Thailand: 15th - 28th Noveomber 2013

Thursday 28th November 2013 – Patang, Phuket – Thailand

Finally gave up on shopping for new shoes for Tall one – the hunt had just become too hopeless and depressing amongst such a small shoed nation. Two loud mouthed westerners stopped us on the street trying to sell something to us, we were so used to only having Thai street sellers it took us a little while longer to ignore them – to which they accused us of being Australians? Had lunch in The Pizza Company and shared a pizza and salad. One of the young Thai waiters had a small mole on his cheek which had two wirey hairs about 2 inches long hanging out of it – we wondered why on earth he wouldn't have chopped them off, especially when working in a restaurant. Had a walk up the beach, but did not get a sleeper bed today as it was so overcast. Due to the wind the parasailing was being done differently, they could not have the second person holding on to the ropes of the sail to guide it like the previous days, so the tourist had to go up alone and be lowered into the ocean when the time was up. Went back to the Hotel to be greeted by the usual receptionist woman who was mysteriously manically laughing at us (this had become the norm though). Spent most of the day sorting out our admin work for travels, including booking India trips, editing our Wedding video and rebooking our Thailand taxi to the airport as we had booked going by the original flight time tomorrow (of 2.15pm) and not the changed flight time (of 10.30am), so was lucky we had the reminder email or we'd have missed the flight. After 7pm we hit the streets of Patong one last time, having an expensive meal in Molly Malone's, then along the beach to buy another paper lantern to let into the night's sky. Was a bit windy, and so the Thai woman couldn't get the lantern to light and heat up enough to float up – in the end she ran off down the beach with it and threw it up in the air – we watched from the beach a bit confused as she went, though in fairness she got it up in the air. It floated crookedly over the ocean for 2 minutes and then caught fire in a ball of flames and crashed down into the water – Small one's wish he sent up with it didn't go down to well.

That was the end of our last day in Thailand, and summed up our trip in the country – an irritating, expensive failure. We only had 3 good days of weather (all in Patong), but the weather wasn't to blame on the trip. The prices just seemed to have inflated so much even since are last trip 2 years ago – beach sellers wanting $4 (New Zealand dollars) for 2 lousy doughnuts (they'd cost 50 cents back in Wellington), our main meal cost $12-15 each – which is the same we'd spend in Wellington, Molly Malone's even wanted 69 Baht for a bottle of water ($3??). Take us back to Cambodia where a bottle of water was 10 cents, Hotel rooms were $10 not $30, and a main meal was only a few dollars. Though we guess inflation was bound to happen considering how heavily trafficked the streets are with tourists – though we doubt that the business' cost of stock or staff wages have gone up, so only presume some greedy owner is getting all these profits from the prices having doubled. Every time we even browsed for something or went on a tour someone was there trying to rip us off – pricing shoes we were told they were 1,700 Baht ($70 NZD?!!), and after 5 minutes arguing he came down to 700 Baht.... If it wasn't the over pricing it was people charging for every possible extra when it should have been included. Anyway enough moaning.....oh, hang on I forgot about the hoards of drunk or smug tourists.... This trip has put us off coming back, which is a shame as it is a lovely country.

Wednesday 27th November 2013 – Patang, Phuket – Thailand

Tried the Tiger Hotel's own breakfast downstairs today, it was pretty awful, and that chubby Thai lady who seems always behind the reception is as mad as a hatter. We headed to the beach after a KFC lunch and went back to the same spot as two days ago. The same young 6 year old Thai boy was sweeping the sand off the sleeper beds as before, and we wondered why he was not in school. The beach was boiling and we were lucky with anther sunny day. Sweat was dripping off us as small one was trying to tan his ghost white back, having so far only managed to roast his front. The old men in thongs were out in force, and the same frantic parasailing was going on, which was virtually non-stop landing on the beach infront of us.

Back at 4pm and we handed in our laundry downstairs, which was 70 Baht per KG. The mad woman at reception said she was taking it home to wash at her house, she did not have any scales to weigh it for the price, so her and another cleaner took turns in throwing the bag up and down in the ai and catching it, until they agreed on 5kg..... right, so we just went with that. We headed out for dinner, and looked for tall ones shoes on the way, finding only the exact same market stalls selling the exact same tat around town. We managed to find a decent up market shopping mall (Big C?), most trainers were over $50 (and this is meant to be cheap Thailand), the one pair we found cheap they did not have the size big enough for Tall ones feet.

Found The Irish Times Pub in the same square, which was a surreal experience sat inside a well decked out Irish pub chain, with Whisky Galore playing, a huge Beef and Guinness Pie on the menu, and then being served by Thai staff. As we'd walked in through the doors the first thing we heard was the words “IRA!” playing on the current tune. We ate too much and small one was bloated. Walking back to the hotel thunder and rain hit us, but we kept walking until we got back drenched to our skin. During the rain storm suddenly Thai locals appeared from nowhere selling umbrellas and raincoats – they must be waiting at home all day and all week waiting for these rain storms. Despite the fact we were wet through they still tried to sell to us, we had to keep telling them that they were too late. Back the Hotel the crazy woman at reception laughed her head off as we trudged through the Hotel, she started doing a bizarre wave to us. We dried off and went to bed.

Tuesday 26th November 2013 – Phuket, Phang Nga Bay Trip – Thailand

After a hideous, grease dripping breakfast in Burger King, were collected in a Minibus at the end of our road and headed back to the east side of Phuket island to Ao Por Pier – for a day boat tour around Phang Nga Bay. Picked up a few other people, including a large man from Bahrain, and an eccentric couple from Saudi Arabia. The driver was pulled over by the traffic police on route, and we had to wait for 15 minutes while presumably he was given a speeding ticket.

An hour's driving and we were dropped at the pier where it was virtually a tourist circus, with mini buses and bum bags everywhere. This was the first tour we'd actually taken ont his trip, having visited all sights by ourselves before (all be it some of them tourist attractions) we'd forgotten what it was like travelling with a tour. We boarded a double decker boat and then sat and waited for 45 minutes for 5 late comers. There was about 80 people on board, and only seemed to be 9 life jackets. We were given free bananas, free pots of water and free paper cones of a green or red fruit drink. Was a mixed bag of tourists, some goldie oldie Aussie OAPs, some young Aussies, some Russians, large group of Japanese fammilies, lots of Middle Easterns. The boat had a small crew, including two lady boys – one with his/her face painted chalky white (we presume this is a kind of sun protection thing).

Each couple/group were given an orange sticker with their number on, we were number 6 (I am not a number.... I am a free man). We were very lucky with the weather again and set off in blue skies and a baking hot sun. Some amazing scenery around Phang Nga Bay, with huge lime scale rocky outcrops and island chains – strange formations like giant broken teeth scattered throughout the ocean to grow mouldy with greenery. Took lots of photos, but noticed that the young Saudi Arabian couple (who were sticker number 7) were also taking photos – only the girl was only taking photos of her own face. She sat with an enourmous floppy hat, large movie star sunglasses , chunky necklace and with her camera phone she'd hold it at arms length and pose with a smile, or blow a kiss at her own camera phone and take a photo – she'd then look at it and repeat the process. It was funny at first, but then she kept doing it, and doing it and doing it – it then became quite a scary self obsession – and for the best part of an hour she took endless photos of her face without any exaggeration at all.

We escaped from the mad capped antics by going to the deck below and sitting on the front of the boat deck along with a young Muslim couple, who Tall one was pleased to see had the same plastic Casio F-91W digital watch as him. Our first island stop was Panak Island, and we were called out in numbers and sent out on some inflatable pink kayaks with a Thai guide (who had all arrived on a separate boat). We had a 19 year old lad who then took us around the island, through some very low lying water caves, past some large mangrove trees growing out the water and next to a group of monkeys sitting on rocks by the water (one swimming in the water). The next stop was Hong Island, which had a large rock formation standing in the middle of the bay. We again were taken out by the same lad and explored some caves, and then were told by the boat crew to make sure we gave him a tip – we gave him 40 Baht which he didn't seem over the moon about.

We were running an hour behind as we left the pier so late, and so we were all starving. They laid out the free buffet lunch, salads, rice, fried runner beans and fried carrots, fried chicken, onion rings, and pasta dishes. Small one asked the lady boy in charge what did no have any fish/fish oils or seafood/oyster sauce in due to his allergy. He said that they only used a little bit of oyster sauce in the pasta, so it should be okay he thinks.... Small one asked what else had oyster or fish saue in, and he said that everything was fried together, and that the rice dishes (except one plain rice dish) all had oyster sauce as well. The lady boy then called up women and children only to the food – who took ages to fill their tiny plastic, school dinner like plates. Small one got fed up of waiting and pushed in with them to make sure he got some of the (few) fish free dishes – this caused a few tuts from the old Australian women. Small one then enjoyed his small plain rice and salad, and then Tall one got his pile of food. At the buffet table a very big Aussie lad wearing swim shorts with his arse crack hanging out the back queued for a second helping and filled his plate with an immense pile of food. He walked around being the big cocky lad travelling with a petite Thai girl who everybody presume was a prostitute. Though we noticed that they were both infact wearing matching wedding rings, the crew joked with them knowingly that “are you on your honeymoon”.

The third stop was Khao Phing Kan aka James Bond Island. This was were the Roger Moore / Christopher Lee 1974 Bond movie, Man with the Golden Gun was filmed. We were ferried across in a long boat where we found absolutely hoards of tourists as well as tourist tat stalls. It was so crowded it was a bit vague where we had to walk, and we ended up walking into the island's security office – until we were shooed out again.  The otherside of the bay was a small beach near the large caves and cliffs, and in this separate bay was the distinctive rock formation that narrowed at the base out in the water (inconically used in the movie). We had only been given 20 minutes here by the time we landed and so headed back. Briefly speaking to a young, quiet American couple who we took a photo for – and who asked us incessant questions about our travels. Once everyone was back on the boat the lady boy called out all our numbers to check we were all back, we soon discovered that everyone but No. 7 was back – and we remembered that this was the Saudi Arabian couple, with the girl who took too many photos of herself. Half an hour later they arrived on a long boat to which they were the only passengers in the 30 odd seats. They boarded sheepishly, and must have got lost on the island or got on the wrong boat.

