Let me take you on a journey...

Tomorrow we embark on the final journey of our south-east Asian backpacking adventure (not counting of course, the 2 aeroplanes we need to use to get to Australia!) and we are so excited to begin the next chapter of our year of discovery. It got me ol’ brainbox whizzing round though, reminiscing on the different ways we have traveled around this great spinny sphere we named Earth. We haven’t had a proper catch up since I told you about why I always lose at chess so I will start there, at the beginning of our journey to Laos. Grab a brew, a pizza or a kit-kat, and a cosy single-seater sofa because you’re about to hear a tale. 
Let me take you on a journey…

...It's always smiles on a minibus...usually...

The journey begins on a minibus. We had just been carried away from Thailand on a train and had gone through the drama of filling our visa application in. It’s a strange system really the visa making system. Some people pay lots of money, some pay a little bit, and some people don’t pay at all! It’s my understanding that Canada gets the worst deal, and I observed that the Russian girls in front of us got away scott-free! It’s how it would be if children were in charge of border control. “Russia is my BESTEST friend EVER and got me a ROBOT DOGGY for my birthday so they can come in for free. Canada only got me a balloon animal making set…so… a hundred pounds please…” Strange…

Anyway, once we had sorted the legalities we were ferried onto a minibus (no-one informs you ever of what’s going on or where we are going by the way, and this happens throughout Asia. We are just told; “Bus – get on.” And we sort of have to just do it! Seems to work though, so it’s all good! Mob mentality I think…). I was really digging my latest book so decided to spend the journey reading, and The Boy fell quickly into a slumber. Before we knew it we were in Laos! We didn’t feel the magic tingle as we passed over the boundary line or hear the fanfares or anything! But our biggest disappointment was when we realized that somewhere along the journey, we had CHANGED SIDES ON THE ROAD??! I would have loved to see how that worked! There must have been cars and buses all over the place, switching and swapping and swerving from left to right! I must pay more attention next time we change countries.

...At a night market in Vientiane...

Vientiane was wonderful. We enjoyed our first taste of western food in 2 months and scoffed baguettes left right and centre! After a few days, and after my tummy had decided to behave itself, (see last blog for details…) we ventured on to the town of Vang Vieng. A couple of days later it was The Boy’s birthday! We had planned to spend the day cycling to the lagoon and enjoying a picnic, (and birthday cake that I sneakily bought!) but alas, it was not to be…

We hired the bikes and began our journey. It was a boiling hot day and the sun scorched down on us as we cycled through the paddy fields. Laos has a very sad history in that it was involved in a secret war in the 60s-70s during America’s war with Vietnam. American planes dropped so many cluster bombs on it that it earned itself the sad title of ‘most bombed country in the world’. (See the bottom of the page for the link to an article if you would like to learn more) As a result, millions of bombies (not me trying to be ‘cute’, they are actually called bombies!) still hide in the countryside of Laos, waiting for an unsuspecting farmer or child to disturb them so they can continue to claim their victims long after the war has finished. Despite ongoing clean up operations, that have successfully removed thousands of bombies, many still remain, and this fact kind of freaked me out. As we cycled over the paddy fields, (in the designated path area, of course!) I was wondering how thoroughly the area had been checked for UXOs (unexploded ordinances). The idea was playing inside my brainbox, tickling the section that makes me worry, when all of a sudden…

…BANG!!!

I felt a rush of wind on my legs and my bike clatter to the side. Obviously my first thought was that I had ridden over a bombie and blown it up real bad. But then my brain woke up and said “Yeah, I don’t think you’d be functioning this well if that was the case. I’m fairly sure it would be more obvious…” Good old reassuring brain. So, I hadn’t disturbed a bombie, thankfully. But what on earth had happened?! I walked my bike over to The Boy who was waiting in a shady picnic benched area looking at me in shock. He said, “Your tyre just… exploded!” At this point I felt a bit guilty that I had glared at a nearby Lao man, thinking he had maybe thrown a banger at my bike, and tried to rectify it by giving him an apologetic smile. I looked down to see that The Boy was right. 

...The Boy likes to be naughty when
I try and take handsome photos
of him. Here is is being naughty
with all of his birthday presents..!

