Nov 17: Evening, Vientiane
It rained. Some roads turned muddy. Other roads had potholes filled with muddy water. It became less dusty though and it was much cooler to walk.
Wat That Luang was very festive. Even before we reached the temple grounds, banners and streamers in all sorts of colors - red, green yellow, orange and pink - decorated the approach.
Within the temple grounds, there was continuous chanting and religious music. Many people came in groups, with friends and family. Everyone wore new clothes, the men more sombre in their shirt-and-trouser outfits while many women chose a vibrant ensemble to go with their sparkling accessories of gold and precious stones.
None, however, could match the rich, gleaming gold of the central stupa
, its spires rising majestically into the cloudy sky. People gathered at the broad, square base of the stupa, offering incense and prayers. Smoke, from candles and joss sticks, and the not-unpleasant smell of incense permeated the surroundings.
Outside, many visitors thronged the huge food and fun fair that surrounded the temple complex and its suburbs. Standing out, among the palm trees, was the ferris wheel. A stone-throw away, people milled around the multitude of stalls selling food, drinks, clothes and sundries, their shopping enlivened by loud pop music.
Further away from the temple complex were rancuous game stalls offering more energetic entertainment, such as hoop tossing. For a small fee, a participant got three to five small rings or hoops. Throw (aiming was optional, it seemed) one of those hoops towards the generous spread of prizes, such as bottled drinks and cans of beer.
A whoop of delight came from a nearby stall. Someone had snagged a coveted prize.
Budget (for two in kip and USD)
Oct 17
Room >> US$15Tuk-tuk to That Luang >> K5,000Lunch >> K20,000Entry to Si Saket + donation >> K5,000Dinner >> K20,000Dessert >> K2,000
Oct 18
Room >> US$15Breakfast >> K16,000Bus to Buddha Park >> K3,000Entry to Buddha Park >> K6,000Bus to Vientiane >> K3,000Lunch >> K14,000Tea & coffee powder >> K58,000Postcards >> K3,000Titbits >> K12,000Mend shoes >> K6,000Dinner >> K24,000Supper & beer >> K12,000
Next... Lonely Planet to the rescue
Nov 16: Night, Vientiane
The express bus is as fast as the chicken bus.
It took us more than seven hours to get from Savannakhet to Vientiane in our express bus. For some reason, I kept thinking about the hare and the tortoise during this bus journey.
What a waste of money! To add insult to injury, foreigners had to pay more to take the express bus whereas the price of a ticket for the chicken bus was the same, regardless of nationality. Also, this express bus was not as clean as the other chicken buses we had taken.
Midway through our 'leisurely' ride, the driver stopped for lunch. After crossing a bridge, he pulled to the side, where the road curved gently, opening onto on a patch of dusty ground. Erected on this flat land were a few box-like shacks, like the temporary quarters of a construction site. There was a makeshift canteen, a row of offices or dorms (not sure which) and space for vehicles to park.
Ignoring the passengers, the driver and his attendant made a beeline for the canteen, to a table where food was laid out. They ate a tremendous lunch, heaps of white rice with two or three dishes. The rest of us had to make do with over-priced snacks or fried rice or noodles for lunch.
Deciding to eat a late lunch in Vientiane, Annie and I subsisted on our pack of biscuits, bottled water and the last of our M&Ms (Comfort food from home and, yes, they do melt in your mouth, not in your hands!). Most of the passengers looked more than ready to leave this dusty plain by the half-hour mark.
But, not our replete bus crew.
So we waited, languishing in the stuffy bus, hiding under the meagre shade of the canteen or shuffling desultorily in the early afternoon heat. Finally, some forty minutes into our enforced break, the driver slapped on his cap, got into the bus and gunned the machine. We piled in and were on our way again.
At the outskrits of Vientiane, the driver switched off the aircon. Windows flung open; hot, heavy air sunk into the bus, along with fine, light dust. With many people alighting and unloading their luggage, we did not reach Vientiane until half an hour later. I thought we were finishing our bus ride in a swirl of dust, heat and sweat.
But, some 20 minutes later, the driver switched on the aircon again. Windows came down; dust settled. We rolled into Vientiane station.
Addendum
Tuk-tuk drivers at Vientiane station are learning to be the predators that its counterparts in some other countries have devolved into.
This time round, one from this lamentable species asked for US$1 per person (>10,000 kip) for a 5-10 minute Tuk-tuk to our guesthouse. We eventually found one willing to drive us to our guesthouse for 5,000 kip.
Budget (for two in kip and USD)
Room >> US$21Breakfast >> K2,000Tuk-tuk to bus station >> K3,000Bus (Savannakhet to Vientiane) >> K80,000Tuk-tuk to guesthouse >> K5,000Lunch >> K16,000Groceries >> K40,000Dinner >> K49,000
Next... Festival
Nov 15: Night, Savannakhet
We arrived at the compact bus station bright and early this morning. We did not have to ask around for long before a bus boy beckoned us energetically.