Back on board we headed to our last island, Nakae Island. Here we anchored down and were given some pineapple and melons to eat. Most passengers went swimming in the bay, jumping from the top of the boat. Small and Tall stayed sat on the front deck of the boat, and from there we could hear an interesting conversation of the big Aussie lad and his Thai 'bride'. They were sat on the deck above us and he was telling her that, “I have really bad pains in my penis, everytime I piss it's like razor blades – I think its an STD.... if you have anything, if you gave it to me you can tell me now, the girl told him she has nothing to which his response was, “well somebody gave it to me”. He was now no longer the cocy lad from earlier, and this dejected, sorrowful worried fella with a hurt penis.  Perhaps those wedding rings are just props after all.

The boat then headed back for the 40 minute ride back to the pier. After we set off the lady boy host turned the microphone on and proceeded to blow his nose – which the sound carried down the speakers to everybody. He then told us about how he became a lady boy and about his life, and also how there was another lady boy on board (the one with the white face) who was going to dance for us all, and then we can all put money in the tip jar for the crew and for the lady boys as it is a very hard life (as she explained in her story). Some hideous club music then came on the speakers (they had played this earlier in the day as well which was another reason why we moved downstairs) the white faced lady boy then arrived in a tight black dress and stood in the middle of the boat deck and gyrated his hips back and forth. He then went around all the poor men on the boat and tried to lap dance or kiss them. Some people were really not too keen on this, if wed wanted to see a lady boy show we'd have gone to a lady boy bar – we'd only signed up to go out and see some islands?? Some of the old Aussie men loved it and got all the photos of them having their faces rubbed in the lady boys tits. He tried to dance on Tall one, but he just sat with his legs crossed and waited patiently for him to move on somewhere else. One of the 16 year old Japanese boys with his large family was well up for it, and got up and danced with him pushing some baht notes down his bra. The quiet American lad at the back of the boat hid behind his girlfriend with his arms wrapped around her so he would not be harassed (Which seemed to work). Thankfully it was all over after 15 minutes and we declined to tip.

Made it back to the pier as the sun was setting over the bay. As we got off the boat we noticed the young Muslim couple had stopped just off the pier, and the young man (with the Casio watch) had his mat down and was praying. Tall one was looking up his make of watch later that evening and found an article on Wikipedia that said that “documents used to train staff in assessing the threat level of new detainees advise that possession of the Casio F-91W (available online for as little as £4) suggests the wearer has been trained in bomb making by al-Qaida in Afghanistan”. This isn't the reason Tall one wears the watch, he just found it in the Lost and Found at one of his old jobs.

Back on the minibus at 6.30pm (the driver had been waiting 2 hours), and we were soon joined by the Bahrain man and the 'No.7' Saudi couple with their interesting face photos. Made it back to Patong town around 7.30pm and ate out in the Pizza Company where we shared a decent pizza and salad.

Monday 25th November 2013 – Phuket, Thailand

Headed out at 8.30am for breakfast, up the far end of town and down the deserted Ping Pong show streets and found a set breakfast each. The weather today was sunny with some clouds, and was scorching hot. The beach was packed and we paid 100 Baht each for a sleeper bed with umbrella. Spent the day being approached by every type of peddler on the beach, people trying to sell you everything from tattoos, pineapples, doughnuts (2 for $4??!!), wooden elephants & motorbikes, sunglasses, ice creams and baskets shaped like elephants. The ocean in front of us gradually got closer to our beds with the tide approaching. Various Thai salesmen with leather like skin set up their own stalls or umbrella with large flag poles in front of us – they then went about selling either jet ski rides or para sailing trips.

The para sailing trips were quite dramatic to watch, as the tourists was strapped into the parachute and towed round the ocean by speedboat, whilst one of the local Thais hung behind them on the parachute holding on only to the strings with his arms. They'd then swing back round and the parachute would fly low over all all beds and the Thai fella would jump don from the parachute to stop the tourist and let them out. The jet skis went everywhere it he water, cutting all through the swimmers – a group of Japanese were mad for it. They paired off and paid for 3 jet skis between the three of them, but not one of the was able to get on to it, let alone drive it – so a Thai local had to get on with each pair and drive them around the ocean. When they got back they all jumped out excited and got photos of them sat on the jet ski with their pale pigeon chests puffed out while they held up the peace sign with their fingers.

We gradually got more and more sunburnt throughout the day. Small one drank bottles of water and become quite close friends with the toilet attendant because of it (5 Baht a pee). A small Thai boy came round once an hour with a wooden brush broom to sweep the sand from our beds and feet. The beach remained very busy all day (probably due to the fact it was the first sunny day for weeks). There was a real circus selection of tourists, from the one random topless girl walking up and down the beach, to the super over weight tourists who thought it best to wear speedos or even a thong (though in fairness their stomachs covered anything too revealing).

Back to the Hotel at 4pm, and small one showered first, followed by Tall one. Just as Tall one had shampooed up ad was covered with suds, the water dried up completely and he was left stood covered and dripping with shampoo. Small one investigated and was told a different reason by each member of staff (our pump has broke.... water is out all over town.... our water tank is empty). Small one did acquire two large bottles of water which Tall one then used to rinse himself off. Water still not not return by 8pm, and they could not even flush the toilet.

Headed out for diner, small one sporting his cherry red face. The Pizza place was tempting thought the 8 members of staff who stood outside it insisted on virtually reading the menu out to us, so we kept walking. Molly Malone's again provided us with a very good jacket potato and some chicken wings as we watched the sun set over the beach (though their orange juice was $4!!). Walked into the town to look for shoes for Tall one and was pestered by every shop front seller, and not just asked questions, they were literally blocking our path or even grabbing our arms to try and get us to eat in their cafe or get a massage. Down the main tourist strip a Thai man holding an unhappy Iguana lizard along his arm approached Tall one, and just started to put the thing on to Tall one's shoulder.  Tall one kept saying 'no thankyou... no thankyou' and kept walking,b ut the man walked behind him and managed to get the Iguana on his back and started shouting “get photo get photo!”. Before Tall one could answer a tourist policeman appeared on a bike and the man grabbed the lizard and ran down a side alley, along with another 4 sellers all carrying Iguanas??? There was also a man holding a terrified bush baby, though he didn;t seem as bothered by the policeman.

We brought some shampoo on a buy 1 get 1 free offer in a Boots Pharmacy we found, and then walked back down the beach in the dark. We brought one of the paper lanterns we'd seen last night, and light the flame underneath and set it off into the sky. We realized that the metal frameworks were what swimmers had been dragging out of the ocean all morning and had bee wondering what it was they;d found. Back to the hotel and found the water was still not working, but at least now the wifi was.


Sunday 24th November 2013 – Phuket, Thailand

Packed our bags and showered in the rusty bath tub by the moldy mirror. Wondered the streets still slipping on the wet paths in our flips flops. Found that most cafes had their doors open and signs out, but when we went in they said they were closed (at 9am?). Found a nice small cafe in the end and small one had poached eggs with avocado, and tall one had french bread. Tall one tried shoe shopping to replace his lost trainers, a little old Thai lady said they only had size 11 (not size 12), but tried convinging Tall oen that the shoes would stretch. We then decided to catch a local bus over to the west coast to the busy beachside town of Patong. Tuk Tuk driver's had quoted us 600 Baht for the two of us (its only 15 km away), but we found a local bus for only 30 Baht each. It was a crowded open topped bus, with locals travelling with their bags of rice. Dropped off at the beach after a 40 minute ride, we were shocked when the sun came out for the first time in Thailand.

The beach was packed, as were the streets. We wondered around pricing hotels, which all seemed to be hundreds of dollars per night. You could nto walk two steps without some local fella asking you, “where you going.... you want Tuk Tuk.... you going to Phi Phi?..... you going to airport?..... you going to Cambodia??”. We sat up a quiet side alley in the Tiger Residence bar and hotel, they had a decent room, which was cheap, but no outside area or window in the room. Small one left Tall one with a beer and went for a wonder for better hotels. He came back reporting that the place was full of prostitutes, one of them showing him her tattooed gums asking him if he wanted anything. We decided to just book in to the Tiger Residence, and bartered the young Thai waiter down to 700 Baht a night (from 1000 Baht), though he wanted a 100 Baht tip for doing this, so didn't seem like a legit discount.

The room was quite nice – with slate walls, air con, good wifi – though no windows. We dozed off until 9pm when we awoke starving, having not eaten anything since breakfast. Hit the streets at night and found them full of people. Ended up in Molly Malone's Irish Pub and had an amazing, huge Pork Roast with Crackling. There was loads more western restaurants here than Khao San Road, and a much nicer, cleaner atmosphere. Lonely Planet had painted Patong out to be a seedy, dirty nightmare, but from the srea we are in we can see a range of tourists, most of them seeming to be famlies, middle aged couples and even old aged couples – all be it that they are walking amongst lady boys and Thai prostitutes, but the feel of the place (at least at this southern end of Patong) was clean, safe and friendly. The beaches too were packed, and as we ate in Mollys we watched people on the beach lighting and setting off floating candle lanterns into the night's sky.

Saturday 23rd November 2013 – Koh Tao > Phuket, Thailand

Out of bed, showered and packed and outside Reception for 4.45am. Clive was there in full colourful form, laughing his head off at how mad we were for taking the 5am boat which was probably cancelled. He drove us through the dark to the pier, where we hunted around for sight of our boat. Clive said the boat should be here already as it would have  got in last night. There was no sign of the boat or any other passengers waiting. In the end we found someone to ask who told us the storm stopped the boat leaving last night, but a different, bigger boat would be coming and would leave at 9.30am. Clive still hung around, and managed to get some potential customers from a different Night Boat that arrived from Chumpong. An American fella looking for long term, a sceptical english girl on her own, and an Irish couple who didn't seem like morning people and the girlfriend was busy throwing up from the bumpy journey. Clive took the four of them away and we headed up the street and sat outside Cafe De Sol to use their free wifi and wait for them to open – this was the place we'd first stopped at for breakfast the morning we arrived. When they opened we had a decent fry up breakfast.

Went back to the pier at 9am to find our replacement boat at 9.30am. We arrived to find a huge queue going out of the shop and into the street to queue up and get a proper ferry and bus ticket. The original service we booked (and woke up at 4am for) was 6am depart Koh Tao and arrive Phuket at 2.30pm. This one stated depart Koh Tao at 9.30am and arrive Phuket 5.30pm, both advertised as one boat and one bus.... this wouldn't prove very correct.

