One time, back in 'Nam...

After the trip to Halong Bay, I spent a couple of days exploring Hanoi.  First, I visited an old French prison located near Hanoi's French Quarter.    During the French occupation, it was intended to hold Vietnamese prisoners, particularly political prisoners fighting for independence -- many of whom were often subject to torture and execution.  The prison was later taken by the Vietnamese after they ousted the French at the battle of Dien Bien Phu in 1954.
During the Vietnam War, the Vietnamese used the prison to house American POW's and was sarcastically nicknamed the "Hanoi Hilton".  This is the same prison where John McCain was held after his plane was shot down over Hanoi in October of 1967.  He endured five and a half years here as a POW  before finally being released.  From the beginning, U.S. POW's endured miserable conditions, including poor food and unsanitary conditions.  Today, the prison is filled with war memorabilia, old photographs and  propaganda.

John McCain's Flight Suit

Later that day I visited the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum where Ho Chi Minh's embalmed body is kept.  Ho Chi Minh was a Vietnamese Communist revolutionary leader who was prime minister (1946–1955) and president (1945–1969) of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam (North Vietnam). He led the Viet Cong during the Vietnam War until his death in 1969.

One thing you should know about Ho Chi Minh is that he is revered with almost god-like status among the Communist Vietnamese.  He is still referred to as "Uncle Ho" and his pictures are everywhere, even on every single piece of their currency.  Ho Chi Minh was a well traveled man especially for that day in age.  Living parts of his life in the U.S., England, France, Russia, and China, the communist leader took a bit of political knowledge from every country he lived in. 


















I know I've forgotten to mention it up until this point, but the Vietnamese currency is known as the Dong so you can only imagine the jokes I've heard while traveling.  Currently, $1.00 is roughly worth 20,000 dong, which means it only takes $50 to be a millionaire here.  I remember going to the ATM to take out 8 million dong when I bought the motorcyle and stuffing a wad full of dong in my wallet!  I can tell you it's an awesome feeling to have 8 million dong burning a hole in your wallet.  Walking the streets back to the hostel, I felt like I should have had my dongs secured in a locked metal briefcase and handcuffed to my wrist, but then again it was only $380.

____Observations on Northern Vietnam

In Hanoi, communism is alive and well.  Mandatory curfews are enforced at midnight when police patrol the streets, ready to smack any late night "revelers" with their batons.  I've been told the cops don't hassle foreigners too much, but the locals, they get this fear of God look in their eyes and run like hell when the "gestapo"shows up.

One comedic episode involving some curfew breakage occurred one night on the main alley where most of the backpackers stay.  A local bia hoi (draft beer cafe) was serving past curfew when the men in blue showed up.  The bia hoi was jam packed with people, but the bar owner had posted look-outs on each end of the alley to scan for the baton-wielding police.  As the cops turned down the alley, the lookouts gave the bar owner the signal.

Sign Next to the Bia Hoi

The owner shoved as many customers inside the tiny bar as possible...and when I say tiny, I'm talking around 30ft x 15ft and standing room only.  Then, the owner used a remote control to close an accordian-like overhead door over the entrance of the open-air bar.  As the police rolled up, three other guys and myself (who hadn't been able to squeeze into the bia hoi) dropped our beers like a bunch of busted high schoolers at an after-prom party.  Unsure of how they'd react, we stood there with a blinded deer-in-the-headlights look on our faces.  But the cops just gave us an unfriendly scowl and told us to go to bed as we slowly backed away. 

As the police proceeded to beat on the garage door of the bar, we hung back to see what the outcome would be.  Finally, the garage door slowly opened and the owner sheepishly appeared.  To everyone on the outsides chagrin, no one but the owner was in the bar.  We knew what the police were thinking because we thought the same thing ourselves.  "Where in the hell did everyone go?"  The police walked inside the bar, sniffed around a bit, and then I caught the owner give me a wink.  Highly aggravated they wouldn't be collecting any bribe money that night, the men in blue yelled back at us to leave the area.  They then hopped in their paddywagon and sped off into the sweaty night.

I still couldn't believe what I'd seen.  Really, where did all of those people go?  Apparently the bar owner built a door in the back of his bar that lead into his small apartment behind the bar.  When he got the signal from his watchmen, he funneled everyone into his tiny apartment where he cut the lights and told everyone to remain silent.  As I stood there laughing and amazed, I kept thinking about how I love all the surprises that happen in this country.  It also kindof reminded me of the prohibition era in the U.S.  when everyone gatheredi in the speak easys to schnog down some ole-fashioned boot-legged spirits.

Oh and one other example of communism here... Facebook is blocked and you have to log in using a special website or you've got to get the head guy at the internet cafe to change some funky proxy settings for you.

Below is a picture of an old Russian Minsk that I meant to post a while back.  They're a legacy left behind by the Russians and they look super cool, but they are really really pieces of crap. 



Even though I'm home now, I'll try and put up posts since I spent another month and a half in S.E. Asia without posting anything. 

Where I learned to drive a motorcycle

Goodbye Eileen, Hello Halong Bay

So I forgot to mention that after having Eileen brought back to life and talking to several mechanics about the status of her health, I decided it best to sell her.  The mechanics told me there was no chance Eileen would make it all the way down to Ho Chi Minh City without going through the same troubles I'd already experienced.  It was actually a sad day after hearing her crank up again and feeling the warmth (or the overheating) coming from her engine.



I put up a few advertisements in the backpacker area as well as few postings online and was surprisingly able to fetch a decent price for Eileen in only 1 day.  I sold the bike to an expat who had been living in Hanoi.  Poor guy.  I told him about the problems I'd had, but he didn't seem to mind.  Luckily, I was able to sell him the bike for a price that netted me a loss of only $35.

Unfortunately, the next day, Jake's trip ended and he had to catch a flight back to Bangkok to connect with his return flight home.  I tried hard to convince him to extend his trip, but he had just accepted a great job working with Boeing that I knew would be impossible to pass up.  We had a great trip together with both some highs and lows.  We saw some amazing scenery and had incredible experiences.  How many people can say they've purposefully been thrown off an elephant or motorcycled around 1,800 hair pin turns in the mountains of Thailand, or even better -- screamed like little women when we had a rottweiler-sized rat fall in our bed near the Laos border?  Hopefully our trip together will inspire him and his girlfriend Jade to continue traveling and see more of the world, well maybe not the part about the rat.


