm quite certain. We're on a street right in the center, by the Mekong, and there is no traffic. Only a couple of streets seem to carry what could be described as traffic, and my guess is, they're mostly bringing in goods from Thailand which is only 25km away. Now's when we realize just what an effect the lack of infrastructure here has on the local population also: food, drinks, pretty much everything is just a bit cheaper in Vientiane than we've seen so far. Of course, people who live in Vientiane are less likely to be poor than people in very rural areas.
We had dinner last night in the absolutely friendliest restaurant I've ever visited, Fathima's. The proprietor made us feel like royalty, which was especially welcome after the horrible experience we had at the Lane Xang hotel when we arrived. We had called on Monday to reserve a room because the hotel had a fitness center, so we decided it was worth paying a bit more ($33) per night in order to have easy access to it. B had confirmed all of the details when he called, but when we arrived at the hotel--bone weary after a horrible bus ride from Vang Vieng that was supposed to take three hours but took four and a half, muscles/bones aching the whole way--they had no record whatsoever of our reservation.
At first, the manager was totally unhelpful. He must have asked us at least five times whether the person we had spoken with was male or female, when we called, and so on. He didn't seem to want to do anything to rectify the situation whatsoever. (My suspicion is that it was because we were carrying backpacks with raincovers. Backpackers are never popular in more "upscale" places, although the hotel didn't seem very upscale to us.) He kept saying that they would be happy to send us to another hotel (?!? our reservation was here), so finally I burst out crying and magically he decided to upgrade our room instead. The bellboy first took B to what was clearly the manager's own private love nest (mirrors in the ceiling etc) but as B was being shown the room, the manager changed his mind and decided to give us another room, less "upgraded", but that room was not ready yet. B decided to go look at the fitness center, the whole reason we were staying at that hotel: no treadmills. Yes, they advertise that they have a fitness center, but there are no treadmills. So, having waited at least 15 minutes for the second room to get ready, we up and left and checked into another hotel around the corner. This hotel is nothing special, but we have a TV which is nice while we writhe on our beds in discomfort. But it really took the wonderful proprietor of Fathima's to take away the sour taste that was left by the complete lack of professionalism at the Lane Xang hotel. (Now, it would have been another matter if I hadn't had to start crying for the manager to be willing to lift a finger about what was clearly laxity in his own staff's training. Imagine just not writing down a booking!)
I've forgotten to mention the amazing tropical storm that we saw in Vang Vieng. Lightning must have struck several hundred times (seriously)--it was like a strobe light lighting up the mountains. Lightning would flash maybe 6-8 times in a row, then we'd hear thunder as the rain and wind continued to intensify and intensify. It's hard to judge just how severe a storm it was for us non-tropics dwellers, but it was incredible to watch (from our private balcony, at $12/night).
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
We would love to see some comments appearing again! We miss feedback--trying to write every time we see an internet cafe is more fun when we think there might be comments!
Just arrived Vang Vieng, spending one night to break the journey to Vientiane. Hard to describe this place--think cheap backpacker heaven and you might start getting there. But whatever--we have a balcony, a view of the Nam Song*, and A/C.
*Edited. I said Mekong originally--my mistake. Now, in Vientiane, we're near the Mekong again.
Just arrived Vang Vieng, spending one night to break the journey to Vientiane. Hard to describe this place--think cheap backpacker heaven and you might start getting there. But whatever--we have a balcony, a view of the Nam Song*, and A/C.
*Edited. I said Mekong originally--my mistake. Now, in Vientiane, we're near the Mekong again.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Stunning Luang Prabang building: at some point, this is supposed to house the Pra Bang, the golden Buddha statue that gave Luang Prabang its name.
Sinuous dragon staircase up to the wats on Phonsi mountain. These stairs are tiring to climb in the heat of the day!
Laos is filled with monks, mostly young. AD has been on a hunt for senior monks, but no luck yet. Many young Lao men cannot afford to stay in school, so they become monks for a period for the education. Unlike in, say, Thailand, monks in Laos work very hard. We saw young boys clearing brush, replacing roof tiles, sweeping streets, and so on. The wats are always hung with laundry: gorgeous saffron robes drying.
This is one of the wats that gave Luang Prabang its UNESCO World Heritage status. The beauty and complexity of the roof can hardly be reproduced in a picture.