The queue was caused by the backlog from the cancelled boats, but it moved steady enough. After we collected our tickets we joined the next very logn queue leading up the pier to get on the catamaran boat. It then started to absolutely piss down hard with rain, people were pushing and scrambling to get under the shelters but remain in the queue – the shelter didn't matter as the rain blew in from both sides and everyone and their bags were drenched. We boarded the moderate sized boat which had a capacity of 400 people. The ground level had rows of plastic chairs, and at the front was a small stage were the staff literally threw people's backpacks. A couple of hundred backpackers (all passengers were backpackers) boarded and the bags were stacked to the ceiling and all up some of the aisles, mostly blocking the emergency exits and the TV screens.

It took an hour for the long queue of backpackers to board and the boat set off. Within 10 minutes when we were outside the relatively calm waters of the island bays, we realized why Clive had said we were crazy taking the boat. The waves were suddenly huge, and the boat was rolling up and down, side to side, out of one window you could only see water, the other side only sky, then it would rock back the other way. The boat then launched off the waves, and you could feel in your seat the felling of weightlessness as the front of the boat left the wave and crashed down back into the water. Each time it went over one of these big waves and thudded down the otherside, the sound of the metal hull hitting the water was hideous – along with the wall of water that covered the boat. This was relentless, and everybody looked scared shitless. When you could see the sky it was mostly large ominous black storm clouds overhead. A mother next to us was in tears clutching her baby which was shrieking with fear. Couples were holding each other in their arms. Thhe Thai staff walked around with clam faces, telling eveyrone “not dangerous” and handing out black plastic sick bags for people. On the TV screens they were playing 'Just for Laughs' the hidden camera show were people were playing tricks on the general public – one of which where a man stood by a Lazy River swimming resort and pretend to piss on people as they drifted by on rubber rings. Not many passenger's were laughing though. The air con units above our heads were flooding as well, so anybody underneath was getting drenched as water poured out on to the floor and chairs.

This went on for about an hour and a half and we somehow made it into Koh Pha-Ngan. Here we disembarked and were due to change to another boat (a smaller one with half the capacity) to go on to the main land. Small one was not sure if he wanted to go on after that, but we decided it would be better to go on and get the journey out the way incase the weather got worse. The Thai staff unloaded bags from the boat, and threw them along a chain of Thai staff and then to some poor fella on the dock who had to catch them before they fell into the ocean. We grabbed or bags and soon our boat had been replaced by the smaller one. We boarded this one and sat at the back of the boat this time, and were near the back exits. This journey wasn't anywhere near as bad, we presume as it followed more closely the protected coast of the chain of islands. We even had a cup of tea, which they gave us in a cup without a lid – which seemed a strange choice when your on a boat trip that's so bumpy. We found out later that Thailand had been hit by Tropical Cyclone 'Lehar'.

After a brief stop in Koh Samui, we made it to the mainland at Do Nsak Pier. After we dismabrked in the pissing rain and grabbed our bags – we were hustled on to a large coach and told this would take us to Suratthani. An hour later we were dropped off (again in a torrential down pour) on a busy street. Ushered into a shop front where a tubby Thai woman told us to wait here for the next bus to Phuket. Two large northern English lads finished a carrier bag of Leo Beer and left a stack of empties on the table, they then went across to the Family Mart shop and came back with another carrier bag full of cans and proceeded to drink them – one of them saying that “we may as well by a bottle of 'voddy' and get blathered on the bus”. Small one went next door to a cafe and ordered two of their burgers to takeaway, he asked what type they were and they said 'beefburgers'. He was then handed two buns filled with a cm thick piece of very pale meat. Small one showed her the burger he had been handed and asked what type of meat if was, to which she told him “chicken, only have chicken burgers”. They serve the burgers to you with a bundle of pink toilet roll underneath, which is a bad sign as to what they think the food will do to you.

The bus to Phuket did onto show up for another hour and a half, and backpackers were complaining. It turned up at 5pm and we were again ushered on board by the tubby Thai lady. Tall and Small sat at the front behind the driver and his driver's mate. These two Thai fellas were a strange, slightly aggressive pair. It was another 5 hour bus trip to Phuket and they did not stop for any toilet break. When the big English lads kept asking, they literally just shooed them away saying “no no, go sit go sit”. When one of them stood on the driver's mate chair to try and get out, the driver smacked the lads leg and said “no no no”. The bus stopped on route and collected half a dozen locals and 2 monks – but there were no seats left so they all had to just stand in the aisle.

We had originally booked to arrive 2.30pm, and then had to change to the service arriving 5.30pm, and now we did not arrive in Phuket until 10.30pm... it had been a long day. We had paid for a ticket to drop us in Phuket Town, but instead we pulled in to a bus terminal well outside of the town (instead of the advertised in the town centre). A short Thai woman dressed strangely in a black and white stripy referees shirt got on and started telling us to now change to mini bus for 'Patong Patong' and some other places on the west coast. We kept asking her if this was Phuket Town and she said “we are in Phuket, in Phuket” (as in the island, not the town), we asked her again “this Phuket Town??”, to which she said “one moment....”. This exact same conversation happened again in ten minutes time until she finally said we had to pay 100 Baht to get to Phuket Town. We weren't happy, and felt like they were doing everything they could to find a way to rip us off. We had no option but to board the minibus with 7 young British college boys on a summer holiday break. It was a 10 mintue drive to the main high street in Phuket Town and we were dropped off at a hotel.

Small one pulled his large backpack out the bus and found the base of it soaking with water (we presume this was from the big bus that had to drive through some flood waters from the storm). He then noticed that his small green day bag was covered in someone's sick. Small one wasn't happy, he put on his big backpack which immediately soaked his back. We then wondered the rain soaked streets slipping on the tiled paved paths in our flip flops. We viewed a couple of hotels, most were sold out. We finally found one called Thavorn Hotel. The hotel had a strange trapped in time large reception room – with old chairs and tables, a huge reception desk and black and white photos covering the walls. We were told we could have either an air con private room or a fan private room, the air con being twice the price. We asked to see both and the receptionist produced this 5 foot tall little old pear shaped Thai lady – she walked with a slow shuffle and here face was painted white, with bright red lip stick. She slowly took us up in the elevator which sounded like was about to cave in. The first air con room was okay, bit of a dingy motel look about it. We then asked to see the fan room and we had to go back down to reception, get another key, but this time she took us outside and down a dingy alley way to a separate apartment building – where locals washing hung out on balconies. Up another rickety elevator and an even more flea ridden room was shown to us, this one just with a fan. We paid the 550 Baht for the air con room. The little clown faced lady insisted on coming back up to this first room with us, and she led us into the room and into the bathroom where she showed us how to use the shower. We thought she was staying the night with us, but then she left us alone. We hung out our wet clothes to dry and just went to bed. Though we could not figure out how to turn out the two room lamps which illuminated the room. The room was full of light switches, they were even built into the bed side cabinet, but after trying all 10-11 of them (some did nothing at all) we had to just sleep with the lights on.


Friday 22nd November 2013 – Koh Tao, Thailand

Awoke early morning to a horrendous storm outside. Thunder and lighting and rain and wind  lashing on to the windows and balcony. Weather for the day was mostly stormy, so as it was our final day didn't look like we'd get to go snorkelling or hike up to the view point. We were happy enough just to relax on the balcony though. Love / Hate was finished, but Tall one convinced Small one to watch Breaking Bad and we watched the first season, then finished both our books. The swimming pool remained half full and no attempt was made to finish it.

Dinner had Fried Rice with Fried Chicken, and as it was our last night Clive presented us with a glass of straight rum each (his infamous Burmese Rum he'd spoke of on our arrival). Tall one managed to drink his straight, whilst small one took one sip and convinced tall one to swap glasses. Clive came over when the rum had almost gone and only at this point did he offer a can of coke as a mixer, which he had put in his own glass. We chatted with Clive for the evening, joined by some of the newer guests – a deaf lad from England who'd been doing his diving course and said today was the first time in the ocean. He said the choppy water did not matter when you were diving though it was pretty dark and deep and scary – his main concern was making it tot he docks each day for the training, as Clive had always managed to get him their late. This was why we told Clive our boat next morning tot he main land was at 5.15am instead of 6am, and the lad told him his final day diving was at 7am when it was 7.30am. Clive spent a good half an hour trying to convince us to take the night boat at 9pm, to save himself getting up at 4.30am tomorrow. We were also joined by an Iranian girl who grew up in Sweden – a peculiar girl dressed all in green, who had the hugest mono brow you'd ever seen.

Clive spoke of various subjects, including how he'd only ever read two books in his life, one was Lord of the Rings and the other was Robinson Crusoe (whose life he seemed to be trying to live). Though as he is illiterate he said he could only read one page per day. On the subject of music he said he used to work in the pop industry, and had slept through the recording of Stairway To Heaven when it took Jimmy Page and Robert Plant 36 hours to record. We were a bit dubious on this story.
Before we headed for bed we asked for a group photo of him and his wife Im, he declined saying that he didn't want his face on the Internet due to his past life. Small one convinced him we wouldn't show the photo in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, India or anywhere else in the middle east and he eventually came in for the picture.

Thursday 21st November 2013 – Koh Tao, Thailand

Wifi is still very bad, forcing small one to resort to reading a book. Good news is that Clive is finally starting to sort out the swimming pool and has two of the local workers bucketing the old water out by hand – at this rate it may be ready for 2 weeks time. Some bacon arrived from town and small one enjoyed bacon and eggs, whislt tall one opted for museli, fruit and yoghurt. Back to the apartment to hand wash our laundry in the cold shower and sink using shampoo (their laundry rates are pretty expensive here) and hang everything out to dry on our many tables and chairs. Open a beer and then sit down to read again. Tall one re-did his New Zealand tax return as apparently the one he sent in October 'got lost', once they receive this one (after we post it somewhere in Thailand)  the 10 week process will start again.

Spent the afternoon sat on the balcony watching the entire 4th season of the Irish made, Love / Hate. Occasionally stopping to look out over the balcony down at the swimming which was slowly filling up with sea water being pumped in, and made it to about one third full by the time Clive turned it off. Had our lunch and later our dinner in their Reception house, joked how we had worked our way through their entire menu (an A4 piece of paper), from Green Chicken Curry, Red Chicken Curry, Sweet and Sour Chicken, Stir Fry Chicken, and Chicken in Coconut. Chatted to Clive some more who advised us he'd already died three times in his life. Once in an ambulance, and when he woke up in the hospital he was advised that he'd turned up dead until they revived him. The second he woke up in a morgue staring up at the ceiling feeling very cold, until a Doctor came in and looked a bit surprised. The last time he had a large heart bypass, though his chest was about the only place where there was no scars.

