Beetles

Lonely Beach is another one of those places where people seem to settle for weeks or months at a time. It is mellow but with plenty of social life. A beautiful long, white, beach with warm inviting water.

The Treehouse is the center of activity and relaxation. It is a wooden deck hovering over the surf, peppered with shady thatch huts lined with fresh greenery, pillows, floor tables, and hammocks. They have the tastiest food, yet still so cheap you say "Really? That's it?". They have a rainbow of stylish lamps that hang all around, and some great mellow live music, and DJ's that play later into the night for those like me who love to throw down on the dance floor. One tends to see the same cast of characters there day after day. Many of them are semi-permanent fixtures.

You have to wonder how some of these people finance their beach combing, hammock laying lifestyles. Many people, of course, go back home, save money, and come back. But some never seem to go "home".

Only so many people can write for Lonely Planet... and do they even get paid? One evening at The Treehouse I met a German gentleman who took the cake for travel finance creativity.

He collects beetles.

Apparently, if you know what you're looking for, there are many universities, museums, and collectors who actually pay pretty decent money for exotic beetle specimens. And probably other flora and fauna as well. But this guy was all about beetles.

I asked him if he only collected them here in Thailand. He said "Oh no, no! Africa is zee best." I said, by "zee best" do you mean they pay the most? He nodded enthusiastically.

And thus a dream career is born.. and probably many other jobs you would never even thing exist, that are just waiting for willing workers who never actually need to go home.

I don't think I will be one of these people. I like my home too much. But what an eye opener.

Sadly, I left the beach today to start my journey back to Bangkok and then on to San Francisco for one week. I will miss Thailand and will almost surely return. But two months was enough time here. Any less wouldn't have been enough.

SF here I come!

Adventure

Armed with some of the minor successes I have had along the way, I just today concluded my greatest travel success to date.

While on the airplane coming back from Hong Kong to Bangkok, somewhere mid way through the flight, I changed course. I had planned to go back to my beloved Thong Nai Pan beach where I began my journey. But I started to reconsider. I have been there already. I know it will be beautiful and relaxing. But I opt for something new. Ko Chang was another island I planned to visit from the beginning if I had time. And my friend Ian had recommended Lonely Beach. I re-read the guide book and was convinced... mainly hooked by the comments about "Burning Man" vibe and "fire spinning". Woo hoo! Let's go.

Trouble is... I had no idea how to get there from the airport and I did not want to waste another day sitting in Bangkok figuring it out. No. I needed to somehow make it to Ko Chang right now, tonight. Furthermore, I was determined, for the hell of it, to do it via public transportation only. No expensive taxis. No tourist packages or travel agencies. Worst case, I would fail and find a guesthouse in Bangkok somewhere.

I found the free shuttle bus from the airport to the public transit terminal a couple miles away. This is absolutely something Bangkok Airport seems to make intentionally difficult. You have to walk by tons of touts trying to herd you on to their tourist VIP busses, and waive off taxi offers. Only after asking several workers did i find the shuttle bus stop. The sign for it is all in Thai, no English like there is on every other sign. I wait sort of uncertain for the shuttle, not sure what it looks like. Lots of buses stop here. I get on one that says "Shuttle" and cross my fingers. I ride around the airport campus picking up nothing but Thai airport workers. Stop after stop. I am the only non Thai on a completely packed bus. Still crossed. Eventually, we get to the bus depot. Awesome! And a new world opens up. Cheap transportation, even to Khao San Road (for about 1/5 the price from the airport curb), for those farang lucky enough to make it this far.

But I don't want to go there. I want to go to Trat, near the Cambodia border (a 5 1/2 hour drive). I am looking for a schedule of buses here - the first place on my list to stop since they have a chance of knowing the schedule. My guide book says the the bus really leaves from the Eastern Station. So I figured I could make my decision here whether to go to the other station or find a guest house. No luck though. They don't have a schedule or don't understand me. They tell me "last bus [from here] 6:45 "finished! try tomorrow". I still think that maybe there is another schedule from the other station and so I decide to go there. Determined. This bus station can get me to the Skytrain station for under $1 (in an A/C bus no less)where I can take the Skytrain to the bus station, also for under $1.

I mosey into the bus station around 10 pm and find that there is, in fact, a midnight bus to Trat. No way! I have two hours to find some dinner and I'll be there by morning. Ehhhhhhxcelent.