My rear tyre was completely blown apart. It was probably a combination of the heat and bumpy, rocky terrain that had caused it to give up the ghost. We decided that we had too far to go to walk to the lagoon and had our picnic there under the trees. Then we walked sheepishly back to the town and paid the price (50,000 kip) for a replacement tyre. We still had a fun day celebrating The Boy turning 28 though. We had a pizza and cake with candles, and played cards as the sun set. Beauty!

Vang Vieng also saw us tubing on the river. One of my favourite modes of transport! We lazily floated at 2mph throughout the entire day until the very last section, where we had to try and climb out of the river, at which point it became a wild, powerful, rapid flow. A couple of beers, a huge inner tube and uncontrollable laughter made it a bit of a hilarious (and dangerous) mission, desperately trying to wade towards the shore before you ended up in the next town along! Funny how the men are so helpful throwing ropes to bring you in when there’s a bar, yet at the end…none to be seen…mysterious!

The next stop on our adventure was a town called Luang Prabang. Again, we rented cycles and enjoyed exploring the cafes and markets. I decided Luang Prabang would be a good place to post all the parcels I had been building up for friends and family and we made our way to the local post office.

...Ruined the 'surprise' birthday
present for my Mum by forgetting
that I had been made to write
what was in the box...

Now, a long time ago, (in Thailand) I had spent several relaxing days forming shell creations to hang in various people’s houses. I had made one for my sister, one for the kids in my old class, and one for a gift to our friends for their wedding (spoiler alert guys, hope you read this after you open presents!) I also had to send a special gift home to my dear Mama, for her birthday, which was a rug, made by an Indian man. Add to this, various letters and trinkets for other friends I had been thinking of, and you end up with a whopping bill of around… 700,000 kip (£60)… Oh my word, The Boy was cross. But what could we do?! So we (I..) sent it! We moped around the rest of the day, promising we wouldn’t spend any more money, just living off rice until we got to Australia, and sleeping in local parks…

We traveled to Phonsavan a few days later, a small town with lots of information about the history of Laos and the secret war. We ate in a café with a bunch of bombs (as tall as a man!) standing up next to the tables, and bombies hanging on the wall. It was kind of chilling.

...Some of the jars...

The main attraction in Phonsavan though, is the Plain of Jars. It’s a bit like a Lao Stonehenge, and consists of acres of fields over many sites, scattered with stone jars of all sizes. There is a mystery surrounding the jars, with no-one really knowing their purpose. Some think they were water containers, some believe they were burial jars, wine containers, all sorts! The biggest was taller than The Boy and super huge! He had a fun time walking around like a historical documentary presenter, explaining to me what was going on.

It made me wonder how on earth they TRANSPORTED the jars! (Ahhh, see, there’s the link!) Elephants or spaceships probably. Or giant unicorns? No-one knows.

Our journey from Phonsavan to Paxse was one about which we do not speak. Except for right now when I relive it for you. And then we won’t ever speak of it again. The tuktuk was late to collect us from our guesthouse, resulting in us being the LAST passengers to board the bus. It was not as small as a minibus, but not a full size Daddy bus either. It was sort of a teenage bus, neither big nor small. Being the last to board meant that all the actual seats were taken. We thought they would maybe direct us to a second bus, as obviously we can’t fit on a bus when all the seats are taken! Nope! We were shown 2 pull-down makeshift seats right at the front (behind the driver and passenger). The seats had teeny backrests and no footwell, meaning we had to sit with our feet bent up in front of us, resting on the engine (boiling hot, needed a blanket to be able to rest on it). We sat like this for 16 hours. We weren’t the most unfortunate passengers however. An ancient woman in front of The Boy (who was actually sat ON the blanketed engine) had no backrest at all and twice, fell backwards in between his legs, onto his lap when she fell asleep! There were also two local men who stood behind our chairs. The entire time. So, shouldn’t complain really! Also, it has made a pretty good measuring stick by which we have compared every single journey since, making them all seem like a first class dream in comparison!

...Watching the driver pretend to fix the problem...