Wednesday 20th November 2013 – Koh Tao, Thailand

Up for breakfast and heard Clive brining in some more backpackers, telling them he'd have the pool filled today (we've heard this three days in a row now mind you). His Thai wife 'Im', works tirelessly in their small kitchen to produce dinner for all 26 apartments, though she seems in good humour with Clive despite the 41 year age gap. They are always seem to be joking with each other in that sarcastic manner, and her English is derived mostly from Clive, leaving her with this bizarre cockney, Eliza Doolitle accent.

We had a wonder round the neighbouring lanes and found the nearby 'Mols Beach Bar' closed for the season. Two young backpacker girls were helping a tanned fella collect endless rubbish washed up on the beach – apparently they had offered to help for an hour after he told them it would take 2 months to clear up. We watched them for a while painfully picking up empty water bottles, wrappers and syringes – whilst out past them in the ocean was hoards of other fresh rubbish on it's way in to shore. There was another bar along the beach with a green roof, which was also marked as closed – so the only place to eat or drink was with Clive and Im.

More backpackers arrived, and soon Clive told them that he was now full tonight. Some of them who had been here a couple of days were looking a bit bored, as the ocean has turned out so choppy and the weather too bad for diving or snorkelling, which really is the only attraction out this end. E just relaxed in the apartment all day, reading our books looking out over the stormy ocean. Clive left to go to town once more, this time dropping off 7 backpackers in to town – how he'll get them all into the back of his 4x4 car (which has no backseats) and make it up those steep hills we have no idea.

Tuesday 19th November 2013 – Koh Tao, Thailand

The bathroom in our apartment is a little weird, the quite slippery tiled floor on the same level as the bedroom – except that the toilet itself is up on like a small stage which has a step to get up to it – this makes it even nearer to the low ceiling than the rest of the flat, and so to have a pee Tall one must go up these stairs and stand hunched over the toilet – we also noticed that from the foot path you can see right in to our throne through the curtainless window – it's all part of it though.

Had breakfast with Clive and Im before getting a ride in to the main town at Saii Ree beach. Was very busy with tourists and locals constantly up and down the narrow lanes on motorbikes or pick up trucks. It was an overcast day and it soon thundered over head and rained very hard for an hour. We took refusage in a beach side bar and sat and had a drink and watched the storm pass over. The beach views were very nice, lined with crooked palm trees and the usual motor bikes tied to the shore. The sun came out for about an hour in the afternoon when we retook this morning's photos in the same places to ensure there was some blue skies. We also enjoyed a Jacket Potato with beans and cheese and a home baked Lasagne by the beach.

Our pick up from Clive was booked for 6o'clock, but he drove past us at 5pm. He said he'd take us now and we thought we'd agree he'd pick us up in fifteen minutes outside the supermarket to give us time to finish our shop for supplies. We spent some $50NZD on Singha Beer, Leo Beer and Chang Beer, as well as some snakc food and yoghurts for the apartment. We were outside at 5.15pm, but Clive must have gone home as we stood there till nearer to 6pm. Small one stood ease dropping on an argument at the Motorbike rental, where two french lads brought back a bike demanding their money back as the brakes had failed and he;d almost had an accident, the little Thai fella refused and the saga raged on a while. During this Tall one spent his time watching a local white bellied sea eagle in a nearby tree, though the only view he had was essentially of it's arse hole.

It was Im who picked us up at 6pm in the car, she was on her way to pick up the 3 kids and had also just obtained 2 yung lads to check in to the apartments – who swapped seats with us whilst they did their shopping and we went to pick up the kids. Once the kids were in and we did Im's shopping and collected the two boys again – the van was pretty full. It was a chaotic trip back up the steep hills, with the three kids singing and screaming in unison. Small one commented to Im that he now understood why she left the kids at school till 6pm to do their homework.

Monday 18th November 2013 – Koh Tao, Thailand

Finally the driver of the sleeper bus turned off the noisy movies and we drifted off to some kind of sub standard confused state of sleep. Though we were awoken at 3am by an old Thai man shaking us awake saying 'Koh Tao! Koh Tao!”... apparently this was our stop to get off at. Only us and one other couple got off the bus in darkness with our bags, half asleep and were left by the side of the road. On the street we also saw the french man we had met in Bangkok heading to Koh Tao (he had somehow booked through the same company but was put on a different bus to the same connection??). We were then put on a mini bus for an hour, and dropped off at a rubbish filled ferry terminal at 4am in the dark and told to wait for our boat to the island which would leave at 6.30am. The heavy storm rain and thunder and lightning then kicked in and we sat and waited with stray dogs under mouldy marquees.....

Called to our boat around 6am and we sat on the top inside deck of the small boat. We were later told that we had to pay 30 Baht each to sit on the top deck as it was a fancy air con room. We paid this anyway as we were too lazy to move downstairs. The boat left at 7am and a couple of Thai men tried hustling us to stay at different resorts, in fairness they were friendly enough and quite funny about their sales pitches – all of them saying that they had presumed Tall one was infact already a local on the island and a diving instructor??  The downside to the boat journey was that another movie was put on, this one a Nicholas Cage hostage/heist movie called 'Trespass' in which Nick Cage's huge forehead was having a constant battle with his parted fringe. When the movie ended after an hour and a half, nobody turned it off and the DVD automatically looped and so we watched the exact same movie again. There had been storms recently and so the water was very choppy, very brown and full of garbage. The boat rocked up and down all the way to the island and we both felt sea sick.

We docked in Koh Tao around 10am and the crew slid our backpacks off the boat on to the pier using a metal chute device. We gathered our bags and then were hustled by many taxi drivers to take them to our resort. We had already been told that the set price for a taxi on the island was 100 Baht per person ($4 NZD per person), and as the resort Bungalow we'd looked at was only 2km away we thought we'd walk (as we'd got a 10km trip in Bangkok for 100 Baht between us and resented paying more). We were both starving and had unsettled stomachs, so stopped for breakfast in the Cafe Del Sol. Despite the stormy weather giving the island a grey look with murky waters, it seemed like quite a decent place to spend the next week – we just had to find some cheap accommodation which after our hunt online looked like would be a challenge.

After the decent breakfast we walked up the hill and braced ourselves for the 2km walk with our backpacks to a Bungalow resort up Sai Ree Beach we had little info about, but had found online. We turned the corner and started walking up the road (no footpath) hoping none of the bikes would hit us, when a van pulled in going the opposite direction. The driver called out with a London accent to us if we were looking for a great place to stay, and his van was plastered with adverts for the 'Hin Wong' Apartments. We had a chat with the man who got out on the road to speak to us. A short British man who was 70, wearing just a ragged pair of beige shorts, shirt off with a bloated gut with scars running the length of it, white hair, craggy face and a 2 week old rough growth of white beard – he looked like a man who'd been living in the jungle off a bottle of rum for a month. With his still strong cheeky London accent he 'talked the talk' and got us into the back of his van, no seats – just an open back with a boot that wouldn't close properly. His apartments had apparently only opened last Christmas, but had been in the making for the last 16 years. He told us he just had to pick up a large English couple in town before driving us out to the more remote east side of the island.

The large english couple turned out to be very large, and both the boyfriend and girlfriend were painted head to toe in fluorescent paints and had spent the night on Koh Phan Ngan for the full moon party. The trip to the eastern side was pretty steep and bumpy, the roads pretty bad and steep – Tall one furthest back in the van holding on for dear life to the inside car handles to stop himself from falling against the half open boot. We got the the end of the road and the english driver, whose name was 'Clive' told us to leave our backpacks in the van so we could see if we liked the place first. We then followed him and the large couple up various steep paths for about ten minutes, until we got to his main reception. His house / reception had a deck overlooking this remote bay, where the forest lead down to the shore on steep rocks, and below Clive pointed out the free snorkelling spots where turtles and rays frequented the usually calm and turquoise waters. He showed us two apartments, the first was 400 Baht for 2 people, per night (about $16 NZ dollar per night) and was a whole studio apartment with kitchen, fridge, cooker, balcony sliding doors to bay view, plus bathroom – half the price of everywhere else we had priced. The next apartment he showed us was twice the size, had two rooms and a large open air patio area with soft seats and table and chair – this one was 600 Baht a night. We opted for this one, talking him down to 500 Baht a night for 5 nights. The only downside was that the ceilings were quite low in most places, but tall one did not mind stooping for 5 nights in order to stay in an eccentric paradise.

We paid Clive in reception, and he gave us a bottle of beer each and toasted 'Chop-Dee' (cheers in Thai). We brought him a couple of large bottles of beer back and we stood in his kitchen / reception chatting for over an hour. We drank Chang beer, Singha beer and also 'Leo' beer (which had a picture of a Leopard on the front). Clive had an amazing story for a 70 year old man. He started life in London as a street kid living in the gutter, completely illiterate without parents. At 15 years old he made it to Paris where he lived for a year. At 16 he got down to northern Africa (Tangiers) where he spent some time as a local tour / concierge for foreigners who disembarked off ships – helping them with local surroundings. From there he got involved in his own long distance lorry driving business – shipping to many countries including India, Iraq, Afghanistan. He learned Islam, and the Koran and some 16-20 years ago when America had interests in the middle east he acted as a go-between due to his connections with the local leaders made through his hauling firm. Both sides paid him a fortune to act as this go-between, but his career ended abruptly when he was stabbed sixteen times in the back with a bayonet leaving him with part brain damage (those long scars on his stomach weren't shark bites like small one presumed). In this respect he was of no more use to the CIA and retired with a heap of money and brought this spot of land in Koh Tao sixteen years ago (along with properties in India, Britian, Turkey and Africa – where all houses were custom made ad looked the same).

