Beung Khan and Ban Ahong

The following day, Nicole spent half an hour looking for bread and jam for breakfast but to no avail, so we had rice porridge (actually delicious). John was fretting because it was getting late (8.30) and we had 90 km to do before our next destination, Beung Khan. Beung Khan was another attractive, quiet town and we were lucky to find a nice chap who showed us a simple hotel in the high street. We had another "Chinese fondue" on the esplanade and the next day we indulged in toast, butter and jam AND rice porridge before setting off to Ban Ahong, only 25km away as John had a cold and was not feeling up to many km.

The lonely planet mentioned a guesthouse consisiting of huts in the village but when we found them they were derelict. But we did find the Wat, which is apparently the smallest in Isan and set amongst interesting boulders, where the Mekong forms whirlpools. And we also found some accommodation next to the temple for people on retreats: it had big rooms with carpet on the floor. A bit hard in the night but perfect for yoga in the morning! We walked through the quiet village for lunch and were entertained firstly by a cock fight that took place next to where we sat (the fight lasted about 20 min and was apparently a draw) and secondly by a very angry lady who set upon a chap (her husband?) who looked somewhat dazed. She whacked him with the flat of a chopper. He went off on his motorbike looking very sheepish with her in hot pursuit. The shopkeeper lady was giggling so we didn't get too worried but we'll never know what it was all about. We were very puzzled by these displays of violence and also by the apparent contradiciton in the men's excitement and urging their cockerels to fight one another and their gentleness in how they cared for their birds and how tame the cockerels were, one being carried off on a motorcycle cuddled in its owner's arms.
We carried on our walk and stopped at another little house/shop where we had pancakes, sweetcorn and coffee whilst trying to make conversation in Thai. Much amusement was had when a gecko fell from the thatched roof under which we were sitting and landed on John's head!

Cycling gently up the Mekong

Next morning, we found a Chinese restaurant where we ate a delicious stuffed omelette followed with toast and honey that Nicole had bought from a 7/11 (Thai small supermarket). The wind was still cold and blowing from the North but the road was pleasant enough and we now knew a few words in Thai. Cycled through Nakon Phanom which thankfully was flat (Nakhon Phanom means "City of hills") to arrive in Tha Uthen where we found a lovely little bungalow overlooking the Mekong (totally by chance as absolutely nothing was written in Roman script and we are still trying to work out the Thai script for guesthouse, hotel or accommodation or whatever word they use for "somewhere to sleep").

The owners cultivated the bank over the road beside the Mekong and our room, decorated with little painted stones and shells, had a little balcony with a view directly over the river and we watched flocks of white egrets fly past. Mrs Phenprapabuphsia, our host, invited us to supper with her family. It was all very friendly and when Mrs P's grand-mother saw our wrists with cotton bands (from the Baci ceremony in Ban Phonsim - for the intended effect, the strings must be kept for a minimum of 3 days, some people believe the strings should be allowed to naturally fall off, so we still have ours...), she rushed to get a phakhuan (sort of tiered vase decorated with flowers, folded banana leaves and branches with white cotton strings hanging down) and her and her husband tied another band of cotton on our writs with more chanting and blessings and wishes for a long life. How lovely!

We left Mrs P and her family early the next morning after a nice hot coffee and sad goodbyes. The road was pleasant, flatish, with little traffic and a crosswind. Whilst eating our fried rice lunch at one of the many make shift kitchen/restaurant by the road side, we were approached by 2 nurses who urged us to be careful and warned us against cycling in Laos (dangerous! many robbers! Don't go!). They looked at us with great pity and insisted in giving us some Ponstan (for menstruating pains (?!), antacid for indigestion but we managed to refuse Paracetamol when we showed them our own supplies!We arrived in Ban Phaeng by 1.30, cycled to the Mekong on a narrow bumpy road and found nothing much on the bank except a few stalls and a rustic immigration office (flanked by a couple of friendly but armed soldiers). Tuk-tuks were driving down the steep sandy embankment and across the sand flats to a few waiting boats. Tribal looking Lao women were bringing grasses for brooms and material for skirt to sell. We sat on a bench and had a noodle soup lunch between chatty laughing Lao women and a cockerel strutting along side us and we cycled back to our guesthouse for the night which read "Resort", clean, comfortable and with a hot shower but still only 6 pounds.

