After much debate and a three month trial period, Brienne finally let me contribute to her blog. So here it goes… Guest Blogger: Felix Gabathuler.
Laos. Vang Vienne. Where to begin…? As we left Chiang Mai, we left behind an incredible experience of deliciously bazaar foods, blind folded muy tai fights, ringside betting, fording rivers on elephants, and a great hostel. But we hadn’t seen nothin yet. We boarded our third night bus in five days and left the elegant city of Chiang Mai behind. A quick word on Thai buses: if you have a heart condition, please use the train. I woke up a couple times during the night to the sound of squealing tires and our bus swaying from side to side. These drivers obviously know what they’re doing, but you have to question their sanity at times. The main thing is, they get you to where you need to be very quickly. You can't argue with success.
In the morning we made it to the Friendship Bridge in Nong Khai, the border city to Laos. The king had built this bridge to smooth over some beef Laos had with Thailand back in the day. Don’t mess with Laos. Crossing the border was no big deal. We had done our homework and gotten the proper papers and documents to legally get into Laos, so we swiftly moved through the crowds and lines. I changed around four thousand baht (120$) and the porter handed me about a billion Laos Khip. Yes, this is one of those countries where a beer costs you around 30,000 Khip and a hotel stay around 150,000 Khip. That’s not even the strangest part. Vendors and Tuk-Tuk drivers want Thai baht instead of their own currency. And if you buy lunch and give them a little too much baht, they will give you your change back in Khip. It got really confusing trying to total together exactly how much we were paying for stuff.
The Friendship Bridge border is about twenty minutes from Vienne Tienne, the capital city of Laos. Speaking only mit noy (a little) Thai, it was hard to find a minivan that went to the small town of Vang Vienne. We got lucky when a British man with no arms who speaks fluent Laos helped us out by bargaining a ride for us. I felt sorry for his hardship until he totally took over the situation and got us a cheap deal. That guy was the man! We were promised a luxury, air conditioned, spacious minivan for the 3 hour ride to Vang Vienne. Thanks English guy! We ended up riding an old, crappy, stuffy, POS dodge caravan crammed to the windows with travelers. Oh well, we got a deal, right? Talking to the guy next to us, we had over paid by 100 baht. F@#KING ENGLISH GUY!!!
The trip wasn’t that bad actually. Next to me sat a 6 foot 5 inch Serbian dude name Vladimir. His German girlfriend with some sort of lip disease slept in the back while “Vlad the Impaler”, (we secretly named him), serenaded us with stories of travels to America and how he hated it. He was a nice guy. He laid out his plan of becoming a yoga instructor and marrying his girlfriend because she’s the one for him and how they will have many babies and he will never leave her. It was interesting. When he finally ran out of steam and his stories dried up, we looked out the windows and were truly amazed at how rural things had gotten. Brienne and I have been in Thailand now for a while, but we hadn’t seen anything this dusty yet. Houses looked like they would blow over in the next rain storm, if there ever was one. Dust swirled behind us and little kids waved and ran after the van. The whole village it seemed came out of the woodwork to watch us go by. Huge jagged mountains sat off in the distance and as the sun settled on the horizon, Laos was beautiful.
Vang Vienne was like an oasis in the desert. Sitting right there on a river that bordered one of those jagged mountains, the village seemed irresistible. It was surrounded by forests that pocketed hidden jungle bars and rave parties. At times, we felt like Robin Hood as we went bounding over hanging ladders and through fields to get to elusive bars like “Smile Bar” and “Q Bar”. How had we never heard of this place before? The view alone was worth the trip, something straight off a postcard.
Only four types of businesses existed in this place: hotel, restaurant, bar, and baguette vender. We picked a random restaurant and lay down. Yes, lay down. There were no chairs here or anywhere in Vang Vienne. They were replaced with huge wooden beds with little breakfast in bed type tables on them. We now know how the old Roman elite felt as they lay down to dinner and got fanned with huge leafs while grapes were placed in their mouths. Also, ev-er-y-sing-le place in town showed episodes of the show Friends on repeat. As bad as that show is, it was oddly mesmerizing. You had to tear yourself away to have any chance of leaving the place.
