Loving and leaving Laos

Well, once again Robby and I have proven our ineptitude at being diligent bloggers. A busy month has passed since we last posted. Time shape shifts while out on the road but one thing is for sure and that is that the days are starting to fly by.

Although Robby hated to leave Luang Prubang (I have a feeling that if the city was a woman I would currently be single) we finally did just that. We had met a very interesting man on the way from Vang Vieng to Luang Prubang named J.R. He is from Vermont and currently living in Mammoth, CA (the same small town where my brother lives). J.R. was killing time in SE Asia before embarking on an extreme adventure of ski mountaineering in the Zanskar range in northern India. We had all hit it off and spent many enjoyable evenings trying out new delicious foods at the market or down by the river in Luang Prubang. J.R. shared our passion for sticky rice, chili pastes and all things eggplant and those dinners full of amazing food, beer laos, and great conversation were some of the most enjoyable evenings of the trip yet. J.R. also decided to head further north via boat trip up the Mekong and Nam Ou rivers and the 3 of us had the good fortune of having the boat to ourselves for 2/3 of the 7 hour trip. You might think 7 hours in a boat on a hard wooden seat would be a drag but not if the ride went past some of the most beautiful scenery you had ever seen. I continually thought to myself "Ok, THIS is the most beautiful stretch of river" only to come around the bend to a part of the river that had me saying it again. We were all struck by how unique the landscape of Northern Laos is. J.R. had brought along some sticky rice, veggies, and chili paste and we contributed some fruit and we had an impromptu picnic on the floor of the boat. The boat was taking us to the village of Nong Khiaw. We coincidentally ran in to a girl we had met in Thailand and also made friends with several other single travelers staying at the village and spent the days at Nong Khiaw and neighboring Muang Ngoi hanging out with them. We went on a "100 water falls" hike in the hills neighboring Nong Khiaw and fishing/swimming in the Nam Ou while in Muong Ngoi. Muong Ngoi also had a fantastic restaurant very falsely claiming to be a "pizza party" joint. Turned out it was THE place to be for delicious local food. Something must really be said about the varieties of eggplant that grow in Laos. They are delicious! The specialty in Muong Ngoi is roasted eggplant dip eaten--just like everything else--with sticky rice. SO GOOD! Robby is already doing his research on getting mail order seeds and having his dad grow them in the greenhouse. The villages, particularly Muong Ngoi, were lovely and we would have gladly spent more time there but we were running out of cash (there is no ATM, no electricity after 10 p.m.). We headed south to the tourist trap/ancient intrigue that is the "Plain of Jars". Located in the middle of the country scattered across miles are jars dating back 2500 years of which little is known. The jars and their story is interesting, the town they are outside of, Phonsovan, is most definitely NOT. From Phonsovan we re-traced our steps back to Vientiane and then headed south to the "4,000 islands" in southern Laos. We spent the first few days on the largest and least populated of the islands, Don Kong. We pedaled around it's 30 km in an afternoon and spent the days lazing around and admiring the view from the veranda of the guesthouse. The days before Thanksgiving were spent on the much more tourist populated Don Khon. It had a feel like Vang Vieng but to a lesser degree although I can see things heading down that road in a few years. Robby and I weren't nearly as taken with the islands as we had anticipated and decided the best way to spend Thanksgiving would be to travel on to Cambodia. Doing a bit of research had prompted us to get our Cambodian visas in advance instead of at the border and I am glad we did. While the people in Laos are as a general rule very laid back and honest when it comes to tourists, we had read that Cambodians can be a little more hip to the idea of sliding a fast one and/or a total scam to westerners. We witnessed the first of these on the bus moments after getting on to the bus on the Cambodian side and were glad not to be the British couple who found themselves freed of their passports and at least an extra $40 in a sketchy situation. Robby and I entered Cambodia pounds lighter than we left home--rice and beer are keeping us fed so I am referring to our packs not our bodies--and we were relieved to get off that bus and disappear much more easily in to the crowd of our first Cambodian town, Kratie.