Laos: Vang Vieng

Before we could reach Laos, Liv and I had to complete The Journey of Doom. This was 24 hours of travel consisting of: a minibus ride from Sapa to the train station (during which the driver played one and a half songs from some 80s Australian pop band on repeat – we almost went mad), a night train to Hanoi, a taxi to the airport, a plane to Laos, a taxi to the “bus station” then a five-hour minibus ride from Vientiane to Vang Vieng. Never again!

The official "bus station" of Vientaine (the capital city of Laos). Note the yellow plastic bag of beersies - here we see drivers and supervisors in the middle of an afternoon session.

Laos is comparative to New Zealand in that it is sparsely populated, very green and has cool mountains and rivers. Our first stop, Vang Vieng, reminded me of the movie The Beach, in which a group of young people live in isolated paradise until two get fatally bitten by a shark and ruin the fun. Vang Vieng gained notoriety in 2011/12 when there was a government crackdown following the river-tubing related deaths of 27 tourists in a single year. We’ll get to river tubing soon. Despite the crackdown, there still seemed to be absolutely no rules. You are responsible for staying alive in Vang Vieng; no one is going to stop you from doing the many fun (and dangerous) things that may be outside of your capabilities.

A fun swing bridge.

Vang Vieng is the kind of place young people go to for a few days, then end up staying for a few years, emerging at the age of 30 with dreadlocks, tattoos, a peaceful aura and no memories (there were a lot of drugs - openly available from bar menus). Located within the mountains, Vang Vieng also offers an array of super cheap outdoor activities including hiking, motorbiking, kayaking, tubing, swimming and caving. I would expect it to develop into a more well-known tourist destination in the next ten years.

The Blue Lagoon - where people who can't swim are rescued by those who can. No one can resist a rope swing.

On our first night, Liv and I tested out the party scene, including the infamous Sakura Bar. Sakura is pretty much the worst place in the world to be if you are sober, but one of the best places to be if you are not. It is crammed full of young people of various nationalities wearing singlets and glitter, jumping up and down on a rickety wooden stage in the centre of the bar. Weirdly, there was one rule that required Sakura to close at 12pm, but this was OK because other bars down the street were, for some inexplicable reason, allowed to stay open. Most bars in Vang Vieng, including Sakura, gave out singlets when you purchased a certain number of drinks (one or two), so for the rest of your travels you can let everyone around you know where you've been (others can then make an informed decision as to whether to give you a fist bump or avoid you). 

Our favourite restaurant was home to a group of mangy cats, effectively making it a cat cafe. Here, sensing my desperation for their attention, the kittens opt to sit next to Liv. 

On our second day in Laos, Liv and I went river tubing. This extremely fun activity involves getting in a tube wearing a barely functional life jacket (I swear every single life jacket in Asia is broken) and floating down a river for a few hours with a group. We were with a group of guys from Japan who couldn’t swim. Our guide was 15. As you float down the river, bars (read, wooden decks over the river with plastic tables, cocktails and beer) throw out ropes and pull you in, because floating is thirsty work.

Our river tubing crew. We all survived.

There were only two bars left on the river. Presumably the others had been removed during the great government crackdown. The second bar was equipped with a volleyball court and a zipline that went right across the river. We were taught how to zipline by a group of small boys (~7-12) who then joined us for a game of volleyball. After a while, they got tired and went for a cigarette break. Did you read that correctly? Yes. A group of tiny kids went for a smoke, enabled by the adult at the bar who gave them a pack. In an act of innocence and generosity, one kid offered us his cigarettes. No, thank you. 

  

That evening, we met up with Eric and his friends on their Contiki tour for a second night of party scene investigation and singlet collecting. This severely  impacted our experience the next day in a very negative way, as Liv and I attempted to participate in a full day tour of kayaking, cave tubing, hiking and swimming.

Provided you can swim, I would definitely recommend visiting Vang Vieng. 

Next stop, Vientiane! 

Bonus scenic river shot. 

