So just a little behind with my blog...
After three days in Chiang Mai, I make my way along with 11 boisterous Isralis to the town of Pai. Three hours by bus and I'm spoilt with my very own Hebrew chorus. My bungalow sat on the hill overlooking the town and countryside so I reclined in my balcony hammock and admired the view; the only sounds audible were a faint sawing, cockerels crowing to each other and the occasional cow. I was liking Pai already!Two objects for survival in Pai: hammock and moped. Hammock sorted, I decided my next job was to find me a moped. The kindly gentleman sensed that I was a amateur in the world of motorised two-wheelers and took me to a nearby field to practice first. I then lasted four hours in the company of the moped before deciding our match wasn't one made in heaven and with a wipe of my brow exchanged it for a trusty push-bike. My decision was encouraged by innocent passerby's screams at my technique taking corners.
The next morning I rose at 6.30am to accompany the hostel owners, Darling and Peter, to the hot springs just out of town. We took a breakfast of eggs that can be boiled in one of the 80 degree springs. You can't swim in that one. Later on I joined several others at a bar in town, became rather inebriated and the group of 10 went on our merry way on three mopeds to the next bar (sorry Mum). Luckily their moped skills were a lot better than mine. It was here that I learnt of the precarious activity of Vang Vieng tubing in Laos. The next day was spent in the hammock. The cockerels crowing weren't so appealing now. Then I reluctantly boarded my bus to Chiang Khong to make the early morning border crossing into Laos.
After spending two days drifting down the Mekong River and with extremely numb hindquarters in tow, I arrive in Luang Prabang. I head out with my new German compadres and several Beer Lao's later we find ourselves at the local 'Club Doufa', complete with after party at the town's bowling alley. I become acquainted with my first Lao Whisky cocktail, which is to develop into a bit of a love/hate relationship. We stay at Phousi Guest House, which creates great amusement when telling the tuk tuk driver at the end of the night. Feeling slightly below par, the following day we head to L'Etranger cafe to watch a film. The film of choice isn't to my taste, however, the subtitles provide more than enough entertainment. The English for gremlin, according to Laos translation, is 'dwarf Satan', whatever is simply 'let it be' and bullshit becomes 'nonscensical talk'. Throw in a few 'thank you please' and there you have it!
Anyway, one last day to climb Phousi Mountain and celebrate the Buddhist festival marking the end of lent and it's onwards in true Asian style, complete with potholes, lucky puppies with an extra life and not-so-lucky ducks, to the infamous Vang Vieng. After one too many Lao Whisky buckets the night before, I start my day of tubing with high hopes for delayed intoxicity. How wrong I was! An overview of the day's activities: 12:30pm - arrive at first bar, 1pm - first rum and coke, 2pm first Lao Whisky bucket, 3pm - jumping in mudbaths and not only dancing, but seemingly enjoying very poor music.
The river hated me; you are required to drift down to the next bar in the inner tube of a tyre and unfortunately it kept taking me in a different direction to everyone else. It took me through some debris and my bikini bottoms were almost ripped off by an errant river sprig. I was then advised to abandon ship and wade to the side where my drunken legs continued to fail me and take me under. The only way to console myself when I reached the bar was with a trusty Whisky bucket. Completely ignoring any sensible advise, the darkness crept up on us and we were required to float back to town in pitch black. The only way to revive ourselves when we reached dry land...you guessed it...