I must also mention the fact that, an hour in, we all had to pile off the bus and witnessed the driver examining the rear tyre as smoke plumes flooded out from under the bus. Comforting. Obviously we expected a new bus to arrive. Obviously, that aint happening! The driver poured water onto the rear axel (hisssssssssssss, crazy steam emerging) and piled us all on again. For the next 6 hours, I kept imagining us exploding into a crazy fireball as we hurtled around dangerous mountain passes into the path of oncoming vehicles.

As Paxse was just a stopover for us, the next day we jumped on another bus ready to complete our arduous journey to the 4,000 islands, a group of islands formed by the mighty Mekong as it widens and splits up along it’s journey to the ocean. After yesterday’s events, we were feeling positive (remember, how nothing will EVER be as dull and uncomfortable?) and jumped into our grown up seats with glee. We had obediently been taking our anti-malarials throughout our Lao journeys with no terrible side effects to be seen, and that morning was no different. However, today was the day The Boy’s tummy decided it was going to be a bit naughty and summoned an episode of serious nausea in him just as the bus set off. The heat and stuffy lack of fresh air worsened the situation, but just as he was pulling out a bag (to my alarm) to catch the nightmare, the bus came to a stop to let the first lot of people off. “Go, go, go!” I shouted and off he went to sort himself out. Fearing that the rest of the journey would be engulfed in an ocean of vomit, I thought it best to befriend my fellow passengers, in the hope that they wouldn’t actually hate us if The Boy did vomit en route. Luckily, the first people I turned to were some very friendly and heroic Candians who offered him a magical tablet that cures nausea and travel sickness! Within 30 minutes of The Boy reboarding the bus, he was all fine and dandy! 

...Laos' answer to overbooking?
Plastic chairs in the aisle..!

What Superheroes! They saved us all from a certain death via drowning in The Boy’s sick. It was a good job too because after he reboarded, the driver produced 4 or 5 plastic chairs to put in the aisle for the extra passengers to sit on. There was no way The Boy was getting off that bus once we began rolling again!

...Our Canadian heroes, Randi and Quinn...
(Quinn and George seen here sporting trendy
leaf watches)

After leaving the bus and faffing around with an ATM, we managed to get onto a boat that took us to one of the 4,000 islands, Don Khon. We settled into a guesthouse and the following day, hired bikes to visit the waterfalls that we had heard were spectacular. Imagine our surprise when, as we cycled along, we hear a friendly voice calling us over! 

It was the Canadian couple we met on the bus! Our superheroes! Randi and Quinn became firm friends fast, to the point where we actually moved in to the room next door to them and spent every waking moment in their presence! We werehonoured to meet their ‘Lao family’, a local family who they have been visiting for a few years, and had some really wonderful times all together.

...Before the combing...

One day we swam out to a sandbar in the Mekong and I spent a few hours with a comb and a ton of conditioner, trying to comb out the many dreadlocks that had accumulated in The Boy’s hair over the months, thanks to a combination of very curly hair and no brushing. The waterfalls, by the way, were indeed spectacular. We had a good laugh inagining the French, with their grand plans of using the Mekong to transport stuff up and down Lao, arriving to the waterfalls and gazing at them in dismay. “Zut Alors!” they might have said, as they scrumpled up their blueprints angrily. Back to the drawing board!

...The waterfalls...

SO there we have it. In Laos, we have traveled via bike, inner tube, bus, boat and of course, swimming.

I also did a fair bit of running, especially when I discovered the biggest spider I have ever seen, casually chilling in the corner of the room. Even the Lao man who owned the guesthouse wouldn’t go near it, which told me it was genuinely horrific.

4,000 islands was our final Lao destination, and after 9 wonderful days, (extended from 4 after meeting our new bezzies) we set off to discover Cambodia! 
But that’s for another time. Time is getting on and we all need a nice cup of tea and a little sleepy.

Robert Louis Stevenson once said:

“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go.

I travel for travel’s sake.

The great affair is to move.”

I don’t think Robert ever backpacked around South East Asia…

Love Hannan xxx

P.S. CLICK HERE to read about Laos and the secret war. CLICK HERE to find out how they are working towards a bombie-free country.

P.P.S. Also...THIS happened...and it's my favourite photo ever. EVER.

Why I never win at chess...