Vietnam Part 2: Sapa

A village below the city.

Sapa is a Disney kingdom nestled amongst the clouds. Like all things nestled amongst the clouds, it’s a pain in the ass to get to. You have the option, from Hanoi, of either a six hour day trip by bus, or an eight hour train trip by night followed by a one hour minivan ride through the mountains. Wanting to make the most efficient use of our time, and falsely believing we would get a decent sleep, Liv and I opted for the train. (Helpful Hint: It is impossible to sleep in the top bunk of a sleeper train. You will be subjected to loud banging noises, swaying, jolting, and musty air-conditioning blasted directly into your face. Always book the bottom bunk.)

On our journey to Sapa we shared a train cabin with Stephanie and Melissa, two nurses (and dog lovers) from Montreal. Travelling is much easier in larger groups, probably because we look more threatening, so we teamed up for the rest of our Sapa trip. After a perilous early morning ride over the mountains, we arrived in Sapa to a large group of women and girls dressed in traditional H'mong clothing. They had enthusiastically gathered outside the doors of our minibus before it had even stopped. As we disembarked, we were inundated with offers of accommodation and requests to purchase stitched purses and jewelry.

We fought our way through, tired and grumpy to find our hotel at the lower end of Sapa - a beautiful, colonial styled building balanced precariously on the side of the mountain. Sapa really looks like a fairy tale city, in equal parts due to its location high in the mountains, its narrow, windy roads, and the colour, style and gravity defying nature of its buildings.

Our hotel allowed us a view over the restaurant next-door so we could watch the daily butchering of chickens and ducks for fresh meat.

Unfortunately, it is impossible to walk down any street in Sapa during daylight hours without being approached, followed and told to purchase various trinkets by women and children from local villages. To engage you in conversation, you will be asked “where are you from?” “How old are you?”. If you answer with anything other than “I’m not interested, thank you” in a firm voice three times over (which feels hideously rude), you will be identified as a target and will have attracted a mob of four to ten women and children by the time you reach the end of the street. From an experience point of view, the children are the worst. Parents put their children to work “between school” selling woven bracelets. These tiny children follow you around town, including into bars, not speaking but making “mmmmm” noises and looking up at you with googly eyes. We refused to purchase anything from children so as not to encourage them, or more likely their parents, to pull them out of school and work in the heat. It was very sad and seems like the type of thing city authorities would monitor and regulate more heavily.

A serene and slightly spooky lake at the top of the city.

Sapa is most famous for its mountainous rice fields, through which you can hike to see various villages. We booked a guided 8km hike through our hotel. (Helpful Hint: Never book day trips in Vietnam/Laos over the internet prior to arrival. Tours can be booked from hotels, backpackers and travel agencies when you get there for a fraction of the price.) The next day, we pulled on our exercise gear and embarked on what turned out to be a great workout. Apparently we were there at the “worst” time of year, the rice having just been cut the week prior to our arrival. It was still beautiful. The man-made terraces made the impressive mountains even more interesting. 

Spot the water buffalo!

The hike started in Sapa and wound its way down into the valley below. As we walked, our guide enlightened us on some of the traditional medicine techniques of the region; she pointed to the circular scars on the foreheads of herself and some of the other women, and informed us that, as a cure for headaches, villagers would put burning coals inside a hollowed-out water buffalo horn and hold it to their heads (or the heads of their children) until the headache went away. #verybadidea

Team photo half way down the mountain. 

In addition to our hired guide, each of us on the hike was accompanied (uninvited) by a local village woman wearing traditional dress. They spotted us as we began our hike and latched onto the group while our guide acted oblivious. The same seemed to have happened to everyone else we passed. When we reached the lunch location, they pulled out their wares and their maximum English “you buy from me, I leave you alone.” Fine. You win this round.  

Despite being relentlessly followed and hassled by locals, Sapa left a good impression. It's an unusual and visually impressive place, definitely worth visiting if you find yourself in Vietnam.

Next Stop – Laos! 

