Slow ride, take it easy

There are several ways to make the long journey south from the more remote regions in the north to the cities of Laung Prabang and Vientiene in central Laos.  Trapped on a bus, fearing for your life on a speed boat...hitchhiking perhaps? Take your pick. But one of the most popular modes of a transport is a "slow boat" ride down the Mekong River.  Two lazy days drifting down the river sounded pretty good to us, and although we'd heard mixed reviews on the experience, but we decided to give it a go anyway.

Day one starts in Huay Xai with an early breakfast and transport to the boat launch at the north end of town. We hop aboard one of many large longtail boat along the shoreline and settle into a couple repurposed bus seats (always the inventive recyclers!) near the front of the boat as our packs are stored below deck. In typical Lao fashion we hang around for another hour so, periodically loading new passengers until all the seats are full.

The boat is pretty simple but functional: four seats wide, with two on each side of a reasonable isle down the middle. At the front of the boat there's a small enclosure for the captain and at the back a small "shop" for snacks and a clean enough bathroom.

Photo hijack.

We'd heard rumors of a party boat-ish atmosphere, and although the boat is filled with mostly twenty-something backpackers, they're hardly rowdy. A few beers are downed here and there by some, but generally the ride turns out to be a peaceful, relaxing affair. The scenery is gorgeous and the fresh, exhaustless air is more than welcome in our lungs. It's also nice to be able to get up and stretch your legs or use the bathroom whenever you feel like it, unlike a typical bus ride.

(Later, in Luang Prabang we cross paths with the four girls from Norway who were with us on The Gibbon Experience. They decided to take the bus from Huay Xai to Luang Prabang, which turned out to be a joyous, 17+ hour journey.  Their trip included: two flat tires, getting out to help push the bus and late night mosquito attacks. Not to mention the hour the driver spent teaching his protege how to park the bus on the side of the road. Needless to say, we're certainly glad we opted for the boat.)

riverside 7-11

The two day trip is broken up with a night spent in the small riverside town of Pak Beng. Essentially a small, rural village, any tourist industry here has sprung up solely around the daily deposit of slow boat passengers and their basic needs.  You know, the basics: snacks, western breakfasts, drinks, drugs...maybe even a place to sleep for a few hours.  Before our bags are even off the boat we're assaulted by all manner of salesmen touting their guesthouses, and more importantly their ability to procure you marijuana.  We manage to slip away and wander along the main road until we find a tolerable room for the night.  It was a bit dingy, but at least it was only 40,000 kip (8000 kip = $1) for the night.

Views from the boat.

With our new friend Fran, a sweet middle-aged teacher from France who took the room next to ours, we wander the streets for an hour or so, chatting and exploring past the guesthouses to catch a glimpse of real life in this riverside village. Most of the homes in Laos have a very wide, open floor plan, so it's often possible to sneak a peek at the going's on around the home.  Sometimes the little moments you glimpse in this way are the most interesting of the day.  After our walk we grab a nice dinner with Fran at an Indian restaurant and then head for bed.

Did I mention our boat was also a submarine?

In the morning it's breakfast and back on the boat by 9AM.  The 2nd day's boat is a bit smaller and considerably more cramped.  Especially for the hungover late-comers to the pier who are forced to sit in the very back of the boat, nearly on top of the roaring engine.  For us it's just fine--we grab two seats up front, and aside from a bit of rain the trip feels rather short and sweet.  We arrive in Luang Prabang around 4PM with no place to stay.  Bags strapped to our backs, giant, attention-grabbing travel guidebook in hand, and sun blaring down on us we set out to find a place to lay our heads.  You know, just another typical day...

We go zip!

After an extra day in rainy, gray Huay Xai to recharge our batteries and update the blog--which is, incidentally, several weeks behind--we head out with a small group on The Gibbon Experience. As part of a conservation project in Bokeo National Reserve in northwest Laos, The Gibbon Experience bills itself as a great example of responsible ecotourism. The guides are all from local villages in or around the reserve, and A good portion of the income generated by our trip goes toward reforestation projects (many of the local farmers still practice slash and burn agriculture which is terribly inefficient and leads to erosion) and protecting the forest wildlife from poachers. The namesake of our adventure is a monkey that lives mostly in the forest canopy, swinging great distances from tree to tree in search of a life-long mate.