Back to Thailand

We spent another couple of days in Savannakhet, met briefly Matt, who was cycling around the world and who inspired us to do the same at some point (!). We later looked for him in town to ask him for his blog but failed to find him. Trying to find his blog on the net (unsuccessfully) we came across www.alastairhumphreys.com a most interesting blog of someone who spent 4 years cycling round the world. We also met Jean, a Frenchman living in London, who introduced us to Dr Vongpaseuth, a remarkable lady who spends much of her time educating local people to prevent the spread of AIDS (from construction workers on the various new highways projects which are incidentally funded by developped countries...)

On Tuesday 13th, we had a leisurely breakfast with Jean (he has fallen in love with Laos) who told us more about a project on unexploded ordinance and his trip to Malaysia and Sulawesi. As it turned out Jean was also an old gaffer sailor (he knew Newtown Creek) and after exchanging goodbyes and addresses,we left Savannakhet to cross the bridge over to Thailand. Another foiled plan! Apparently a new law (as from the previous day??) meant that arriving into Thailand by land we were only given a 2 weeks visa: not enough time to last us until our departure 2nd Feb. All this is to tax our brains I think!

Anyway, we knew we were back in Thailand, unfriendly traffic made worse by the fact that the road we were on (north of Mukdahan) was being enlarged and no more sabaidis! Nicole had a cold and was feeling grumpy, there was a freezing headwind, but the road eventually improved, we had a lovely lunch of fried rice and we found Sulami, a friendly lady who was selling coffee and taught us the Thai for beautiful: sooway and delicious: aloy. All the linguistic progress in Laos was not all in vain because some words are fortunately very similar. We arrived in That Phanom, which had an impressive 57m high chedi, whose spire is decorated with 110kg of gold! It was illuminated at night and was particularly resplendissant. There was a choice of guesthouse: an interesting Chinese wooden hotel (but ratty and buggy looking) or a concrete bunk type building (but clean and with hot shower). John kindly conceded to stay in the latter one and Nicole decided to have her first shower for 5 days... we hadn't had a hot shower since Don Khong, nearly 2 weeks ago!

Savannakhet

Savannakhet is a delightful place. It was founded in 1642 and during the French colonial period developed as a centre of administration and commerce in southern Laos. John felt at home there with its domestic scale buildings, leafy green streets and the old French colonial houses, some set in large open spaces. In fact he is wandering the streets right now, taking pictures and sketching...

We have been here for the last 5 days. Ueli, a Swiss man we met at our guesthouse inspired us to go on a 2 day trek organised by the Savannakhet Ecoguide Unit, whose goals atre "to contribute to poverty reduction and nature conservation".

So, early on Friday, we left our tandem in the friendly Provincial Tourism Office and set off with our guide, Sinatcom (we were allowed to call her by her nickname Nid later on), and after a long and cold ride on a tuk-tuk met our other guide, Sawda. We walked through Dong Natad forest, a mature forest with beautiful tall trees (the first we have seen in Laos), Sawda stopping from time to time to invite us to taste different leaves and berries, some delicious, others very strange, or show us how villagers collect oil from the Niang trees for lighting. However, we declined trying to taste ants (apparently they use them as condiment in cooking, formic acid giving a pleasant lemony taste to food). Sawda then told us the story of the sacred Nong Lom Lake while we sat and ate a Lao snack by its calm waters. However, apart from a small chameleon like little lizard and a bat we didn't see much wildlife. Sawda kept asking to borrow John's binoculars to look at aeroplanes and when we did hear birds and asked him what they were, the answer was always "sparrows"!

After another 15km through varied terrain and occasionally meeting fishermen, farmers or charcoal makers we arrived at the village of Ban Phonsim. By that time we were ravenous and quite tired. Our host, Mr Sounthong spoke perfect French and because he was born the same year as John, was delighted to call John "his friend". The mystery of why everybody in Asia seems to ask your age was revealed! Apparently you don't address people by their name but by the age relationship to you: if you are both born in the same year you are "friends", slight difference in years you are "brother" or "sister", "father " and "mother" are used if one of you could be the other's mother or father, and "uncle" or "aunt" if slightly younger than "father' or "mother". Now we understand! When in another village we were asked to present ourselves in Lao (taught by Nid), the villagers were especially delighted when we added how old we were, as this made it easier for them to address us "properly".

