Bolaven Plateau II: Drums, Dirt Roads and Caffine.

The plan for the next day was to see another 2 or 3 waterfalls. But what's the point of plans, anyways? Their function is to give you a just general idea, to get you at least moving in any direction rather than staying still, laying in bed past noon.

So the next day I took off on my motorbike, a little later than "planned." The reason for the late start was this: At abour 1:30, I woke to the distant sound of drumming. Slow, steady drumming. 1:30 a.m.? Are you kidding me? At 1:30 a.m., my mind goes nowhere good while alone in a cane and bamboo bungalow in a strange, remote Laotian village. Then, through the dark, my eyes adjusted just enough to make out a man sitting at the foot of my bed. I screamed. My eyes studied the shape more and it turned out to be they way the large mosquito net was knotted to fit the small framed bed. Oops. The drumming continued well past 3 a.m. and my mind moved on from imaginary figures in my bungalow to ritual sacrifices. This led to half-awake, crazy dreams and around 4, I managed to get the deep, undisturbed sleep that I take pride in, drums still going. Due to said late night chain of events, I moseyed out a bit later than my 7 am departure time. Incidentally, the explanation for the drumming was that the temple monks were chanting for the new moon.

I got directions to my new destination and they seemed clear. Gas station, turn right. I reached a gas station but it appeared the road was blocked off and under construction. I continued straight and straight until I reached a not-in-my-direction main town. No other gas station was passed. There was no denying, that was the road. I turned around and got back to said road. I spotted some motorbikes coming out of it and shrugged. I guess this is what the map meant by dotted lines. Later I learned that dotted lines mean a bumpy, slidy, sore-butt road. I rarely passed 3rd gear and at one point had to stop the bike after fishtailing through a road of loose dirt. But, I always managed to pry my left hand away from the break to wave back at the enthusiastic waving kids walking home from school for lunch. The road took longer than expected but I was so happy to hit asphalt and get going faster than 35 km/hr, I couldn't be bothered to stop for lunch.

Down the way, my right hand was cramping from driving and I passed a sign that said "Come have a cup of tea with us." I turned right around and drove into the driveway. A lovely lady who preferred coffee to tea poured me some green tea. We were making small talk when two Dutch girls appeared, eager to learn about the tea process. We got a tour of the operation and left happy and carrying our tea purchases. They, too, were headed to a waterfall by motorcycle. I had found my playmates for the day.

We reached Tad Yuang and it was spectacular.


The grounds were gorgeous.

We found a map leading to another waterfall. We decided to walk and see what we find. We found cows, and coffee tree after coffee tree,

and a river and a perfect spot to watch butterflies and eat an apple. But ultimately, no waterfall. The walk wasn't planned but was thoroughly enjoyed. We gave up on the waterfall and I made Thai/English chitchat with a saleswoman as I scarfed down my overdue lunch while my new friends shopped. We made our way to a Fair Trade coffee shop on the way to the main road and talked more and drank more tea and then drank more coffee. At this point, if sleep came to me tonight, it'd be a minor miracle.

Dark was nearing and Tad Fan and Tad Niang were going to have to be a miss, but not for naught. On the ride back, I didn't mind the bugs in my face that always make driving at dusk less than pleasurable. I was too busy eyeing and smiling at the pink neon sunset sinking between two Champassak mountains.

STATISTICS:
Cups of Tea consumed: 4
Cups of Coffee consumed: 2
Bugs on my face: 113 (rough estimation)
Mounds of dirt passed: 63 (rough estimation)
Kms driven in 2 days: around 290
Total red lights: 1
Times I filled the gas tank: 2
Times I couldn't find the key only to have it pointed out to me that it was still in the seat key hole: 2
Total 2-day waterfall count: 5

Bolaven Plateau I: Chasing Waterfalls

It was a beautiful sunrise once I managed to pry my eyes open in the sleeper bus rolling into Pakse. The rest of the day was thoroughly uneventful day filled with errands and planning. I had hoped to do the Ta Ong trail but it was prohibitively expensive to go alone and no one had signed up for it. A bit disappointed, I decided to spend the next two days exploring the Bolaven Plateau on a motorbike. The next morning I mounted my not-so-mighty 100cc metal steed and took off. My 2 day 1 night route would essentially go from waterfall to waterfall. Pakse to overnight in Tad Lo then down to Paksong and back to Pakse. I had a map and a general idea of where I was headed.