In keeping with the gibbon's airborne, treetop existence, we spend the bulk of our two days riding zip lines high above the forest canopy and trekking through dense jungle. It's both breath-taking and exhausting, with some zip lines crossing 6-700 meters from one high point on the ridge to another.

All geared up.

Zipping to the tree house.

In the mid-afternoon of the first day we reach our accommodation for the night--a three-story tree house built 200ft. up around a massive old tree. The tree house is beautiful, comfortably sleeps eight people with soft mattresses, warm blankets and mosquito nets.  It even has running water and electricity! Here, perched above the forest canopy, we have an amazing view of the surrounding landscapes. The bathroom is perhaps the most amazing part of the whole place, with an open 180°+ view of the jungle. It's probably the most beautiful shower I have ever taken.

I spotted a gibbon.

 

 

Our tree house suite

After a strenuous morning and afternoon we spend the remainder of the day snacking, relaxing and getting to know our group. Our guides zip a hearty dinner over from a kitchen somewhere on solid ground just as a torrential rainstorm rolls in. For a few moments the winds howl, the rain spits and the tree house sways...but thankfully it's all over rather quickly. After the storm subsides we share a glass of Lao wine with our guides as the darkness settles in and the sounds of the jungle grow in volume and variety.  It was especially fun getting to know our young, energetic guide and teaching him the proper way to use a double-hinged cork screw.  

Gorilla in the mist.

We rise just before 6AM for a morning of zipping around the jungle.  We return to the treehouse briefly to collect our things, down a hearty breakfast and begin our trek back Huay Xai.  After five hours of trekking, zipping and considerable sweating--with a quick lunch thrown in at the hut of a forest guard--we pick up our transport for a bumpy ride out of the jungle.  It's tough to imagine how they ever manage these roads deeper in the wet season. Only in the last hour or so of the trip did the leeches finally show their blood-sucking little faces, but thankfully for us we escaped unscathed.  However I can't say the same for some others in our group. Perhaps it was the Deet in our bug spray?  We heard somewhere that is was good for deterring leeches.

Sticky rice goes with everything.

We return to Huay Xai thoroughly exhausted but completely satisfied with our trip. We check into a guesthouse for one more night and book tickets on the slow boat to Luang Prabang for the morning. A relaxing ride down the mighty Mekong is just what the doctor ordered...

Pai in the sky

From Pun Pun we headed northwest to the hippy/expat enclave of Pai, a small town nestled into the northern mountains. Arriving in the off-season we found Pai to be very quiet and relaxing, but we were assured that a Khao San Rd-like atmosphere explodes in the high season. Lucky for us we missed that. We took it easy for a few days in, enjoying complimentary coffee and bananas from our guesthouse in the mornings, exploring some of the sites & attractions later in the day and lounging in cushiony bars with free mojitos at night.

Thai curry paste

Chef Sadrah

We took an excellent Thai cooking class from a very friendly, extremely thankful woman @ the Red Orchid and finished the day full of knowledge and even fuller of delicious food. First we visited the local morning market to shop for all our ingredients for the day. We were finally able to put some names to mystery vegetables we'd been spotting along our trip so far. Then we learned to cook five different traditional Thai dishes each, including a lesson on how to make Thai curry paste with mortar and pestle. Needless to say it's quite a workout. Thanks again to the low season we were the only two people in the class, so we got lots of personal attention.

Unexpectedly tough ride to the hot springs...on rickety cruiser bikes

Some other highlights: we rented bikes and took in the scenery on the way to visiting some local hot springs, hit up a in-ground pool/bar, sampled some tasty teas, coffees and pastries, wandered the night market along the main road and checked out open mic-night. Perhaps Pai was a bit touristy all and all, but we enjoyed it.