I’ve spent the afternoon in a café getting thrashed at chess. Just when I thought I was about to pull out a nifty move, The Boy would throw a curve ball in the form of a new rule...

“Oh, I forgot to tell you my little character can still fight and kill YOUR little guy even though yours moved TWO spaces and is actually next door to my little guy …”

…or…

“Oh yes, I forgot to say that the king can shout over to the castle who will just hop over right next to him so he can switch squares if the castle hasn’t left his home already…”

…not forgetting…

“OK, so if I get my little pawn guy to the end of the board I can switcheroo the queen back into the game….”

We are in Laos, in a town called Vientiane. We only arrived from Thailand yesterday. It’s super French here and I adore it. There are cafés everywhere with actual French bread and croissants and the one we have been chess-ing in serves red wine at a decent price, so I am a very happy Hannan today.

To be good at chess you need to be able to predict what the other person is going to do…in like, 5 moves time, and block them. I find this tricky. I tend to predict that The Boy will DEFINITELY move his horse head over there to protect his pointy bishop and so I put everything in place ready to deal with this situation. However, then he goes right ahead and smashes my castle into oblivion with one of his little guys! Or does one of the naughty tricky moves mentioned above, and catches me off guard. Every time!

Me playing chess is very similar to me as a traveler, (and as a person actually!) in that I always predict what I think is going to happen. I’m always COMPLETELY sure that it will be a certain way, POSITIVE I will feel or experience something like this or that and put my guard up (or down) accordingly. However, as with chess (and life), things are very rarely as I expect them to be. Here are a few tales of things that have gone a lot better (and worse) than my predictions as we adventured through India and Thailand…

...The Ganges at dusk...

We had such a great time journeying round India. We visited temples, let wild monkeys climb all over us, visited an elephant in an elephant sanctuary and painted on his wrinkly old side before scrubbing him clean in the bath. We ate amazing food, discovered new dishes and even ate home cooked food in a local woman's house. We chased kites and flew them from the rooftop of our hotel during the kite festival in Jaipur, and witnessed cremations on the Ganges as the sun went down. It was really so magical, the whole experience.

...Mother Earth gently looking
out over the Ganges...

In preparing for India, many people, blogs and articles I read told me to ‘prepare for a SENSORY OVERLOAD’ and ‘India is the LOUDEST and BRIGHTEST country in the world’ and ‘NOTHING can prepare you for visiting here!!!’ It scared me a bit. But it kind of turned out to be true. I was prepared for all of the stuff I was warned about, the loud streets, constant horn honking, overpowering sights, smells, sounds… But what I wasn’t prepared for was how COLD it was! I knew that January was winter in India, as in England, but really…come on…it’s INDIA. It might be winter but it’s at least a ‘vest in the daytime and a jumper at night’ kind of winter…right? 

...A cold day at the Taj Mahal...

Nope. I was freezing. For the best part of 2 weeks. In Agra, Varanasi and Khujaraho I wore 4 layers even in the day (and pyjamas under my jeans and 2 pairs of socks). 
I had brought one jumper and one pair of trousers. I was so wrong in my prediction of winter in North India. Finally, we decided we were tired of being cold and flew to our next destination… THAILAND!

After being so cold in India I was so excited to feel the blast of hot air on my face as we stepped out of Bangkok airport the following morning. 

...The view from our balcony...

We checked into a hotel on Khao San Road, (a travelers microuniverse all on one road) with a balcony overlooking the street. There was a stall playing music very loudly right outside the window, and the hubbub of bars, shops and people streamed through the nonexistent windows around the top of our room. It was noisy, but I predicted that by the evening the stall owner would have packed up and gone home and the only noise would be merriment of people in bars that played music at a normal level. We could cope with merriment and music at a reasonable level…

...In the street outside our hotel
(It was still 'merriment' at this point...)

Then, the night rolled around. And I have never in my life been subjected to such a cacophony of clamor as I did that night. Does sound rise..?? It seemed to. As I stood on the balcony looking at the rabble below (not merry-makers anymore, it’s 3am, they are officially a rabble now) I tried to make out any of the 4, 5, 6 songs being blasted at extreme decibels from the many bars below. At one point I think I heard “I will survive”, which I took strength from, hoping it was a sign from God that you can’t die from ‘loud music’. I shouted to The Boy, who was sat RIGHT NEXT TO ME and told him I was going to try and sleep. He didn’t hear me. I had to tap him and mouth the words to him. That evening did not go as predicted... 

