Published!

Remember that post I wrote about that terrible bus ride from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, Laos? The Vomit Comet? Well, I just found out it was published in South East Asia Backpacker magazine! Woot! Check out page 46 here!

I've seen the end of the world...

And it looks like this!

AHHHHH!

GAAAH! Phra Rahou is eating the moon!

AHHH! Some multi-armed, furry-bearded cat-man is pinning down another guy and it looks uncomfortable!

Though I thought there'd be more magma, and the earth-splitting in two... I guess our visit to Xieng Khuan (Buddha Park) was not as prophetic as it appeared to be. We waited for the axe to fall all day, but these freaky and awesome sculptures were as close as we got.

But first a note about getting there. The Banana Pancake Trail is littered with backpack-toting, Lonely-Planet-thumping numskulls, of which I am most certainly one. When the 14 bus from Vientiane stopped at a bus station partway to Buddha Park, it emptied of all but 8 tourists and a handful of locals. The bus sat for 10 minutes, before a guy got on, did a quick head count, and said "no Buddha Park." After which ensued a confused conversation where we tried to get to the bottom of this increasingly suspicious situation. But our Lonely Planets all say that the 14 goes all the way to Buddha Park!, the eight of us cried. "Bus go Vientiane, no Buddha Park." So you're telling us that these people who got on with us in Vientiane, are just going right back? "You take other bus. Wait 5 minute other bus." And how much will that be? "2,000 kip." But we've already paid for this bus to take us there! So we waited 5 minutes, and there was no other bus, but there were lots of very helpful tuk-tuk drivers. "5,000 kip each go right now Buddha Park." No way! 2,000! "Noooo, 5,000. Go right now." And back and forth it went, the 8 of us holding out, until finally we said Ok, 5,000 each. To which he replied "no, 15,000 each." Whaaa?

But enough about that, we got there, the Banana Pancake Trail got a little more trodden, and we got to see some seriously awesome Hindu and Buddhist statues, and: the world didn't end. Big picture, right?

...by Mr Ear-Kim-Ou with his madam.

Our new friend, Daow, single, and looking for love. Ladies? He's really nice!

Two-wheeled freedom

Another great way to get out into the countryside around Vang Vieng, other than by bike or tube, is to rent a scooter! It looked way more complicated than I thought, so I'm glad Mark took the reins on this one. We rode about 6 km east of town to Yui falls, which had a few beautiful pools to swim in. We soaked in the sun-dappled turquoise pool, and marveled at the tangle of tree roots on the rock beside the falls, where butterflies were flitting about. It was pretty idyllic!

We continued on around the road that looped back into town, where the hills and valleys of the jungle were infused with dusty, late afternoon sun, and each corner revealed a new and more magnificent view than the last. And like before when we were biking, children screamed 'sabaideeee!' as we passed through their village, and we would holler it back and wave enthusiastically.

We came around one corner and came face to face with a large tractor whose driver was struggling to get it up the loose gravel slope, and another man pushing it from the back. So we jumped off the bike and helped them push it up, and as I was getting back on the scooter I backed right up into the blazing hot muffler and burned my leg. The very same muffler I had asked earlier hey, isn't there some part of the bike that gets really really hot and you shouldn't touch it? Yeah. That part. Another man riding by paused briefly as I yelped, and I just pointed to the muffler in explanation and he carried on. But then he came back and after some confused gesturing he showed me how to put motor oil on it, I guess to keep it moist until I could tend to it properly? Anyway, I thought that was really nice of him to come back just to show me that.

Despite the burn it was a super day, and a great last day of our five in Vang Vieng, before heading to the capital, Vientiane.

The main street of Vang Vieng

Lots of these little guys around. Is is a snake? Is it a lizard? It's a snizard! It's a linake!

Looking straight up at the water falling down

When in Vang Vieng...