After a few days in Pai we rented a motorbike and made the 45km journey over the mountains to Soppong and Tham Lod Cave. It was rainy and cool at the top, but there were spectacular views of the valleys below. Surprisingly the ride wasn't much of a challenge after our last motorbike jaunt. Sadrah's becoming quite the road hog!

The view from Pai to Soppong

We arrived a few hours later and took a bungalow at The Cave Lodge. A cozy outpost complete with food, lodging and a multitude of tours to offer. Cave Lodge is built into a hillside overlooking the river that runs through the cave and its front door is just a short jaunt from the entrance to Tham Lod.

That evening we hiked a short distance to the cave exit for the infamous bird/bat show. Every night hundreds of thousands of swifts fly into the cave to eat and sleep for the night while all the bats fly out of the cave. We witnessed and endless stream of birds circling above the entrance to the cave and then spiraling down and inside for the night. We watched mesmerized for nearly 40 minutes as the steady stream of birds showed no signs of letting up.

BIRDS

The next day we both started to come down with something and opted for the more basic cave tour run by the forestry office down the road from the Cave Lodge. We rode into the cave on a bamboo raft, our guide lighting the way with a kerosene lantern. We visited several caves off the main river which housed huge and varied rock formations, sink holes and mysterious ancient coffins. Even in our sickly state (heightened by the overwhelming ammonia stench of bird/bat guano), and with our guides very basic English (she could only really point out rock formations that look like animals), it was all quite interesting.

After the tour we managed the motorbike ride back to Pai and fought through the fever and nausea to board a late night minibus to Chang Khong, a small Thai town along the Mekong River and the border with Laos.

After what amounted to a very easy and uneventful border crossing the next morning--except for the guy at the border bragging about his photo with Steven Seagal--we found ourselves in Huay Xai, Laos--a bit weary but excited to explore a new country. But first we found a decent guesthouse and slept most of the day away, hoping to recover quickly from whatever ailed us.

The Road to Pun Pun

It's possible that we could have happily spent more time in Chiang Mai. It's easy to while away an afternoon strolling the streets and checking out the goodies for sale or plopping down at a curbside cafe sipping on fresh coffee and participating in one of my new favorite activities - monk spotting! But it was time to move along. Thai cooking courses are a very popular activity for Farang visiting Thailand and prior to leaving the States, I sought out an organic farm and vegetarian cooking school located a few hours from Chiang Mai.

We email them about our visit and are informed that the cooking class isn't being offered in the slow season but we are still welcome to come and visit the farm and volunteer in the kitchen to pick up a few tips and pointers. We decide to give it a go--but first we had to find it.

The directions on the website read more like steps in a scavenger hunt. 1.  Find the Warowot market (we opted to take a sweaty walk there rather than a tuk-tuk) 2. Once at the market find the river, turn left and walk 100 meters. 3. You will see a phone booth and a parking lot, walk past the parking lot and turn left down an alley where you will find a row of white trucks 4. Skip three strides then hop twice and you will have arrived.

 In reality it is far easier than the instructions make it sound and we arrive early enough to peruse the market. This is probably the first true local food market we've seen so far on this trip, full of live eels and turtles waiting to become someone's dinner as well as some unlucky frogs on skewers. It seems everything comes on a skewer in Thailand and I have no complaints about that! We pick up some fresh rambutan and passion fruit as well as a few fried bananas before we hop on the truck.

As with most businesses and modes of transport in this part of the world our truck was dual purpose. In addition to carrying us and a few Thai women, our truck also acts as a supply transport making several stops to unload various goods (bicycle and motorbike tires, cases of condensed milk, potted trees) to small villages and homes along the way.

Our ride ends about two hours later on the side of a dusty road. The driver motions us toward a muddy path that puts our balance to the test. We traverse rice paddies and makeshift bridges and feel pretty good about our successes thus far, but when we arrive at the farm there was no one in sight.  We knew that Krit, the man we emailed, would be in Chiang Mai until the next day but were told that other members of the community would be expecting our arrival. We ditch our bags at what looks like the main dining building and go for a walk around the grounds hoping to encounter someone.