"Vientiane! Vientiane!" He hopped off his bus and reached for our bags.
"But, we're going to Savannakhet!"
"Yes, yes!" And grabbed Annie's bag.
He was certainly enthusiastic and cheerful, but we were not too sure about boarding his to-Vientiane bus yet. We did not want to end up in Vientiane just yet.
So Annie tightened her grip on her bag and soon we were engaged in a lively tug of war, with the guy pulling us to his bus, chained as we were to Annie's bag. No way were we going to lose our belongings in this ignominious manner. And all this while, the bus boy kept up his vigorous litany of "Yes, Savannakhet! Yes! Yes!"
By now, the passengers in the bus must be thoroughly entertained, judging by the number of faces glued to the windows, avidly tuned in to the drama on the floor.
Finally, the bus boy realised he was never going to get us to board through such 'hardsell'. His driver was getting impatient. The engine was rumbling. He stopped tugging and we nearly careened into him, no doubt leading to more mirth from within the bus. He needed the right approach fast to snag his last two customers.
"Yes, yes! Savannakhet, Vientiane!" He finally said the magic words, confirming that his Vientiane-bound bus would stop in Savannakhet en route to the Lao captial.
Up and into the bus we went, greeted by the stony-faced driver in sunglasses and a sea of stares and grins. Ah, foreigners!
The bus pulled out of the station and everyone settled down to the humdrum rhythm of the road. Although we had provided the morning's excitement, we were still charged the full fare to Savan by the grinning bus boy. They say it is a hard life for an artiste. And so it is...
It was a hot and dusty ride in the 'chicken' bus. During the first couple of hours, we stopped and stopped. At some of these stops, hawkers rushed into the bus to sell roast chicken, sticky rice, drinks, watermelon slices and even toilet rolls!
By then, our bus was very crowded. Sacks of rice paved the aisle, with baskets parked on and beside them. These obstacles did not deter the enterprising hawkers.
Several hours later, we rolled into Savan's bus station. After disgorging its two reluctant passengers and a few other locals, the bus sped off to Vientiane, its final destination many, many, more miles away.
Savan is not as dusty as Pakse, but it feels more humid. Walking around town earlier, we saw many buildings that looked abandoned. In reality, only some were; others had people living in them.
Four- and multi-legged problem
Yesterday, Surada (one of our Wat Phou excursion mates) said Luang Prabang (LP) might have a problem with rats. She said she and her husband saw a rat run across their room in Phousy Guesthouse. While in LP, we saw dead rats on the road, flattened by passing vehicles, but both Sayo Guesthouse and Tum Tum Cheng, our accommodation choices in LP, were very clean.
Then, Alex, another excursion mate, added that her room in Lankham Hotel, where we rented our minivan to Wat Phou, had an ant problem. She also told us that she and her friend had been bitten by the ants and showed us some red spots on her arm. Our room in Pakse was okay, but there were ants in our bathroom, no doubt attracted by the insect graveyard and the wet floor there.
Last leg soon
Tomorrow, we begin the last leg of our Laos trip. We have had a great time so far and I am a little sad to leave. On a brighter note, we intend to eat very well on our last two or three days in Vientiane!
Budget (for two in kip and USD)
Room >> US$8
Breakfast + coffee >> K13,000
Tuk-tuk to bus station >> K6,000
Bus to Savannakhet >> K40,000
Tuk-tuk to guesthouse >> K5,000
Lunch >> K15,000
Tuk-tuk to express bus station >> K3,000
Dinner >> K26,000
Next... Vientiane again
Nov 14: Night, Pakse
I have finally finished my shower. My first attempt to clean up was after our full-day excursion to Wat Phou in Champasak. That was shortly after 5 pm. It is now 10 pm.
To Wat Phou
The journey to Wat Phou was enjoyable. Our merry band of six women and a lone male settled comfortably in the minivan rented from Lankam Guesthouse, where Wendy and her friends were staying. Our driver was the strong, silent type, conversing with an occasional word, grunt or look at Matt, designated our communication conduit by virtue of his gender and his seat next to our driver.
So, congenial company and light-hearted conversation along boring stretches helped to pass the time. A sample:Surada (Matt's wife): "He dipped his food in horse's blood! Vietnamese delicacy. Got sick after eating!"Alex: "We stayed at the Royal Peacock in Keong Saik Street."CL: "This was once a red-light district in Singapore."Wendy: "Have some of these. Don't know what they are, some kind of fruit."Annie and CL (eyeing fruit and plucking one from the bush under our noses): "Er, thanks!"