I eat dinner at Vientiane Kitchen, a fitting choice for my return from Hong Kong, seeing that Vientiane, Laos was the last town I stayed in before going to Hong Kong. Nice place, good food, live Lao guitar music, Beer Lao and fried chicken... fuel for my journey. I also pick up some water and peanut M&M's (mmm).

The bus is supposed to get to Trat at 5am and the first ferry to Ko Chang is at 6am. The bus actually gets to Trat at 4:10am. Ugh. I take a sawngthaw to the ferry town which is actually 20 km away, so get there 5ish anyway. I buy my ferry ticket and I'm on Ko Chang right at sunrise, where I take another sawngthaw to Lonely Beach and seek out my new beach home.. a cheap and basic, but stylish bungalow, right on the Gulf of Thailand...

...and then I crash out asleep. Victorious.

Kong

I arrive at Macau International airport around 4 pm and zoom right through immigration into the relatively small lobby. Befitting a proper American, I had never even heard of Macau until I made the airline reservations. Apparently, it's been around for awhile. Similar to Hong Kong, and only a forty minute ferry ride away, it is a special trade zone, originally settled by Portugese, way back in the day. Now it is home to a strip of casino's exported directly from Vegas, including The Venetian and MGM Grand.

I'm not sure why I thought it would be sunny and humid in Hong Kong. It isn't. It's San Francisco weather, basically. It feels kind of good. I have directions to Lilian's apartment in Discovery Bay, a highrise suburb on an island just off Hong Kong. But she won't be around until later, so I decide to stash my pack in a luggage locker and start exploring the city straight away.

I decide that it's happy hour and a nice pub full of folks happy to be off work would be a fun place to wait. So I start my search for the perfect pub. I quickly notice a few things. First, folks in central Hong Kong are extremely cosmopolitan. Well dressed, good looking. It reminds me of Sydney in that way. I begin to realize that I might resemble a homeless person to these folks in my current state. Second, they have this cool system of elevated walkways that keeps you off the street entirely and unencumbered by intersections, car traffic, and the like. It also gave me a bird's eye view. Third, there are as many caucasians here in the central district as there are Asians in San Francisco. Kind of surreal.

Using my expert urban bar sniffing skills, I looked for some older brick office buildings in the midst of the glass and steel. A neighborhood with buildings like this might offer up some charming historic spots.

Wandering through town I kept thinking to myself "Hong Kong is cool, man". It is clean, stylish, charming, the air is good, and it seems almost completely free of chaos. At every turn, the place just works very well. They have it together.



Through a mixture of left and right turn decisions, along with paying attention to the direction certain folks are walking, I land in Lan Kwai Fong, the North Beach of Hong Kong. I plop down for a happy hour cocktail. Lilian later proclaims this a super human feat of novice navigation in the city.

At some point I realize that I have somehow screwed up the time on my mobile phone and that it is a couple hours later than I think it is. Oops. Lilian is already home wondering where I am. I ferry out to DBay and have a nice, albeit it late night meal, and meet her pug, Lola, a snorty little bundle of cuteness.

I am delighted to do some laundry so that I have something, anything, that doesn't smell.... have a good hot shower, and to have access to (trumpets sound) free and fast Internet. I am in heaven.

Recovery

I got an invitation from Lilian, my dear friend living in Hong Kong, to come for a visit. From the beginning, I wanted to fit in a visit with her on my trip somehow, but I was concerned about timing and the expense of an airplane ticket. After spending days and days sick and lonely, I was reminded of the importance of good friends, and figured out that the plane ticket, although not super cheap, would be mostly offset by the fact that I would not have to pay for accommodations for a few days, and that she would fatten me back up with some home cooking. That, combined with the fact that Hong Kong is very much a city I would like to visit, made it sound like a great excuse to go. So I decided to buy a ticket.

It wasn't quite so easy to do from Laos. I tried to buy the ticket on the airasia.com website, but for some reason, it wouldn't accept either one of my Visa cards. Declined, with no further information. I tried everything I could think of... over and over again. Ugh.

The only solution I could think of besides using someone else's credit card was to try and call Air Asia - not such an easy prospect since there are no phone lines that connect Laos to many other countries, and I didn't have a normal phone available anyway. The main methods most people use to make international phone calls from the road these days are either to use their mobile phones (I didn't have a Laos SIM card) or to use Internet cafe phones which use the Internet to make phone calls, however that works.