After Jake left, I booked a boat trip to explore the UNESCO world heritage site of Halong Bay along the northeastern coast of Vietnam.  Halong Bay -- Majestic and mysterious, inspiring and imperious: words alone cannot do justice to the natural wonder that is Halong Bay. Over 3000 incredible limestone islands rising from the jade waters of the Gulf of Tonkin and you have a vision of breathtaking beauty. Halong Bay is pure art, a priceless collection of unfinished sculptures wrought by the hand of nature.

Halong Bay is the stuff of myths and naturally the Vietnamese have their own. Halong translates as ‘where the dragon descends into the sea’. Legend has it that the islands of Halong Bay were created by a great dragon that lived in the mountains. As it charged towards the coast, its flailing tail gouged out valleys and crevasses. When it finally plunged into the sea, the area filled with water, leaving only the pinnacles visible.

My 3 day trip through the bay began on an ancient looking Chinese-style 'junk' ship.  The trip was geared for a younger crowd so after a few hours of cruising we jumped off the ship's top deck into the water.  After a bit of splashing and swimming, we took some kayaks to explore the nearby caves created by the wind and waves.

Old Chinese looking junk ship

From Northern Vietnam

From Northern Vietnam

We spent the first night on the ship and where I met my bunk mate for the night named Grant.  Grant was a nice guy and quite an interesting character that had lived all over the world working for an Australian based organization that helped developing countries to train their police force.  At dinner, he told me about how he'd lived in Sudan for a number of years and was now living in Papua New Guinea. 

The next day, we headed for an island where we'd have time to wakeboard and explore more of the bay by kayak.  Wakeboarding in Halong Bay was a surreal experience.  I do it all the time at home, but being pulled behind a boat in bay was incredible to say the least.  Afterwards the tour group all hung out on the island and enjoyed a bountiful meal of fish, squid, chicken, beef, along with fried noodles and rice.

Castaway for day

Wakeboarding Halong Bay

From Northern Vietnam

We spent the next day cruising back to Halong City where the tour ended.  Since I'm pretty far behind on the blog, I've omitting many details in order to catch back up.  Sorry this one is kinda boring.

Fisherman at first light

From Northern Vietnam

Old Fishing Boat

From Northern Vietnam

Eating Snake in Hanoi, Vietnam

One of the things I wanted to try while I was in Vietnam was snake.  I had heard of this village called Le Mat  "Snake Village", just outside Hanoi that sounded just up my alley.  The village has been operating to breed and serve snake for hundreds of years as snake meat, and blood is considered a delicacy for the Vietnamese men.  It took some coercing, but finally I was able to convince Jacob along with 4 other English blokes from our guesthouse that it would be a once in a lifetime experience and also, according to Vietnamese folklore, would increase your virility -- not that we manly men need it or anything.

The drill goes something like this:  You show up at the village where you cross a series of small bamboo bridges to get to the area where the festivities begin.  When we arrived, we were sat on the floor at a table and were given drinks until our dinner was ready to be presented.  Soon after, our hosts brought out 2 three foot long snakes and asked if these would suffice.  Ideally, we'd have liked to go for the cobra, but it was just too expensive at nearly $100 a pop. 

We were satisfied with our snakes and next we were instructed onto the next 3 important tasks proceeding the preparation of our meal:  First, someone had to cut the snakes underside open to expose the beating heart.  Second, someone had to find the beating heart and tear it out.  I believe this was Jacob's task.  And, last but not least, one person had to swallow the beating heart.  No one seemed to want to swallow the beating heart so I volunteered.  It actually kind of resembled an oyster shot, only an oyster doesn't pulsate as it travels down your esophagus and into your stomach.

Me - Post snake heart

Once the snake heart was taken, they proceeded to drain the blood and bile to mix with rice wine as shooters.

Draining the blood and bile

Finally they took the snakes (or whatever was left) back to the kitchen and made an 8 course snake dinner. The dinner was excellent tasting, however not extremely filling as you can imagine. There was fried snake skin mixed with garlic and peppers, fried snake meat, grilled snake, snake spring rolls, vegetables, rice, and oh yes -- all the snake blood rice wine we could drink.

Red=Blood Shot Green= Bile Shot

 

We underestimated the power of the snake blood rice wine and the table got only slightly inebriated before the two hour ordeal was over. When Jake got home, I believe he went to the toilet and threw up... He's still not really sure if it was from the snake or the rice wine or both, but I think he can say it was still an interesting experience!

Motorcycle Chronicles - Days 4-5

Day 4

The next day we woke up early and continued on our journey. This was the longest leg of our trip (300km on dirt/semi-paved roads), and we were told it would take between 6 and 8 hours. We ended up making it in around 10 hours because of the back roads we took due to construction.  We drove for about 1 hr in the dark, which is exactly what we didn't want to do. It was raining when we left and didn't clear up for over an hour, so that probably slowed us down a bit as well.  Luckily, we picked the perfect time to motorcycle Vietnam...and by perfect, I mean worst.  Late August through September is Vietnam's monsoon season so everyday there is usually a torrential downpour.  Overall though, I think we were lucky an escaped the majority of the storms. 

Northwest Vietnam

However long and uncomfortable our ride was, it was also amazing. We went through a very rural part of Vietnam (near the boarder of China). The paved roads at the beginning were small and windy with one side being rock where the road was blasted through the mountain side, and the other a small guard rail (if that) with sheer vertical drops.  I kept half expecting a massive dump truck to come flying around the corner while blindly passing another massive car and us going flying over the edge.  Luckily the traffic wasn't bad that day.

The positive side of the monsoon season meant the mountainside contained every shade of green imaginable.  I think National Geographic could do an incredible special on this area with their high definition cameras. About 2 hours into the trip, the roads started to have small sections that had been washed out and were filled over with dirt and gravel, which eventually gave way to complete sections of mud.  The towns were spread out pretty far apart and we wouldn't see any signs of civilization for a good hour at a time. There was a lot of road construction going on and it looked as if a couple of the towns were built especially to house the construction workers. Again, I think we went through every element possible: rain, sun, mud, dust, small streams, etc. When we arrived we were again both completely caked with dried mud and dust.  After our long day, I gave Jake a congratulatory pat and watched the dust rise from his back like a book from Moses' personal library. 

Small village in a valley

Day 5

We decided to stay in a town (Son La) that was about 200 km away in hopes that we could have an shorter ride.  The morning was crisp, and the ride started out beautiful. More majestic mountain views, and the roads continued to get better... back to mostly paved with only a few washed out sections. We would pass through towns, and the Vietnamese children whom were going to school or playing near the road would do a double take (probably since our bikes were much bigger than the norm), wave, and yell "Helloooo". We would do our best to return the wave, honk, or rev the engines.  They loved it as much as we did.

