Back to Lao! It’s a good thing I like Lao, because I’ve been spending a lot of time here lately. I have two more trips to run in Laos before the season slows down. The first is a corporate Charity Challenge for a group called Computershare. They are raising money for Care Australia to use on one of their projects in Laos. They are apparently raising $150,000! That’s a stack of cash in anyone’s language. When I first heard of them, I thought they were some sort of charity that shares computers with the less fortunate.
I head down to the ticket office to get myself a train ticket to Nong Khai where I then cross the border to Vientiane where we start the trip. It turns out that there is one ticket left and only in first class. This is OK. I’ve been keen to check out first class sleepers as I imagine they will be something like the ones that used to run between Sydney and Melbourne for which I have a nostalgic soft spot. This would mean sharing a cabin with one other person, but how bad can that be? I will undoubtedly be sharing with a quiet, polite Thai person.
In the meantime, my good friend Mr Paul Harrison is coming to Bangkok from Melbourne for some sort of Rugby game. He will stay with me for night before his team arrives the next day. This works out well, because it is the last night before I need to head to Vientiane. I thought originally that I would have to leave before he arrived, thereby missing him. But thankfully we overlapped. Well… when I say thankfully… in hindsight maybe I should not be so thankful. Being overseas for a while might give one the feeling that things have changed greatly and maybe for some strange reason may increase one’s impression of their own invincibility. The truth is that the only thing that seems to have changed is that he can drink far more than me. This has always been the case, but only marginally so. There seems to have developed some sort of gulf however, where my lifestyle has ruined my immunity to the drink and his has somehow increased his. So needless to say, I got quite drunk and in the haze of various beverages I do remember thinking to myself that we should probably stop drinking from buckets as this is likely to assist with the surplus consumption.
The next day is not pretty. For various reasons, Bangkok is not a good place to have a hangover in. This is magnified by the fact that I live in the same building as a children’s nursery. The little blighters start screaming their heads off around 7am. Paul decided that when he was feeling sick, a good place to spew might be over the balcony into the courtyard that I share with my lovely landlord and landlady. This must have been a wonderful surprise for her when she came out to tend to the garden in the morning. So a fairly sick looking Paul bids me farewell and heads for his team accommodation. I then have a few hours to contemplate the evils of drink before I have to get on the train.
At five thirty I drag myself, my bike and various bits of gear to a tuk tuk and then to the train station. I have some time to grab a noodle soup at the station, and as I am enjoying it, I think to myself that despite how bad I feel, I am in a good place with great food around me and really friendly people. Just think, as soon as I get on the train I can relax, out my feet up and read my book in the company of my polite, quiet ad friendly fellow train traveler.
In reality, my train companion is a little different to my expectation. He boards the train about an hour into a journey at Ayutthaya. He is a large Thai man with a large belly, well dressed in a polo shirt and business trousers with shoes so shiny that they match the greased and neatly combed black hair on his head. He looks shocked at my presence and proceeds to request of the carriage attendant that our beds be prepared immediately. He says nothing to me as he presumably doesn’t speak any English and my initial, pitiful attempt at Thai probably embarrassed both of us. I did actually feel for this man. Here he is… probably worked very hard and has over time managed to elevate himself to a point where in his fifties, he is able to travel in marginally greater comfort in first class. And here is a young upstart foreigner dressed in shorts, thongs and a t-shirt and looking decidedly unhealthy due to possibly some excess alcohol consumption.
Any feelings of sympathy towards the man evaporated very quickly. Maybe it was the snoring the whole night or maybe the guttural throaty sounds as he punctuated each snoring session with, snorting, groaning and sniffling every ten minutes or so. He actually sounded at one point as though he were a Cow in agony. He was like a fog horn! At some stage I went to the toilet at the end of the carriage and I could hear him halfway down the hall! On top of this, he must have taken something to help him sleep, because none of my attempts to wake him and shut him up worked. He only woke when carriage attendant shook him violently and told him that we were at his stop and that he needed to get off.