Pha Suam

Once I turned off the main highway 13 onto a small highway leading to the first waterfall, Pha Suam and then further to Tad Lo, it was a relaxing, easy drive. The road was lined with stilted houses, walls of sunflowers, waving children, staring adults, and indifferent goats. It was intersected by dozens of small streams, yellow suicidal butterflies, chickens, and even one, large, weasel-like rodent. In the distance, mountains loomed. And did I mention waterfalls? I arrived in Tat Lo by 11:30 and lunched while staring at the wide Tat Hong waterfall.

Eager to make my load lighter, I checked into Tim's Guesthouse and got directions and suggestions from the owner who's English, just as the Lonely Planet promised, was perfect.



He showed me a map of the area and I took off to find Tad Lo. I found a trail headed up and took it which led me to an elephant! I continued up trails, hopping over elephant dung and found one beautiful waterfall. Hoping to find the clearest view of the falls, I kept trying to find a way onto a clearing down below but I kept coming across ladders.

1st ladder: Sketch. Rungs look insecure. Missing a rung or two.

2nd ladder: Even sketchier. Missing 3 or 4 rungs.

3rd ladder: Really just 2 parallel sticks with the occasional sparse rung. More rungs missing or broken than appearing functional on the ladder.

Then, I came to it: the money spot.

I returned to my guesthouse to grab the bike to head to the fourth and last waterfall of the day, Tat Suong. I passed a series of almond groves on the road which eventually, according to the Lonely Planet, dead-ended to another road. There one was instructed to turn left into a parking lot looking out over the top of the falls. I say according to the Lonely Planet because I didn't go that way. I had left the guidebook at home. So when kids along the road started shouting at me, I figured I'd follow them. I was led by two industrious boys into a little village where I left my bike.
Then it was a hike through rice patties, hopping on rocks over streams and over boulders for about 10 minutes until we reached the bottom of the falls.

They showed me the prime spot to swim and I decided it was best to swim in my sarong rather than my bikini. I proceded to do a funny little dance trying to get out of my clothes while wrapped in my sarong. While I struggled, a small hoard of boys came and joined us, most stripping down to their birthday suits and then immediately jumping from high boulders. Seriously, this is the life. We swam around for about 20 minutes, splashing around and jumping into the water until I decided it was time for me to go. That apparently meant that everyone was to pack up. When we got to the village, I gave the two boys the Big Brother Mouse books that I had picked up in Luang Prabang. I drove away feeling like the day had been a grand success.

Vientiane: A morning without coffee is like something without something else - Joma shirt.

Kayaking to Vientiane: Brilliant. I mean, a good many things are more fun than sitting in a minivan but kayaking to the same destination tops the list. In the end it was about 2 and a half hours in a car and 2 hours in the kayak there abouts. I joined up with a lovely Scottish woman in a kayak and we managed to tip over in the rapids. Good fun. I also met an enthusiasitic English woman as well who had been living in Hat Yai in Thailand. Upon arriving at our destination, we three gals took off to find the English woman's friend and to get a hostel. Hostel:check. Beer Laos: check. Sleep: check.

Vientiane Guesthouse

The next day, we four gals (2 English, 1 Scottish, and me) had an amazing breakfast at Joma. If I could live in Joma, I just might. The food, though pricey was amazing and the atmosphere reminded me of home - a nice break once in a while. It was refreshing having some girl company which hasn't really happened on this trip until now. We headed off to Xieng Kuane, a little park filled with Buddhist and Hindi statues. It had a gigantic gourd-like structure with a giant tree on the top. It lets visitors enter through a mouth, climb up some steep, dusty steps passing hell, earth, and heaven to the top, overlooking the park. It was easy to snap away for hours here.

Into the mouth

Inside the giant gourd.

The view from the top.

