December 2 – Hoi An, Vietnam

Vietnam seems to offer a pretty amazing bus system called “Open Tours” for budget style travelers. We have been lurking between budget and mid range our whole trip but given a chance to save money and travel in comfort, we are the first to sign up. We had heard about the sleeper buses which, just as it sounds, provides overnight travel in comfortable air conditioned busses loaded with separate births for each person to stretch out in. Climbing aboard the initial impression was very futuristic. We met our newly adopted child, Paul Stagg from Australia, in Dalat and she joined us for our sleeper bus trip up to Hoi An. She is a mere 27 yrs young and incredibly patient to hang with us much older folk and much younger folk. As a group of five, we were given the back upper shelf of berths where we could enjoy the full effect of our crazy driver and every pot hole he hit by smashing up towards the ceiling. Janet ended up with the berth sans foot box so with every brake, she felt like she was going to catapult down the aisle and out the front window. Fortunately we had had another bus ride and a couple of days to get to know Paula a bit before we were crammed side by side in the sleeper bus. It was actually a pretty uneventful trip, just lots of fuel for fodder as we got settled. Unfortunately the passengers were at the mercy of the bus driver’s pit stops for the toilet. There is a toilet on board BUT there are strict instructions not to use it. The pit stops were some of the worst we’d seen in 5 months, but the “yuck” factor was somewhat numbed by being so sleepy. Secretly I was glad we were not allowed to use the toilet on the bus!

We arrived in Hoi An at the back of a hotel called Grasslands at 6:30am. The staff was instantly on us to book our stay with the hotel. Ever skeptical, we wanted to look around to make sure it was the right place for us. We had heard such amazing things about Hoi An, we wanted to make sure we were in the right spot, good price and well located. They wore us down (remember it was 6:30am) so we committed to one night mostly so we did not have to lug our packs around while we looked elsewhere. Well they lied like rugs. A 10 minute walk to old Hoi An was actually about 20 minutes down a dusty road. The beauty of Hoi An is the old town and being right in the middle of all the action, don’t compromise this if you ever get there. We found an amazing breakfast, booked another hotel and skulked back to back-peddle out of our one night. They were definitely not happy. It took some major body language (and 100,000 Dong) for us to get our passports back.

I can’t recommend the hotel we ended up at (The Serene III) because it looks like they may have charged us double for our stay…but that’s another story, one that is as of yet unsolved and in the hands of VISA. We loved Hoi An. For every bit of character lacking in Dalat, Hoi An was packed with it. The French influence has resulted in beautiful fusion colonial architecture which has been incredibly preserved. And the food is to die for. The old town is absolutely packed with good restaurants and food/drink; Cargo (don’t leave without the chocolate truffle cake), Café 19 (we ate there twice), Café 29 (cooking classes?), the market tables, pints of “fresh” beer for 4,000 Dong or about 25 cents and much more.


We rented bicycles and checked out the beach which is only a 4 km ride away. We dodged the forced bike parking and routed around the village to find our own entrance on to a deserted section of the beach where we found some guys to play Frisbee with and good surf to bob around in. Ron and I bought tickets for the old town tour which was a bit of a snore but the highlight was a peek inside the Diep Dong Nguyen House, still home for the sixth generation of a local family who give you a tour of their home themselves. Most incredible though was the record of the annual flood levels on the wall in the old home, with September ’09 being the most recent record holder at more than 9 feet. Apparently those living and doing business within the flood

area from the river in the old town have to take everything upstairs during the annual flood season and are usually marooned up there for 3-5 days when the river is at full height.