About  two hours into the trip, after we had just passed though a small town and were starting to pick up a steady pace, my nightmare began.  Eileen (my Chinese Honda) broke down and by broke down I mean the engine melted and she became a worthless piece of scrap metal -- well not really, but it was bad enough that after 6 hours and 3 mechanics later no one was able to revive her. Thankfully Jake was there to tow me back to a nearby town or it would have been a nice fun sweaty workout pushing the bike back.  What I later found out ended up happening was that a seal or gasket was broken which caused the engine to burn oil constantly (even though I checked it multiple times, dad) and thus overheated Eileen.  Understandable given the fact that Eileen was old in her age -- 112 in dog years and we were driving +300 km's per day up steep hills and on rough terrain.

Working with the mechanic

Since no mechanic had the parts to fix Eileen, they told me I had to put her on a bus and head back to Hanoi -- a mere 10 hours away.  Great, I thought.  Only 10 hours on an overnight bus with me being the only foreigner and a broken down motorcycle.  This should be fun -- and man, let me tell you, it wasn't.  Jake decided that he would finish the ride alone and that we'd meet back up in Hanoi.  "Good luck," I told him.  And he would need it.  

My overnight ride back to Hanoi included an amazing stop for some delicious Vietnamese cuisine.  At around 3 a.m., we stopped for pho which is basically noodle soup containing some bits of meat.  The ultimate pleasure in this stop came when I found out the only meat being served was Rin Tin Tin (a.k.a. dog meat for those born after 1985).  I declined the offers for the meat and claimed to be a vegetarian, which practically shattered my manhood.  Generally, I eat at least 3 huge steaks a day at home, but eating dog was just too much.  As several men proclaimed "dog" to be #1 in Vietnam, I faked a smile and sipped on my vegetarian pho.

Eventually, the bus dropped me off somewhere on the outskirts of Hanoi at 4 a.m.  When they put the bike under the bus, they had to partially take it apart in order for it to fit.  I imagined arriving in Hanoi and them dropping me off with the bike in multiple pieces so I refused to pay the whole bus fare until someone put my bike back together in Hanoi.  Once the bike was put back together, it started raining.  As I stood there exhausted from the lack of sleep and still covered in mud and sweat from the day before, I pulled out a map and tried to get someone to show me where I was. Unfortunately no one spoke English and I could not pinpoint my location on any of the maps I had.  I was tired, hungry, only slightly irritated, and smelled worse than 3 day old opossum road kill.

From Northern Vietnam

Eventually after a fun game of charades, I managed to hire a pick-up truck driver to take me around with my bike in the back in search of a mechanic.  Since it was still dark, raining, and I had no idea where I was, both the driver and I knew I didn't have many options.  I knew I'd eventually end up being ripped off.  The young driver must have been no more than 18 years old, but he knew today was his lucky day.  I was a stranded foreigner -- a walking dollar sign. 

I later found that my driver did speak some broken English when he said that none of the mechanics would be open until 9 a.m., which meant I got to kill some time at his father's cafe drinking coffee.  While we were there, he sat and tried to teach me some Vietnamese.  The Vietnamese language has 5 or 6 tones, which means you can say the same word in 5 different pitches and it can have 5 different meanings.  My 5 hours of Vietnamese lessons ended up being excruciating since I was still exhausted from the lack of sleep.  The guy would get 2 inches away from my face and almost scream out the pronunciations coercing me into saying the words correctly.  Then he'd pull on both my cheeks to help me say the word again and later he insisted on nearly choking me to death by sticking a chopstick in my mouth to use as a tongue depressor.

We continued the lessons and drinking coffee, which I should add, is some of the best coffee I've ever tasted.  So strong it would probably be illegal in the U.S., each cup is individually brewed with about the same amount of coffee that we would use for just 1 pot.  It comes out blacker than oil, thicker than tar, and is so strong that you can only drink it in the smallest sips.  A splash of sweetened milk can be added to lighten the taste.



To make a long story short, I spent the better part of the day watching the mechanics disassemble the engine and put new pieces in.  Watching Vietnamese mechanics at work is interesting to say the least.  They all have a different opinion about what should be done and each one wants to show off his mechanical prowess.  Their skills are pretty rudimentary.  Often just banging on parts with a hammer on pieces that at home would normally be precisely tuned within a very small tolerance.  Tolerances -- these guys don't care a thing about them.  Bang on it a few times until it's in place and hope she fires up on the next crank.   Ahhh....Vietnam.

Later that day, I met up with Jacob after he'd spend nearly 8 hours driving all day in the rain and around the city trying to find our rendezvous  point -- The Backpackers Guesthouse.  We both had that worn down look our faces and later we swapped war stories about our equally adventurous journeys back to Hanoi.  "I almost got run over by a dump truck," Jake said.  "Well, I almost had to eat dog noodle soup and then got dropped off in the middle of nowhere at 4 a.m.," I retorted.

While it was somewhat of a hellacious experience for both of us, it was well worth it looking back at it now.  Would I have done anything differently I ask myself?  Of course.  I would've pushed Eileen over the edge of a mountain if I had the chance again.

Riding Over a Bridge

Rode over this tiny wooden bridge today...insane. I stole some other guy's youtube video because mine won't upload.

Motorcycle Chronicles - Northwest Vietnam - Days 1-3

Jacob and I started our 800 km epic motorcycle journey through the northwestern part of Vietnam on a 5 day loop through the rugged mountains and countryside.  What started out as one of the greatest experiences of my life turned into a nightmarish hell, but in retrospect as I'm writing this, it's definitely an experience I'll never forget.  We planned to visit an old French hill station high in the mountains in a town called Sapa which lies near the Chinese border as well as several other interesting towns along the way.  Jake was a little short on time before his departure flight back home so we decided to put our bikes on an overnight train to Sapa, which proved to be a trying, but interesting experience.

We found out you can load the bike on the train yourself, but since we spoke less than 2 words of Vietnamese, we paid some Vietnamese guys that worked for the moto rental company (where Jake rented a dirt bike) to help us.  We reluctantly handed them our keys and trusted that we'd see our bikes on the other side of the 10 hour train ride.  When we got to the train station, we picked up our tickets and crossed through the gate.  Standing there were our 2 bikes...not on the train....."hmmm, not good," we thought.  We were running a bit late and the train was about to leave so we started to panic.  We asked the train station attendant why our bikes weren't on the train, but she didn't speak any english, nor did she pretend to care.  Another guy that appeared to work for the station approached us and told us in very broken english that our bikes would not go on the train and that we should not leave or we'll never see the bikes again.   We were pretty freaked out and not sure of what to do since I'd paid $400 for my bike and Jake had a $3,000 deposit down on his.  We called the moto company and they told us everything was ok and that our bikes would go on the next train after ours.  "Okkk," we thought.  With only a few minutes to decide, we took a leap of faith and trusted the company that everything would be fine.  We literally sprinted for the train as it was leaving and got on while it started to leave the station.  That would never be allowed at home.  Man I love Vietnam.  Rules and regulations if they even exist are completely flexible, which can make things nice or it can work against you.