He had discovered this island 25 years ago when he came looking for one of his estranged sons, and found him on the island (before emails and telephone were here). He had arrived on the island with only a photo of his son asking the locals if they knew him, to which they pointed to a person in a hammock and said 'over there'. His son pooped his head up and asked him 'what the fuck are you doing here?'. Clive went on to marry a Thai girl and have 3 children with her and build another home on his land on the east side of Koh Tao. He told us he was currently 70 and his Thai wife, 'Im' was 29. Though apparently Im is his sixth wife, and he has 23 children in total across the globe (putting this down to his Islam teachings). He mentioned 2 wives were from Ireland, one of which popped out one day to get some fags and did not come back for 4 days – to which he attributed this to the fact that she was responsible for an IRA bombing in Germany. Clive happily continued to be fed beer by us, and mock his Thai wife as 'lazy' as all Thai employees are, which is why he apparently employees people from Burma (one of which he got to trek back to the road and carry our backpacks to our room). We also discussed a young resident french backpacker girl who popped into reception, who was apparently travelling alone for months and struggling too contact her boyfriend back in London – Clive described the girl as “not pretty...but... she has something”. Then one of Clive's sons unexpectedly turned up, with a very London accent. Clive greeted him by asking 'the cunt' where his big gut had come from and mentioning that he wouldn't pull anything with that. Clive said he now needed some food as he'd drunk too much, he went to one of the four fridge freezers and pulled out a rasher of bacon from the freezer that looked like a frozen sock. He pealed off a couple of  rashers and threw them in a dry frying pan with some raw eggs, followed by a tin of beans and stirred it all in together on the hob.

We left Clive to the family and went for a much needed shower in our enormous apartment. Outside of which on the rocks sat a monitor lizard about a metre long. Small one took a doze while Tall one sat on the balcony examining his bloated feet from travel whilst the mist and drizzle set in across the bay. Small one left a good 5 hours, before they headed to the main building to sit in essentially, Clive and Im's front room with their 3 Thai children – whilst Im cooked us a chicken stir fry. The food was very nice, and we were glad we'd decided to come out here.

Sunday 17th November 2013 – Bangkok and Overnight to Koh Tao, Thailand

Navigated the shit and vomit covered paths of Khao San Road to find somewhere for breakfast. Found a decent enough hotel cafe and sat down for our set menu. We had the computer's out to book some transport options for India and look at Hotels for Koh Tao where we were heading that night, when an Asian fella (infact a Kiwi) approached us out the blue and asked to join us. We're always a bit out off by this, but said yes and he sat down – apparently only just arriving that day and not being too keen on the cesspit feel of the area. After breakfast we cleared out the hotel room and checked out with the miserable Thai woman in reception. As we waited for her to count out our 1,000 Baht deposit an extremely rough Thai prostitute rolled into the Hotel with an embarrassed English lad – the Thai girl's face was rough, seemed to ave some kind of rash on her mouth and cheeks and she fell over the desk offering this brown spicy thai food in a takeaway container to the reception staff (they declined the food, but continued to awkwardly humour her).

Check out was at 12pm and our bus was at 6pm, we looked for somewhere to hold up with wifi and soft chairs and went into the Starbucks. Paid the $8 in coffees and found some very soft sofas to sit on, then realized that they wanted us to pay for the wifi. Moved on to the back roads opposite Khao San, and went into the Mango cafe where essentially we sat from 12pm until 6pm occasionally ordering a bone filled chicken soup or cup of coffee. The downside being that some arsehole of a Canadian man in his 40's with a grey streaked pony tail and sunglasses sat out in the rain talking loudly about a loud of shit opinions about countries he;d never been to (“yeah like there's bars in Glasgow you just don't go in to as they will kick the shit out of anybody who is not local”).

At 5.45pm we moved to the street and stood outside the booking office (next to Mango cafe) ready for our pick up at 6pm. We were joined by a middle aged French fellla also going to Koh Tao, and we all watched as the Thai booking office manager had a huge argument on the street with a very old foreign man about God knows what. All we gathered was when the Thai manager was shouting in the old man's face “you are con man.... you lie you lie you lie.... why you lie.... no wonder Thai people hit you in the face (the old man had a brusied lip)”. Never did find out what the story was, but the old tourist just sat calmly through all this abuse and in the end they walked off together with the tourist offering to now pay the manager.

Just after 6pm a Thai man with a long black pony tail and a handle bar moustache on a pink motorbike turned up.  He asked to see all our tickets, and told only Tall one and Small one to follow him (the french man had to stay) and he would take us to the bus to Koh Tao. He then took off up the street on his pink bike, leaving us to carry our heavy backpacks and struggle to keep up with him. He'd wait for us at the end of the street and then take off again round another corner. We finally got to a busy junction where we were told to wait with four other groups of backpackers for the bus.

A double decker sleeper bus turned up at 7pm and we all boarded with our different coloured stickers stuck to our shirts for different island destinations. . It was surprisingly comfortable, with spacious reclining chairs, fleece blankets with cartoon elephants designs and all the other passengers were quite reasonable and friendly (we'd been worried it would be full of drunk wankers after being told we were heading down at the same time as a Full Moon Party). The bus headed out of Bangkok and we past many small and large rivers where locals were celebrating the full moon by releasing floating candles down the river. The driver decided to stick a movie on for us all, and put on Marvel's The Avengers, followed by a second movie of Fats and Furious 6. This supposedly was a sleeper bus, and he'd picked the two nosiest and loudest movies possible to stick on, and after an hour of each one the tv signal to the DVD payer conked out and were were left with no picture and just the very loud sounds of explosions.  This went on till 1am when we wer eabout ready to kill ourselves.

Saturday 16th November 2013 - Bangkok, Thailand

Woke up a few times through the night on our sleeper bed, but all in all had a pretty good sleep till about 5.30am. Train arrived on schedule in Bangkok at 6am and we headed into the station. Information told us a taxi to Khao San Road would cost no more than 100 Baht. Outside on the street Tuk Tuk driver's told us they would only charge us 200, so we went for a proper taxi. Small one sat next to the driver and said good morning to him, his only response was to snort flem up the back of his throat and nostrils. He dropped us in Khao San and the cost was only 60 Baht. It had just got light, and at 6.30am the bars were still full of young backpackers drinking. We past a 7-Eleven where one big fella thought he was hilarious lying on the floor of the steps right outside the door greeting the passersby. We tried to go the to the upstairs part of Mulligans, where 2 years ago e had had their decent breakfast and sat for a few hours (as it was too early to check in). The upstairs was dingy and stunk of booze and fags, and still full of drunks. We headed to McDonalds downstairs which was pretty quiet. Small one left Tall one on the free wifi and went scouting for a cheap room. Tall one sat alone on his laptop and watch some poor elderly Thai man try and enter McDonalds carrying a bunch of red roses – when he was halfway throught he door they automatically closed on him. His second attempt was more successful and he sat on a table right by the door, which meant that the sensor constantly picked him up and the door would keep opening and closing, until after 5 minutes he left after buying nothing or meeting anybody.

We guessed it was the morning after a Friday night, but Khao San road was a lot more dingy and depressing than we both remembered it, not to mentioned expensive. The cheapest room we could find was 650 Baht a night (over $25 NZD). Then they wanted extra money for everything, $4 for wifi, $4 for hot water in the shower..... we opted to get neither and thought we'd only stay the one night in Bangkok. Headed to the room and had our cold shower and then planned our next move in Thailand.

Walked around Khao San Road and the surrounding areas after all the drunks had temporarily disbanded. Priced a bus and boat down to one of the islands, Koh Tao and was told 1200 Baht, the next place quoted us 1050 Baht, the next one 900 Baht, and the final one 800 Baht.... we went with them and booked a night bus for 6pm tomorrow.

As Tall one still only had one pair of flip flops to travel in we hunted for a pair of covered shoes for him, though Khao San had nothing. After lunch brought a map and planned an afternoon's long walk to the sites. The woman who sold us the map told us it was far to far to walk to, but we managed it okay. From Khao San walked up Lanluang Road, through a lot of protest speeches and stalls selling Thai merchandise to locals. After a good walk made it to the Pratunam Market area and hunted round various markets and shopping malls for a pair of shoes, failing to find any at all (only flips flops and ladies shoes) – what men in this country do for shoes we have no idea. After the McDonalds we had had for breakfast we continued our tradition of experiencing the local cuisine by having a KFC for lunch.

The long walk continued down Ratchadamri Road, down the side of Lumphini Park. We found where Jim Thompson's House was marked on the map which was supposed to be a museum now, though it turned out we had the wrong one and had walked for 45 minutes to just one if the Jim Thompson store outlets (selling his famous silk products). We were given directions to the museum and his old house, which led us back the direction we had come, but up Phayathai Road to Siam Square. We got to the house and museum and found it heaving with tourists, and were surprised it was such a big attraction.

Jim Thompson had moved to Thailand in his 40s and established a company to produce Thai Silk in bulk (previously only small quantities were made in homes) and he incorporated traditional designs and colours long abandoned, and revitalised the Thai silk industry to what it is today. He also collected many South East Asian artifacts, antiques and art – and subsequently had a large custom made Thai style house built using pieces from 6 other buildings. In 1967 at the age of 61 Jim Thompson was on a break with friends in the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia, and went for a walk out of the garden and was never seen again. A mass search ensued, and no remains were ever found, conspiracy theories surfaced (especially after his sister in America was murdered within the year), from kidnapped to suicide, to man eating tigers to Jim being a CIA operative who went into hiding. None were ever proved and the answer has never surfaced.

There was a guided tour around his house, which was donated to a foundation by his nephew, after Jim was declared legally dead after 7 years. In the gardens were large ceramic jars about 3 foot high, some of these had one line fish stuck into them, just floating their looking very unhappy.  Large turtles also wondered around the paths out of the small fish ponds. The inside of the house felt more like a museum, and was enormous for just one man. In his bedroom the guide showed us Jim's chamber pots, one in the shape of a Cat, the other in the shape of a frog..... was a strange thought that a Millionaire in his 60's spent his time pissing in a china cat or frog??

After the tour we wondered back to the main road and small one brought an orange juice which turned out to have small pieces of jelly in it. We headed down Banthathong Road, then Charoenkrung Road and after an hours walking got to the Oriental Hotel (now Mandarin Oriental Hotel) – a legendary hotel frequented over the years by such people as writers; Graham Greene, Sommerset Maugham, Noel Coward, John Le Carre (most of them now having guest suites named after them), and also Jim Thompson had lived there. We knew there was a strict dress code to even go inside (no sandles, no shorts, no backpacks) and as tall one only had flip flops they would have to just have a peak inside from the front entrance. A valet stopped us at the door and asked us what we wanted, we asked if he could just get us a business card for the hotel from the reception as we were not aloud inside. The man didn't look happy, and instead of going to reception he went to the parking attendant who gave us a parking ticket with the Hotel logo on.... we were handed this and felt like beggars being humoured.