Of course the main attraction in Hoi An is the tailors! We heard the buzz about the tailors for weeks before arriving. There are apparently more than 200 tailors in this tiny old town. Tailors will make a copy of anything you want using a photo, sample or sketch as their guide. We, like most others, got caught up in the frenzy. So if Ron needs to don a suit over the next 10 years or so, he won’t have to call Rich Pestes and borrow one. The girls got silk P.J.’s made and Janet even participated too by getting a wool coat sewn up. Trips to the tailor took some time each day between measuring and numerous fittings. Hoi An is filled with normally scruffy travelers who are suddenly all spruced up in their new wardrobes. There are also many, many shops making shoes to order. As with most things, you definitely get what you pay for. We were given the heads up our niece Charlotte to use Yali’s for tailoring. Our friend Paula happened to have the same recommendation from someone else. They are not the cheapest but the quality is good. Ron of course had to test the theory and suss out a few shirts made at a cheaper location…but they are not nearly as good.

Having a new friend and a nice balcony off our spacious hotel room gave us all the encouragement we needed to buy a bottle of gin and have cocktails. We invited Paula and her friend over for gin and tonics feeling like we were doing something actually “normal” from our previous life. Ron even put out peanuts in little bowls and the girls brought over Oreos. Being from Australia, Paula had never tried them and was curious.


We are still enjoying our $1 pedicures Sadie, Anna & I got in the local market. We also had a wonderful evening out on the river for the Full Moon Festival drifting amongst the candle lit lanterns and steered by one of the most classic Vietnamese characters we had seen.

Our biggest cultural endeavor was a trip out to see My Son, ancient ruins from the Cham Dynasty. Never the ones to willingly join a tour bus if we don’t have to…we rented motorbikes but this time we also rented a guide to accompany us. The driving was fine, but the directions would have taken a lot of energy…it was nice to just follow. Turns out the “guide” was really just guiding us to the site and knew next to nothing about the ruins. We relied on our Lonely Planet guide to educate us (always a bit sketchy) and occasionally eavesdropped on other tour groups. It is a ruins site, in ruins. The ruins are the remnants of the religious and intellectual centre for the Kingdom of Champa. Sadly the Viet Kong used the area as a base during the American War and it was heavily bombed. The bomb craters are all still there. It is amazing there is anything left at all, especially once you learn the Champa did not use mortar while building with bricks. My Son is billed as Vietnam’s Angkor Wat, but I would beg to differ. It was interesting…but did not really grab our attention for long. Avoid the crowds and go early, the best time is apparently sunrise however we didn’t make it there that early. The best part for us was the setting and the drive there and back! Our guide took a detour on the way home, down a bank and weaved his way through a small neighbourhood and rice patties. Whoo Hoo!


Overnight trains were all booked and we weren’t up for the 18 hours bus journey from Hoi An to Hanoi. Fortunately air travel is often cheap in Vietnam, so we took advantage of a $35 pp. seat sale from Jet Star.

November 27 - Ho Chi Minh City & Dalat

Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

Good morning Vietnam! Our senses became instantly alert as we introduced ourselves to Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon. A sprawling city for about 10 million, it is pulsing and seemingly has more motorbikes than anywhere else in the world. We stood and watched traffic lights for an unimaginable length of time. All the motor bikes make their way to the front of the line at a red light, creating an absolute sea of helmets and bikes as far as the eye can see and spilling up on to the sidewalks. The evenings were even more alive; the lights illuminating a brilliant dazzle and the streets even more crowded with motorbikes, pedestrians and vehicles. Venturing across the street demanded a slow but steady pace through the traffic with unwavering confidence the drivers will not run you over. A pause or last minute change of direction is the kiss of death.

We stayed at the Blue River #2. Not especially Vietnamese sounding but it a locally run boutique hotel (meaning a step up from backpacker but not a large cold hotel). There is a #1 which we had originally aimed to book, but ended up in #2 because it has a family room. The #2 is about a 10 minute walk into the famed Pham Ngu Lao Area where the bulk of the backpacker hotels and funky restaurants are. The walk is an absolutely fair trade off for some peace and quiet both late at night and first thing in the morning. We found different routes to make our 10 minute walk shorter and shorter as we liked to eat at the plethora of eateries in Pham Ngu. Janet went down for the count with a head cold so she hit the pillow and left most of the exploring up to the rest.