That first dinner we were oblivious to Vang Vienne’s staple dish. We went with the old standby, good ol’ wiener schnitzel. You can never go wrong. But something better awaited us. After dinner, and a couple hikes around the city trying to find our hotel that had the exact same name as three others, we met our friends and were enlightened: FRENCH BAGUETTE. It was a life altering discovery.
Now you may be sitting there thinking “Big deal, what’s so good about a baguette”. Come sit on Grandpa’s knee and I will tell you a tale of extraordinary taste and fillingness. You must remember, our diet has consisted of Khow Pat Guy (prounounced cow pad guy and meaning fried rice with chicken) for 4 months. Thailand doesn’t do bread, or cheese, or mayo, or bacon, or just about anything that satisfies a man’s needs fully. This baguette alleviated four months of stomach frustration. It’s longer than a Subway foot-long and a little narrower. It’s jam packed with chicken, mayo, lettuce, tomato, cucumbers, bacon, special Laos style ketchup, and just about any food not found in Thailand. All in all, I think combined between the two of us, we ate 25 of those beauties. Breakfast, lunch , dinner: Baguette baby! And it never got old. To this day I dream of them after eating my khow pat guy.
So far, Vang Vienne had been a paradise. Great food, we were with our friends, and the place was beautiful. But have I told you the reason we came here? Needless to say, it was not for the view or the baguette; we came here to Partyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!! Vang Vienne is known throughout Laos and apparently Thailand as the tubing capital of the world. I consider myself an expert tuber having done so many times down the James River in Virginia, but nothing could have prepared any of us for this.
The morning of New Years Eve we woke up bright and early around eleven o’clock and set out. After eating our first of many baguettes that day, we found the tubing office. The entire white population of the town was in line. I couldn’t spot Vlad, I think he was a little too wholesome for this. Here we rented tubes for the day and strung them all up on the roof of a Tuk-Tuk. About fifteen tubes fit on one ride, with about ten people in the back. At one point, there were so many people and tubes that the front of the tiny taxi lifted off the ground and we all tumbled out the back. We had hit max capacity. After much rearrangement, we puttered out of town a couple miles and were dropped off at the launching point into the river. There, we were floored.
In front of us lay a stretch of river not one mile long, lined with countless bars, rope swings, slides, mud volleyball courts, and zip lines. This weren’t your everyday swings and slides either. At one bar, if you let go at the right time, the safest time, you fell about 30 feet. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Slides were so huge, you got going so fast when you hit the end (that pointed upwards) you had no control over your body. You just hoped you hit the water at the right angle. Jagged rocks pointed out of the water waiting for someone to let go of a zip line at the wrong time. We were told the river was exceptionally low for this time of year. Each bar was about 20 feet down river from the next. Every one of them had a platform jutting out over the water, all built with bamboo; and all looking like they would collapse if one too many people came aboard. Signs everywhere encouraged tubers to ‘COME ON IN’ for free shots of Tiger Whiskey and Liquor Buckets. It was pretty much an open bar everywhere. This was not tubing. This was heaven.
Much debauchery happened those two days on the river. Some things I am proud of, some not. I still say we kicked that river’s ass. We rode those death contraptions so many times, we made Evil Kinievel look like Mother Theresa. It was two straight days, and I do mean straight( the first day of tubing led to the New Year’s Eve jungle party which led straight into the second day of tubing), of fun and bonding with our friends. A lot of parts are a little blurry, and vice versa; but looking back, it was incredible.
Leaving Vang Vienne was a sobering experience. We were all zombies. Nobody said much. Our ride back to the Friendship Bridge was quiet, everyone coming to terms with what they had just done over the past two days. We got to the border and said goodbye to our friends. “You better not put that picture on Facebook” was a much used expression. Me, Brienne, Rich, and Adam climbed aboard yet another overnighter and finally made our way home.
What a month. Wait, we had only been gone one week. My head hurts. Did we really just explore most of northeastern Thailand and Laos in one week? We had to look at our pictures to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. Everything was there. Phewwww, I’m going to bed.