We capped off the day with a trip to the forested temple of Wat Sok Pa Luang. There we followed a small trail to a tree house with a herbal steam sauna. We cooled off on their balcony, drinking tea and then treated ourselves to a truly fantastic traditional Lao massage. The guidebooks warn that this type of massage is "touchier" than most, and they didn't lie, but it was effective. Relaxation achieved.

We treated ourselves to an early dinner back at Joma, where I had the BEST lasagna (spinach and eggplant) I've had in asia topped off with mulberry pie with ice cream. Could this day get any better? Who said that Vientiane was boring? I packed my bags to catch the sleeper bus to Pakse.

I've been on a sleeper bus in China and a sleeper train in Vietnam thinking I knew what to expect. I climbed on the sleeper bus for Pakse and came to the realization that there were two to a bed. The bed was smaller than a twin mattress. Most people were traveling in pairs and thus lying next to their traveling partner but I, all by my lonesome, might have to spend 12 hours sharing a smaller-than-twin mattress with a complete stranger. I wasn't sure that I was comfortable with this - in fact I was sure I wasn't. Luckily, no one came to join my one my bottom bunk. It was an easy ride into town.

My sleeper bus window.

Vang Vieng: Spring break at Carlos and Charlies meets quiet little Laos. But, man, the climbing!

Reluctant to leave Luang Prabang, I hoped on a minivan armed with Dramamine. Luck had it that the person sitting next to me, an Israeli/Swiss/American was interesting AND a climber! Good conversation and the view out the car window was incentive enough to stay awake as imposing karst mountains inched closer to us as we drove nearer to Vang Vieng and a parade of students slowly riding their bikes while carrying checkered, matching umbrellas in one hand and steering with the other lined the roads. It wasn't raining. The umbrellas were to provide them with mobile shade on an oppressively hot day.

Upon arriving in Vang Vieng, we scored some cheap bungalows complete with hammock overlooking the river, across a quaint wooden bridge from the main, noisy part of town.


I spent the rest of the day trying to tie up loose ends for the grad school applications. That night, from the comfort of my hammock, I overheard the word "climbing". I butted in and by the end of the conversation, I agreed to join a French man for a day of climbing in the morning. The plan was to put on the shoe and if it didn't hurt, I was in.


Morning came and I was in. The wall was fantastic as it was actually two walls that created a cool, shaded canyon with climbs on either side.


Pockets and tuffas and jugs galore. As lunchtime came, we decided better to do 2 half days than one full day and set off for a couple of tubes and the river. We got dropped off where the tubing starts and what a shock. Think Senor Frog Cancun Spring Break X 10. Bikini and trunk-clad bodies marked with lipstick and permanent marker adverts stood on decks hooting and hollering with cocktail-filled buckets in their hands. I had no intention of getting out of my tube and I had mixed emotions about the sight.

I suppose like Pai in Thailand, Vang Vieng is a place that sucks you in. Where people come for a couple of days and stay for a couple of weeks. Or in the case of a few local celebs, for over a year. But where as Pai is known for it's relaxed and slow atmosphere, Vang Vieng is known in the SE Asia backpacking scene for partying and tubbing. Bars line the river enticing tubers to grab a hold of a bottle and be pulled in to cheap buckets and to swing off precarious trapeze contraptions into the water. The music is loud and compared to the subdued nature of Laos, a bit a shocking, but underneath the drunken revelry that seems out of place in such a soft- spoken place is an undercurrent of goodwill among fellow travelers and ultimately, a celebration of life. Unfortunately, it's a celebration that I would have appreciated more about 10 years ago. Still, the landscape is amazing, the locals seem to take it all in stride, and the karst mountains provide an awe-inspiring vista that I gazed at contentedly from the tube and later, laying on my riverside bungalow hammock.

The second day of climbing was good as well and I spent my energy on a 6b overhang willed with slimy tuffas that humbled me. I hate pinching.

me.

There were five of us and the guide: the Frenchman, the I/S/A man from the mini van, myself, and an Austrian couple who told me about kayaking to Vientiane rather than a bus. Kayak instead of bus, I said? Sold. I told Adam, the man who ran the guide shop and actually spent alot of time in Krabi that I would be back next year with the boy in tow and spent the afternoon alternating between the hammock, the river, and the deck of the restaurant for yet another banana shake.