With only a day, we had to be ruthless choosing what to do. We signed up for a trip out to see the Cu Chi Tunnels, the unofficial symbol of the incredible tenacious Vietnamese spirit. Cu Chi is a district just outside of Ho Chi Minh which became a centre for Viet Cong control of this large rural area during the American War. Cu Chi suffered such intense bombing and destruction and in turn, the Viet Cong developed their spirit and an amazing system of defense using simple methods and an intricate tunnel system below ground (more than 250km and several stories deep). Tunnel construction began during the French war in the 40’s and eventually became so strong (the red earth was perfect for construction) the Viet Cong were able to facilitate steadfast offence, defense and communication (provided routes from village to village) for more than 30 years. By the time they were fighting the Americans, bombs devastated the area above ground but he tunnels for the most part remained intact.

The soldiers lived below ground during the day and came above ground only at night. As tourists we were able to experience the tunnels by climbing below ground and following a 150m portion of a tunnel one story down. Wow. The entrances and the tunnels themselves are TINY. Fortunately they provide a couple of exit routes for those feeling uncomfortable down there. Ron & Anna made it to the end, coming above ground with wide eyes, a full sweat and burning thighs. Strangely enough they also have on site a rifle range where eager tourists can pay extra and try shooting. Unfortunately it is right beside the rest area so we took a break while flinching to unbearably loud gun shots.

Our tour guide was a bit of a crazy man. He sang to us on the bus, provided some forced shopping opportunities en route and called the Viet Kong “American War killer heroes” but he was also a fountain of knowledge. Ron stopped at the Saigon War Museum downtown on the way home but the girls skipped it with Janet choosing instead to sit in hotel air con (Janet was still feeling pretty poor) to read, do math and sleep. Of course the museum depicts the story mostly through incredibly graphic photography. Definitely a necessary part of any trip to Vietnam, but it is probably better the girls didn’t have to see it and try to sort out what they saw. Being in Vietnam and visiting the tunnels though did allow us to talk about the Vietnam War with Sadie & Anna, kind of a 3D history lesson. Check, another point for the plus side of why we went on this trip.

Dalat, Vietnam

Having barely two weeks in Vietnam meant we also had to be ruthless choosing our route destinations. We veered away from the coast and headed up into the hills to check out Dalat. Now I’m still not sure if our impression of Dalat was the first sign of us becoming travel weary…but we definitely had trouble falling in love with, or even in “like” with Dalat. The small city lacks character for sure, perhaps best summed up by a quick visit to the mini Eifel Tower in the centre of town. Even the local market lacked any special feeling or draw. My niece Charlotte was there before us and went “canyoning” which made her visit very worthwhile. We’ve also heard taking an “Easy Rider” tour on motorbikes is incredible. But for us, neither option was in the cards this time. Ron & I did rent a motorbike for an afternoon and did a mini speed tour of all the sights but nothing (except driving on a motorbike) seemed to really get us very excited.

The one tourist attraction we did take in was The Crazy House, a house or rather a “creation” by a local architect who has been channeling her artistic energy in to the design and building process since 1990. Her message is clear, everyone should return back to nature. It is kind of like The Hobbit House gone wild. Every room is named after a different creature (one room had a huge kangaroo with glowing red lights for eyes…creepy) and all rooms are connected by winding little staircases, outside bridges and little tunnels. You can get lost in it for hours, which we did. As luck would have it, Mrs. Dang Viet Nga (the architect) herself was there filming an interview while we were there. We stopped to listen to her while she pointed at the various family portraits and explained the history. She comes from a very political family, her father was Ho Chi Minh’s successor. She must be close to 80 by now but looks rather (ahem) well preserved perhaps from a few surgeries and her train of thought is rather eccentric. But nothing short of extremely eccentric could have ever created this house. We heard you can also stay overnight at the Crazy House but we declined the temptation, Janet was worried we’d get the kangaroo room!