Our journey to Champasak got really interesting at the river crossing, as we were munching the unknown fruit (like a kind of crunchy berry). The fruits, still attached to their twig-like branches full of leaves, was supplied by our taciturn driver, who had left our vehicle for a smoke and bought the bushful of fruits from hawkers nearby. By the river bed, some locals were selling fish, so fresh they were still swimming in their cages, half-submerged in the river.
We waited for our turn to cross, then our minivan rode onto the vehicle ferry, which was mostly made up of broad wooden planks nailed together to lay across the curved, hollowed out, bellies of three tugboats secured side by side. Placidly, we made it to the other side of the river without incident, enjoying a light breeze through our opened windows.
We reached the summit of the temple complex after climbing a series of uneven, narrow and steep stairs. The nimble locals, most wearing sandals or slippers, certainly put Annie and I to shame.
Wat Phou would have been a lot more atmospheric if not for the noisy labourers. We visited when the labourers had stopped for lunch. Some had eaten and were singing (nice!), some appeared to be playing games (noisy!) and some were gambling (in a sanctuary still in use!). When they started work at about 1.20 pm, the human noise was replaced by the drone and whine of machines.
Shower, interrupted
We got back from Wat Phou at about 5 pm. The four ladies and guy wanted coffee more than a shower, so they went to the cafe first. Wendy told us this was a new French cafe they had discovered. After agreeing to meet the gang for coffee, we hurried back to our guesthouse to shower off the dust and sweat.
In our room, we found there was no running water. One of the women housekeepers indicated that water should come on at 6 pm. So out of the guesthouse again, to join Wendy and friends.
But, we could not find the cafe. After walking around the part of town where the cafe was supposed to be found, we gave up and headed back to our guesthouse, where, hopefully, a cool refreshing shower awaited.
Unfortunately, six o'clock came and went. And still no water.
At 6.20 pm, we went downstairs to look for help. The man behind the counter got up and went to inspect the taps in our room. Several twists and turns of the faucet yielded no water. Man and tap faced off, in a silent battle of wills. The tap stubbornly stayed dry. Finally, the man said the water would come at 8 pm.
We gave up and went for dinner. We walked to May Kham, where we had a very tasty dinner the previous night. And we met our fellow diner, a 30-ish Dutch woman, again.
Since food was served leisurely, we started chatting across our tables. We recommended the piquant duck. Our Dutch friend told us that this was her second trip to Laos. We all agreed that Laos was a country that grew on us the longer we stayed. When our appetiser, spiced meat rolls, arrived, served by the cheerful lady owner herself, we passed the plate to our friend and she graciously took a small piece. We continued to talk.
Then, our main courses arrived. Duck (again) and vegetables for us and duck for her. Eating alone in a restuarant like this usually meant being stuck with one dish because even the smallest portion was more than enough for one person. Of course, we had to eat the duck with plain rice, just the staple to mop up all that delicious gravy. We got down to the very serious business of inhaling our food and conversation ceased for the duration.
After the meal, we started chatting again and the lady owner was happy to leave us alone after serving us a complimentary plate of fruits. Staff swung by occasionally to make sure our glasses of plain water or Chinese tea were topped up.
An hour later, at about 9 pm, a group of rowdy men and women came in. The women, well made up and in heels, clung to the arms of several men, who were dressed in long-sleeved shirts and tailored trousers. They talked loudly, smoked and brandished decks of cards.
The atmosphere darkened.
Until then, the lady owner was very relaxed and friendly. Now, restaurant staff rushed higgledy-piggledy, at the beck and call of the group. The harried lady owner directed her workers to set up tables for the group to smoke, drink and gamble.
Suddenly, one of the men plonked down at the Dutch woman's table and started speaking loudly and suggestively to her in English. This was the rancous leader of the group, a swaggering middle-aged man with tanned leathery skin.
She ignored him. He ignored us. Then he banged the table and laughed. We decided to leave. The lady owner looked relieved, quickly gave us our bill and sent us on our way.
This is the first time in our visit that we see such loutish behaviour. What makes it most unpleasant is the fear and anxiety we sense in the lady boss and her staff, even as they scamper to cater to the group's demands.
Annie and I walked back to our guesthouse in a sombre mood. When we found water flowing from our taps again, we cheered up somewhat. I got into the shower and had just finished washing my hair and face when the water ran out!
We left our room and found out from fellow guests that our floor (second storey and top floor) had no water again. We thought there was no water because there was not enough pressure to carry the water all the way upstairs. The staff could only stand and grin.
Finally, Annie and I used the bathroom downstairs. It was very nice to clean up after a sweaty, dusty day.
Budget (for two in kip and USD)
Room >> K60,000Breakfast >> K15,000Lunch >> K8,000Minivan >> K100,000 (K350,000 @K50,000 each)Entry (Wat Phou) >> K10,000Drinks >> K10,000Dinner >> K64,000
Next... Tug of war