I decided to try an Internet call. I had never tried this before. The cafe I had been using for email had a little phone booth room from which you could dial any international number for about $.30 per minute. I knew calling an airline could take awhile. But it was my only option.

I dialed the number the website offered for calls from Thailand. The system answered and jibbered something in Thai, then said, "for English, press 2". So I pressed 2. Then it jibbered something else and said again, "for English, press 2". Over and over again. I could hear the 2 touch tone, but it couldn't. Crap. I paid for my one minute call and decided to try a different phone in a different cafe. Buying this ticket has now become an all-day affair.

I found another "reasonably" priced cafe manned by a single ten year old girl. You see, there was a traditional town-wide party going on this day. An affair that involved every family in town opening their homes to every other family.. to share noodle soup and to drink Lao Lao whiskey and Beer Lao all day long.. from morning until late in the evening. So by mid day... most adults in town were too drunk to run a business. So the kids were running the show in most places.

Under pre-teen supervision, I managed to call the same number from their phone and the system answered. The girl heard the message and seemed to think the automated system was an answering machine and hung up the phone, I guess as a "favor" to me so I wouldn't have to pay. I said "No no! It was working!"... and I dialed the number again. This time I got some kind of Internet error message. She proclaimed the mission failed and motioned for me to give up and leave her domain. I dialed again, despite her, and this time the system picked up again. Before she could slam her finger on the hook again, I body blocked her and assured her that everything was fine and that she should go back to watching the store. The 2 button seemed to work this time, and so I waited with Thai hold music for someone to come on the line. The girl watched me like I was crazy for just sitting there burning $.30 a minute on an answering machine. When the rep finally came on the line, I struggled to switch the phone off speaker and to try and communicate. This was no easy task. There was no booth in this cafe which was wide open to the street with motor bikes zooming by constantly.. the line was a bit flaky so bits of speech would cut out entirely... and, to boot, the woman on the line had an accent so thick, I could just barely understand her. I was terribly concerned about getting the reservation both finished and accurate. Somehow after about fifteen minutes, I was very releived to have a confirmation number from the very patient woman on the other end of the Internet. I paid the sovereign tot $6, and went on my way, relieved to have my one five-minute task for the day completed around sunset.

I had a nice dinner with Chrisi and readied myself for another big travel day. First, to Vientiane, the capitol... and then on to Bangkok where I would catch my plane to Hong Kong.

That morning, I had moved from the Riverside cabin where the nights were just too loud. I moved to a place in town, next to a Buddhist wat (temple). Unfortunately, because of the town party, the wat was now the new party central. And they apparently had a pass to party well past the normal midnight curfew. They went all night long. And volume knobs on their sound system went to 11. Bless them.

The next day we checked out and took a chicken bus to Vientiane. Backpackers call public busses in developing countries "chicken busses" because frequently town folk will strap all manner of agricultural commodities to the bus along with as many people as can humanly fit on the rickety vehicles. Usually it's good for some stories at least.

Ours wasn't too bad.. but there was a whole motorcycle bungied in the aisle and there were folks sitting on huge bags of rice for the lion's share of the trip. At some point, a thirteen year old Buddhist monk named Ken got on and was delighted to practice his English with us. The ride was long but got us there.

We found a room for three along with another German fellow we met on the bus and had some dinner on the Mekong river shore. I tried some Nam Khao, a Lao dish that is a specialty of the town. Not only was it pretty good, it represented the first meal in almost a week that I was able to finish because my stomach has been in knots.

I was now officially ready for my long train ride to Bangkok, and to be fattened up in Hong Kong.. which will be a far cry from the rural Laos living I have been immersed in. Chrisi is headed for Vietnam.

Luxury living, here I come... at least for five days.

Mountains

Vang Vieng is a little town in the Northern Laos mountains up a three hour windy highway trip from Vientienne, the capitol. Towering over the town are enormous, breathtaking, limestone mountains - jutting straight out of the flat farmland and layered behind one other in what creates a misty greyscale of depth perception as the perpetually hazy skies make each mountain disappear to varying degrees behind one another.

The town is a jumping off point for a variety of activities like hiking, biking, kayaking, river tubing, and cave exploring. It is also a spot where many western youth plop down and get lazy for days or weeks at a time. The town is infamous for its TV bars. Salons of laziness where you can sit around on pillows, eat Western and Asian food, and watch episode after episode of some popular programs, most commonly Friends. But with some Family Guy and Simpsons scattered around as well. It's something the guide books love to take jabs at, but certainly a popular past time in town.