I met up with Austrian couple and the I/S/A dude for a drink and retired early to prep for the next day. All in all Vang Vieng was a pleasant surprise!

Anyone looking to climb in the area, I can definitely recommend Adam's. Great people, experienced and safe climbers. Green Discovery is another outfit that goes as well.

Luang Prabang: Parlez vous francais?

Tired from a long day in Hanoi and a plane that took some serious concentration to relax, I agreed to the first hostel I came across, a dingy little place that was owned one of the cutest little elderly Laos couple. I passed out quickly and took about walking the town the next day. I found a cute cafe to have breakfast where I was immediately asked by an enthusiastic elderly woman, "Parlez vous francias?" She was instantly disappointed in my answer and left to get her husband to deal with me. He was very pleasant, though his English was limited. I booked a guide with Green Discovery Tours, a pricey but very socially conscious tour company, to go climbing the following day. After, I took to wandering around town and happened across Ock Pop Tok, a non-profit organization set up to support weavers in their art and in improving their art. The salesgirl there took a liking to me, I think because I spoke a few words of Thai. She told me about her life, we sang some songs together (me: the only Thai song I know... Du, Du, Du and she: a Laos song in English). It was great fun then I headed off to see a waterfall.

Luang Prabang

Kuang Si Waterfall starts by passing by what essentially looks like a Bear Playpen. Not a bad life for a bear, indeed. They are bears taken in by the Free the Bears Foundation, rescued from poachers and idiots who think bears might make cute pets then find out otherwise (as I said, idiots). You then follow a trail up to small falls with pool after pool for swimming (including a rope swing for the brave) up to the main, large falls.




Then, you can take a STEEP trail up to the top of the waterfall. The steep trail entailed crossing a log across a creek which I did really well up until the end, when I slipped and scrapped my toe down the side, pushing all the mossy, black/green material down past the quick of my big toe. I realized that my time was cutting short and I would be late making it to my minivan. I didn't make it to the top but on the way down, met a nice American doctor touring Laos before doing cleft palate operation in Vietnam. He took a motorcycle here and I decided to forgo the minivan for my favorite mode of transportation. We enjoyed a lovely evening, good food and then I retired early as my toe was killing me and I decided it was time to start digging.

And dig I did. And hurt it did. I cut and dug and cut and dug and still couldn't get it out. This did not bode well for the climbing trip the next day which I already booked and paid for. I woke up the next day determined. I brought my gear and I would use it. Period. I went out with a guide and 2 lovely Australian girls. Just putting my shoes on hurt but I could muster up the 1st two easy climbs essentially on my left foot and other, non-toe parts of the right foot - not the best technique but you do what you gotta. The 2 6a+'s that followed, I made halfway up before the agonizing pain in my toe was just too much. Stupid log, stupid slip, stupid toe. What a lame thing to happen for my first time out climbing on this trip.

Monks spotted on our way back into town from climbing

I consoled myself with a nice Indian dinner and wonderful massage with the girls. Luang Prabang was beautiful and romantic and I was painfully aware of Brett's absence. I guess that means we'll have to go back. After dinner and a massage, it was time to pack again.

Hanoi III: So long, Vietnam, Hello Laos.

NohB in bed on the night train from Sapa

I arrived in Hanoi groggy after not having slept so well. I wandered around the Old Quarters and enjoyed the stark difference between the quiet, vacant streets at dawn versus the hustle and bustle of salesmen hawking and tourists gawking later in the day. I ran into the Kiwi couple from Sapa at a bench overlooking the lake and we enjoyed a nice breakfast together before parting ways.

From the bench on the lake.

Masks in the Old Quarter

I caught a xe om (motorcycle taxi) to KOTO, a non-profit restaurant that serves as a training program for street kids. The menu was definitely geared to the western clientele but the service was lovely with kids eager to please and do their best. After nursing a runny nose and the beginnings of sickness for a few days, their lemongrass, ginger and honey tea hit the spot. I can't say enough about Phở. I just love the stuff. I don't think there was a day I didn't eat it in Vietnam. Tofu Phở. Phở with egg. If only it was served with chili flakes. I managed to squeeze in a quick visit to the Hao Lo Prison, better known as the Hanoi Hilton, and then headed off the the airport for my flight to Luang Prabang on Air Laos.

