Hello Ladies & Gents 🙂
Emma and I settled into Vang Vieng, as we prepared for Christmas. The bungalow we had rented was nice, although Charlotte had had to pitch in with a random traveller from Scandanavia, Thomas, who was concerned that his girlfriend might get wind of their sharing a bungalow, and much as it was all totally innocent, he was angsty at the prospect of said girlfriend finding out.
Otherside Bungalows
The following day we juggled bungalows, as a spare one had became available, so that Charlotte could obtain a bungalow to herself, and Thomas could chill out and limit his guilt. We transferred to Bungalow Number 13.
‘Unlucky for some’ I remarked to Emma, who promptly informed me that she had always viewed 13 as a lucky number. Thereafter, we stomped off to survey our surroundings from a local mountain, which serves as a viewing point of the immediate vicinity.
We sat on a small jagged rock at the top, a little precarious!!
Whilst not on par with Mount Merapi, the climb was steep, and involved ascending and descending crude wooden ladders on route, either way. The scenery was spectacular, and we were able to overlook the river and the town from the vantage point at the top, and observe our bungalow resort to boot.
In the evening we were enticed into the ‘Oh La La’ bar with free shots of whiskey, being served by an Argentinian man we were to get to know, named Lisandro. He was a really nice guy, who was working for the bar to earn some cash, having had his wallet and personal possessions stolen from a dorm, whilst he had been attending a Full Moon Party.
Lisandro
Oh La La became somewhat of a regular haunt, and Emma and I drank in there variously with Lisandro, Charlotte, and on another evening Andreas and Roland, the Germans we had previously met at the border.
Proof the Daily Mail gets it so wrong… an Argentinian, a French woman and a Brit enjoying each other’s company!!
Travelling is strange , insofar as you almost inevitably bump into the same people as you go, sometimes from one country to the next. Indeed, one Japanese traveller, named Osaka, we met in Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur and then yet again in Melaka!
Andreas and Roland
The kids of the owner of the bar
Christmas day we spent idly lounging around in our bungalow hammock, and then proceeded back to the Oh La La Bar, where we drank Beer Laos in abundance, and listened to whatever rock they happened to be blasting on their stereo. Emma treated herself to a full Christmas dinner, and seeing as it was Christmas Day, we treated the bar cat to a few mouthfuls as well!
What a way to spend Christmas day!
I have to admit to really enjoying Christmas outside of the UK – no presents to have to purchase for friends and family at the last minute, and relatively little references to Christmas as a religious festival either. I find the whole commercialisation of Christmas somewhat repugnant at the best of times, and I can’t honestly say I missed partaking in it that much.
The only thing I really missed was not hearing Jonah Lewis’ ‘Stop the Cavalry’ and The Pogues ‘Fairytale of New York’, which are probably my favourite seasonal songs, after the UK Subs ‘Hey Santa!’ of course – they’re all priceless tunes in my humble view.
Boxing Day we elected to make the most of our environment, so cycled out to another mountain, which we dutifully climbed, so as to again take in the view. Spectacular – Laos is beautiful and a sight to behold.
Thereafter we cycled back to the town, and yet again sneaked into Oh La La, before heading to the Kangaroo Sunset Bar, where we bumped into Jack, who was with a female traveller he’d met from South Korea.
There was a couple at the top of the mountain building a viewing platform
The bar staff were all half cut in Kangaroo Sunset. We ordered Long Island Ice Tea cocktails, but the barman didn’t seem to really know what went in them, and threw in a shot of everything, including whiskey, as a consequence. Emma was unimpressed as she loathes whiskey, but noting this, the barman chucked her a free bar T-shirt, almost as if a consolation prize for his own incompetence – Ho Hum.
On our way back to the bungalow, we stumbled across a group of guys desperately attempting to retrieve a vehicle from a ditch where it had become stranded. I asked how on Earth the van had ended up getting stuck in the first place, to which we were explained, in no uncertain terms, that the driver had been pissed.
Fortunately no one had been injured, and Laos is so laid back no-one seemed to bat an eyelid, and certainly there was no prospect of the police being summonsed. We did the dutiful thing and mucked in to assist pushing the van out, but it was stuck solid in the mud.
We eventually excused ourselves with a view to getting another beer, planning to return a few minutes later. But upon getting back to our bungalow, we were shocked to discover we had been broken into! Our rucksacks had been pilfered, their contents strewn all over the floor. Our burglar had broken in via the bathroom, and gone through all of our personal possessions – Grrrr!
They went to town on my bag!
We were fortuitous insofar as we always took all of our valuables out with us, so we lost a handful of dollars, a cross which Emma had been gifted by Sister Margaret, and I was later to realise that my hair clippers had also been nabbed by the thief or thieves. It looked very much to be the work of local opportunists, and upon close inspection, the bungalow had been variously damaged by previous break ins.
Emma was particularly upset at the theft of her gift from Sister Margaret, but she contacted Margaret, and explained the circumstances of its loss. We reverted back to our original bungalow the following morning, and reported the break in to the owner, but he was reasonably uninterested, it has to be said.
Crime scene investigation – the entry point
None the less, we had been lucky not to have lost any of our electric equipment, and a bag containing gifts I had bought for friends and family had gone unnoticed by the intruders. We made a resolve not to let the incident take the shine off of our travels too much, but realised it was fast becoming time to hit the road.
We had heard that the Thousand Islands were very nice, and to that end, we made a decision to try to reach them before New Year.
Our destination? The island of Don Det, via Vientiane, the capital.
More next post!
Trent*/X
Lows, heights and mosquito bites! 