The icing on the cake was being unable to find any decent meals, except for one. Our one good meal was a local Vietnamese eatery (no fuss, plastic chairs and great food) recommended by our hotel…our hotel was actually the best part of our stay. We stayed at a place called The Pink House, hosted by a guy named Rot (yes really) and Nam. We had our little list of places to check out once we got off the bus and ended up going with the guy waiting outside the bus trying to steer us towards his hotel. Going with these guys is kind of the last thing you want to do in general but he wore us down. And it turned out this time to be worthwhile. A bunch of guys went out on an easy rider day with Rot and had an amazing time checking out the area and the small village where Rot was born. I would recommend to anyone going to Dalat to stay at The Pink House and take a day on motorbikes with Rot and his brother.

We left wondering if perhaps we didn’t put the energy in required to discover the charms of Dalat but hey, you just can’t love every place you go.

November 22 – Chiang Rai, Thailand

Chiang Rai is about 3 hours by local bus from the Thai/Lao border at Chiang Kong and about 5 hours north of Chiang Mai. We decided to rest here for 2 nights until we flew back to Bangkok and then to Vietnam. We had not been as fastidious finding places to stay in advance so we began our tour of Chiang Rai by trudging around with our packs on trying to orient ourselves and find a place to stay. It’s a bit more sprawling than we had hoped with no real nucleus for guest houses. When in doubt, ask another white person, which we did and were led to PS Guest House.

PS was a clean and conveniently located place with a nice woman named Au (pronounced Aw) who owned and operated it. The best part was she provided free bicycles to get around and cheap motor bikes to rent. In hindsight we are not quite sure if perhaps PS was the centre of an underground “companion” service for foreign male travelers. Au is married to a British guy who seemed to have lots of foreign “friends” around who go out all afternoon and into the wee hours of the morning. Au has lots of girl friends she hangs out with playing dominoes and eating food until they meet the guys later. We can’t put our finger on it, but we couldn’t help but draw a few conclusions. There was nothing that felt outwardly inappropriate for us to be in the middle of and maybe, just maybe, Janet’s wild imagination was hard at work again! I have to say though, the prostitution in Thailand (female and male) seems to be abundant. I am curious why. Has it always been that way?

On to other topics. We rented motor bikes again to help us deal with our new crisis of trying to line up our Vietnam entry visas. We definitely let this detail fall through the cracks. By the time we got our act together we were paying through the nose for fast visas, money transfers and even flight changes. We briefly thought about getting on our flight sans visas and getting it by email upon arrival. Fortunately, we decided to be a little less “James Bond”, more safe and change our flights. Turns out you need to show your visa or visa letter of approval when checking in at the airport. Phew.

Chiang Rai is a good visit for about 2 days. We rode the motorbikes for about 30 km to The White Temple. Designed by a famous local artist, this temple has been under construction for 12 years and is expected to take about 90 years to complete…it is an intricate combination of traditional and contemporary with a whole lot of “goth” mixed in (skulls, hands coming out of the water and chipped mirrors everywhere). One of the more intriguing parts was the wax monk in the main part of the temple. We stood there for a very long time trying to decide if he was real or not and finally had to ask. There was also an interesting art gallery displaying the artists paintings and sculptures. Our journey back was following Ron’s nose through uncharted territory, taken to avoid going on the major highway we took to get out there. Fortunately his nose has proven itself over and over so the rest of us don’t bother worrying.