I landed here mid day after a marathon journey, and walked down toward the Nam Song river to see if I could find some nice waterfront digs on which to hang my hammock. I came to the Riverside Bungalows, a green and peaceful grounds right along the river.. and they had a very nice cabin waiting for me.

As I was checking in, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and it was Inigo, a very pleasant Spaniard I had met in Pai, Thailand. When I saw him there, he had just been recovering from being quite sick and so was moving kind of slow. But now he was well rested and in much better shape. He'd been relaxing here already for a few days. He and I are the same age, so share the experience of being with mostly much younger folks on the backpacker circuit - which can make things quite fun... but sometimes the younger folks over do it a bit with their fun. We had a nice dinner that evening after the younger folks he was travelling with turned out to be too drunk to get themselves together to make the plans he had with them. Dinner at the Japanese-owned pizza restaurant was good, but I was sorry to hear they were all leaving the next day.

Before dinner, I was feeling weak and my body ached - I thought from all the travelling and lack of food... After dinner I felt a little better, but also felt like I had better head to bed or else I might come down with something.

No luck. I got sick anyway.... Really sick. I spent about the next four days doing little more than trying to get better. I suffered a sequence of symptoms each night, from horrid bathroom trips (luckily I had my own bathroom), to freezing chills while wearing layer upon layer of clothes, to sweating all the way through multiple sets of clothes in one night, to, one night, barfing up what little I was able to choke down the entire day. I was starving (but not hungry), lonely, and sad. But still having a pleasant enough time riding it out in my hammock and making some substantial progress with the book I brought along.

It occured to me more than once that I could have some kind of jungle plague like Malaria or Dengue Fever or Cholera. But the symptoms for these are the same as the symptoms for more innocuous, and far more common problems like Traveller's D and other simple bacterial infections that affect most Westerners out here in the sticks. I put myself on some antibiotics that my travel clinic recommended.

One thing I hadn't realized when I moved into The Riverside was that it was directly across the river from the Smile Bar - party central for the town. Thump Thump, Oonch Oonch.. every night. I am a city boy, and so I am accustomed to hearing noise and music while at home. But what added insult to injury for me was hearing the music and hoots and laughter... precisely what I had come to the town to enjoy after the too-quiet-for-me Don Det stay. And I couldn't. I had to lay in bed listening to ecstatic hoots and kick ass DJ sessions while trying desperately not to barf up the pills that might get me better.

After four days of that, I was finally able to eat again and venture out. Also, my friend Chrisi got to town so I had a travel partner again. Things are looking up.

We rented a motorbike to take a trip up the highway out of town to do some exploring. I haven't ridden a motorbike since Monica and I were in Tahiti last year. I was a little bit nervous to ride the thing myself, much less put someone else on the back with me and ride on the highway. I could tell that "Mom" from the mom and pop place I rented the bike from winced a bit as I asked her how to operate the bike and then wobbled away from her store, trying to figure out where to put my feet and how to shift. But after a few minutes of riding around town, I felt ready for the highway. Maybe ready is a strong word. But I don't have a better one.

Chrisi and I rode up Highway 13 about thirty minutes north to a bumpy little dirt road that the guide books promised would take us to the Tham Sang Triangle, a group of limestone caves that sounded interesting. The countryside along the way was truly beautiful and only made more enjoyable on the bike with the wind our hair. As soon as you leave town, you start to feel what Laos is really like. The homes on the side of the road, mostly very modest hand built bungalows. People going about their daily chores, whether domestic, agricultural, or marketing goods (not much else) in their characteristically Laotian leisurely way. It occurred to me that this is it. This is the most major highway in Laos and this is the extent of hustle and bustle throughout most of the country. It really underscored for me what normal life is like here. Not just in the deep South. Not just in the far rural areas.. but in most of the country. I began to really feel what it was like to be Lao. Their lives are so easy to watch. So much of it is played out in public spaces. Some homes don't even have walls, just a roof.