Hanoi Hilton

The Hanoi airport is not designed on ease-of-use and information dissemination. Strangely enough, most of the screens showing flight information in the departure area displayed information about arriving flights. I sat there, exactly 2 hours prior to departure with no visible place to check into. I asked where to check in for my flight and was directed to a variety of different closed counters. Eventually, I just sat down, read my book and when I looked up ( about an hour and a half before my flight) a counter with my flight magically appeared. A little later, I was led to a small plane of questionable safety standards. I couldn't even get the tray table to work correctly which made me fear for the larger, more important parts of the plane. It was a nerve racking hour but we eventually came to a bumpy landing on Loatian soil.

I shared a tuk tuk into town with a lovely Danish couple who, much like the Kiwi couple would keep popping up during my stay. I stayed at the first guesthouse offered to me, being exhausted after the train from Sapa, my early morning Hanoi wanderings, and the mental energy spent willing my plane to stay in the air. The owners were an adorable older couple who spoke just enough English to make everything easy. The bed was harder than I like it but I slept like a baby.

Bed in Luang Prabang

Sapa II: You buy from me.

Everyone said that Sapa was beautiful and indeed it is. High mountains sculpted by rice terraces and colored by the vibrant traditional dress of the ethnic minorities, the Black Hmong, Red Dao, and Tay. But if Sapa had a tagline, it would be "You buy from me." Those colorful, basket-toting women drive a hard sales pitch and if persistance is a virtue, they have it in spades. I walked away with a bracelet, a belt, and two sets of postcards. I later met a French woman with whom I communicated in Spanish who actually bought two of their jackets so I feel like I didn't do so badly in trying to resist them.

I wanted to support businesses that directly benefited them. I asked around several places to check out the homestay options and one of my questions was always, "Do you use minority guides?" The answer was always "yes." And that answer was a bold-faced lie. I signed up for the best sounding option and who appeared as our guide but a young Vietnamese man from Halong Bay. Fantastic. But I tried to make the best of it. While that bit of it was disappointing it was actually a really nice trek. The guide was knowledgeable and gave great advice such as not buying from children so that they aren't encouraged to sell handicrafts to tourists rather than attend school. I signed on to a 2 day tour with an overnight stay in a village. The trek followed the curves up and down the dramatic scenery and over bridges and through rice terraces. The food was delicious and hearty, my favorite being the Phở rau with egg. Our village host was very kind and while spoke very little English, communicated with smiles and his own brew of rice wine. The stuff was strong but luckily the shot glasses small. We stopped as schools along the way and were given the opportunity to donate money to the schools directly.

All in all the trek was great and my trek-mates made for great company. We were a group of 6, a Kiwi couple, and English couple, a lone Belgian, and a lone me. I would meet up with the Kiwi couple serendipitously several times after the trek. If I had it to do over again, I would only change one thing: take up one of the Hmong or Red Dao ladies in Sapa on a homestay. One offered the 1st morning I arrived off the train but it was a bit too much to think about 1st thing in the morning while still trying to get my bearings on the town.

Random Stats
Amount of sales pitches heard: about 93
Items bought: 6
Kilometers walked: Around 22 I think.
Total amount of Panadol taken to help sore knees on hard hikes downhill: 1000 mg
Coolest mode of transport: Soviet jeep.

Sapa I: To tour or not to tour.

We as Westerners have become quite accustomed to planning our future. We like to know exactly what's going to happen. We forecast the weather so that we can plan. Plan, plan, plan. I decided not plan this month long trip in advance and within a week I had a plan. I booked a tour to Halong Bay and while it was enjoyable, it all so good and safe. For Sapa, I didn't plan. I chose not to book the tour and felt the oddball among the other tourbookers picked up at the hostel. So here's my grand experiment. It's been a while since I've actually played something by ear.