So I arrive in Vientiane all bright eyed and bushy tailed to start a new trip. Lack of quality sleep two nights in a row will at least mean hat I will sleep like a baby tonight. Some of our group arrives in the evening. Two of them have been victims of lost luggage at Bangkok Airport which is not unusual with the new airport. Hopefully it will turn up in good time.
It is about four thirty in the morning that I wake in a sweat. Shit I think, I have malaria!!! Shit… no hang on…. I have the flu!!! Damn it. This is what a few nights of sleep deprivation and unhealthy living does to you… you get the damn flu when you are about to start a big trip!!! No good! So I have to spend the first two days on the bus, watching everyone else ride. By the third day I am good to go though. The other tour leader Eric is one of the best in the business so this makes things easier.
The group size is proving to be challenging. In a lot of the smaller towns that we stay in they are unused to catering for large groups, so meals are late, rooms in insufficient supply. All this is being made even more difficult by the fact that my local guide Khian seems to have lost the plot a bit. He is normally good, but seems not to be coping with a large group. This might be partly because they are so into each other. It’s funny. Most people that come to Laos are really into Laos. They want to know everything and see everything. This group are interested in Laos, but they are really interested in the team aspect of the challenge. This is probably because they are from the same company and they have common ground and have some steam to let off.
The participants are from all over the world. The UK, Canada, USA, South Africa, Germany, Australia. This makes for really interesting group dynamics. The usual stereotypes do not apply. Quite often a big personality will hog the attention of everyone and the quieter ones might get lost in the craziness. In this group everyone gets to have a say and everyone participates. Those that have additional challenges such as lost luggage are surprisingly resilient and patient. Ursula from South Africa was without her bag for four days and simply got by on borrowed clothes and a bought helmet. Even when she spoke to the airlines, she kept an air of patience. This is good to see. It is certainly the way to get by in this part of the world. It is just not cool to lose your cool. I unfortunately cannot keep my cool when we get to yet another hotel that has insufficient rooms for despite our having booked them well in advance. This time it is because one of their guests decided not to check out. But we are bringing them a substantial amount of business with a big group. They should tell the bozo to check out or else! But this is Lao and the international rules of business do not apply here. You only do something if you could be bothered here. There is no need to get worked up about anything or go out of your way for anything. There is this word called “Sabai”. It means relax and you hear it spoken constantly. Even the greeting “Sabai Di” is basically saying are you relaxed? It is a really endearing quality of Lao people and makes them some of the friendliest you will meet, but when you are trying to do business it drives you bonkas!!!!
Anyway, the trip is going well asides from this. We head to Muang Khua up in the far north east near the Vietnamese border. From here we are traveling two hours by boat to a small village on the Nam Ou river then trekking for two hours to an even smaller village where we are visiting a Care Australia project. Muang Khua itself is a charming small town, untouched by tourism and with only a handful of buildings. The trip up the project is fantastic. The trip up the river is great with hairy moments through rapids and spectacular scenery. The trek is just as good and gives a feeling of true remoteness. When we arrive at the village, they put on a ceremony for us that involves sacrificing a chicken and tying some string around our wrists. It also involves the drinking of Lao Lao, the local home brew rice wine. Drank all over the country in varying strengths, Lao Lao is hard stuff and can make a mess of even the strongest drinker. The group have now discovered it, so happily, there are lots of Lao Lao moments for what is left of the trip.
So it’s an eight hour bus ride back to Luang Prabang where we have our final dinner and then hit the only bar in town to have some celebratory drinks. They close at midnight which might ordinarily put an end to the night, but not for the Computershare people, they take the party to the top of our hotel where there is a lovely rooftop garden. There is much revelry and drinking of Lao Lao. The next morning I am too ashamed to show my face to the reception staff Boun and Voung. I’m sure they will be annoyed for the late night noise and the mess that would have been left. To my surprise they are as friendly as always and simply want to know when I am coming back through. You see… this is Lao… you don’t want to get too worked up about anything.