Typical Luang Prabang street: much French colonial. It's not all wats, although they are everywhere!
Another gorgeous wat.
These are the murals of the Buddha's life on the wat right across from our hotel in Luang Prabang. The wat no longer functions directly as a wat; rather, it is a training place for monks to learn traditional Lao crafts. It is supported by NORAD, among others. These murals are used to teach children about the Buddha and his life.
The wat across the street, from a different angle. Every morning we were awoken by the monks' drumming as they walked the streets of Luang Prabang, doing the alms walk where people fill their begging bowls with food. Luang Prabang is filled with signs begging tourists to behave respectfully during this ceremony.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Friday, August 3, 2007
Leaving Ban Saphoun (the other name of the village I was in when I last posted) was a hard decision, but Luang Prabang is also a stunning city/town. When we arrived in Laos, we ended up in a town called Mouang Khua. We had to exit the bus and get into the longboat to cross the river to get to the town, as there is no bridge for miles. The town is stunningly located on the bank of the Nam Ou river. We stayed in a guesthouse right by the river and enjoyed the silence and the fact that there was nothing to do. In the evening, the electricity came on for four hours, so everyone in town gathered around the television. While travel in Laos is incredible, if you leave Luang Prabang or Vientiane, you do need to be prepared to encounter rats, geckos, or other critters. Plus almost no roads are paved, so travel is very very slow (especially in rainy season as one negotiates parts of the almost washed-out roads). But the country is so delightful that the pace seems rather an advantage than not.
From Mouang Khua, we decided to head downriver to Nong Khiow/Ban Saphoun. We chartered a boat with some Australians and puttered along for about three hours. As we entered the village, I saw some adorable new bungalows on the left bank and knew that this is where we would stay the night. Well. You know those pictures from Balinese resorts that cost $600 per night that show beautiful bungalows with local prints, four-poster beds, your own private terrace overlooking the water, and a stylish bathroom? That's pretty much where we stayed. We and AD had a bungalow each, four-poster bed with pristine white sheets, a writing desk, subtle lighting, the works. This at the exorbitant price of $24 for a double including breakfast. It was paradise.
The resort is owned by a Dane who speaks fluent Lao and has only been open for a year, explaining why it wasn't listed in our book. But it is probably the nicest place I have ever stayed, both for simplicity and ambience. Watching the river flow by was so relaxing, the food was excellent (especially the deep-fried eggplant and the tom yum soup), no one was trying to sell me anything, and there was no honking on the (paved) road as there was hardly any traffic. B and I went out for a quick five-mile run and, for the first time on this entire journey, were not treated as freaks who should be mocked but instead welcomed with smiles and "saibadee!" (Lao for hello) which we returned with enthusiastic smiles and waves. I know this sounds too idyllic to be true, but what can I say? It was awesome. We passed villagers gathering at the waterspouts to wash (the women wearing sarongs), carrying water using the traditional method: two buckets hanging from a stick across the shoulders, classic bamboo stilt houses with space underneath for cooking, water buffaloes, chickens, and storage, a cave we had visited earlier that was used by the villagers during the American bombings and a crater right outside the cave where a bomb hit. It wasn't too hot, because as we're here in rainy season it rains every couple of hours for a little (5-30 minutes, usually) and then clears up for a bit.
I could have stayed forever, but unfortunately, the hotel had a tour group booked the next day and only one room available for more than a night. So off we went on another boat to Luang Prabang. This boat ride was a bit less spectacular than the last, although we joined the Mekong and spent the last half-hour on it, which was amazing: the river is HUGE!!! But the ride was also made somewhat less pleasant by our company. There was a Scot who kept trying to urinate off the back of the boat (but didn't have the sense to go to the very back) so he kept hitting himself and the boat instead of the river, the four identically dressed Poles who literally took pictures (they had two huge cameras and a camcorder) of every single person we passed, including children playing in loincloths who were clearly shy (treating people like animals in a zoo again)--it was an unpleasant reminder of what tourists must look like to Lao: bizarre, rude fools with lots of money. It is terrifying to think of what tourism will do to this country, although it will enrich many people as well, and that is the paradox of travel. Laotians are poor. Really, really poor. The huge bridge over the Nam Ou that links Ban Saphoun and Nong Khiow had perhaps three cars pass over it the entire time we were there, plus a couple of trucks. Maybe 10 motorbikes. Most Laotians are not going hungry, but many, many children die before the age of five of preventable diseases like malaria (endemic). We are taking anti-malarial drugs (Malarone), but at a cost of $5 per pill, the price would have to be reduced to a very small fraction before most people here could afford the drugs. Not to mention that counterfeit drugs (especially for malaria) are a huge problem in Southeast Asia. It wouldn't matter if the drugs were effective, but they often contain only a small amount of effective ingredients and thus contribute to the increasing problem of resistant malaria.