We really enjoyed our stay with Mr Sounthong and his family (he has 7 children and 14 grand-children!). They put on a Baci ceremony for us, where several bands of cotton were tied around our wrists by the many people present, while many blessings were wished for us - it was very moving, and coooked us delicious food. When bedtime came, Nid and Nicole slept under one mosquito net and John under another (which was quite fortunate as he had to get up 5 times to go to the loo - downstairs and across the street! - in the night). Apparently men and women, even married, are not allowed to sleep under the same mosquito net! So now we have another mystery to solve: how are so many children born?

The following day, we went to the Wat with Mr S and Nid and took our offerings of food to present to the monks. It was a "Buddha Day" (happens each quarter cycle of the moon) so many villagers (if not all) were present. After breakfast Mr S took us around the village and we saw many of the village crafts: weaving cotton, rush matting, coconut matting for roofs, bamboo fencing and indigo dying. We were then invited by a widow to a ceremony at her house in memory of a husband who died 3 years ago. The whole village was there. The women sat separately under a sun awning, eating what was a shared lunch. The men sat at tables in the sun drinking rounds of lao-lao. There weren't many long faces! It seemed an excuse to drink as many rounds as possible to the dead man. You did this by half drinking the glass offered and then pouring the remainder on the ground for the dead spirit. We were offered quite a few glasses which would have been rude to refuse!

The rest of the day was spent walking through rice paddies and lovely bamboo plantations, stopping on the way to pay respect to the ruins of Muang Kao, the site of the old city of Savannakhet. After saying our goodbyes to Mr S and his family Nid took us to That Inghang, built in 500 AD by King Sumitha Thammavongsa, a most sacred stupa containing relics of the Buddha and the venue for important Buddhist rites.

After spending 2 days with Nid we were very sad saying good-bye.

Down to the 4000 islands and North again

So, this is the first entry for 2009. The last 12 days and 500km have whizzed by...

We + tandem arrived in Don Khong (Don=island) by fast narrow boat on 31st January, booked in an attractive traditional teak house (V.Mala guesthouse) which was spotlessly clean and were invited (together with Timo and Eevje 2 friendly Dutch cyclists) by the owners to their New Year's party. We joined Vela, a gentille 60 year old lady, who, despite never having visited France, spoke perfect French, Valum, her shy younger sister, and Thanphilom(during the day)/Penny(at night), her nephew/niece who was the hotel manager. John never twigged he was a she (or she was a he?) and we called him Penny anyway as it was easier. It was our first experience of a boy/girl and it was surprising to see how relaxed and open the whole family about it. It just wasn't an issue.
We were given delicacies such as laap paa (minced fish), sticky rice and delicious lao salad, washed down by many beers and some lao-lao (strong fermented rice spirit) and we repeatedly

had to "tom achok" each other's glasses every time someone (usually Vela's husband who was a little drunk) took a gulp. By 8 o'clock, we were flagging, having cycled 80km, and retired to bed, declining to go dancing with Penny at the local(already noisy) karaoke and were sound asleep when the New Year made its entrance.

The first day of 2009 was spent agreably cycling around this peaceful little island and the following day we loaded the tandem on the fast narrow boat again and cycled down towards the smaller islands in the South Don Det and Don Khon. This was a complete disaster as John couldn't cope with the hoardes of backpackers who had invaded the islands to celebrate the New Year, laying in hammocks onthe beach, recovering from drinking too much lao-lao (which is made on the islands), not to mention the noisy and excitable Thai tourists who were bumping along in bus loads to see the waterfalls. Nicole liked the palm trees swaying gently inthe breeze and the delicious coconut shakes... We left early the following morning.

The next few days were spent cycling up the Mekong with slight headwind,staying in grubby guesthouses on the way,eating foe and more foe and shouting sabaidi to a multitude of excited happy children until we lost our voices. We met Timo and Eevje on the way again and stayed in Pakse for one night. The following morning we found we had a puncture, which delayed our early plans. We were however grateful we weren't by the side of a hot road!