That night, we shared a sleeper cabin with a Spanish couple and swapped stories while practicing our Spanish.  It was tough getting to sleep knowing that I might not see my bike on the other side, but as luck would have it, the bikes came on the next train about an hour after our arrival.  We were also smart by outwitting the Vietnamese that tried to drain our fuel tanks...usually they drain the tanks for safety reasons on the train, but you don't get the gas back...or they charge you 3 times as much to buy gas near the station.  We drained the fuel from our tanks into some plastic bottles to carry with us before putting the bikes on the train. Muhahahaaaa.

The train stopped in a small town called Lao Cai where we completed the remainder of the trip to Sapa by bike.  It's always satisfying to have your own wheels especially when there are 20 eager touts (taxi drivers) hounding you to take their taxi.  Most of the touts nod at you with an impressed look that you're able to figure things out on your own since most of the other tourists seem to be on the "spoon fed" tour -- the kind where everything is pre-arranged for you  Most of the time, we enjoy the challenge of doing it on our.

It took an hour to get to Sapa from the train station and it was an amazing drive.  We explored Sapa by bike for awhile and I found a mechanic to take a look over my bike to make sure it was running ok.  It appeared to be burning some oil as black smoke seemed to be coming from the exhaust.  "No problem," he said.  I checked the oil, which appeared to be fine, but I kept having a bad feeling about what was to come.


We ended up picking a place high up on a hill (with an awesome balcony) overlooking the cartoon-like emerald green valley.  $10 a night between the two of us for a ridiculous view, free internet, and clean sheets -- what more can one ask!  Many of the people around Sapa are Hmong, which is an ethnic minority that I believe originated in Mongolia, but over time were pushed further and further south into Vietnam, Laos, China, and Thailand.   The town really has an out of this world feeling.  The Hmong men wear navy blue French pettycoats with popped collars and silver bands around their necks.  Women wear traditional clothing which they make themselves from hemp and dye with local indigo.  They are a truly 'ethnic' looking people and those involved in tourism speak excellent english.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hmong_people





We hired a tour guide to take us on a trek through the local Hmong villages and the countryside.  The views were almost beyond what I can describe.  It was the kind of thing that sent chills down your spine.  The entire mountain was a network of terraced rice fields framed by impossibly steep peaks .  Again, I don't think I can even put into words how beautiful the scenery is and I am convinced there is no other place like this in the world. It's as if the scenery was digitally enhanced by some computer nerd and you're sitting in a movie theatre with 3D glasses just soaking it in.   Words really can't describe the place or the feeling, but see the pictures for yourself and just know that pictures can't even do the place justice.


During our time in Sapa, we met a lot of the Hmong women as they were selling handmade hemp clothes, bags, etc. They would all come up and with broken English say "You buy from me?!". It was funny because it was all ages (from 4yrs to 85yrs old), and they would say the same thing. I assume that tourism must be their main source of income, aside from the old days of opium cultivation.  I've actually heard about tourists being propositiong to buy opium from 65 year old women.

Later that night, as Jake was in town grabbing a bite to eat, I returned to our guesthouse to find 5 Vietnamese men gathered on the floor eating and taking shots of rice wine.  I was invited to join, and by invited I mean amicably forced.  I tried explaining that my friend was waiting for me, but they would have none of it.  They offered me full coffee-sized cups of rice wine and proceeded to get me drunk.  I didn't want to be rude and decline, but I also didn't want to get obliterated like I was beginning to see was the case for these men.  And I didn't want these men to think that Americans are squares so I took 4 or 5 big glasses of the "happy water" as they called it, which eventually gave way to several manly grunts of satisfaction.  One old man (the drunkest of the bunch) grabbed my hand and shook it for what felt like a solid 10 minutes.  "Gam Uhhnn," I repeatedly grunted back, which means "thank you" and eventually, I slipped out to meet back up with Jake.


The next day Jake and I spent time exploring the town and checking out the local markets, which had some interesting hand made souvenirs we bought.  Realizing that we needed to get on with our trip, we left early the next morning for what turned out to be a 10 hour test of endurance.  We drove through every type of terrain imaginable: mud, gravel, potholes, washed out sections due to small rivers crossing the road or because of rock slides, dusty back roads, you name it.  The weather varied nearly as much as the terrain: rain, cold, and fog turned to radiating heat and humidity.   We were literally in the middle of nowhere and due to some major construction on a new highway, we were forced to take all the back roads through small and remote villages. 

The hard work was completely worth it though because the scenery was even more impressive than Thailand and Laos with continuous views of the mountains and rice terraces that constantly gave us goose pimples. The elements and construction work slowed us down a lot, and although we tried to make good time we didn't make it to our stop in Dien Bien Phu (the famous site where the Vietnamese won a decisive battle that ousted the French) until 8:30pm. When we arrived we were both covered from head to toe with mud and backcountry Vietnamese dust. To say the least we slept good that night!


That next morning we got on the road early in anticipation for another long-haul day.  The views again were absolutely stunning. 

I am probably a good 2 weeks behind on the blog, but will do my best to catch up...for some reason I can't access the blog site.  Stay tuned.

Good Morning Vietnam

After leaving Laos, Jacob and I took the easy way out and flew from Vientiane, Laos to Hanoi, Vietnam in order to avoid the grueling 25-30 hour bus ride.  We flew with Vietnam Airlines because apparently Laos Airlines has a sketchy record and doesn't report the number and cause of crashes, which have been relatively frequent in past years.

I'd heard many bad things about Vietnam from fellow travelers and especially Hanoi so I wasn't quite sure what to expect.  Vietnam's capital Hanoi is a living museum.  A fascinating glimpse into an Asian city of old, yet oozing with the energy and pace of a modern metropolis.  The constant buzz of motorbikes, street hawkers, pedaled rickshaws, pedestrians, bicycles, and cars envelopes this fascinating city as tourists apprehensively negotiate the narrow streets and risk life and limb to cross the road.