I felt a fool actually because someone had actually tried to warn us by scrawling on the wall of the room:

...Note the sexy glass...

...Note the sleepy eyes...

“If you want to sleep, 

DO NOT STAY IN THIS ROOM!!!”

I had laughed it off earlier in the day, “ahh, the foolishness of a ‘newbie’ traveler. Obviously not used to hard springy mattresses and bugs climbing in your nose as you sleep!” Turned out I was the fool after all.

As with India, I spent some time researching Thailand and had stocked up on all my medical supplies before leaving the UK. This included DEET as I had read that mosquitos will bite me to tiny pieces and make cocktails out of my blood if I don’t protect myself! I was prepared for this and predicted one or two bites over my time in Thailand. However… I awoke the next morning, having slept very little (remember the cacophony?) to feet the size of rugby balls with approximately 150 (yes I counted) bites covering them. 

...The remains of the Mozzie Feast of 2015...

It was terrifying. Was it one gluttonous creature that found the motherlode in my tootsies? Or had one guy got his fill then called his entire family (and their neighbours) to join the feast? Who knows? All I do know is the itching was UNBEARABLE for about 10 days and the swelling of my feet made the whole drama seem so much worse.

We found a new room to sleep in away from the street for the next few nights and had a good time in Bangkok. Then, having had our fill of city life, we traveled south via bus, to a more beachy scene, arriving in Tonsai bay, Railey the next morning. 

Railey is my most favourtie place out of the places we visited in Thailand, particularly Tonsai, a quieter bay, accessible from Railey via a rocky jungle path.

...Our incredible view from Tonsai beach...

Beachy accommodation falls into one of two categories generally; posh hotel room with access to a pool, or… bungalows! Bungalows are bamboo huts with palm leaf roofs, usually with a cold water shower and toilets (minus flush).

...The view from Railey beach...

Being on a budget (and with adventure deep in our souls) we opted for bungalows mostly. The moment I stepped inside I predicted I was going to struggle. You can imagine exactly how I felt about the idea of being in a hut that was open at the roof to the surrounding jungle. A hut that is also open from below by gaps between the floorboards, and on the balcony had a spider web so thick I was worried I’d get trapped in it.

(If you can't imagine why, you  need to click HERE to read my blog about fears!!)

...Me, on the balcony of our hut, probably not even
thinking about spiders and snakes..!

I predicted seeing many horrors and hating every last minute. However, I was totally wrong. I saw not one spider (though plenty of lizards!) and the use of a mozzie net at night meant I could sleep soundly knowing nothing could crawl into my mouth or hair as I slept.

...Our hut in Phra Thong...

A week or two later, on the island of Phra Thong, I realized my hut in Railey had lulled me into a false sense of security. I boldly strode into our bathroom (night time, dark, no electricity, tiny beam of torchlight) and shone upon a spider the size of a tarantula casually waiting by the toilet.

I freaked.

After that I predicted that the spiders were out to get me (again, if you’ve read my blog called ‘Spideyphobia’ you will completely know where I’m coming from!) and made The Boy check everything before I put it on, sat on it, picked it up, looked at it, thought about it… I could tell he was growing weary of this. The last morning, as I prepared to pack my backpack, I timidly asked The Boy to check the side pocket, as it had been unzipped, open to the dangers of nature for a few days and anything could be lying in wait for me. He sighed and began rummaging through it.

Suddenly, he pulled his hand back and hollered, “SPIDER!” I thought at first it was a feeble trick to highlight how unlikely it would be that a spider HAD actually crawled into my backpack to spook me. But a spider HAD actually climbed INTO my backpack! The same huge tarantula sized monster that was hanging round our toilet!

The Boy shook the spider away, flinging it down between the slats of the floor onto the sand below and I stood, confused and saddened by the fact that my prediction had been accurate.

Sadly, this wasn’t the only time I was correct in my predictions of terror. 

...Beautiful Ko Lanta...