We wondered down to the Chao Phraya Riverside, where there was a ferry port. A sign stated that there would be large fines for littering, and all underneath the sign (and in the river) was piles and piles of garbage. We asked one of the ferry attendants if there was a boat back up the river to Khao San Road area, to which he just told us to sit down there and pointed to a bench. The man never came back to us to explain the price, or where we would be dropped off so we left. We priced one taxi to get back to Khao San who told us 200 Baht, a Tuk Tuk driver told us 300  Baht and another taxi told us 300 Baht.... we started walking and expected it to take about an hour and a half. Ten minutes later a Tuk Tuk pulled up next to us and said he would charge only 200 to Khao San, small one said “100”.... to which the driver came down to “okay 150”.... small one said “no 100” and kept walking, to which the driver called out (not very happy)...”okay okay 100”. He then drove like a lunatic and dropped us off at our destination without another word to us. In fairness the taxi we took this morning was only 60 Baht and the train station was pretty close to where we were. Back at the hotel by 6.30pm and we were both shattered, and weren't up to much more.

Friday 15th November 2013 – Vientiane, Laos to Bangkok, Thailand

Breakfast at the same little (empty) cafe next door to the Guesthouse. The Lao lady was pleased to see us, along with her european husband. We had French Toast made correctly and two of their very good black Lao coffees. We packed and checked out and came back for lunch and had cheese burgers and more coffee. Met the Taiwan fella from Phonsavan on the street who joined us and told us how he had messed up his flights back home, and now had to stay and extra 2 days in Vientiane.

3pm we went to the booking desk opposite the guest house (seems like everything we needed on this second stay in Vientiane was on  the one street). A large Tuk Tuk took us, a young couple and a Polish man to Thanaleng train station. Here at 3.30pm we gave us two train tickets, and we waited until the Immigration desk opened at 4pm. By then a few minibuses had dropped off many ither travellers for the train out of Lao. Immigration opened and stamped our exit visa from Lao and took 10,000 Kip. Then we all sat on plastic chairs and waited for the train departure time at 5pm, a few backpacker girls sat infront of us, and small one watched a daddy long legs spider gradually crawling up the back of this one gorl's chair towards her long curly hair. Small one lifted his foot and prodded the spider gently upwards until it got into the girl's hair. He had hoped for a screamer, but instead she just commented to her friends that she felt a bug on her face, and soon they all sensibly pointed out the spider and let it go free. We then boarded the train to Nong Khai – which was a fifteen minute ride into Thailand. This train left at 5pm and was more of a toy train than a proper train, with windows cut out of the sides, and it was literally just a small few cabins that rode on railway tracks on the road over the Friendship Bridge (cars had to wait for us to cross as we drove on the same road). As we chugged over the bridge that crossed the Mekong, the Lao flags gradually changed into Thai flags.

Off the train at Nong Khai station and a queue through Thai Immigration to get our visa stamp (Tall one got 30 days, Small one only 15 days). At the station a lot of Thai policeman were marching up and down, at first we thought they were on official business, but then they started taking photos of each other standing by the trains on their Iphones. We boarded our 2nd class, fan, sleeper cabin – which was quite comfortable and spacious – with just a little booth of two soft grey chairs facing each other. We set off at 6pm for the 12 hour trip into Bangkok. A large Thai man in pink gave us a menu and asked if we wanted beer, and soon came back with these huge pint bottles of beer and some cold sweet and sour.... he later asked us to pay, and it was $25! Wished we asked the price before hand.

After we finished we noticed along the window sill of the train a little cockroach popped its head out from the frame. We saw three different cockroaches in total, small one killed two of them armed with the spoon from our sweet ad sour. There was one little careful bugger that survived, and kept cautiously poking his head out to look at us with his antennae waving. Whilst the journey continued some immigration officers came and examined every page of our passports, and ten minutes later another set of them came and did it again. The toilets on board were curious, they had a urinal, but only a squat toilet – which was literally just a large hole that led straight down on to the tracks. Whilst peeing in the urinal you could stare down through the squat toilet and watch the tracks go by – so we can only presume that you just shit straight down on to the tracks (you'd hate to live by the railway line). A conductor then came and checked everyone's tickets, and with a little hole punch clipped a hole to show it had been checked. Behind the conductor was a little old Thai man with a sweeping brush, whose job seemed to be to follow the conductor and sweep up all his little white circles that were punched out and fell on the floor. After dinner was packed away a man in a white uniform unlocked the top bunk bed and made the two beds up for us (the two grey chairs folding into a bed below). We pulled the curtains and watched 2 CSI episodes, before going to sleep around 10pm keeping one eye out for the little cockroach.

Laos 3rd - 14th November 2013

Thursday 14th November 2013 – Phonsavan to Vientiane, Laos

It's a strange existence travelling in a cramped sleeper bus overnight, as you don't really sleep you just occasionally nod off and then wake up with a jerk very confused – to wonder where the hell am I, and how come either only 5 minutes has past or 2 hours has past. After midnight we were awake on the steep hills when he drove past a very large lorry which had come off the road and toppled into the ditch. In the road infront of it a few locals sat with torches, and one held up a blood soak blanket in our headlights as we past, where small one said was a very dead looking body underneath. Small one didn't sleep too much after that, though in fairness the bus driver was driving very well. Small one was also hit with bad diarrhoea, and the poor people sitting next to the bus toilet must have had trouble sleeping the rest of the trip.

We arrived at a large bus terminal at 6am, where half the people got off, though there was no announcement that this was Vientiane, and (again) no signs. We finally decided it was and collected our bags and drearily went inside the terminal to find out where we were and how to get to the town centre. In the end we hooked up with the 3 french guys and haggled a persistent Tuk Tuk driver down to 15,000 Kip per person to take the five of us into town. Once dropped in town we wondered the streets searching for the non-existent cheap hotel. We weren't the only people who were roaming the streets at 6.30am with backpacks, clearly looking for accommodation having just arrived on either the same bus or another one. We bumped into the 3 french lads a few more times who were having little success, we also saw the large cat stroking Dutch girl who we'd met in Vang Vieng and at the waterfall in Luang Prabang, and then bumped into the Taiwan guy from our Plain of Jars trip who had come down on a separate bus to us.

We tried the Mexok Inn again, though they only had a triple room – Tall one sat outside and had a coffee and guarded the bags whilst small one went and found us a cheapish place down the road called RD guesthouse (private room, air con and bathroom for 80,000 Kip a night – compared with the 150,000 we'd paid last time in Mixok). We were even aloud to check in early and collapsed in our room. Was a strange ensuite, with old cowboy saloon swing doors to the bathroom, leaving un-necessary smells from the toilet easily able to drift into the bedroom. We turned the TV on and listened to a CNN reporter ho sounded a lot like Alan Alda (though looked nothing like him). After a needed shower we handed in our large 6kg of laundry next door then went for breakfast in a cheap cafe a few doors away. Small one had fruit, and tall one opted for the French toast – the waitress frowned when he ordered this and ran her finger along the listing for French Toast printed in the menu. When Tall one's order finally showed up he was handed three dry slices of white toasted bread, with 2 fried eggs and a side dish of honey and a side dish of milk?? The waitress had literally just read the ingredients and given them to him, not knowing how to put it together. We explained to her that she needed to mix the egg and milk in a bowl, then dip the bread in the mixture before frying the bread – but we said not to worry at all as it was nice as it was (though a little strange and Tall one did not know how to incorporate a dish of milk with eggs on toast). After breakfast we booked our night train to Bangkok, Thailand for tomorrow night, and wet back to doze in the hotel room.

After a long doze, we skipped lunch and headed out for dinner. Went back to the same cafe we had the French Toast in.... it was empty like this morning, except this time the Thai ladies husband was their – a french man. We discussed the french toast, which he had apparently talked her through the process over the phone after Tall one had ordered it, though it didn't quite work out. Small one had a chicken Mexican wrap and Tall one had meat balls with chips, it's an eclectic menu though the food (and the coffee) was very very good. Afterwards took a stroll up the night market, and found the streets very busy with cars and hard to cross. Small one collected our laundry and when we arrived back at the Guest House we past the 3 french lads in the hallway, who had apparently ended up in the same hotel as us (if they show up for the Bangkok train, something will be very wrong).

That was the end of our last full day in Laos, as we now prepare to return to Thailand tomorrow evening. We coloured in our map of South East Asia and realized how very little we covered of Laos, just 4 main places in under 2 weeks. We can't claim to have gotten to know the Lao people or country in such a short time, though it has made a good impression on us. The people certainly seem more reserved and quieter compared to our recent trip to Cambodia, there is no real pushy hard selling, they all seem quite laid back in their approach (with a few exceptions anyway). The scenery was all stunning, from the Mekong river sunset in Luang Prabang, to the lagoons and mountains of Vang Vieng, or the rural villages and Plain of Jars in Phonsavan – we were probably more taken with the scenery here than in Cambodia, though the Laos cities all seemed a lot less appealing. The country did seem a bit more advanced however, prices were that bit higher (especially accommodation in Vientiane), and the tour buses seemed to be better organized. It's definitely a place we would like to come back and explore more of, at the very least so that small one can finally learn that to say 'Thankyou' in Lao is pronounced 'Kawp-Jye' not 'Cop-Chow'?? which God only knows what that means.

Wednesday 13th November 2013 – Phonsavan, Plain of Jars and Night Bus to Vientiane, Laos

Stored our bags in the not so Nice Guesthouse, and had breakfast in the Italian place down the road, where they took 45 minutes to prepare a fruit salad (and we were the only customers). The smoking Italian man was joined by another staff member, this Lao fella with a bandana and a wirey sparse goaty. The Lao fella was apparently called, Mr Kong, and announced his presence at 8am by saying loudly how fucking drunk he was. This man then showed us around the scooters and quad bikes they had for rent. The Italian told us that their were 3 sites to visit to see the Plains of Jars, the first was the largest and on a sealed road, 2 and 3 sites were on a dirt road, very muddy and very rough road. As we had had rain last night we decided to pay the extra for the Quad bike for the two of us (120,000 Kip for the day). We were joined by the Tawaiin and Malay girl (Meng Shiun and SheauChin) who also opted for a quad bike. The french girl arrived a little later (smoking as usual) and opted for a scooter on her own, but would follow the four of us. Before we set off the Belgium lady from our bus yesterday saw us and asked how we were getting to the Jars, as she wanted to go but did not want to take a bike – she then wondered off in search of a public bus that did not exist.

The five of us gased up in a petrol station and headed out of town towards the Jar sites. For the whole day every local man or child we past was smiling, waving and laughing at us on the quad bikes – it seems that they have not seen these on the roads very often. Small one would encourage them by merrily beeping the horn and waving at them, they in turn would coming running out waving like Santa Claus was going by on a float.