Everywhere you turn, there is constant activity and noise.  Honking motorbikes, squawking street vendors (and sometimes wildlife), the clanging of beer mugs at a bia hoi (local beer) cafe, everyday there's a sight that makes you ask yourself, "Did I really just see that?"  Life takes place in the outdoors.  People eating, cooking, playing, feeding babies, laughing, or just sitting and talking over a glass of hot chai tea, it's all here. I could spend days (and I have) just people watching in this city.  It's insane, it's beautiful, but at the same time dirty and disgusting.  It's hectic and frustrating at times, but it's steeped in history and it's never dull.  I can't get enough of the madness that is Hanoi.


For example, as I was walking down the street the other day, I watched a lady stab a goose in the neck and drain it's blood into the street while a brand new Range Rover drove by.  I ask myself how can these two things be seen in the same place at the same time.  I watch poor farmer women selling roots, vegetables, and meats from their old-fashioned wooden carrying baskets as they sit outside a modern 40 story building.  The buzz of the city is different than the other big cities I've been in.  It's organized chaos and I like it.  Crossing the street is an adventure in itself as the streets are filled with a sea of motorbikes.  One must venture out into the street one step at a time being ever vigilant, but mostly, you let the motorbikes do all the work and dodge you as you slowly, but directly put one foot in front of the other until you reach relative safety on the other side.  That is until you have to dodge the three people driving motorbikes on the sidewalk.  I also saw a whole dead big cut in half thrown on the back of a motorbike dripping blood being carried down the street.  The ingenuity of what these guys can carry on a motorbike is truly impressive.



On to the rest of my trip...

Every adventure lusting man dreams about venturing off on his own into some exotic and unknown country.  For me, my dream was to buy a motorcycle in Vietnam and ride Che Guevara-style from tip to tail, exploring the rugged mountains in the north along the Chinese border and then follow the Ho Chi Minh Trail all the way down to old Saigon, now known as Ho Chi Minh City (all the while jamming to some classic Vietnam War era hits like CCR's "Fortunate Son" and the Rolling Stones' "Paint it Black").  For a foreigner, owning a motorcycle in Vietnam is technically illegal, but authorities turn a blind eye as long as you have the proper ownership document (mine said I was born in 1960....nice!).  This incredible 2000 km motorcycle journey has been featured on the BBC series Top Gear and has gained popularity ever since the program aired.  I estimated it would take me a solid 4-5 weeks to explore the north and finish in the south.

I ended up buying a motorcycle (a "Honda" Bonus) from another Spanish traveler who had the bike for several weeks.  The bad part is that I had never even driven a real motorcycle, the kind with the full clutch.  All the bikes I've driven in Indonesia, Thailand, and Laos have basically been semi-automatic scooters since larger motorcycles aren't widely available.  Hanoi has to be one of the worst possible places in the world to learn to drive a bike, but I was determined to figure it out.  After a quick lesson from Jake, I had it figured out and was driving around Hanoi dodging motorbikes, pedestrians, chickens, and cyclos.

Eileen - the "Honda" Bonus

One type of motorcycle that many foreigners like to drive here is an old 2 stroke Russian legacy called the Minsk.  While they look awesome and the idea of riding an old communist Russian motorcycle across Vietnam sounds romantic, they break down every 100 km's, parts are hard to find, and the Vietnamese hate them;  thus, I ended up buying a "Honda", and when I say "Honda", I mean a cheap copy of one from Taiwan. 

My 'official' ownership paper

Our plan was to spend the next 10 days in northern Vietnam exploring the mountain towns and colorful ethnic Hmong villages by bike.  After our mountain trip, we planned to explore the Unesco World Heritage site of Halong Bay.  I also forgot to mention that Jacob rented a nice 230 cc dirtbike for the trip which is more than double the size of any of the bikes here and until recently, was also technically illegal to ride because it's bigger than what the police ride.

Tubing in Vang Vieng, Laos

The 5 hour minibus ride to Vang Vieng was well, for lack of a better word, insane.  If we didn't hear the wheels skid around each turn, we were going too slow.  Our driver considered himself the Laotian version of Dale Earnhardt and took us around mind bending 180 hair pin turns as if we were the Starship Enterprise entering warp speed to escape the cling-ons.  Off the ever-crumbling side of the roadway was a deep deep ,but beautiful valley, which I pictured the bus being hurled into since there was no railing.  We couldn't decide whether it was better to close your eyes and not see death coming or to be prepared for a death roll and brace for it.  We ran over multiple live animals and almost took out an entire village as our driver made his best attempt to break the sound barrier.  I jokingly asked if we could go back and pick up the chicken that we'd flattened so as to save a few bucks on dinner, but I all got was a sort of gruff "bwah" sound, which I guess meant the answer was no.

Arriving in Vang Vieng, we were greeted with some rather obnoxious (read blood alcohol content of 2.0) English folks singing and stumbling down the street.  Vang Vieng, a town literally in the middle of nowhere, in a country in the middle of nowhere can be defined as southeast Asia's Cancun.  While the scenery is beautiful, the town is completely centered around a new "sport" called tubing.

Tubing consists of renting a tractor tire inner tube and hiring a tuk-tuk to take you upstream.  From there you deposit yourself into the river and prepare to have fun.  The float down the river would probably take about 1 hour at full speed, but due to the stops and "recreation time" at the numerous bars on the river, it takes about 4-6 hours depending on how much you fancy blaring techno and slurring obnoxious folks all wearing the same souvenir t-shirts proclaiming there descent of the river.  Our tolerance level was set at about 4 hours, but they had some amazing (and very sketchy) bamboo towers with rope swings that kept our attention.



Along the sides of the river, there are about 10 different bars, each advertising their own array of swings, ziplines, waterslides, etc. The local Lao workers have ropes that they throw out to you and pull you in with.  It's a great setup and I'm sure they're making plenty of money off of it.  The river s surrounded by yet again, more beautiful mountain landscape, and it's definitely an ironic mix of natural beauty and spring break debauchery. Lots of music, drinks, and water activities made for a fun day, but a few days were enough for us.


After the tubing, we'd had enough and decided to rent some bikes to explore some of the other surroundings.  We drove into a small Hmong Village where we were stared at by little kids as they peeped their heads from behind doors.  We also ended up talking to a local Hmong kid who spoke really good English and said we were welcome to explore around the village.

Later we checked out some caves and some natural springs.  That's about it for Vang Vieng.  Mostly just a stop for us in between Luang Prabang and Vientiane for a few days, but man, was the scenery beautiful  See for yourself.

Leaving Luang Prabang

I am almost 2 weeks behind on the blog now due to our faster pace of travel and my tiredness from continuously keeping it updated...so I'm borrowing some info. from my travel buddy, Jacob's blog until I can get caught back up.  I'm also glazing over many of the details of what happened and not worrying about how anything sounds so please forgive me... 