THE thing to do in Vang Vieng is tubing. Or at least it was. I mean, it still is. You can still rent the tube, but all the crazy ziplines and swings and drinking games en route are no more. Turns out, drinking and tubing? Not actually a good combo. So the river is, once again, just a river. We spotted only two locals on the shore shouting "Beer Lao!" as we passed, but otherwise you have to BYOB if you absolutely can't tube without a drink. Or, you can just take in the intoxicating scenery as you float along the Nam Song river, and save the Beer Lao for dry land.

Right beside where you return the tubes is the most adorable, rolliest, polliest puppy I have ever seen.
His name is Kino, and he likes to play and lick toes.

Cycling through karsts

Vang Vieng has a bit of a reputation as little more than a party town with a pretty backdrop. And this is not inaccurate. But there's a lot more to this town than just young, drunk gap-years, Friends re-runs, banana pancakes, and "in the tubing" tank tops.

First of all, if getting smashed isn't your thing, it's easy enough to avoid the buckets of alcohol. But if it is, then giv'er. You'll be in like-minded company.

Second of all, the backdrop is way more than just pretty. The karst mountain-scape is jaw-droppingly stunning. Dramatic limestone peaks jut up from the rice fields to jagged heights, while ferns choked by vines cling to their impossibly sheer faces. Throughout the day these monoliths shift colour as the light moves around them, from a pale blue in the morning before the sun burns off the mist, through various shades of charcoal, to a smoldering mauve at sunset when their layers solidify into one imposing mass whose silhouette looks something like an erratic soundwave.

On our first day we rented mountain bikes and did a 42k circuit west, over the river, alongside karsts and fields and through villages, with a stop en route at the neat-o Blue Lagoon and cave. After dodging cattle and water buffalo on the road, we passed a muddy river where they were cooling themselves, a pool of disembodied, writhing, horned heads grunting and exhaling loudly. It was amazing! And then, just around the next corner was another bunch in a pit, covered entirely in mud. It looked like a cow sculpture. Living cow art. So totally awesome.

As we rode through the villages, the kids would run to the roadside screaming "sabaideeeeeeee!" and holding their hands out for ride-by high-fives. It was the best!

The only un-awesome part of the day were the ridiculously rocky and pot-holed roads that vibrated our hands until they were battered and bruised...

Well, at least the views were nice...

The lore and the guidebooks did not lie when they warned that the road from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng is known to cause motion sickness, and to prepare yourself. I am very, very glad I took anti-nauseants, otherwise I would have, without a doubt, suffered the same fate as seven of the seventeen passengers on board. We were only about an hour into the 6-hour journey when the breakneck speeds around tight, winding mountain roads and being jostled over teeth-jarring potholes, caught up with those aboard the Vomit Comet, resulting in a chorus of people simultaneously throwing up into bags or with their heads out the window. It was quite the soundtrack.

It began with the young girl behind us--her dad shouted something which must have meant 'bag! bag!' and got one just in time for her to throw up into--and then the young boy on the other side of us and his mother, and then the guy behind me, and then another few in the first row. I couldn't believe the chain reaction! It was looking like it was going to turn into a full-on Monty Python-/South Park-/Family Guy-/The Office-esque pukathon. But oddly enough, it was only Lao people who were affected; the five foreigners on board were fine, though I wouldn't have been if I hadn't dosed up.

Before the man behind me lost his breakfast, I offered him a gravol and tried to mime what it was and how it might help. Unfortunately he threw up before it could take effect. I had to tilt my seat forward, past the vertical setting so that he could have access to the window we shared, but even still, he wasn't always successful getting it out the window...

As awful as I felt for those blowing chunks, I also felt bad for the pedestrians and people on motorbikes we were passing whom I suspect may have been impacted by either heads out of windows, or full puke bags being tossed out the windows... And now I understand why the buses at the station were getting such a thorough wash-down...

At one point, when all bags on board had been exhausted, the driver quickly pulled over to a roadside stand and got a new stash of bags which he tossed into the back.

Then, when we stopped for a break about halfway, the people who had been sick had lunch (I can't say I wasn't tempted to do a slow-motion dive across the table screaming 'nooooooooooo!'), only to repeat the process in the second half of the trip. But hey, at least the views were nice...

Rising above the basin of clouds cloaking the valley