As I rode down the bumpy rocky path, quite a feat I must say, considering my lack of experience, we exited Real Laos and re-entered Tourist Laos. I heard someone say once that, while in Southeast Asia, he felt like he wore a suit with wads of money hanging off, and people would come by and pick bills off one by one.. plink! plink! plink! As we rode up, we saw a sign indicating that motorbike parking was 5000 Kip ($.50) .. plink! Then we walked over the bamboo bridge to a little desk at the end with a woman collecting the bridge crossing fee, 5000 Kip each.... plink! plink! We walked up to the first cave and were met by a little old man from the town wearing an old khaki army shirt. He led us around several caves, rented us some head lamps (plink!) and led us deep into the caves, into spaces I would never have ventured without him. I couldn't help imagining what it must have been like thirty years ago when people that looked like me were creating havoc in this area.. and that he was surely around for that. I wondered if these caves were used strategically during that time. His English wasn't really good enough to ask him that. But his singing voice was lovely. After some encouragement from us, he sang Lao songs while we sat as his audience. Quite beautiful and haunting in such a dark place with such great acoustics.

After the tour, as we expected, he asked for a less than modest tour fee. He should have told us the fee beforehand, and we should have asked. PLINK! On the ride home, our bike suffered a flat tire on the highway just as it was getting dark and we were still ten minutes or so from town. Uh oh. We plip-plopped on the bike for a few minutes down the highway until I found a home that doubled as a motorbike fix it shop. They were closed, however. Knowing that there is little division between home and business life, we sheepishly knocked and asked if they could help, which they did without even blinking. It was Lao friendliness that got us home that night.

This plink is on me... I tipped them 50%.

Onward

A multi vehicle journey to my next destination Vientienne, the capital of Laos. I head over to the beach for a tiny boat to the mainland where a big mini van is waiting to take me along with eight others to Pakse where I will await my night bus to Vientienne. It's a long journey, about 17 hours, including the layover in Pakse.

I remember Pakse from my first entry into Laos. I remember that there wasn't much to do so why not just blow right through. I actually am really more interested in making it to the next town beyond Vientienne, Vang Vieng which should have lots of activities and people to hang out with. But the plan is to spend a night in Vientienne and see the sights there first.

While waiting for the bus there, however, I meet Terry, a French Canadian from Quebec. He assures me while riding the bus that the "sights" in Vientienne are not very exciting, there is not much to do, and that I might consider pushing straight on through to Vang Vieng. I can't make up my mind, so I do the only logical thing. Sleep on it.

As is usual on overnight "VIP" busses, you tend to be awoken by the bus lights suddenly coming on at 6am, and in this case some loud Lao music videos coming suddenly onto all the TV screens. They pass out some wet wipes and, bam, we're here! Everyone off!

Presented with the usual shouts from taxi drivers of "Where you go! Where you go!?". I must decide: Where I go?

Realizing that I have somewhere around three weeks left in my Asia trip, I decide that luke warm sights are maybe not worth one of those precious days, so I follow Terry onto a sawngthaw to the Northern Bus Station to see about a marathon morning bus to Vang Vieng, about another two to three hours ahead.

The VIP bus for the morning is sold out, so we buy 7:30 am tickets on the public bus.

I'm not too sure about these public buses. Not sure how public they are that is. There was talk that they are actually privately owned by families who get the routes and then do their best to fill the busses. I learned this along the way, of course. I foolishly thought the bus would just take us to Vang Vieng. When really what it does is slow down like the ice cream man anywhere the driver (and co-pilot) thinks there might be someone who wants a ride. And then beeps its horn. Over and over and over. This turns a two hour ride into potentially a six to eight hour ride.

Luckily, our drivers spot another "public" bus that passes us, beeps his horn and laughs. This was our lucky break. Since the driver in front is likely to get all the potential pick-ups along the way, our pilots crack open two Red Bulls, and put the pedal to the metal in an attempt to re-take the lead.

We're in Vang Vieng in no time flat..... only about 24 hours after I left the beach in Don Det.

River

Si Phan Don is Lao for 4000 islands. The Me Kong river winds down from China and acts as most of the border between Thailand and Laos. At the southern most end of Laos, the river spreads wide and relatively shallow. Islands of all shapes and sizes with lush greenery dot the river. Many of them disappear as the river deepens during the rainy season.

Three islands take visitors. Don Khong, Don Det, and Don Khon. All of them right at the border to Cambodia.

I arrived in Don Det expecting a bit more civilization than I actually found. I have seen plenty of very basic, shanty and farm style living since I arrived in Thailand, but this island is nothing but rice farms, some bungalows for guests, and a few restaurants. The people here do not strike me as impoverished, but just living life as it has been lived here for... well forever.