After taking the slow boat down the Mekong to Luang Prabang we spent a few days relaxing and exploring this Unesco protected World Heritage city.  The town is completely the opposite of anything you'd expect to find in Laos, at least in my mind.  French influenced architecture, food, and some awesome bakeries fill the town.  A lot of the town actually reminded us of our home town in Charleston. Originally we were going to rent dirt bikes so we could explore the country side, but this proved to be difficult and expensive. After one afternoon of speaking to local tourist companies and dealerships, I started getting the impression that bike rental was discouraged due to the local tourism office wanting us to pay for the local taxi services. Anyhow, we changed our plans and decided to relax in Luang Prabang for a couple days, then head to Vang Viene for some tubing down a river and cave exploration, then to Vientiane (Laos' french capital) to fly out to Hanoi, Vietnam so we could get dirt bikes there. This cuts our trip a little short in Laos but allows us to extend the time in Vietnam. To try to relax from the frustration, we rented some beach cruiser style bicycles and grabbed some cold beers for a leisurely pedal around the town. 

While exploring the town we ran into an UXO (unexploded ordinance) museum that was really interesting.  We learned about the 'Secret War' going on in Laos that wasn't made public until sometime later in the 70's.  Apparently, Laos is the most heavily bombed country in the world and it continues to affect the Laotians even to this day.  Below is an excerpt I pulled from Lonely Planet to briefly explain the history during the Vietnam war.

In 1964 the US began its air war over Laos, with strafing and bombing of communist positions on the Plain of Jars. As North Vietnamese infiltration picked up along the Ho Chi Minh Trail, bombing was extended the length of Laos. According to official figures, the US dropped 2,093,100 tons of bombs on 580,944 sorties. The total cost was US$7.2 billion, or US$2 million a day for nine years. No one knows how many people died, but one-third of the population of 2.1 million became internal refugees.

A large portion (they estimate some 30%) of the bombs dropped on Laos did not explode leaving millions of unexploded bombs (technically called bombies) all over Laos.  This has made the land very difficult and expensive to farm, develop, and improve.  It's really a sad thing to hear about and they say that every day someone is injured by an unexploded ordinance.  Many of the small bombs are round and look like toys children.  Many, many children and adults have died or are missing limbs.  Many of the farmers are so poor that they try and salvage the bombs for there scrap metal, which often results in dire consequences.  The museum was really interesting and gave us some good insight on the damage that was inflicted on the people, and it was saddening to see how they're still being effected.

Collection of UXO's

One night we met a Malaysian guy (Andrew) who was in the room next to us. He spoke great English (in addition to 5 other languages), and he joined us at the local pub for some (Tower Beers).

They were the cheapest drink out, and pretty cool looking. We rode our bikes to the pub, in the rain and when the pub closed Jake offered to give Andrew a ride (the bikes had a seat that you could sit on above the rear wheel), which obviously sounds like a bad idea from the start. Things were going pretty well (although I'm sure Jake had things completely under control in his mind), until he missed a turn. Andrew shouted "There it is", and about 3/4 the way past it he tried to make a quick turn. The bike slipped out like they'd run hit a banana peel, and they both spilled...laughing. Luckily no one was hurt. Jake offered Andrew another ride and he said "I would rather walk"...which no one could blame him for. Jake then preceded to get back on the bike and continued riding down the right road. Before we got back to the Guesthouse, he tried to bunny hop off of a curb...and the bike did the same thing...slipped out....adding a nice ding to his upper thigh.  "All part of the experience," he said. Andrew then suggested that "maybe Jake should walk too"...He agreed and made it home fairly unscathed.

The next day we ended up renting two scooters from a local restaurant for $15 (3x more than in Thailand) and going to some really interesting waterfalls. They had a cool rope swing and also a small waterfall that we could jump off of. We were soon joined by a busload of Buddhist monk children, that were soon jumping off the waterfall and rope swing with us. It was great seeing them in a relaxed state since we always see them marching around town with such serious faces. 



We are now leaving on a small bus for the 6hr trip to Vang Viene...

Laos - Land of One Million Elephants

Communist Laos flung open its doors to tourism in the early 1990s and the last decade has witnessed an explosion in development. To be honest though, I had never even heard of Laos until I started planning the trip and looking at maps of Southeast Asia.  With it's mountainous terrain and more laid back pace, it sounded like it would be a good place for our next stop.


We left Chiang Mai, Thailand for Laos on a 2nd class bus which took 5 hours to get to Chiang Rai. We then had to catch the last bus in Chiang Rai leaving for the border town of Chiang Khong at 5 pm. The bus arrived at the station at 4:45pm, and when we went to buy a ticket to Chiang Khong, they told us that we had to go to another bus station across town. If we missed this bus it was going to put us back another day, so we hustled, caught a tuk-tuk, and made it to the other bus station at 5:10...luckily the buses never leave on time and we got on just before it left. The 3rd class bus ride was slow, but went through beautiful countryside. When we got to Chiang Khong, we caught another tuk-tuk and had him take us to Bamboo Guesthouse, which was recommended in the Lonely Planet book. When we got there, the place seemed semi-shady, but the room looked clean (although it was made of thatch and looked like it would fall down if I sneezed too hard), so we trusted Lonely Planet and took it. This is where our interesting night started...


In preparation for our trip to Laos, we read in our guidebook about the 2 day journey down the Mekong on a long and extremely slow boat, which required an overnight stay in a village along the river.  The accommodation in the village was supposed to be very basic with limited power, but worst of all, reports of "rats the size of beagles" inside some of the guesthouses.  As we prepared ourselves mentally for what might lie ahead in the coming days, we thought of the likelihood that these same mega-rats could potentially be in the same area where we were staying that night.  "No worries," we told ourselves.  "We are men and can handle it."  The more we looked at the holes in the ceiling and walls of our basic thatched hut, the more our confidence in ourselves dwindled. 

Our vision of a Beagle Sized Rat

That night in Chang Kong will be a night neither Jake nor I will ever forget.  About an hour before we cut the lights out for the night, we heard something scurrying up a tree outside the room.  Then a large thump as something heavy sounding landed on top of the ceiling.  "Holy explicative," we said, "What was that?"  It sounded large enough to be a dog, but we couldn't tell exactly what it was.  I assured Jake (and myself) that surely it wasn't the dreaded beagle rat and more than likely it was probably just a cat...since rats don't climb trees, right?  I'd been through rats in the ceiling before in Borneo so I was sure we could handle it without any worries this time.