Luang Prabang is already showing the effects of tourism, both good and bad (the city exists now primarily as a tourist destination). The city is gorgeous: containing dozens of wats (Buddhist monasteries, sort of), French colonial buildings, Lao buildings, a mixture of all styles and all preserved due to the lack of money for economic development that Laos has experienced for so long. (Here we call it Lao, because the real name is the Lao People's Democratic Republic, or Lao PDR.) Prices are reasonable, although higher than in the countryside (we are still struggling to spend over $5 each for a big meal with lots of drinks). But there are children roaming the streets constantly selling trinkets. I could almost shoot any tourist who buys them. The children are adorable (and seem mostly adequately dressed and fed), but it is the idiot tourist who feels sorry for them and buys one of their trinkets who is responsible for their being out of school selling crap to tourists and having to humiliate themselves in this way. If there was no market, farming families wouldn't take their children out of school and send them around telling tourists "beautiful hair, would you like to buy?" But I have seen at least 8 children so far roaming the streets here. We were also accosted by a drugged-up beggar wearing only shorts who reached for our purses when we refused to give him money. Many drugs are readily available in Laos (it is, after all, part of the golden triangle) and although the government, responding to US pressure (not accompanied by money) has tried to eradicate opium growing, it remains an important source of income for some, including minorities in the north who have no other way to make money.
Anyway. After days on end of moving around, we are settled in Luang Prabang for a few nights. B, unfortunately, is pretty sick with food poisoning so he's staying in as AD and I take care of business. We're hoping to arrange an elephant ride and maybe some kayaking for Monday. Tomorrow we'll probably wander Luang Prabang looking at buildings (and B will take pictures--he already has some pretty spectacular ones to post). Unfortunately, it is HOT here, and I don't think there is a gym, so some pretty unpleasant running may have to take place. But in mid-week we'll be in Vientiane, which is supposed to have at least one nice gym. Here's hoping!
From Mouang Khua, we decided to head downriver to Nong Khiow/Ban Saphoun. We chartered a boat with some Australians and puttered along for about three hours. As we entered the village, I saw some adorable new bungalows on the left bank and knew that this is where we would stay the night. Well. You know those pictures from Balinese resorts that cost $600 per night that show beautiful bungalows with local prints, four-poster beds, your own private terrace overlooking the water, and a stylish bathroom? That's pretty much where we stayed. We and AD had a bungalow each, four-poster bed with pristine white sheets, a writing desk, subtle lighting, the works. This at the exorbitant price of $24 for a double including breakfast. It was paradise.
The resort is owned by a Dane who speaks fluent Lao and has only been open for a year, explaining why it wasn't listed in our book. But it is probably the nicest place I have ever stayed, both for simplicity and ambience. Watching the river flow by was so relaxing, the food was excellent (especially the deep-fried eggplant and the tom yum soup), no one was trying to sell me anything, and there was no honking on the (paved) road as there was hardly any traffic. B and I went out for a quick five-mile run and, for the first time on this entire journey, were not treated as freaks who should be mocked but instead welcomed with smiles and "saibadee!" (Lao for hello) which we returned with enthusiastic smiles and waves. I know this sounds too idyllic to be true, but what can I say? It was awesome. We passed villagers gathering at the waterspouts to wash (the women wearing sarongs), carrying water using the traditional method: two buckets hanging from a stick across the shoulders, classic bamboo stilt houses with space underneath for cooking, water buffaloes, chickens, and storage, a cave we had visited earlier that was used by the villagers during the American bombings and a crater right outside the cave where a bomb hit. It wasn't too hot, because as we're here in rainy season it rains every couple of hours for a little (5-30 minutes, usually) and then clears up for a bit.