Jar site 1 was our first stop, which had a lot of tourists. The jar themselves were interesting enough, these large 1-2 metre high old reclics, from over 2,000 years ago – which had largely been bombed inadvertently by the Americans during the Vietnam war. We bumped into (yet again) the Belgium woman who had hired a Tuk Tuk just to this site. She told us she had chatted with a Lao man at this site who was near tears as his parents had been killed here in the bombing, and all he had of them was a photo of them sat on one of these jars which he was trying to find.

The five of us headed off again, the french girl leading on her scooter, though she managed to miss the dirt road turn off to sites 2 and 3. We turned off without her, but she did catch up in the end. The dirt roads were hard work, though did not turn out to be very muddy at all. Luckily the weather stayed sunny all day, though pretty cloudy. Tall one sat on the uncomfortable metal bar rack on the back of the Quad bike, bouncing up and down over the bumps holding on to his hat like a Beverly Hill Billy. Outside a small rural school the Taiwan lad and Malay girl's quad bike stopped. We examined the bike and found that the chain had come off the gears (the same as a push bike). They started digging out the phone number for the Italian man to come out, until Tall one suggested that they first just try and get the chain back on. Tall one managed to do this, though in the process got his hands covered with black oil and grease. It came off again just as we were pulling into the ticket booth for Jar site 2 – and Tall one managed to get the chain back on for a second time, so they held off phoning the Italian.

While they were getting the chain back on the second time the french girl said she'd go on ahead on her own, and so she abandoned us by the ticket booth and a small cafe. Once the chain was on the ticket man took Tall one into the small cafe and handed him over to a small, elderly Lao woman to help him wash his hands (as the public toilets had no soap or running water). She led Tall one out the back of the kitchen and got him to crouch on the floor and hold his hands out, she then poured water from a bucket over his hands and squirted industrial soap on. Tall one scrubbed his hands while she kept on lathering on more soap and water. Just when Tall one thought this process was over she led him to her fridge and took out 2 wedges of lemon and gave them to him. Tall one then rubbed these in his hands, which in fairness did absolutley nothing to help.  He thanked the lady and brought a can of Fanta from her shop in gratitude. His hands were still quite stained, though at least they were dry and not sticky any more.

The ticket booth man then pointed us up a bumpy dirt road to the site 2 of Jars. The two quad bikes headed up here, past two parked cars and a few steps, and down a steep dirt hill. The hill was pretty ugly to get down and we hoped we would  not have to come back up this way. We drove for 5-10 minutes through some nice open countryside, and then struggled to get the bikes over some very bumpy and rough dry river bed terrain – having to push and lift the bike in places. It was then that the french girl greeted us coming back the road we were headed. She told us that the jars were not down here and she thinks they were back up the top of that hill we came down by the cars and steps, she said three french guys had also missed them and were down here on scooters looking without success (these turned out to be the 3 french guys from our Luang Prabang mini bus to Phonsavan yesterday). The french girl left us to it again and disappeared over the horizon. He got small one's quad bike turned around, though we could not get the Taiwan lad's bike to start. The chain was on so was not the problem, but then we checked his petrol and found that he was empty. We then remembered back to our petrol station stop when we set off – the Lao fella at the rental station told us we'd need about 3 litres for the trip we were doing, and when we got to the petrol station we explained this to the Taiwan guy, who then preceded to order only 2 litres, whilst we ordered 3.

Tall one and Small one said they;d go for gas for him, and drove back up that doodgy hill – which was actually easier than coming down. The cafe and ticket booth sold no gas, so drove for 20 minutes or so until we found a small homefront store which had some barrels of gas. She topped up ours and also filled up a 1 litre water bottle with pink gasoline. Twenty minutes later we were back down to their quad bike. We filled the engine, and finally got the engine to start after a lot of messing about. We got both quad bikes back up the hill and found the site 2 Jar site was infact by the steps we had driven by (not a single sign to say this though). When we came back from looking at the two small sites of Jars we found that the Taiwan fella's quad bike had leaked its gas all over the dirt road – and had a steady leak from the engine. We drove very quickly to get back to the cafe and ticket booth, where some locals gathered around and tried to fix it without success. A tour guide with good english (what we thought was good english) showed up and asked if we needed help. We asked him if he could ask the locals if they could fix themselves or if we should try and call the rental station... his answer was that the farmers had to go back to the paddy fields soon.

The Taiwan fella and the Malay girl then made contact with the Italian and he sent someone out to them. In that case we left them to it, and we set off on our own, and original small group now disbanded. Was a bumpy 5.4km to site 3 of the Jars – but was the nicest rural scenery to get there.
We were lucky we found it as there was no sign pointing down the entrance to the site if you were heading from our direction, but there was one if you were comiing from the other direction of the road, and by chance Tall one had turned around and glimsped the sign behind him as they drove past it. We parked up in Site 3 and walked about ten minutes across a stubble field, and a narrow windiing path through a paddy field, then up a hill to the final Jar site. Was more like a solemn graveyard, these scattered stone jars, fenced in a top a hill. We soon left and on the way back to Site 2 (to check the guys had got a replacement or fixed bike) the Taiwan guy and Malay girl showed up in the opposite direction on a large dirt bike. Apparently Mr Kong had driven out and collected their quad bike in a pickup and given them a replacement dirt bike – he didn't charge them any extra costs for time or damages either. They continued on their own to site 3 and we headed home.

By now we were both filthy, not just from the petrol and oil on our hands from trying to fix the bikes, but also as the numerous muddy brown puddles had slashed up our feet and bare legs. Tall one still had not brought a pair of shoes to replace the ones he lost, and so still only had flip flops to wear on these hikes and roads. We got to the junction back to town and thought we had still not seen the 'Russian Tank' abonded from the 60's, that had been mentioned – so took a left at the T junction to have a quick look for it. After 5 minutes drive there was a blue sign with a photo of a tank pointing to a dirt track off the main road. We headed down this track, and kept driving and looking out for a tank. Went through a lot of bushes and the track got narrower, until we stopped to turn back. Then the 3 french lads turned up on their scooters to look for the tank – we let them go on ahead, where the path turned into a muddy ploughed field. We all looked around for another ten minutes without success and so gave up and headed back to the road (yet again no signs). Back at the main road we looked at the blue sign we had seen and noticed it was kind of piinting to a very small footpath leading into some bushes right next to the main road. We took a quick look down there and sure enough there was the tank.... not the most interesting of highlights after spending so long not finding it. 

Got back to town at 5pm (having set off at 9am). Dropped off the bikes with Mr Kong and went to the Bamboo Restaurant round the corner and had an amazing chicken burger, and pork steak. Tall one used their bathroom to hose down his dirty bare legs. Small one then did a count of our remaining Kip currency, he got worried when he found he only had 200,000 Kip (about $26USD), until Tall one counted out the Kip he still had and found he had 1.1 Million Kip (small one does all the purchasing). Afterwards we collected our bags from the Nice Guesthouse and they let us pay 20,000 Kip to use a spare room to have a shower. We took half an hour but felt good to get the dirt out our skin, she knocked on the door just as we were finishing as two people were waiting to check in – that made us wonder if she'd just let them go straight in with the towels used and bathroom sopping wet?

We soon met up with the Taiwan guy, Malay girl and the French girl and toasted our survival of the trip with a Beer Lao. Tall one and Small one took a brief look aroudn the MAG (UXO disposal charity) visitor centre on the high street, and joined the guys for another final beer in the Bamboo restaurant. At 8pm we were back at nice Guesthouse where the sleeper bus arrived to take us to Vientiane (10 hours over night). We were given a ticket each, with seat numbers A1 and A2. Boarding the cramped bus, we first had to take our shoes off and put them in a ccarrier bag to carry on board. The bus had three rows of narrow, awkward bunk beds running the length of the bus – we found that seats A1 and A2 were the front two bottom beds at the bus, and above them (top bunks) B1 and B2. Only in beds A1 and A2 sat two local, middle aged Lao women snuggling clutching their blankets and shopping. When we told them these were our beds, these shook their heads and pointed to the top bunks, small one told them without question that “these are our beds, we paid for them”. The ladies left the beds without comment, and looked at the available bunks down the bus (the locals must not get allocated numbers as we saw several locals in bottom bunks be shifted out by foreigners with tickets with seat numbers). We were also joined on the same bus by the same 3 french lads who virtually seemed to be travelling with us a this stage.

One of the driver's seemingly many assistants then hand out to everyone a small bottle of water and a carton of warm, UHT strawberry milk, he also later went on to hand out a sick bag to the local women who always seem to get travel sickness. Tall one squashed himself into his strange bed / chair, which had a strange foot cover that was very awkward to actually lie down – as the bed seemed designed for people who were four and a half foot tall. Leaving everyone to sort of sit and try and twist their bodies to fit their legs and bend their knees as comfortably as possible. The bus then headed out of town and collected yet more locals at the outside terminal. Their were not enough seats for all the locals and bus drver's assistances, and so pretty soon people were lying down in the aisles next to us, Small one had a little old Lao woman lying on her back in the aisle between him and the person in the bottom bunk to his right, as well as a driver's mate lying in the aisle to his left, between him and Tall one.... if we crashed we would essentially be bollocksed. Never the less we headed off into the night, to go back the hilly steep roads we had come to the Vang Vieng road, and then back down to the capital of Vientiane. 

 Tuesday 12th November 2013 – Luang Prabang to Phonsavan, Laos

Checked out that flea pit and went round the corner to a small, fancy little cafe run by an American woman. She had a Lao girl behind the counter and was also training a young Vietnamese girl on how to carry food, take orders and greet customers. We had tea and oatmeal, and ordered two takeaway chicken sandwiches for the 7 hour bus today. At 8.30am we boarded a Tuk Tuk which picked up another 7 people (all french, including 3 young french guys travelling together). We were then dropped at a bus terminal where we were all 9 of us pointed to a black, crappy minibus for Phonsavan, we looked inside and it was full, so no joy there. We stood about for a while, until finally some driver brought a new mini bus round. Small one hopped into the seats behind the driver which are more spacious and near the door – we have twice now tried reserving seats at the booking desk, to which we are told it was done, but the drivers never ask for reservations which is no real surprise. We were also joined by a middle aged Belgium woman who sat in the front with the driver, she was akin to a Belgium Mr Bean, mumbling away to herself and fiddling with everything on the dashboard curiously.