We listened for a while as we heard something scurrying around above the ceiling.  We banged on the ceiling a few times and the noises subsided for a while.  Not wanting to seem like sissies, we both laughed it off and said that we would sleep with one eye open. I then turned the lights (the room was pitch black...couldn't see a thing), and we proceeded to drift off to sleep with visions of mega-rats in our heads.

And then it began again, but worse this time.  Heavy scratching sounds followed by eerie hissing/squeaking noises began on the ceiling above.  We both woke with tense nerves and the hair on our necks stood like two feral cats in a street fight (well, not mine, but Jake was terrified).  Then we heard the creature running back and forth thumping around heavily up above.  We turned on the lights and banged on the ceiling a few more times while yelling a few Thai explicatives at whatever it was since it probably didn't speak much English.  The noises stopped and somehow we managed to drift off to sleep again.

As we slept, the unimaginable finally happened.  A noise more violent and louder than all the others pounded down hard on the ceiling and a few seconds later as I lay there asleep something large and warm and furry fell from above onto my back.  Even though I was still deep in an almost delusional sleep, my senses were in commando mode.  While my mind was still in a state of innocuous sleep, my body reacted like a trained military forces agent.  I sprang to my feet on top of the bed like Rambo except the only difference between a commando and me was that I was screaming louder than Little Richard at his farewell performance and high stepping faster than any NFL prospect at the combine.

Feeling the warm fur running around in the bed, I jumped down to the floor where I continued yelling and cursing and furiously practicing my high steps.  Meanwhile, Jake hadn't had a chance to make contact with the beast, but was obviously panic stricken by the fact that the room was pitch black dark and I was screaming, "AHHHHH it's on meeeee.  It's on meeee, dude." 

Feeling what I thought was the massive rodent on the floor now, I hurled myself back up onto the bed and Jake and I both continued yelling and dancing like school girls.  Not wanting to touch the floor, we scrambled for a flash light and shown it around the room.  Unfortunately, I drew the short straw and had to be the one to look under the bed.  Jake envisioned that the beagle rat would come out and naw my face off, but luckily that wasn't the case. 

We knew he was in the room somewhere, but didn't know where. I got off the bed and turned on the light...nothing was there... but the noises above started again and even louder than before. We were both white with fear, and didnt know what to do at that point. I didn't have any scratches or bites, and we didnt know what just happened. After pondering leaving, we decided it was best to try to tough it out and go back to sleep. The noises continued until morning, and we both jumped every time something made a noise in the room. Neither of us slept a wink, and decided to leave at 6 am to get out of there. We later discussed the incident over food and beers and to this day are not sure what truly happened. Our best guess was that when Jake tried to wake me up, he hit me which made me think a rat had fallen, then he must have hit my leg... who knows... funny story though.


Slow Boat to Luang Prabang

The slow boat

The slow boat to Luang Prabang Laos down the Mekong River was pretty cool. The oriental style polished teak boat was great to see, and even better to be going down the river on. Although the boat was slow and moderately uncomfortable, the scenery was beautiful.  But back to the uncomfortable... the boat had two options for seating... the floor which was preferred or VIP seating or wooden bench seats. (Mind you that the boat ride consisted of (2) 8hr days). As we started down the river, Jake and I started scoping out where we could hang our hammocks from. We found some good ceiling joists and got them situated so we were partially hanging out over the side of the boat above the water... this was not only a great view but also had a nice breeze.

Despite the "I hate you and hope your hammock breaks and you fall in the water and drown" looks from the other uncomfortable passengers, we managed to rub it in a little more by breaking out a couple Big Beer Lao's to sip on.  It was an incredibly relaxing first day.  Day # 2, the rug was pulled out from beneath both of us... for some reason we changed boats. The new boats didn't have joists that we could hang the hammocks from and we were forced out of the super VIP hammock section into the wooden seats with the masses. Day 2 was a backbreaker, however we met two cool Canadians (Dave and Jan) that helped pass the time.

The Mekong River had little signs of civilization, other than a few small river villages. The boat must have doubled as a supply boat, because it carried bags of rice, chicken cages, and other supplies on the roof which we dropped off at the small river towns. Most didn't have power lines or any signs of roads leading to them, so I assumed they were pretty isolated. We we arrived at our destination Luang Prabang, which was more of a town than a large city.  So far it is a really cool town that seems to have a lot of French influence (used to be a French colony).  Dave, Jan, Jake, and I walked into town and found a nice guest house with a large balcony and a river view. The guesthouse was a whopping $3 for each of us and had to be one of the most ornately decorated guesthouse of our trip.  The house was completely trimmed out in varnished teak with large planks of wood that would have to cost loads of money at home. So far, Luang Prabang seems like a cool place to spend a couple days.

View from the balcony of our room

Thailand - Bangkok, Chiang Mai, Mae Hong Son Loop by Motorcycle

Bangkok was as one would expect -- a major urban city buzzing with activity, with lots of characters, scams, temples, with same amount of energy as a locomotive trapped inside a glass bottle.  The political situation was calm and there were no signs of protesters or army officials, which is basically what we were told to expect before we arrived.

We took every method imaginable to get around the city from river rides, to the urban overhead sky-train, down below on the underground MRT (subway), on three-wheeled gas powered scam loving Tuk Tuks, and on foot.  Jake and I quickly decided Bangkok wasn't our scene, but we did check out a few of the major attractions while we were there. 

We checked out a few of the famous Wats, or temples as we would call them, a few savory markets, and went to one of the world's largest snake farms. The snake farm is a research facility where anti-venom is studied and created. We also got to see a couple of insaneThai guys play with cobras.

Since Bangkok is the sex change capital of the world, there was no way we could miss the sex change factory.  Jake even opted to turn into a girl for a day since it was so cheap...while in Rome they say. Only kidding. 

After a couple of nights in the Khao San flea pit (the main backpacker area) we decided to head north to Chiang Mai on an overnight sleeper train.  It was a great and new experience as well as being an efficient way to travel and save a day by traveling at night. 

Chiang Mai is revered by the Thai for its cultural heritage and its salute to the old way of living. For us, it was just a break from dirty Bangkok.  One night we decided to go to a Mui Thai kickboxing match to watch a headline fight between a Myanmar and Thai guy.  Most of these guys were tiny, but had huge legs and threw some impressive blows.

Jake and I were joking as to whether we would get into the ring with these guys (the weight classes started at around 120lb and ended at 160lb), and after watching a few high kicks we were both like "no way" (little did I know that before the end of the night, Jake would enter the ring for two rounds). Later we spoke to one of the 130 lb kick boxers, and joked about getting into the ring... he said "no problem...I go see," and asked the ring announcer.  For 400 baht ($12) he lined Jake up for the next fight. After having several beers and some Thai rum, I knew better and was not about to let the liquid courage convince me that I could take a trained Thai kickboxer (even if he was 5ft 7in.), especially in my current state. 