While staying on the island of Ko Lanta, we decided to rent a moped and cruise around the island in style, exploring the various beaches and restaurants it had to offer. 

I predicted terrible injury and gravel scraped into our skin as we tumbled onto the asphalt, but The Boy once had a moped as a teenager and confidently zoomed about, with me on the back, trying to feel brave and gripping on for dear life. When it was my turn, I nervously accelerated down the straight road, and found it was actually quite easy! Accelerate to go, brake to stop. Simple! Then… we came to a bend in the road. I tried turning the handles but we kept going straight. Straight into the path of an oncoming moped! I freaked and tried to brake, putting my flip-flopped feet down onto the road to stop myself as if I was riding a pedal bicycle. But this was a bit faster than a pedal bicycle and by the time the brakes had stopped us, a foot away from this confused and agitated mopedder, my big toe was smushed into pulp and I hobbled away, shaking and embarrassed, to assess the damage.

...The 'damage'..

Turns out it wasn’t actually that bad once I’d cleaned it up, but it WAS an injury and it WAS gravel scraped inside my skin. And it WAS the last time I drove a moped.

There were many other times when my predictions of terror were proved wrong however, like the time I finally had a go putting my face in the water using a snorkel mask (again, read ‘A Hannan went to sea sea sea’ for a clearer understanding of THAT particular hurdle!) I discovered that the water won’t actually get in my nose, and it was really rather beautiful to see the fish families that were swimming on the ocean floor.

There were also times when I predicted a perfectly normal occasion and it turned out a bit terrifying. Like when The Boy, Crazy Meg, Crazy Tom and I were walking along the beach to a restaurant and we got to a shallow ‘river’ on the sand, that led from the sea away across the island. It was pitch black night time, (another reason to read my earlier blogs, this time the one about fear of the dark! This will all make sense!) and I was using the teeny-weeny beam of a teeny-weeny torch to stop myself having terrible nightmares as we walked along. Meg and Tom had started crossing the shallow river and I shone my torch in to check there weren’t rocks in my way when I spotted…

…a SNAKE.

Just chilling in the water, sliding along, having a wonderful night time adventure. 

...Me and Crazy Meg, not worrying about random
sea snakes...

Obviously I screamed “SNAAAAAAKE!” and this caused Meg (who hates snakes) to cause a real splashy scene as she tried to run out of the water in a panic. 

I imagine it was like in a dream when you can’t run as fast as you would like to, to escape the terrible monster. The snake wasn’t moving and had no intention of attacking anyone that evening but it was still a bit of a drama trying to get across the river, each of us imagining that the moment we entered the water it would stream towards us and bite our feet away. This unnerved me because when one is walking along a beach in the shallow sea, one does not predict a snake will be sitting waiting for you. Is nowhere safe??!

...Juice in Ko Lanta, back when I
made good choices about tap
water and ice...

My final tale is a tale of sickness. Since day one I have been waiting and waiting for the dreaded “Delhi belly” to loom upon me. I have read statistics that state that 80% of travelers get sickness within 30 days of traveling in India, Thailand etc. so obviously, being Hannan, I predicted I would get it, probably 6 times, probably in every country I visit, probably at the least convenient times like on a plane, train, night bus… Imagine my surprise when after 2 weeks in India, I was feeling as bright as a button, and imagine my further surprise, (and of course sadness) when The Boy has a terrible night of sickness in Railey while I am still fit as a fiddle?! After 30 days of traveling I decided I was ‘out of the woods’ in terms of sickness. I had escaped Delhi Belly and I was proud. But Delhi Belly had been stalking me throughout India… peeping from the shadows…creeping along behind me as I adventured through Thailand…waiting for me to make that one…crucial…mistake… and drink the tap water…

Which I did. Yesterday. On my first day in Laos. In a delightful fruit smoothie shop. It looked so clean and fresh when the waitress brought it and I thought “Well! I’ve been OK so far…” And that was the moment Delhi Belly popped up and said;

“I knew you’d slip up. Bet you didn’t predict this.”

And I didn’t!

Love Hannan xxxxx

...View from our Ko Lanta room at sunset...

...The Boy and Crazy Tom in Phra Thong, playing 'beach ball' while clearly NOT at the beach. Rebels...!