The last few days of Laos

Now I am desperately trying to update the blog before I either forget what happened or before I get home and never get around to it. As I have a flight home in 16 hours, time is not on my side, but here we go...

... So I got to Phonsavan where I was going to hang out for a few days for some time off the bike - I had done 4 days riding of which 3 were pretty long. Phonsovan as a town if pretty fugly, but it had a good atmosphere and I treated myself to the only 5 Star hotel in town at the lofty price of $40 a night. Hey Big Spender...

Anyway, the next day I went to the Plain of  Jars, three sites over about 40km with these big stone jars. They are UNESCO protected and the reasons for their existence are varied, but they are thought to be over 3000 years old and make for an interesting landscape.

The guide was not overly inspiring, in fact did not have much to tell us about the jars at all, but it was a good tour and gave my rear end a rest from the saddle. The driver we had took us to the bus stop where some of the guys wanted to get tickets for later on that day. Before we knew it we were playing drinking games with the locals at the bus station, drinking their local home made spirits they call Lao Lao... their version of whisky, made to 50% and only takes 2 weeks to ferment the rice. You can guess how great it tasted!

The next days was New Years Eve and I was going on the road back to Vientiane after 3 weeks. I was going to stop of half way in Vang Vien. The start of the ride was cold and wet and I was too stubborn to pull out my waterproof and warm gear - just used coffee instead. But after 100km or so, I came to a steep descent that saw me make my way down a couple thousand meters and onto the hot plains. I pulled into Vang Vien and did not like what I saw. The scenery surrounding was stunning but the town was swarming with semi-nude back packers who had things written across their chests like "2010 rave party tonight". It was as if I had stumbled across a completely different country and did not want anything of it. I made some half-hearted enquiries at hotels, but they were full. A tout asked me if I was looking for a room.I just blurted out "nah, I am going to Vientiane" before I really thought what I was saying. I had already done a full days ride, but I figured the road would be fast and it was 1:30pm. If I hammered it, I could make it in under 3 hours. The gas attendant told me it was 160KM, so with a tank of fuel I hit the road again, flying past everything, but also trying to be careful as I knew that this was the time in trips where accidents happen.
The closer I got to Vientiane, the busier it became until it was just a manic road full of car, trucks and bikes all vying for bits of the road. But after 2:30 hours I pulled up outside the hotel I had started from some 3000km earlier. Despite being NYE, they had one room free for one night only. Relieved I checked in and thought "but where should I stay tomorrow?"... after an hour or so I knew where I would be, having booked a ticket to Hanoi for the next day.
I wandered the streets that NYE and found most people sitting alone. It did not have a NYE vibe really and to be honest, after the trip I was pretty glad about it. I had some pizza and went to bed.
The next day I took the bike back to the rental shop (and highly recommend it if anyone wants a bike http://www.bike-rental-laos.com/) and had a good chat with Terry, the guy who ran the shop about the trip. Then it was back to the hotel, pack my bags and jump on a plane out of Laos.
It is always interesting flying over land that you are familiar with from the ground. Knowing the steepness of the hills, the dustiness and the climate, from the plane it really did not do justice.

Catching up on paperwork...

It has been a while since my last update on where I am or have been and to be honest I have no idea when I last updated, but that is all cool, I will just make assumptions...
So at the moment I am in Hanoi. I got here on New Years Day and it was a big shift from Laos where even the captial Vientiane seemed like a rural town in comparison. Here is it manic with the traffic everywhere and at first you wonder how anyone gets about... but before I get on to Vietnam, I will try and recap where I have been since Christmas,which I am pretty sure was when I last updated my whereabouts.

