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.