Sharing the road mostly with half naked babies, chickens, and water buffalo, I hike around to the other side of the island (the sunset side) with my pack. Mainly to have great sunsets and also in hopes my bungalow will stay cooler in the morning. I find that almost all are taken, and continue my sweaty trudge down "the sunset strip" until I find a nice one that is available. The Sunset Peace & Love Bangalows". Yes, Bangalows.

It is clear that this island was once nothing but rice fields. The families here have likely been here for generations. Somewhere along the line, they realized they could make extra money in the dry season by building some bungalows and getting into the hospitality biz. The Peace & Love family seem to have been in the biz all of about two months. The three bungalows on their property seem quite new and there are others being built by other families on either side. But bungalows aren't their only business. Like everyone else on the island, they are also travel agents, boat tour guides, restauranteurs, and bicycle rental.

The family lives in their farm compound about ten feet behind where I sleep. This is great if you want something to eat at a moments notice. However, it's not so good for privacy nor for sleeping in in the morning. The whole family, kids, pigs, and roosters are up around 6 am and for some reason are at their very loudest, bathing, clanging pots and pans, and some game the kids have made up that rewards who can shreik the loudest.

I rent a bike and take a pleasant ride around the island. You can circle the whole thing in about thirty minutes. I also take a bridge to Don Kohn and find an impressive water fall. Impressive mainly because there are no mountains here. How is this possible? Somehow there is a spot where the ground drops about 100 feet and water rushes down through giant rocks. I also find some women weaving very nice tapestries with an old time loom. I am happy to buy one of their pieces. No sweatshops here.

Around sunset it's bathing time. The whole population of the island strips down (naked for kids, undies for men, and sarongs for women) and hops into the river with their basket of toiletries and scrubs down. It's also a great time for a river cruise since the hot afternoon sun has subsided. My family, of course, is more than happy to oblige.

Later in the evening, locals and visitors head down to the one and only beach for a bon fire. This is just about the only social occasion on the island.

After a couple of days of this, I have seen all there is to see and decide to head north toward Vientiene.

Laos

Quite a journey from Chaing Mai to Laos. I wanted to enter Laos at Pakse which is off the beaten path.... not Pakse.. but the trip from Chaing Mai to Pakse. I decided to make a bee line for Don Det island since I have had more than one rave review of it.

The bus to Ubon Ratchatani was an all Thai experience. I got to see how people travel in Thailand when they are not a western tourist. Travel agencies tend to lump all of the "farang" together seperate from locals. Even on public trains we somehow always seem to be on the same car together.

As it turns out the Thais travel in style! The "VIP" busses I usually ride on are decent and have big seats... but seem to be of the "we used get big money for rides on these back in the 70's" variety. Usually with a couple of teenagers running the show on the bus. On my real world trip, I was in a Mercedes bus with a uniformed crew, polite announcements, refreshments, luggage tickets. The whole shebang. It was more like an airline than a bus.

However. No announcements in English. The movie? American... but dubbed into Thai with no subtitles. Also, at every stop. No more English on the signs. All Thai, all the time.

When we got to Ubon Ratchetani, the closest big Thai town to the Laos border, it was more of the same. This is not a tourist town, so no more tourist luxuries. I had a three hour layover there, so I decided to go on an adventure into town. I checked the map, found a sawgthaw (a pickup with benches in the back that taxis more than one party at a time - cheaper than a regular taxi), and headed downtown to find some food.

I didn't do so well and didn't end up anywhere near my target. But I found some nice street food of friend bananas and some tropical fruit and called it a partial success.

On the bus trip into Laos, I expected I would meet up with some more tourists who might have taken the train in to enter Laos the same as me. Wrong. None. All Laotians and Thais. Now I was starting to wonder if I can even get a visa on arrival at the border if no tourists ever come here.

At the border we went through the process of exiting Thailand in a nice new immigration building.. Then walked out the back door into Laos with paper signs pointing the way to the Laos entry office. About 200 yards down a dirt path, then into town where locals pointed where to walk. The dingy Laos office was a bit confusing but they did get a visa for me. Luckily I had some passport photos on me and some US dollars. That's the money they prefer. I felt quite lucky to have made it through the border with a 30 day visa.

After 3 near fatal motorbike collisions with the bus, we made it to Pakse in the dark. Sigh. So I walked around with my pack until I found a free room.

I had some amazing Indian Food at Jasime Restaurant where I noted they just opened a new location in Don Det. Sweet!

After dinner I decide to look for a bar to have a couple of drinks. None. Nada. Nothing to do at all in the town. So quiet. I decide Pakse is not the place for me. And decide to go to Don Det the following morning.