I head down to the ticket office to get myself a train ticket to Nong Khai where I then cross the border to Vientiane where we start the trip. It turns out that there is one ticket left and only in first class. This is OK. I’ve been keen to check out first class sleepers as I imagine they will be something like the ones that used to run between Sydney and Melbourne for which I have a nostalgic soft spot. This would mean sharing a cabin with one other person, but how bad can that be? I will undoubtedly be sharing with a quiet, polite Thai person.
In the meantime, my good friend Mr Paul Harrison is coming to Bangkok from Melbourne for some sort of Rugby game. He will stay with me for night before his team arrives the next day. This works out well, because it is the last night before I need to head to Vientiane. I thought originally that I would have to leave before he arrived, thereby missing him. But thankfully we overlapped. Well… when I say thankfully… in hindsight maybe I should not be so thankful. Being overseas for a while might give one the feeling that things have changed greatly and maybe for some strange reason may increase one’s impression of their own invincibility. The truth is that the only thing that seems to have changed is that he can drink far more than me. This has always been the case, but only marginally so. There seems to have developed some sort of gulf however, where my lifestyle has ruined my immunity to the drink and his has somehow increased his. So needless to say, I got quite drunk and in the haze of various beverages I do remember thinking to myself that we should probably stop drinking from buckets as this is likely to assist with the surplus consumption.
The next day is not pretty. For various reasons, Bangkok is not a good place to have a hangover in. This is magnified by the fact that I live in the same building as a children’s nursery. The little blighters start screaming their heads off around 7am. Paul decided that when he was feeling sick, a good place to spew might be over the balcony into the courtyard that I share with my lovely landlord and landlady. This must have been a wonderful surprise for her when she came out to tend to the garden in the morning. So a fairly sick looking Paul bids me farewell and heads for his team accommodation. I then have a few hours to contemplate the evils of drink before I have to get on the train.
At five thirty I drag myself, my bike and various bits of gear to a tuk tuk and then to the train station. I have some time to grab a noodle soup at the station, and as I am enjoying it, I think to myself that despite how bad I feel, I am in a good place with great food around me and really friendly people. Just think, as soon as I get on the train I can relax, out my feet up and read my book in the company of my polite, quiet ad friendly fellow train traveler.
In reality, my train companion is a little different to my expectation. He boards the train about an hour into a journey at Ayutthaya. He is a large Thai man with a large belly, well dressed in a polo shirt and business trousers with shoes so shiny that they match the greased and neatly combed black hair on his head. He looks shocked at my presence and proceeds to request of the carriage attendant that our beds be prepared immediately. He says nothing to me as he presumably doesn’t speak any English and my initial, pitiful attempt at Thai probably embarrassed both of us. I did actually feel for this man. Here he is… probably worked very hard and has over time managed to elevate himself to a point where in his fifties, he is able to travel in marginally greater comfort in first class. And here is a young upstart foreigner dressed in shorts, thongs and a t-shirt and looking decidedly unhealthy due to possibly some excess alcohol consumption.
Any feelings of sympathy towards the man evaporated very quickly. Maybe it was the snoring the whole night or maybe the guttural throaty sounds as he punctuated each snoring session with, snorting, groaning and sniffling every ten minutes or so. He actually sounded at one point as though he were a Cow in agony. He was like a fog horn! At some stage I went to the toilet at the end of the carriage and I could hear him halfway down the hall! On top of this, he must have taken something to help him sleep, because none of my attempts to wake him and shut him up worked. He only woke when carriage attendant shook him violently and told him that we were at his stop and that he needed to get off.