I arrived in Sapa and breakfast in the proximity of two German girls, I asked their perspective on the place and they recommended a motorcycle tour they did to the Tram Ton Pass which is also called Heaven's Gate and Silver Falls. I had no plan, so sure! Why not. I was going to just rent a scooter and go myself but the afternoon in minority villages sounded appealing so I signed up for that with the promise of an English speaking guide. The LP guidebook stated that the owner had her own camp of female guides however the guide I ended up with was a Vietnamese male. Hmmmm. As for the tour, the landscape was gorgeous with impressive green mountains everywhere but the visit to the minority villages were a bit disappointing. My guide spoke English in a convincing but indecipherable manner as in I was sure he was trying to speak English but had not a clue of what he was saying. In the end there was a lot of sitting, sipping tea, and listening to Vietnamese in 3 different villages. The "guide" left a lot to be desired. I returned to town and set out on figuring out the homestay.

Tabacco Bong, as illustrated by my driver.

Check out that bridge! I was holding my breath.

Silver Falls, Sapa, Vietnam

Hanoi II

Dolls at the Temple of Literature

Upon my return to Hanoi from Halong Bay, I met a lovely Vietnamese girl named Thuy through couchsurfing. We met for lunch at a place of her choosing. She took me to a fantastic Bun Cha place that is one of the oldest Bun Cha places in Hanoi. It was packed with Vietnamese people (always a good sign) however I didn't know what the heck Bun Cha was, my knowledge of Vietnamese food being limited to Pho and spring rolls. It turned out to be pork meat balls in broth served with rice noodles and heaps of greens. Despite the fact that I don't like pork much, this stuff was mighty tasty. I made a serious effort at it but still couldn't manage to eat half of what they served us. We spent the rest of the day on her motorbike as she showed me her favorite places in Hanoi: The Temple of Literature and Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum (it was closed but the area was nice.) It was a fantastic day spent topped off with ice cream by a lake. She delivered me to my hostel and I met other couchsurfers for dinner at a local eatery.

The day of departure for Sapa was a bit of an errand day. If you want to buy a cheap backpack or Chakos or basically any kind of outdoorsy stuff, Vietnam is the place to get it be it black market real stuff or decent knock-offs. I couldn't pass up a 15 dollar backpack half the weight of my current one. I decided to ship my old one back to Thailand. There's just no telling how things will go in Vietnam. My first trip to the post office: nice and helpful person. My second trip to the post office: demoralizing. Let's just leave it at that, shall we? I returned to my hostel after eventual success and took off for the overnight train to Sapa.

Sapa is a well spoken of mountain town rich with indigenous culture and trekking opportunities. I booked a round trip ticket on the sleeper train which was actually, not bad. I shared my room of 4 beds with a mother and two daughters traveling together from Australia. More lovely people along the journey. I slept like a baby and woke up groggily in Sapa.

Halong Bay II: The appearance of NhoB

Today might best be described as the day Maya clung to a whole lotta rocks. Our morning began on Cat Ba Island, at Cat Ba National Park where we started our hike scaling slimy steps, graduating on to slippery dirt paths and finally up muddy rocks to arrive at a tremendous view at Kim Giao Peak. It was a sea of mountains. For an extra adrenaline rush, you could pray for dear life while climbing 5 flights of rusty metal stairs to stand upon loose wooden boards. It was well worth the view and solitude from the crowd but my knuckles turned white from the grip on the rail. I spent the entire climb up and down shaking like a twig in a hurricane, convincing myself that I wouldn't die, and dreaming of rigging a rappel down. My poor kayak/vodka partner did not fare so well. He was down for the rest of the day.

After lunch, we headed out to Monkey Island where we indeed, saw some monkeys. We were instructed on our options which were "Swim, kayak, or follow path to the beach on other side." That's how it was put. Simply. Plainly. "Path to beach on other side." And it wasn't a lie. But perhaps a more apt description would have been "A treacherous, challenging path that goes past a sign with skulls and cross bones leading to a locked gate blocking access to the other beach. "Path" being a bit of a disappointment, I turned my attention to swimming on the first beach. While swimming, I noticed a can floating in the water. I immediately became indignant and went to go take the tossed-out beer can out of the water when I realized that it wasn't empty at all. In fact, it had never been opened. I discovered a full, unopened can of Bia Ha Noi discarded and left to bob around unappreciated in the sea. Enter my new traveling companion. I decided to adopt the can and show it the sights. Just the two of us. Since this trip could only be made better if Brett could come along too, I've dubbed my new friend can NhoB, Nho being Vietnamese for small and the B for Brett. Given Brett's love for beer, i figure the name is appropriate. Expect many pictures of NhoB to come.