Our other activity in Chiang Rai was the night market. Seems most towns we have come across turn their downtown core into extensive night markets most nights. Shopping, food and drinks were abundant. We tried deep friend crickets (yes really) but bypassed the deep fried cockroaches and fried grubs. The report is that the crickets were pretty much air and crunch with a hint of tasty marinade BUT it was still pretty hard for us to wrap our minds around the fact we were eating bugs. Yech! We also tried deep fried ice cream which was really good – I mean it’s a combination of deep fried batter with still frozen (still not sure how the physics work on that one) ice cream in the middle, what’s the mystery? We found great real food at the market and the other night we went to a restaurant called Cabbage and Condoms. The kids were “grossed out” right from the start by the name, the art images of condom propaganda everywhere and the mannequin covered from head to toe with coloured condoms didn’t help either. The restaurant raises money for aids and safe sex awareness in Chiang Rai. A great cause…and an even greater teaching moment?

We were sad to say good-bye to Thailand. She was very kind to us and I think we would all love to come back one day. In the meantime, Janet has spouted off profusely about cooking Thai at home so we’ll see about that.

November 19 – Mekong Slow Boat Trip, Laos

Cruising in a slow boat along the Mekong River was one of Ron’s very first things on his wish list for our travel itinerary way back in the early planning stages. So it was with great expectations we climbed aboard in Luang Prabang heading for Huay Xai with an overnight stop in Pak Beng. Of course Ron being research guy had figured out the skinny on how to make sure we got on the best boat with the best seats possible. Every boat is different, some with comfortable seats and some with small wooden benches. Every boat is a traditional style river boat made of wood. Each day is 9 hours long on the boat so you can imagine the importance of making sure we were going to be comfortable. Ron chatted up the guys at the dock and found someone willing to reserve our seats and Ron made sure he was down there one hour early to secure the seats.

Nine hours on a slow boat on the river. Lots of time to read, listen to the iPods, do some math and gaze at the scenery going by. We were all a bit underwhelmed at the scenery. I think we were expecting to see more life along the river but there was only the occasional village and not much in between. It was very pretty…but 9 hours is 9 hours. The river is constantly changing levels, making the captain’s job difficult as he dodged around the exposed and unexposed rocks. A safe route one week is not necessarily a safe route the next. Which is why we chose not to take the fast boat. Option number two for the Mekong is to take a fast boat for about 6 six hours for the same distance we covered in 18 hours. Tempting, except for the rumors of high accident and fatality rates. A fast boat sped past our slow boat at one point. It was an oversized sea flea, low to the water with a loud engine on the back crammed with about 8 tourists leaning forward into the wind (and away from the screaming engine) wearing huge fluorescent orange bubble helmets. Five minutes like that would be too long let alone 6 hours…if you made it. We are glad we did the slow boat trip and would recommend it to others. There are just a few realities that come with it which are good to know about.

Overnight was in Pak Beng which is also accessible by car (meaning you can jump ship if you can’t handle the pace) and about ½ way between Prabang and Huay Xai. The town is nothing special and it is a bit of a race up the hill running into the various guest houses to find a bed. Boats converge here from both directions so the beds fill up quickly. The boat that drops you at Pak Beng, turns around and returns to where it came from. This means you have to get on a new boat for the 2nd half of the journey, and go through the process of securing seats all over again. Sadie and I took this early shift to get seats and it was a good thing as our boat only had about 16 comfortable seats, the rest were small wooden benches. But people always find a way to get comfortable sprawling all over on the floor and across the benches.

We arrived in Huay Xai at about 5:30 hoping to get across the river and into Thailand by the time the border office closed at 6pm. It was a total scramble to get all the forms filled (every country seems to require more than one departure and arrival card…health form…customs cards etc.) The girls are really good now at filling out their own and we have all finally memorized our passport numbers. We didn’t have a place to stay in Chiang Kong so we ended up trudging up and down the road in the dark trying to find a place. Turns out Chiang Kong didn’t quite have the charm we thought it had (and the Lonely Planet is badly out of date for this town) but we eventually found a good bed, dinner and internet. Breakfast was stellar at the Bamboo Café with the first whole grain bread, home-made jam and the best coffee we’d had in a long time.