So I arrive in Vientiane all bright eyed and bushy tailed to start a new trip. Lack of quality sleep two nights in a row will at least mean hat I will sleep like a baby tonight. Some of our group arrives in the evening. Two of them have been victims of lost luggage at Bangkok Airport which is not unusual with the new airport. Hopefully it will turn up in good time.
It is about four thirty in the morning that I wake in a sweat. Shit I think, I have malaria!!! Shit… no hang on…. I have the flu!!! Damn it. This is what a few nights of sleep deprivation and unhealthy living does to you… you get the damn flu when you are about to start a big trip!!! No good! So I have to spend the first two days on the bus, watching everyone else ride. By the third day I am good to go though. The other tour leader Eric is one of the best in the business so this makes things easier.
The group size is proving to be challenging. In a lot of the smaller towns that we stay in they are unused to catering for large groups, so meals are late, rooms in insufficient supply. All this is being made even more difficult by the fact that my local guide Khian seems to have lost the plot a bit. He is normally good, but seems not to be coping with a large group. This might be partly because they are so into each other. It’s funny. Most people that come to Laos are really into Laos. They want to know everything and see everything. This group are interested in Laos, but they are really interested in the team aspect of the challenge. This is probably because they are from the same company and they have common ground and have some steam to let off.
The participants are from all over the world. The UK, Canada, USA, South Africa, Germany, Australia. This makes for really interesting group dynamics. The usual stereotypes do not apply. Quite often a big personality will hog the attention of everyone and the quieter ones might get lost in the craziness. In this group everyone gets to have a say and everyone participates. Those that have additional challenges such as lost luggage are surprisingly resilient and patient. Ursula from South Africa was without her bag for four days and simply got by on borrowed clothes and a bought helmet. Even when she spoke to the airlines, she kept an air of patience. This is good to see. It is certainly the way to get by in this part of the world. It is just not cool to lose your cool. I unfortunately cannot keep my cool when we get to yet another hotel that has insufficient rooms for despite our having booked them well in advance. This time it is because one of their guests decided not to check out. But we are bringing them a substantial amount of business with a big group. They should tell the bozo to check out or else! But this is Lao and the international rules of business do not apply here. You only do something if you could be bothered here. There is no need to get worked up about anything or go out of your way for anything. There is this word called “Sabai”. It means relax and you hear it spoken constantly. Even the greeting “Sabai Di” is basically saying are you relaxed? It is a really endearing quality of Lao people and makes them some of the friendliest you will meet, but when you are trying to do business it drives you bonkas!!!!
Anyway, the trip is going well asides from this. We head to Muang Khua up in the far north east near the Vietnamese border. From here we are traveling two hours by boat to a small village on the Nam Ou river then trekking for two hours to an even smaller village where we are visiting a Care Australia project. Muang Khua itself is a charming small town, untouched by tourism and with only a handful of buildings. The trip up the project is fantastic. The trip up the river is great with hairy moments through rapids and spectacular scenery. The trek is just as good and gives a feeling of true remoteness. When we arrive at the village, they put on a ceremony for us that involves sacrificing a chicken and tying some string around our wrists. It also involves the drinking of Lao Lao, the local home brew rice wine. Drank all over the country in varying strengths, Lao Lao is hard stuff and can make a mess of even the strongest drinker. The group have now discovered it, so happily, there are lots of Lao Lao moments for what is left of the trip.
So it’s an eight hour bus ride back to Luang Prabang where we have our final dinner and then hit the only bar in town to have some celebratory drinks. They close at midnight which might ordinarily put an end to the night, but not for the Computershare people, they take the party to the top of our hotel where there is a lovely rooftop garden. There is much revelry and drinking of Lao Lao. The next morning I am too ashamed to show my face to the reception staff Boun and Voung. I’m sure they will be annoyed for the late night noise and the mess that would have been left. To my surprise they are as friendly as always and simply want to know when I am coming back through. You see… this is Lao… you don’t want to get too worked up about anything.
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