I could have stayed forever, but unfortunately, the hotel had a tour group booked the next day and only one room available for more than a night. So off we went on another boat to Luang Prabang. This boat ride was a bit less spectacular than the last, although we joined the Mekong and spent the last half-hour on it, which was amazing: the river is HUGE!!! But the ride was also made somewhat less pleasant by our company. There was a Scot who kept trying to urinate off the back of the boat (but didn't have the sense to go to the very back) so he kept hitting himself and the boat instead of the river, the four identically dressed Poles who literally took pictures (they had two huge cameras and a camcorder) of every single person we passed, including children playing in loincloths who were clearly shy (treating people like animals in a zoo again)--it was an unpleasant reminder of what tourists must look like to Lao: bizarre, rude fools with lots of money. It is terrifying to think of what tourism will do to this country, although it will enrich many people as well, and that is the paradox of travel. Laotians are poor. Really, really poor. The huge bridge over the Nam Ou that links Ban Saphoun and Nong Khiow had perhaps three cars pass over it the entire time we were there, plus a couple of trucks. Maybe 10 motorbikes. Most Laotians are not going hungry, but many, many children die before the age of five of preventable diseases like malaria (endemic). We are taking anti-malarial drugs (Malarone), but at a cost of $5 per pill, the price would have to be reduced to a very small fraction before most people here could afford the drugs. Not to mention that counterfeit drugs (especially for malaria) are a huge problem in Southeast Asia. It wouldn't matter if the drugs were effective, but they often contain only a small amount of effective ingredients and thus contribute to the increasing problem of resistant malaria.
Luang Prabang is already showing the effects of tourism, both good and bad (the city exists now primarily as a tourist destination). The city is gorgeous: containing dozens of wats (Buddhist monasteries, sort of), French colonial buildings, Lao buildings, a mixture of all styles and all preserved due to the lack of money for economic development that Laos has experienced for so long. (Here we call it Lao, because the real name is the Lao People's Democratic Republic, or Lao PDR.) Prices are reasonable, although higher than in the countryside (we are still struggling to spend over $5 each for a big meal with lots of drinks). But there are children roaming the streets constantly selling trinkets. I could almost shoot any tourist who buys them. The children are adorable (and seem mostly adequately dressed and fed), but it is the idiot tourist who feels sorry for them and buys one of their trinkets who is responsible for their being out of school selling crap to tourists and having to humiliate themselves in this way. If there was no market, farming families wouldn't take their children out of school and send them around telling tourists "beautiful hair, would you like to buy?" But I have seen at least 8 children so far roaming the streets here. We were also accosted by a drugged-up beggar wearing only shorts who reached for our purses when we refused to give him money. Many drugs are readily available in Laos (it is, after all, part of the golden triangle) and although the government, responding to US pressure (not accompanied by money) has tried to eradicate opium growing, it remains an important source of income for some, including minorities in the north who have no other way to make money.
Anyway. After days on end of moving around, we are settled in Luang Prabang for a few nights. B, unfortunately, is pretty sick with food poisoning so he's staying in as AD and I take care of business. We're hoping to arrange an elephant ride and maybe some kayaking for Monday. Tomorrow we'll probably wander Luang Prabang looking at buildings (and B will take pictures--he already has some pretty spectacular ones to post). Unfortunately, it is HOT here, and I don't think there is a gym, so some pretty unpleasant running may have to take place. But in mid-week we'll be in Vientiane, which is supposed to have at least one nice gym. Here's hoping!
Thursday, August 2, 2007
We made it out of Vietnam successfully, although it may be hard to believe that it took us 9 1/2 hours to cover 60 miles. Seriously. We booked a private car, or so we thought, from Sapa to Dien Bien Phu. The next morning, a huge minibus showed up. It could have seated 15 plus the driver. There were three of us. There was A/C. It was awesome. The drive is one of the most spectacular I have ever done. More description will follow, but right now we are in the throes of decision-making and have to get business done.
We're in Nong Khiaw in Luang Prabang Province in Laos. The village we were in last night, and this one, are the two most peaceful places I have perhaps ever seen. We were awoken only by the roosters crowing this morning, as there is almost no traffic in either of these places.
Laos is beautiful. And we have much more to say! But it will have to wait.
We're in Nong Khiaw in Luang Prabang Province in Laos. The village we were in last night, and this one, are the two most peaceful places I have perhaps ever seen. We were awoken only by the roosters crowing this morning, as there is almost no traffic in either of these places.
Laos is beautiful. And we have much more to say! But it will have to wait.
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