November 17 – Luang Prabang, Laos

Our local bus journey from Luang Namtha to Luang Prabang was comfortable, long but comfortable. And most importantly, uneventful. No chickens but lots of locals and bags of rice. However, we all had seats to ourselves and the a/c worked. Aside from a long tuktuk ride with a driver who spoke no English and clearly had no idea where our guesthouse was, we finally arrived to Xieng Mouane Guest House. We chalked it up to a unplanned city tour…in the dark.

We instantly loved Luang Prabang. Its narrow streets, funky cafes, French inspired architecture and obvious history lured us in right away. Picking accommodation from afar (thank you Ron again and again for all the endless hours of research to find our next bed) is hard and time consuming, basing decisions on travel site reviews and bad maps. There is always a collective sigh of relief when we arrive, all the stars line up and we find the character, price, cleanliness and location are all up to snuff. Xieng Mouane Guest House is a short walk from the centre of Old Luang Prabang (where you want to be), close to the river, on the morning monk route and relatively quiet. We had the suite on the first floor with two rooms, unbelievably high ceilings, narrow doors leading out to the street and garden and private bathroom.

We ended up staying for 4 nights. A welcome length of time after lots of moving. Highlights during our 3 full days included; visitng the Wat Sieng Thong temple, cruising the Night Market, enjoying a bottle of wine (something we had not had or seen for months) and eating at the corner crepe and juice bar steps away from our guest house. Janet, having a nose for finding coffee, found a great brew at the Scandinavian Bakery which she trotted to every morning before breakfast. Marge (her mom) would have been proud. Our transportation of choice was bicycle and motorcycle.

We rented motorbikes one day and headed about 32 km to find the Tat Kuang Si Waterfall. We had been warned by local tuktuk drivers the road is dangerous. We decided to check it out and turn back if it felt wrong. We felt we had the road to ourselves, it was paved the whole way with gentle curves. No problem. Sometimes it’s hard to know who is giving you an honest warning and who is just trying to sell you. Not to mention the juggle of deciding what is the safest choice, especially with kids, given you are in a foreign country with a completely different set of standards. Remember, entire families of up to five or six will pile on their motorcycles and head from A to B. The road took us through villages and seemingly endless fields of rubber trees, teak forests and rice patties. Janet is getting quite excited about her new talents as a motorcycle driver (ok, It’s almost a scooter) and dreaming of trading in the Honda Odyssey for a Honda 125 with a basket on the front.

The waterfalls did not disappoint. There are numerous levels of turquoise coloured pools all connected by pretty little waterfalls. The largest waterfall is at the top and falls about 250 feet. We hiked up to the very top on the right side which was a bit steep and slippery for flip flops. At the top you can walk right across the falls looking back down to the first pool. There is a much better descent down the other side (which you can use to go up too if you figure it out quicker than we did) taking you back down to the various pools accessible for swimming. The best pool was the second one with a 12 foot waterfall we could jump off and a fabulous rope swing off a tree hanging over the pool. Yes, we all jumped and swung till we were water logged. It is definitely the backpackers scene in the pools and the later you go, the more crowded it gets. Just outside the park gates there was a number of food stalls offering everything from grilled fish, noodles or rice to baguette sandwiches.

The other cool thing about Luang Prabang is the daily ritual where the monks collect food from locals and tourists. They have a specific route and starting at about 6 am they depart from their monasteries to walk the route to collect their “daily bread” or rice, nuts, fruit etc. This is the only food they get for the day. By 6:30am the trail of monks dressed in their orange robes is as far as you can see down the street. They walk along in bare feet carrying a metal bowl strapped to their shoulders. The locals and participating tourists kneel on straw mats along the edge of the street and pass out food to every monk, without looking up at them. It is fascinating to watch and worth the early rise.