The road towards Savannakhet was lovely and quiet. Perhaps a bit too quiet...guesthouses were in short supply: had to stay in a horrid noisy brothel (and it was expensive).Food, although good wasn't varied. The next day, we decided to push for Savannakhet (120km) as we didn't want another "guesthouse" like the previous one!

It was good to arrive in Savannakhet, literally "territory of gold", so named because of its fertile rice fields, which were especially beautiful as we cycled through them in the evening sun. The guesthouse we found was postitvely luxurious, although the shower was cold and the windows didn't open.

Village life

The village houses are made of wood, on stilts. They have no gardens, no fences, no locks and are very close to each other, so we saw many different faces coming and going. Children, dogs, chickens, pigs, all mix together. Most children do play but some seem to work from a very early age, doing the house hold chores, fetching and carying water, pushing carts, looking after siblings, tending animals. One woman and 2 boys (approx 7 and 10 years old) were working in the rice mill. The boys were carting the bags of rice from the mill on a motorbike, the 7 yr old smoking a cigarette and the 10 yr old driving the motorbike. We also saw 4 children making charcoal, the youngest was 3 the oldest 9).
Most homes have a satellite dish for the telvision but the rooms are unfurnished. You eat cross-legged on the floor, the meal is served on a raised tray. One evening meal, John flicked a beetle away from his plate. Judi (Mrs Tem's 3 yr old nephew was as quick as lightning: he picked it up and put it in his mouth! We deduced it was a delicacy...)
The bathroom was outside, a little brick box 4 feet x 4 feet x 6 feet high with 3 steps up. Inside, a squat loo with a concrete water tank at the side from you you laddled water to flush the loo or wash yourself. This bathroom was a luxury as some other villagers had to wash outside by the communal pump. All water had to be carried (2 pails on a yoke) mostly by children. None of the paths or roads were tarred, just dirt. Some people had a motorbike (250cc) which carried everything.
People usually got up around 5 o'clock, lit the charcoal fire to make the rice. The pace of life is slow or very slow and the children all seemed very happy and were adventurous and polite. People laid down to sleep in the afternoon and became active again when the sun began to go down. Just as we were ready to go to sleep they became very noisy, chatty and turned their music on!
In our particular village, which was unusual, the elephants would appear on the paths, being ridden by their mahouts. They lumbered along but could also go amazingly quickly, almost like a hovercraft, their bodies appearing to almost float.
The village is surrounded by rice paddies but there were no water buffaloes. We suspect the single cyclinder tractor they now used have done away with them.

Kiet Ngong and the elephants

We went to bed early... only to hear motorbikes after motorbikes congregating near our door... There must have been one hundred! Where had they come from? We found out it was the guesthouse owner's daughter's birthday. Much merriment went on for a good part of the night... In the morning we were just about to leave our friendly Kamphoui guesthouse when John met an American who was congratulating the owner about his daughter's birthday and generally chatting and joking in LAO! John was aghast with admiration at his linguistic skills. Apparently he had only come to Laos for the past 8 years one month at a time and he could speak fluently! This inspired on the spot John and he said he would learn French from now on (3 days later nothing remarkable has happened yet...)
We arrived in Kiet Ngong by 2 o'clock on Monday afternoon. The last 10km were uphill and on a dirt road so we were hot and dusty when we got there. After making enquiries about home stays, we were taken to the home of Mr Lai (who helps collect food for the elephants - they eat around 300kg of fodder a day) and Mrs Tem, a charming couple in their mid forties. Our Lao improved in leaps and bounds as Mrs Tem spoke no English and Mr Lai's repertoire was about as extensive as ours! We now know how to say elephant (sang), son (duksai) daughter(duksau) difficult (nia) and delicious(sep). However, the intonation is another matter... The washing arrangements were very primitive and we didn't manage to wash much of the dust away!
The next morning was a dream: up at 6, breakfast (rice) at 7 and off with Boit Hong (elephant) and Boy (mahout) up the path to the flat summit of Phou Asa, named after a 19th century hero-monk who fought against the Siamese. The ride was absolutely magical, lumbering along the path surrounded by semi tropical forest, the air still fresh after the night's rain and swarming with butterflies.
We are now in Don Khong an island in the middle of the Mekong. Too much to say and a poor internet connection but all is very well and we'll catch up when we are back near civilisation...