Halong Bay I

I woke up in the morning and got ushered on to a minivan that drove us to where a good majority of the tourists in North Vietnam were also waiting to get onto their junk boat. There were to be 10 of us on our boat. A pair of Canadian friends, 2 lone Englishmen, A Spanish/Japanese couple, 2 Danish sisters, a lone Swede, and myself. Prices were compared. A substantial difference was noted. For anyone going to Vietnam, do shop around before signing up for a tour. Our Swede paid more than double what we paid for the same tour.

Our first stop were to some glorious cave called "Suprise Cave". Guides were happy to point out images once could see in the rocks with a bit of imagination, including a very phallic stalagmite - the "suprise", perhaps? The caverns were huge and were it not for the hoards of people, gaudy colored lights, and the feeling of being herded like sheep, it would have had a very Lord of the Rings. From there we jumped on some kayaks where me and my kayak partner jammed ourselves into little nooks and crannies in the karst islands.

From there we retired to the boat were my fellow passengers jumped into the water from the boat. The wind was a bit too crisp for my tastes. Bowed out and took pictures instead. The prices on the boat were exorbitant and me and my kayak partner snuck on a bottle of vodka. He made better work of it than I did which he suffered greatly for the next day.

Day 1: Hanoi

After arriving at the hostel at night, I spent the next morning practicing walking across the street. Most people learned how to do this around elementary school but really, here it takes practice. There is a steady stream of traffic that never stops, not even for red lights*. NEVER. So, if you want to go across the street you must:
1. blazenly step off the curb
2. look into oncoming traffic
3. banish the thoughts of your imminent death if you continue into traffic
4. walk at a steady pace while dozens of motorcyclists and cars swerve (usually) around you
5. make your way among the fleeting spaces.

Sound like a game of frogger? It is. Luckily, driving a scooter in Bangkok along with just being a very bold pedestrian** equipped me well for the task. I had it down by the afternoon. I met up with an old friend from Bangkok for lunch and we roamed around looking for things for me to buy.

I returned to the hostel and found wonderful people to drink with and booked myself on a 3 days and 2 nights tour of Halong Bay the next day. Good start to the trip, I'd say.

* red lights are mere suggestions in Hanoi, often ignored.

** for "bold" read stupid - I once made a Mexican bus slam on its breaks to not hit me. whoops!

*** pictures to come when it is a bit more practical to add them on.

Let the adventure begin.. oh wait. it began a long time ago.

So much has happened, where to begin?

I had my last circuit ride to Mae Hong Son and finished out my contract with IRC. I am officially a bum, or a woman of leisure as I like to put it. I am completely reliant on my sugar daddy, or perhaps considering his salary, NutraSweet daddy is more appropriate.

We had an incredible trip to Oregon where I was greeted at the airport with Mike, Dylan, and Ryan sporting white t-shirts with my name on it, Dylan's shirt containing an iron-on shirt with my head (including an afro wig) on it. We did so much in Oregon that i warrants its own blog. And it will indeed get one. Highlights include meeting Brett's family/friends, a party in Mike and Caleb's backyard, horseback riding with Ruth through the Oregon woods, lots of gravy, driving down the Oregon Coast, Crater Lake and the obsidian flow with Sharen, plenty of three-year-old moments with the twin three-year-olds, and an absolutely magical wedding. Brett... get on that, would you?

So now I find myself in the midst of what is essentially a 5 month trip of all I've neglected in asia - which is alot. The plan for now is Northern Vietnam, to Northern Laos, travel down to Southern Laos for trekking, to Cambodia. Meet a friend in KL and head to Sumatra, then over to Borneo. Pick up Brett in BKK and head to the country of my birth for New Years, then drop off Brett and get yogi like in India. Back to BKK to meet Sharen and show her Thailand and part of Laos!

Let another adventure begin.