On our other full day we rented bicycles and toured around. The girls are fabulous now at navigating traffic on these big city bikes. We got caught in the rain but even that did not deter us from backtracking at the end to find the Jo Ma bakery with cappuccino and chocolate chip cookies to die for. We ventured across the river to the weaving and paper handicraft village called Xang Kong. The roads became pretty marginal and hilarious to navigate on our one gear bikes. Just when we thought we had officially entered “deliverance country” the village we had been aiming for came into view.

All in all, Luang Prabang was one of our highlights. Sometimes you can’t explain exactly why certain places stand out. Mmaybe it’s just the feel of a place or the mood of the traveler or a great combination of both.

November 13 – Huay Xai & Luang Namtha, Laos

We had our first mini-van travel experience from Chiang Mai up to Chiang Khong at the border of Thailand and Laos. Mini-Vans seem to be the predominant mode of travel in Thailand and Laos for travelers who are not flying and are not taking the bus. Most guest houses can find you a seat in one going to most destinations along the beaten path. Our trip was about six hours long and a little rough for us in the back. It was jammed with 9 passengers. Regardless, we got to Chiang Khong in time (and with lurching stomachs) to take a “ferry” across the Mekong River to Huay Xai in Laos.

Our border experience was completely smooth although I think we just beat the afternoon rush. And the words ferry and border did not quite muster up a realistic picture of what we experienced. Our “ferry” was a long, shallow traditional style Laos river boat with plank seats. The Mekong River at Chiang Khong/Huay Xai is quite narrow and took a couple of minutes to cross. The “border” consisted of a small office where we purchased our entry visas (don’t be fooled if travelling here and told you are unable to buy a visa upon entry) and a customs tent on the sandy river bank. We did our business and carried on up the sandy bank to the town of Huay Xai. Huay Xai is really just an entry point for Laos with no particular attractive features of its own. Most people sleep over in Chiang Khong (Thailand) and cross the border in the morning ready to either hop on a slow boat or fast boat to explore the Mekong.

We had decided to head up to Luang Namtha, best known for its access to great trekking, kayaking and rafting. We tried the minivan thing one more time…mistake! Our van was a beater with no A/C and our driver didn’t leave town until after 10am (hour late) after driving around and picking up enough fares to fill his van. THEN the steering broke about an hour into the drive. Sadly we were stranded on the side of the gravel road in the blazing heat with trucks barreling by for about 2 hours. We had water and one bag of Lays chips between the 8 of us. Finally a local bus came by and we jumped on. We were hot and tired when we arrived and found our first choice for accommodation to be full. Thank goodness for friendly fellow travelers who whispered in our ear of another equally fine guest house.

While shopping around for a trekking route we bumped into two couples who had just signed up with Green Discovery and looking for a few more people to make their trip complete…and cheaper. Skeptical about pushing off without a rest day after a couple of long travel days…we asked the girls what they thought and they said “sure, let’s go for it.” I think they were lured by the thought of new company rather than being trapped in the jungle with just the four of us! It was a great decision. We felt totally rested by the next morning and our trekking companions, Stephan & Zilke (German) and Regina & David (Austrian) were awesome company.

The trekking in Luang Namtha is all done via local operators who provide guides and arrangements to stay overnight in a local villages along the route. Having done it now, I don’t think it is possible or wise to try and venture out on your own. The route was cryptic and the communication in the villages is Laos only. Clients carry all their own gear and water (we were able to borrow sleeping bags), except for food which is provided.

Our route was a two day, one night trek promising ups and downs over about 5 hours the first day and a little less on day two. The difficulty was labeled as “moderate” however, after trudging up and down the first day, Ron and I both agreed it was more difficult than we had expected. Of course, Sadie & Anna finished with no problem. We are trying not to dwell on feeling like we’re getting OLD! Our route took us through rubber tree plantations, rice fields, second growth jungle, along the river and on day two we had almost the whole day in old growth jungle. This part of the jungle was amazing. The colours, sounds and vegetation were larger than life. At one point we were trekking up stream hopping from rock to rock when we lost our trail because an old growth tree and its strangler tree had fallen down. Our guide Phonsat, or Jungle Boy as we named him (after realizing he had a great sense of humor), seemed to have a 6th sense for how to get back on trail after using his machete to hack our way through. It felt like real jungle adventure. The guides carried our lunch both days and spread it out in a hut on the trail serving it Laos style with no utensils on huge banana leaves.