Wiring in Hanoi leaves something to ponder over

So after Luang Prabang I headed to the west, with Viang Xai as my destination. The scenery in the north east is phenomenal and I probably had the best views on the whole trip on Boxing Day as the little 250 climbed up some steep and rough mountain roads. It was one of those perfect days for riding, well it was until things started going wrong.
As you may have read in one of my previous posts, someone had fiddled with my bike when I was in Luang Prabang. Well it seems that it was more than just steal a bolt from the handle bars. Here I was on a real roller-coaster of a hill, up 2000m and all of a sudden the engine lost all its torque. I had checked the oil and air filters that morning so I knew that they were OK, but I am not mechanic and had no idea what was wrong with it. I kind of knew that it was something to do with the carb (bike type, not diet) but that was the extent of my expertise. I asked people on the hills, but not speaking Laos and them not being up with the gestures of charades, they just tried to give me petrol or oil. So I nursed by bike for 140km at speeds of around 15km/h up and down this magnificent scenery until I got to the town I was aiming for. On the way some bikes with Italian registration plates zoomed by. By the time I got to the town I saw their bikes pulled up outside a hotel, so pulled in and got talking to them.Two of them spoke some English and as it turned out one of the riders was a mechanic. With all the passion of a full blooded Italian he jumped on my bike without me having to make a request, talking to me all the time in Italian, believing that his emphatic hand gestures would ensure that I understood what he was saying. His friends translated.
First thing we had to do was get some more oil because the bike had burnt through the entire content as I tried to get it over these hills. We rolled the bike through the night air looking for a mechanic that was still open. We found one and set to work. Well, I should say he did. I tried to translate one language I did not understand (Italian) into another I did not understand (Laos). The Italian wanted oil and could not understand why the other mechanic was pointing to the bike and asking questions in Laos. So the Italian took out the dip stick and pointed to it. The Laos guy just sniffed at it. I am sure that the Italian thought that he was the village idiot and the Laos mechanic probably thought that the Italian had found a poppy field. I just pointed to an empty bottle of oil to the Lao mechanic and held up different fingers to the Italian to ask what type of oil. So when the Laos guy brought out oil the Italian looked at it and then started off in Italian, wagging his finger at the Laos guy saying that it was the wrong one. Then he just shrugged his shoulders and poured it in anyway.
He cranked up the engine, heard that it did not sound right and then reached down, found some small knob I had not noticed and tweaked.That was it.The bike sounded right. I test rode and it was great. Kind of felt dumb, but also glad that my bike at home is fuel injection.
That night we all went out for a pretty below par meal even by Laos standards, but had some fun.
The next day I rode with them for the first 50km until we went our seperate ways and I headed on to Xam Neua. It was a long ride, tiring with all it's moutain bends despite being sealed. It all seemed to be going well until all of a sudden my real wheel locked up. I pulled the bike up (luckily I was not going very fast) and at first glance the chain looked fine. But then I got off and discovered somehow the camera had had come loose and swung back, got caught by the rear wheel and had jammed between the tyre and suspension. It was pretty messy. The rest of that day it made me ponder - I think that I had always used photography as the excuse to travel - the idea of having no constructive purpose to the trip was beyond me. I am the last person to find sitting on a beach. But here I was with my main camera, that was a pain in the arse but took the most exquisit photos, out of action. It kind of forced me to look at the trip in a different light.

Improvising an emergency brake on a Honda XR 250 with a 30 year old camera...

I never said that it was pretty or reusable...

I made to Vieng Xai. It is a beautiful area, with almost no tourists, nestled between great limestone pinnacles and hills. It was here that the headquarters were for the Pathet Lao, hidden in caves whilst the USA waged their secret war against them. It is hard to imagine nowadays that a secret war could occur where more bombs were dropped on this one small nation than all the bombs dropped over Europe during the entire second world war. Amazingly the Laos show absolutely no resentment towards the USA, most were confused as to why a country they had never heard of wanted to destroy them.
I took a tour around the caves and when you start to put into perspective how rudimentry their guerilla fighting was compared to what the USA had at hand, it appears like a phenomenal achievement. The unfortunate thing with the tours I have found in this region is that they are very one sided and biased, but that does not matter in the end.

One of the caves used by the Pathet Laos, this one for the military where they would watch across the small plane for US bombers coming in and then try to gun them down.

 

I like this sign at the entrance to the cave that Kaysone Phom Vihanh, the man who led the revolution and leader of the Pathet Laos against the Americans, resided for 9 years. Wonder what he would make of the advert...

I took a drive up the road to the Vietnamese border. Originally I had wanted to buy a bike so I could cross over, but in the end I rented one, which was probably a better thing given the reliability of non-Japanese bikes. I rode back to Xam Neua and after checking in wandered through the food markets. I tell you, these guys eat anything. I always find the meat section interesting. aside from the regular rat, there was squirrel, moles (dead and live), birds of all description and then in pride of place, with head included, dog. You only really see bitches in towns and now I knew why. I had already seen a couple of villagers walking with a dog on a bamboo spit, but this market was something else. I decided against posting a picture of them.
Next morning I pack up my belongings and headed on to Phonsavan where the Plain of Jars stood. It was a long but straight forward ride, the first 100km retracing my steps from two days earlier...

Is there anything you can't buy from a local Market?

Daniel Alexander-HeadWell, you can't buy regular stuff, but if you want a butchered dog
(including the head), live moles or counterfeit US money, a market in
Laos may be your thing. Shame the notes are only printed on one side...