All of the buildings are earthen structures, made of some combination of raw wood, bamboo, mud and clay and are in varying states of upkeep.  The paths are a bit overgrown and everything looks slightly neglected.  We poke around a bit and having still encountered no one head back to where we stashed our bags.  Out pops a head with long hair and a longer beard from the previously unnoticed 2nd floor of the main building. His name is Botash and he is from Hungary. He speaks English well and we ask him some questions about the farm but he seems to have about as much info as well do.  We sit with him for a while lounging about and reading a bit, waiting for anyone else to arrive.

The famous Botash.

Bamboo fixin'

Eventually some women and a young man come around. No one speaks more than a few words in English. A young kid leads us to a small earthen structure a short walk from the main building but we are given no more instruction.  We wander back to the kitchen and find a group of women preparing fresh bamboo shoots.  We stand around for a while watching and trying to communicate that we want to help.   Eventually we either picked up a shoot or were given a shoot to peel.  The process is like this: Young bamboo shoots are picked when they are about 6" long, the tough base is trimmed and then the outer sheaths of the shoot are peeled away until the green part is all stripped and nothing but a long thin white cone remains. We help peel bags of them and then wait for the next step. But there is no next step. Finally we are told to go take showers and return at 6 for dinner. 

It's more like 7:30 when dinner is served. Botash, Mike and I eat and chat while the sun sets and then creep very carefully back to our hut as I'm terrified I'll step on a poisonous snake.  Our hut is filled with critters but mostly just lizards and we are more or less become accustomed to them by this point.  Despite the confusing day we were still quite content to be under our mosquito net with the jungle sounds lulling us to sleep.

Our humble abode.

We meet Botash for breakfast around 8 and try to milk him for more info on the farm's daily activities in Krit's absense. Mostly he just said he helps planting rice every day from 9-12 and that's about it. With that said, he departs to go do just that, leaving us to try and figure out what to do. We try again to approach the ladies about working in the kitchen and were told, 'nothing to learn.' With the whole day in front of us we decide to get geared up to hit the rice paddies as that seems to be where all the action is. I find a safari hat with a neck flap and Mike ends up with a very large and very Mexican looking sombrero (sorry we have no photographic evidence of this). We head down to the paddies and quickly find that rubber boots are useless and get stuck with every step.  So there we are, barefoot and calf deep in mud planting rice transplants with a Hungarian and a bunch of Thais. We slosh around for a while, bent at the waist with sun on our backs and the mud squishing between our toes which seems to help regulate the brutal Thai heat.

If you were ever curious about how rice is planted it goes like this.  Rice is started from seed and when the rice plants are about 6-8" in height they are gathered and bundled together into a little bunch about 4 inches in diameter.  These bunches are brought to the rice paddy where they are transplanted into the mud. They are seemingly planted at whatever distance and spacing you want.  We tried to figure out some sort of standardization but realized that when you've got at least 3 or 4 people working on one square paddy with everyone starting at different places the spacing will inevitably not line up. You grab about 3-4 transplants in your hand and push them down into the mud about 2-3 inches being careful not to snap them.  And repeat. It goes rather quickly since there is not need to dig holes or make orderly rows and the mud is super soft and malleable.

When we've all finished planting we take a walk with Botash to a neighboring community called the Panya Project.  They are bustling with activity and were finishing up a permaculture certification course, something Mike and I might have been interested in doing if we had found out about it sooner. At dinner that evening we have a chance to chat with Krit who has returned from Chiang Mai.  He gives us some insight on how the growing season works in Thailand and about the current action on the farm.  It seems like this time of year it is all rice all the time and although we enjoyed our experience today we didn't feel like doing it again tomorrow...and the next day. So we decide to arrange a motorcycle and sidecar taxi for the morning and make our way to the small hippy enclave of Pai.