Intro and Vietnam Part 1: Hanoi

Introduction 

Dear All,

The purpose of this blog is to keep friends and family up to date on my travels. The secondary purpose is to efficiently share my opinions, of which I have many, on various travel and food related matters.

In October 2016 I left my job in New Zealand and packed my bags for a two-year stint in Toronto. As is the trend with young Kiwis, I took advantage of my time between jobs to spend a month travelling in Vietnam, Laos and Japan along the way. (Helpful hint: one month is not long enough!)

And so it begins.

Vietnam Part 1: Hanoi

I had originally intended to travel solo for two weeks in Vietnam and Laos, having developed a level of unwarranted confidence after an earlier group trip through Cambodia. Fortunately, Liv decided to come too. After three intense, G&T themed planning sessions, we arrived in Vietnam to realise that neither of us had remembered to learn a single word of Vietnamese. Oops. Luckily for us, most people we came across in Vietnam could speak some English – from a minimum of “Hello! You buy!” to the near-fluency of most hotel and tour staff.

Our first stop was Hanoi, the capital of Vietnam. There is nothing particularly exciting to do it Hanoi. We visited the botanical gardens and a museum which contained what seemed to be a bunch of movie props and a very informative (though biased) display on Ho Chi Minh. There were also a few temples but nothing that stood out as being unique to the city. What I found most interesting about Hanoi were the more holistic observations regarding how everything ticked along.

Symbolic representation of the history of Vietnam? Definitely not. Art at the Ho Chi Minh Museum. 

A rat shaped bush at the botanical gardens. Someone had gone to the extra effort of adding teeth and eyes to all the bush animals. Creepy. 

Arriving in Hanoi, or really anywhere in South East Asia, can be an affronting experience. There is a wave of heat followed by a wide variety of unusual and often unpleasant smells. Durian is the number one cause of unpleasant street smells, followed by the occasional waft of human excrement and uncooked meat. (It is worth noting that in general, Hanoi appeared to be a relatively clean and tidy city with a vigilant garbage collection system.)

There are a range of good smells too. In the evening, street vendors on tiny stools deep fry bananas in large pans over makeshift stoves. Every 20 metres or so, BBQ meat vendors cook sticks of meat over small rectangular metal boxes filled with coals. This meat smells like heaven but looks like it may result in two days confined to a hotel bathroom. To her credit, Liv was brave enough to try the meat and suffered no ill-effects.  

True Banh Mi must be purchased from a street cart to ensure that the pate and meat has been sitting warm for at least 4 hours, allowing for maximum flavour development. 

Liv and I spent two day exploring Hanoi. The main tourist area, the Old Quarter, consists of densely packed shops, bars and restaurants segregated into categories. There was a bar street, a clothing street, a Chinese medicine street and a street with hardware-type stores that all sold massive containers of glitter (indicating that there must have been some cool parties going on that we were not aware of). Liv and I didn’t discover the bar street until our second trip to Hanoi 10 days later. We decided the city was tame and spent most of our time walking, eating and getting massages (pre-detox).

Liv and I stumbled upon this fancy private courtyard after a series of navigational failures outside of the city. 

During our explorations, the lack of rules was very apparent. People do things in Hanoi that you just can’t do in New Zealand. One of these things involved bringing a live chicken to work on a scooter, leaving it to hang out on the footpath for the day, killing it in the evening (on the footpath), boiling it to remove the feathers (on the footpath) then cooking it and eating it (all on the footpath). If hell froze over and I brought a chicken to work in NZ, and was not mercilessly laughed out the door, I am confident I would not have been able to turn it into a meal. 

Overall, Hanoi was OK. It’s a very busy city which can feel relatively unsafe at times due to the large number of scams that must be actively identified and avoided as you traverse around the city. It’s also nearly impossible to cross a road as red lights don’t seem to mean anything and pedestrian crossings are merely suggestions to those on foot that they can give it a shot at that location. Two days was more than enough to see everything.

Next stop – Sapa!