Jake had some training and boxing experience and was eager to test his skills against one of the Thais so I made him sign his will over to me before entering the ring. Jake and the fighter agreed on the conditions: No Kicks, No elbows, No knees, and big gloves. I think he assumed Jake was going to be an in-experienced tourist, but figured out pretty quickly that he knew how to box. I have a good feeling that if there were kicks, elbows, and knees, Jake might have two black eyes and a concussion right now...but amazingly, he was able to go both rounds, dropping him on two separate occasions, and finish him off with an impressive flurry of jabs, crosses, and uppercuts. Pretty neat experience, crowd was into it, and not many can say that they got into a ring with a Muay Thai kickboxer for 2 rounds...especially to put the hammer down like Jake did.  Truely impressive.  Here's a video of the finish: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kUVCvUQ3dhQ

After doing some research on things to do in northern Thailand, Jake and I came across the Mae Hong Son loop, which is said to be one of South East Asia's motorcylce riding meccas.  The loop is probably the most popular riding route in Thailand.  Almost 600 km in total, the Mae Hong Son loop is also known as the road of 1000 hairpin bends. Besides exhilarating turns on well-paved roads, the loop passes through scenic mountain regions blessed with points of interest such as caves, waterfalls, national parks, hot springs, temples and hill tribe villages. 

Mae Hong Son Loop

This sounded like exactly the type of trip we needed to help us escape the heat and hustle of over-hyped Bangkok.  Anyhow, Jake and I found some "motorcyles", well in the US they are actually mopeds...but here 125cc is as large as you need and there are a lot smaller bikes all over the road.

Traffic here is interesting... driving on the left takes some getting used to mentally, and just the chaos of the road is daunting. Motorcycles can go between cars while stopped, and when you are driving it seems like there are always 10 thai motorcyclers zooming past you on all sides. Interesting to say the least. But they are definitely the way to get around.

 Our route took us counterclockwise from Chiang Mai to the laid back hippy enclave of Pai, then onto Mae Hong Son, and later skirting the Myanmar (formerly Burma) border to Mai Sariang, and finally back to Chiang Mai.  Northern Thailand was at one time well known for its large role in the world's opium trade, but has since substituted other cash crops in place of the poppy flower.  I bet the local farmers were excited when they found out they had to trade in their poppy plants for legit crops. 

The route from Chiang Mai to Mae Hong Son was built during WWII by the Japanese, who forced villagers to complete the road to allow better access to neighboring Burma. Burma was occupied by the British at the time and was later attackd by the Japanese.  Interesting stuff.

The Mae Hong Son loop provides a good opportunity to visit North Thailand’s rugged north-west frontier. This region of Thailand is also home to the famous Karen hill tribe. If the name does not ring a bell, the images of women with long necks adorned with brass rings would probably be more familiar.

Pai - Our first stop

During our first day in Pai, we went riding through the countryside to a local canyon which had some neatly carved out mountain tops used as trails.We then went to an elephant camp (elephants were a large part of the Thai culture and workforce before machines were popular) and were able to take the elephants down to the local stream and play. They were huge and the one they let us ride was even more massive than the others.



To get up on the elephant they lifted us up with their trunk onto their head and then we climbed the rest of the way up. The ride was basically bareback (on a small blanket), and quite scary as we had to be 8-10 ft up since there's nothing to hold onto.


Our elephant was constantly eating any plants it could find on the way to the stream and was playful when we got there.  We took turns sitting near his head and the trainer would yell a command for him to either spray us with water from his trunk or throw us off.  We got to feed the elephants as well, which basically felt like being groped by a wet vacuum cleaner. Pretty wild...

Getting tossed by an elephant is as fun as it looks

The food in Thailand is some of the best I've ever tasted without even exaggerating.  And this is coming from a guy who ate only PB&J's until I was 20 and started eating salad just a few years ago.  Jake and I decided to try a cooking class to learn how to prepare some of our favorite local meals in hopes of impressing our lady friends back home.  

First, we took a trip to a local market to gather the many ingredients.  The market had all kinds of food from fried chickens (including the heads, feet, you name it), to whole pig ears, wasp larvae, quail eggs, and lots of other vegetables, herbs, and spices.  We made 5 different dishes which included: Green Chicken Curry (the best), Tom Yam Soup (spicy prawn soup), Pad Thai, Stir-Fried veggies, and Sweet Sticky Rice with Coconut Milk and Mango for dessert.  It was ridiculously good and all made from scratch.  We discovered that we're such good cooks that we may even open our own Thai restaurant back home -- watch out Basil.     

Tomorrow we leave Pai to continue the rest of the loop which will take us only a few miles from the border with Burma.

Mae Hong Son to Mae Sariang and back to Chiang Mai


After two days in Pai,  we got back on the Mae Hong Son loop with the motorcycles and it was incredible. I had no idea that Northern Thailand would be such a motorcyclist's paradise. The roads were great by US standards, 1864 curves (perfect for the bikes... I have tons of video and pictures, but something is wrong with my camera at the moment and I'm unable to upload so here's a video from youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwkcuGjz0rc ).

The scenery was incredible.  Flooded rice fields with the most vibrant greens I've ever seen, surrounded in tall mist covered mountains...amazing.  It was a bit rainy, and would rain hard at least once per day, but we had rain gear (thankfully I am the son of an ever-prepared father who has never ventured outside without rain gear) and were often dried out quickly. It was a bit cold when we got to the tops of the mountains (50's F), but other than that it was spectacular. We went from Pai to Mae Hong Son, then to Mae Sariang... the further we went the less tourists we saw. Mae Sariang the level of English speaking locals went way down. The towns were a mix of Thai and a local mountain people "Karen" who were refugees from Burma. 

Next we are on to Laos...we have to catch a couple buses to Chaing Khong, then taking a  2 day slow boat down the mighty mud filled Mekong river (Southeast Asia's largest river) to Laos (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jD6lqFRIOO4). The scenery is supposed to be great and there's no better way to see the country than a slow boat through the country's heart.  The only problem is that the boats are generally overcrowded and the painfully uncomfortable especially with our abnormally large (at least in Asia) western body frames.  The boat is filled with rows of tiny, straight back, wooden bench seats of which we'll spend a masochistic total of 16 hours sitting on.   However, being the clever lads that we are, we bought cheap hammocks to hang up for the ride.  Will give an update once we get to Luang Prabang in Laos.