Laos. Vang Vienne. Where to begin…? As we left Chiang Mai, we left behind an incredible experience of deliciously bazaar foods, blind folded muy tai fights, ringside betting, fording rivers on elephants, and a great hostel. But we hadn’t seen nothin yet. We boarded our third night bus in five days and left the elegant city of Chiang Mai behind. A quick word on Thai buses: if you have a heart condition, please use the train. I woke up a couple times during the night to the sound of squealing tires and our bus swaying from side to side. These drivers obviously know what they’re doing, but you have to question their sanity at times. The main thing is, they get you to where you need to be very quickly. You can't argue with success.
In the morning we made it to the Friendship Bridge in Nong Khai, the border city to Laos. The king had built this bridge to smooth over some beef Laos had with Thailand back in the day. Don’t mess with Laos. Crossing the border was no big deal. We had done our homework and gotten the proper papers and documents to legally get into Laos, so we swiftly moved through the crowds and lines. I changed around four thousand baht (120$) and the porter handed me about a billion Laos Khip. Yes, this is one of those countries where a beer costs you around 30,000 Khip and a hotel stay around 150,000 Khip. That’s not even the strangest part. Vendors and Tuk-Tuk drivers want Thai baht instead of their own currency. And if you buy lunch and give them a little too much baht, they will give you your change back in Khip. It got really confusing trying to total together exactly how much we were paying for stuff.
The Friendship Bridge border is about twenty minutes from Vienne Tienne, the capital city of Laos. Speaking only mit noy (a little) Thai, it was hard to find a minivan that went to the small town of Vang Vienne. We got lucky when a British man with no arms who speaks fluent Laos helped us out by bargaining a ride for us. I felt sorry for his hardship until he totally took over the situation and got us a cheap deal. That guy was the man! We were promised a luxury, air conditioned, spacious minivan for the 3 hour ride to Vang Vienne. Thanks English guy! We ended up riding an old, crappy, stuffy, POS dodge caravan crammed to the windows with travelers. Oh well, we got a deal, right? Talking to the guy next to us, we had over paid by 100 baht. F@#KING ENGLISH GUY!!!
The trip wasn’t that bad actually. Next to me sat a 6 foot 5 inch Serbian dude name Vladimir. His German girlfriend with some sort of lip disease slept in the back while “Vlad the Impaler”, (we secretly named him), serenaded us with stories of travels to America and how he hated it. He was a nice guy. He laid out his plan of becoming a yoga instructor and marrying his girlfriend because she’s the one for him and how they will have many babies and he will never leave her. It was interesting. When he finally ran out of steam and his stories dried up, we looked out the windows and were truly amazed at how rural things had gotten. Brienne and I have been in Thailand now for a while, but we hadn’t seen anything this dusty yet. Houses looked like they would blow over in the next rain storm, if there ever was one. Dust swirled behind us and little kids waved and ran after the van. The whole village it seemed came out of the woodwork to watch us go by. Huge jagged mountains sat off in the distance and as the sun settled on the horizon, Laos was beautiful.
Vang Vienne was like an oasis in the desert. Sitting right there on a river that bordered one of those jagged mountains, the village seemed irresistible. It was surrounded by forests that pocketed hidden jungle bars and rave parties. At times, we felt like Robin Hood as we went bounding over hanging ladders and through fields to get to elusive bars like “Smile Bar” and “Q Bar”. How had we never heard of this place before? The view alone was worth the trip, something straight off a postcard.
Only four types of businesses existed in this place: hotel, restaurant, bar, and baguette vender. We picked a random restaurant and lay down. Yes, lay down. There were no chairs here or anywhere in Vang Vienne. They were replaced with huge wooden beds with little breakfast in bed type tables on them. We now know how the old Roman elite felt as they lay down to dinner and got fanned with huge leafs while grapes were placed in their mouths. Also, ev-er-y-sing-le place in town showed episodes of the show Friends on repeat. As bad as that show is, it was oddly mesmerizing. You had to tear yourself away to have any chance of leaving the place.