Village life. Tour operators used to provide homestays in the villages but they have since commissioned the villagers to build a separate dirt floor hut to provide a place to sleep and cook meals. The villagers are invited to sell clients handicrafts, beer and pop – the market was “open” in front of our hut before we could get our shoes off. A large number of the villagers trooped down to hang about our hut, inside and out making it a bit tricky to get changed. The guides buy the food they cook for us from the villagers and set a cooking fire right inside our hut. From the outside looking in, seems to be a pretty good arrangement; providing income for the villagers and leaving a minimal footprint behind. The concept is to experience village life unplugged – and it was! I mentioned they sold us beer, however the beer was “chilled” only by river water but of course we had to have one regardless. The villagers use empty beer bottles to dig into the ground along the bottom gap of the hut. A tiny older village woman passed us on day one. Our guide told us she was carrying about 40 kilos (probably the same as her body weight), part of which was the beer supply. What a hero!

Eventually the villagers settled back into their daily routine and we were left to have a swim in the river then wander around. Communication was tough. Our only complaint about the trip was our guides did almost nothing to bridge the gap. We are still not sure if this was the villagers preference, but it would have been nice to interact more. The village itself was a cluster of bamboo huts built in the dirt on stilts with a population of about 65 people. Aside from a few things carried in from town (no roads and the river is not large enough for boat travel) the village is self sufficient. They grow small crops, gather from the jungle, fish and raise pigs, buffalo and chickens for meat. There were also dogs everywhere…but we won’t go there. I looked pretty carefully at the meat being tenderized on the end of a log for dinner and decided it was too big to be anything but buffalo. Phonsat had me going for a while re the whole dog thing. The village children were laughing and playing all around us, village women bathing and doing laundry in the river and the men…not really sure what they do but they sure weren’t the busy ones. We wandered up into the heart of the village. One house seemed to be different from the rest. Perhaps it was the huge satellite dish? He was also the only guy acting hands on from what we could see; attending to the children and livestock in the only “yard” dividing their space from the rest with a fence and garden. We checked out the dish and it turns out he was generating power from just down the river where the water was faster and running a line on wooden poles up to his house. We assumed we were observing the village chief but it turns out he is just a city guy who married a village girl. You can take the guy out of the city but you can’t take the city out of the guy!

Our meals were served on banana leaves, sans utensils inside on a low table with little stools (about the size of one of my butt cheeks). We all shared out of communal bowls of soup, vegetable stew, meat and rice. Most of us found it really tasty, ignoring the lingering doubts about eating food prepared in conditions lacking our normal standards of hygiene, to say the least! Anna ate balls of sticky rice for two days. The real treat came the next morning. I woke up and wandered out of the hut to see Ron sitting by the outside fire which had a brewing pot and chicken feet sticking out of it. They had brought the whole thing down and plunked it into the pot, head and all. Unsatisfied with no lid, the cook brought down his machete and sawed off the feet while we watched so he could put the lid on. These two days I think was some of the best education we had had so far towards understanding a life about as far away from our life in North Vancouver as we could imagine. Sadie & Anna (I guess all of us) took it in stride, phew.

Back in Namtha we took a day to get back into homework, research our next destinations and do laundry. Namtha is a nice little town but it would be a stretch to stay longer than a day or so beyond of the trekking or kayaking activities. We booked a local bus ticket outa there firmly refusing to get in a min van again until I am driving my own back in North Vancouver.