Reunion

After leaving Pai, I decided to spend a couple of days with Anna and Snedz in Chiang Mai who I befriended in Thong Nai Pan. They were on their way to Pai for a big reggae festival and I am on my way to Laos. I also wanted to spend a day or two in Chiang Mai to check it out. It was raining so bad in Pai, I made a last minute decision to just hop on a bus and see if I could find them.

After a rough time finding a guesthouse, I went exploring around town to look for restaurants, night spots, and my friends. It became clear that this is a pretty big town. Not just a given that I would bump into them, especially since they didn't know I was there and wouldn't be looking for me.

While wandering, I liked what I saw. Chaing Mai is quite urban and has street after street, alley after alley of charming bars and restaurants. I also, quite by accident, stumbled on the red light district (I think). I noticed a large area filled with little bars, some with pool tables. All of them had only Thai women in them, and a sprinkling of western men socializing with them. No western women. I walked along the outside and noticed a Muay Thai (boxing) match going on in the center of the bars. I walked just inside the boundry of the area to get a closer look at the boxing and I was immediately snatched by the arm by a pretty Thai woman who insisted that I sit down and have a beer with her. I objected and told her I was looking for my friends and wouldn't be staying. She wouldn't let go. She was very insistent. I really had to pull hard to get out of there. Now I could see that the boxing was merely bait... something that would draw guys in. Sheesh.

I started walking back toward some live music I had seen before, and poof, there were Anna and Snedz, eating at a sidewalk table. I said "Who's buying me a drink!" We had a fun night and ended up at an afterhours party and lost track of time.

The next day I made arrangements to travel to Pakse, Laos. This will be my first adventure off the tourist circuit since most folks go a different direction from Chaing Mai.

Learning

I have learned a few things along the way so far in my first month on the road in Thailand. Here is a short list of things.

I learned how to drive on the left side of the street.

Well ride, really. I rented a bicycle for a couple of days in Pai. It really took some getting used to. I had a couple of close calls with riding head-on into some one on the right side. Oops! My bad. I think I'm used to it now. I feel like a little kid when crossing the street though. At home my instincts tell me which way to look before I cross a street. Now my instincts are backwards, so I have to look back and forth over and over to avoid getting creamed.

I learned that Thai's don't ride bikes.

Somehow I had this picture in my head of everyone on bicycles here. I was one of the very few on the road. Most Thais either ride moterbikes or walk. I am guessing that it could be the dividing line in economic classes. Middle class ride. Folks with no money walk. Maybe it's considered embarrasing to ride a bike or something. It makes for loud streets and polluted air, and it's too bad.

I learned never to wash your clothes when it's raining.

For some reason I thought that as long as the rain didn't actually touch the clothes I washed and hung out to dry, that they would dry eventually. Completely wrong. A whole day later, they were just as wet as when I took them out of the sink.

I learned that Americans don't seem to travel very much.

At least not to Thailand. I have met a lot of people along the way, and I can count on one hand how many Americans I have seen. Mostly there are Europeans and Australians here. I am not sure why this is. At first, I though it might be because Thailand is further from the US than these places. But I don't think that really accounts for the difference. I think it's just not part of American culture to travel long term. Mainly quick hotel package trips. Still not sure though.

I learned to get what I need from people now, not later.

Email addresses, borrowed items, etc. You really may never see these people ever again. I left the sarong Shannon gave me in a friend's bike basket one night and said "Oh, I'll get it from you tomorrow." I woke up to realize I didn't have any reliable way to find this person besides the usual bumping in to them around town. I was sad to think I might never see it again. But I did. Lesson learned.

I learned not to worry.

At least here in Thailand, things will generally work out one way or another. I have had a couple of problems, but nothing worth stressing about. I realized when I was on a mini bus to Chiang Mai, about five minutes before we were to arrive at the bus station, that I hadn't any idea where I was going when I got there. A month ago, I would have planned this out far in advance, pouring over the details of each potential option. Suddenly this didn't seem so urgent. I did a quick scan of the map, made a guess about the general area to head for, got dropped off, developed a sense of direction, and found my destination. No rooms available. Oh. Ok next one. No rooms. Twelve more inquiries. Nothing. Getting dark, getting anxious. Found one. See? Just fine. My friends even commented how lucky I was to have found a place in such a cool part of town.

It's all in the research. (?)