Dressing for the occasion

Someone appears to have stolen a bolt from my handlerbar protectors whilst I was in Luang Prabang. The people at the hotel are off looking for a replacement and so whilst they are off doing that, I thought that I would write another post. This time I thought that I would talk about what I actually wear on a trip like this as I pack relatively light.
After a few different bike trips and some research you learn quickly the importance of being dressed appropiately for both environment, culture and riding type. One of my first trips a few years back was to Fraser Island. I was totally unprepared for it. It was the height of summer and I was wearing a jacket with no ventilation. The heat was up to 45 degrees on this trip and so if I was not drowning in my own sweat, I was riding without a jacket on. This created a messy situation when I was descending a steep sand section on the bike and I came off. Landing on sand is pretty good by bike standards, except where they have re-enforced matting underneath to prevent erosion from 4wd. That resulted in a bloody gashed-graze on my arm.
So I bought a highly ventilated jacket for summer which was good in some ways, but the problem with too much ventilation is that you actually overheat in extreme conditions. How?!? Basically your body needs to perspire to cool down. When you have too much ventilation it does not allow for perspiration. Whilst externally you can feel ok, your core temperature can increase. So the trick is to allow some ventilation so that you can perspire and the breeze that comes through cools you. I eventually bit the bullet and bought a BMW Rallaye suit, like the ones they use for the Dakar rallaye. Yep they are expensive, but worth every cent when you are wearing it day in, day out for weeks or months at a time. Actually I reckon with it's durability it is better value than most clothes, just not that great to wear when flying intercontinental. I could go on for hours about it, but you would just be better off trying one instead.
As for what I wear under the suit, anyone who knows me will be aware of my obsession for merino clothing. Light, compact and will keep you cool or warm even when wet, is a good start. The fact you can wear it for days on end before it needs washing or smells and feels great just adds to the qualities. There are a few brands out there, but personally I think the New Zealand company Icebreaker makes the best. T-shirts, underwear (long johns are great to wear whether hot or cold), socks and jumpers... as far as I am concerned it beats the hell out of man made materials.
Feet - a pair of solid motorcross boots are great. I have come across other riders wearing sneakers or army boots, but these offer no protection from the elements or in an accident. Like the suit, they are a pain in the proverbial to walk around in, but a dream on (or stuck under in an accident) the bike.
I met a guy who said that his first day was spent in tears from all the dust. He was kicking himself for not having any goggles. Sunglasses don't stop the dust getting in and offer little protection from stones being kicked up by other vehicles. Add a motorcross helmet to allow plenty of ventilation and a visor for early morning and late afternoon sun and apart from riding gloves, that is about it.
Because merino is so versatile, I only carry one spare set. Throw in a pair of shoes and shorts and that is everything I need to wear.

When the greater good dictates not to take the photo, no matter how perfect it appears.

I thought that I would spend some of my Christmas Day in Luang Prabang taking photos. I certainly have not taken many since being in Laos and definitely not on my Rollei SL66.
For those of you who have no idea what that is, it is a large studio camera that is 30 years old, bulky as hell and due to a lifetime of work, no longer the reliable machine it probably once was. Sort of the opposite of me, at least in some ways. This has not been helped by the fact that since I have owned it, it has found itself thrown into a helicopter in the Himilayas, carried in numerous backpacks on treks in places such as Nepal and New Zealand, strapped to a camel in Rajasthan that promptly sat on it at the first opportunity and then more recently attached to the back of a motorbike as I rode on dirt tracks firstly around Asutralia and now here in Laos. Why do I even carry something that is unreliable, cumbersome, requires a seperate light meter and as one person pointed out "does not even have a zoom lens", not to mention that it is now near impossible to buy film for it anymore? Because it takes photos that digital cameras cannot match. Well, unless you have a spare $40,000 that is. Alas it will probably be the last trip I use it on before I succumb to buying a digital SLR.
But that is not what I really wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about were some of the issues, dilemas, moral difficulties if you will, that are faced with taking photos in places like this.
The problem starts with the fact that this is a UNESCO town. That does not mean you can't take photos, it is actually quite the opposite. The problem is that everyone is taking photos. So when this happens locals become savy to it and will not let you take their photo unless you pay them or buy something from them. You can take a photo without permission, but as far as I am concerned that is like "borrowing someones wife without permission", if you get what I mean. So permission must be sough else problems with trust arise.
But what if they want money? I do believe that in some instances something should be given, after all I am taking something of theirs. I am against giving money as I believe it creates an unhealthy environment. In the good old days when film was the prefered medium of photographers, I use to carry polaroid film and give my subjects a photo of themselves. For a lot of people I shot that had never seen a photo of themselves, the value, both financially and sentimentally, was far greater than that cash I would have given them, particularly when you bear in mind that a single polaroid would cost around $3 compared to the cash that they would have wanted of about $0.50. Sometimes buying services from them, such as produce, is a way to gain permission without either party feeling ripped off. That is what happened this morning when a street vendor initially refused to let me take their photo unless I bought some of their food, which incidentally was very good.
My dilema today was when I was coming down the steps of a temple in the middle of the town. Here were traders selling their wares and goods. There was a hunched old lady selling small raten cages with baby birds for visitors to set free at the top of the temple. It would have made one of the finest photos of the trip, but I could not take the photo. This goes back to the dilema. I would have had to ask permission (my personal belief) and she would have said no - she was there to make money. If I offered her money for her photo then I would be setting a precedent that she would harrass other passers for the same. If I had offered to pay for her birds I would be encouraging a trade growth in something that I believe is wrong - the birds will probably not survive at their age without their mother, let alone a belief that birds should not be caged. So it was with some disappointment that I had to walk on as she harassed another passer by on his way up to the temple to buy her birds. But I do believe that it was the right decision.
It is hard taking photos in these sorts of towns where they are use to tourists. They want money, and why not? For me though it is back to the remote villages where I can trade some interaction and conversation for a photo and everyone feels that they have gained a lot more than in these towns.

Christmas morning in Luang Prabang