That first dinner we were oblivious to Vang Vienne’s staple dish. We went with the old standby, good ol’ wiener schnitzel. You can never go wrong. But something better awaited us. After dinner, and a couple hikes around the city trying to find our hotel that had the exact same name as three others, we met our friends and were enlightened: FRENCH BAGUETTE. It was a life altering discovery.
Now you may be sitting there thinking “Big deal, what’s so good about a baguette”. Come sit on Grandpa’s knee and I will tell you a tale of extraordinary taste and fillingness. You must remember, our diet has consisted of Khow Pat Guy (prounounced cow pad guy and meaning fried rice with chicken) for 4 months. Thailand doesn’t do bread, or cheese, or mayo, or bacon, or just about anything that satisfies a man’s needs fully. This baguette alleviated four months of stomach frustration. It’s longer than a Subway foot-long and a little narrower. It’s jam packed with chicken, mayo, lettuce, tomato, cucumbers, bacon, special Laos style ketchup, and just about any food not found in Thailand. All in all, I think combined between the two of us, we ate 25 of those beauties. Breakfast, lunch , dinner: Baguette baby! And it never got old. To this day I dream of them after eating my khow pat guy.
So far, Vang Vienne had been a paradise. Great food, we were with our friends, and the place was beautiful. But have I told you the reason we came here? Needless to say, it was not for the view or the baguette; we came here to Partyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!! Vang Vienne is known throughout Laos and apparently Thailand as the tubing capital of the world. I consider myself an expert tuber having done so many times down the James River in Virginia, but nothing could have prepared any of us for this.
The morning of New Years Eve we woke up bright and early around eleven o’clock and set out. After eating our first of many baguettes that day, we found the tubing office. The entire white population of the town was in line. I couldn’t spot Vlad, I think he was a little too wholesome for this. Here we rented tubes for the day and strung them all up on the roof of a Tuk-Tuk. About fifteen tubes fit on one ride, with about ten people in the back. At one point, there were so many people and tubes that the front of the tiny taxi lifted off the ground and we all tumbled out the back. We had hit max capacity. After much rearrangement, we puttered out of town a couple miles and were dropped off at the launching point into the river. There, we were floored.
In front of us lay a stretch of river not one mile long, lined with countless bars, rope swings, slides, mud volleyball courts, and zip lines. This weren’t your everyday swings and slides either. At one bar, if you let go at the right time, the safest time, you fell about 30 feet. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh. Slides were so huge, you got going so fast when you hit the end (that pointed upwards) you had no control over your body. You just hoped you hit the water at the right angle. Jagged rocks pointed out of the water waiting for someone to let go of a zip line at the wrong time. We were told the river was exceptionally low for this time of year. Each bar was about 20 feet down river from the next. Every one of them had a platform jutting out over the water, all built with bamboo; and all looking like they would collapse if one too many people came aboard. Signs everywhere encouraged tubers to ‘COME ON IN’ for free shots of Tiger Whiskey and Liquor Buckets. It was pretty much an open bar everywhere. This was not tubing. This was heaven.
Much debauchery happened those two days on the river. Some things I am proud of, some not. I still say we kicked that river’s ass. We rode those death contraptions so many times, we made Evil Kinievel look like Mother Theresa. It was two straight days, and I do mean straight( the first day of tubing led to the New Year’s Eve jungle party which led straight into the second day of tubing), of fun and bonding with our friends. A lot of parts are a little blurry, and vice versa; but looking back, it was incredible.
Leaving Vang Vienne was a sobering experience. We were all zombies. Nobody said much. Our ride back to the Friendship Bridge was quiet, everyone coming to terms with what they had just done over the past two days. We got to the border and said goodbye to our friends. “You better not put that picture on Facebook” was a much used expression. Me, Brienne, Rich, and Adam climbed aboard yet another overnighter and finally made our way home.
What a month. Wait, we had only been gone one week. My head hurts. Did we really just explore most of northeastern Thailand and Laos in one week? We had to look at our pictures to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. Everything was there. Phewwww, I’m going to bed.
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