Set off after 9.15am, and the road back down towards Vang Vieng, then cutting inland to Phonsavan was very steep, hilly and full of hard turns, this meant everyone on board was very queasy, Tall one felt ready to throw up. We stopped after a couple of hours at a small hillside stall, the villagers had large round wicker baskets of red chillis out in the sun to dry. The Belgium woman joyfully took a photo of a disabled Lao midget who was collecting the 2,000 Kip by the toilets for people to use. Back on the bus Tall and Small one took out their takeaway chicken sandwiches to find the tomatoes and drained through the box and filled the bag with an inch of juice. We preceded to eat our soggy sandwich, though due to the road type it was like trying to eat lunch on a rollercoaster. The rest of the road gradually smoothed out for the last hour, though on one strecth for about 10km the locals had decided to leave piles of ballast heaped a good 5 foot high I the middle of the road, which we kept having to drive around.

Arrived in Phonsavan on time around 4pm and were harassed by Tuk Tuk drivers. We took a free ride to the 'nice' sounding Nice Guesthouse (which was in the Lonely Planet) and though the driver told us 80,000 Kip a night, reception charged us 70,0000. The room was basic, and though there was no air con we did not need it as strangely it was quite cold. However the room did smell of something dead. We priced a tour to the Plain of Jars with reception (the main attraction here), he took us to sit down at a table and showed us various maps, photos for ten minutes and explained the myth that locals believed these giant 2 metre stone jars (over 300 spread across site 1) were made for giants to drink whisky. After all this small one asked how much for the tour, and he told us 250,000 Kip EACH (that's about $60-70 for the two of us), the most we;d paid for a tour so far was about $10 each. We declined and priced a scooter to do it ourselves.

We walked the streets up and down and found there was literally nothing to see in thetown and very few cafes. Dark clouds loomed over head and it then preceded to thunderstorm and rain hard for a few hours. We ate in a fair size guesthouse cafe run by a middle aged Italian man, who would stand smoking his cigeratte in the kitchen. We ate a french fries pizza (a pizza with french fries for topping) along with a side of mash potatoes and chicken/onion spring roll things – it took an hour for them to cook this though. The Italian man had a specific habit of not wearing his flip flops on tiled floors, so each time we asked for something he'd have to walk out to us, stop to put his shoes on, see what we wanted, walk back and take his shoes off – go across the tiled floor, get it and come back – take his shoes off, come out to us to give us the menu, then go back and take hi shoes off again. This was a guesthouse not a temple, so couldn't understand the shoes off thing for the tiled reception area. At 6.30pm he put on a 'free movie' which was a documentary recorded off TV about the secret war in Laos. Was very interesting as it involved a secret Air America base set up outside Phonsavan, and how the Americans had wiped out the local civilisation based in the Plain of Jars to conduct their secret base against the Vietnamese. We sat with 3 backpackers travelling alone, a French girl (always a french person in Laos), a Malaysian girl with very good english and a young lad from Taiwan (glued to his IPhone). The lad and the Malay girl met on their but this afternoon and were already sharing a room and their pizza.  They agreed they may do the tour tomorrow with us, especially if it was raining and we could all get a cheap van together. By now the movie had gone on forever, and as he was projecting from his laptop a popup kept coming up over the movie saying that 'this is no an authentic copy of windows'. We left before the end and went to bed in our chilly, smelly room.

Monday 11th November 2013 – Luang Prabang, Laos

Out for breakfast and stumbled in to Nicholas from Vang Vieng, who was sat in the most uncomfortable chairs in Mojo Cafe singing the praises of a local massage he'd had. We left him to it, as he was catching a 20 hour bus to Chaing Mai this evening. Small oe was getting sick of the similar menu selections (With his restricted diet to avoid potential fish/fish oil contamination) – having eaten his fill of muesli, yoghurt, fruit, baguettes, eggs and banana shakes.

At 1.30pm went to our crafts and travel shop and were eventually picked up late for our 4 hour afternoon trip too Kuang Si. The mini bus filled up with mostly french people – behind us a young couple with a 9 month old screaming baby – South East Asia seemed an odd choice for a holiday with such a young child. In front of us was a snobbish American couple, next to them a very quiet Asian girl on her own, and in the front passenger seat a french lad falling asleep. We had lost about 40 minutes of time as outside the city our driver got a call and had to go back and pick up more passengers (who had been the American couple). This meant e only had an hour and a half at the destination. Compared to Cambodia, there seemed strict rules on how many people a mini bus or Tuk Tuk can carry, and each vehicle had a red sticker with a number (ie. 12p) showing it's maximum, and they never exceeded this – on route to the waterfall we were briefly stopped by tourist police, who we presumed were checking our numbers. 

Prices at Kuang Si were reasonable, only $2.50USD each to enter, to see both Kuang Si Bear Rescue Centre and the Kuang Si waterfall (they also didn't charge for the public toilets which made a change). The water fall was stunning, this turquoise waters spilling over multiple layers of the river bed, and cascading down various levels of rocks surrounded by forest and ferns. The only problem shattering this paradise was the vast groups of tourists – from the Japanese bus loads, to the young British backpackers swimming and talking about the drinking games they had planned. The Bear sanctuary was a somewhat random addition to this waterfall, but the odd pairing gave us something else to go see. A fenced enclosure surrounded Asiatic Black Bears and Malayan Sun Bears which had been rescued from hunters traps, illegal fur markets, people's pets or former dancing bears. The enclosure's were quite substantial, with a variety of habitats and play areas – though most of the bears had decided to huddle on the concrete near the building. After the bears we wondered the nearby market, which sold the same crafts as in town (here and in every other town in Laos). We ordered a chicken baguette  and the girl took ten minutes to just put the mayo, butter and salad in – by the time she got to putting the chicken in it looked like it had gone off, so we opted to just have a salad baguette. On the way home we stopped at a small, poor rural village – and the tourists where ushered off a bus and told to follow this loop path around the village where the residents tried to get us to buy the usual crafts we'd already seen. Was a bit bizarre, and a bit sad.

Back to town and the American couple were disgusted that they were not dropped off at their hotel. Small one spent about 2 hours trying to upload his photos on our terrible internet. Went out for dinner and tried Utopia cafe that Nicholas had recommended – the place had loud music, had no chairs, and just lots of hippy types in baggy trousers lounging on floor cushions talking about “so why do you take drugs?....”..... we got the hell out of there and went back to Cafe Mojo. The chips there didn't let us down (unadventurous as we are). A local boy of about 4-5 years old, who seemed to have down syndrome and a very bad hair cut (front half of head was crookedly shaved) approached our table and started doing a strange break dance on the floor. We played a game of high five, and showed him our meagre tattoos. The waiter came and told us that the boy had a problem with his brain, but we said that the boy was perfect, and he was okay and not bothering us. Soon a group of kids came and seemingly took him to the hairdressers up the street who finished his hair cut.

Sunday 10th November 2013 – Luang Prabang – Henri Mouhot's Grave, Laos

Showered just in time before the electricity in the town shut off (again). Headed out to the bicycle rental and craft shop we had priced yesterday, avoiding a Tuk Tuk driver who followed us up the road trying to get us to go with him for the day (he even waited outside a cafe whilst we had our cold sausages). The bike rental was 60,000 Kip each, and he gave us a photocopy map. We were setting off to visit the tomb / memoriam of French naturalist and explorer, Henri Mouhot - who received funding from the UK to explore parts of Siam, Cambodia and Laos in 1858-1861. Logged extensive findings of previously unrecorded languages and animal species and credited with bringing the Temples of Ankgor to worldwide attention following the publishing of his journals posthumously. He died outside Luang Prabang, Laos of malarial fever on 10th November 1861 (by coincidence 152 years ago to the day, making us somewhat late in bringing him malaria tablets).

The rental shop gave us a map and directions to the small village of Ban Phanom, where Henri Mouhot's grave lay about 3-4 km after. The route was relatively easy, neither of us being cyclists – we found the hills only gradual and easy to cycle – the roads were also pretty good, and thankfully was an overcast day so not to hot for cycling. We made it to Ban Phanom from the map and directions in about half an hour's leisurely cycling. The otherside of the village the road headed down some small hills and then ran alongside the Nam Khan river which was on our left. We then headed through a construction area where they seemed to be building a bridge across to the otherside of the river. We kept heading straight ahead and soon the road changed to loose, white stones which was a little harder to cycle. Soon the road takes a corner to the right, and heads away from the river. On this corner where the road leaves the river is where the track to Henri's grave is. There is no sign for the grave on the main road, though the track was right next to a colourful sign for the Elephant rides. On the left side of the road, on the corner - a 3 foot wife dirt track headed down hill to the river. About a minute down the track there was a small white sign on a post saying 'Henri Mouhot' which pointed across a small wooden bridge. We locked the bikes here and followed the forest track past numerous of misty spider webs in the undergrowth. The track then opened out into a somewhat gloomy, though peaceful clearing. Here was the white tomb of Henri Mouhot, a statue about 8 foot tall of his large bearded figure, a statue of an elephant, and a board with description in French of the man. A path led down to the river's edge, where the Nam Khan river flowed fast, and the otherside of the river a group of young locals were playing music. We stayed around ten minutes and headed back.

As there had been no sign from the main road to the grave, we had actually missed it the first time. We had cycled for another 20 minutes or so past the grave, though this hadn't proved a bad thing as the scenary was nicer further round the road.  There was a large mount on the right side of the road, and then we also rode into a small rural village (do not know the name). The village had the dirt track, wooden shacks, chickens and dogs everywhere, and locals sat by the street cooking – was more the small village you'd expect to see compared to the slightly more established village of Ban Phanom, where the buildings were mostly bricks, and had substantial cafe fronts. We had asked directions but nobody had english, but decided we must have missed the turning and so turned back. Luckily we met just outside the village a group of 6-7 men on bikes on a 3 day cycle trip. The guide had good english and told us the tomb was about 3-4 cycle back the way we had come, on a corner.

We headed back and found after at least 5 minutes cycling there were a number of corners with small unmarked tracks leading into the forest. Went down the first one (about a foot wide) and pushed our bikes through the dense bush like fools until we decided this was the wrong track. Cycled for another few minutes and saw a more substantial dirt road on the left of the road. Headed down here through thick wet mud, which clogged the bike and sprayed our legs. A stream crossed the road where we heard loud gurgling sounds from the wood – at first we thought it was some large animal drinking, but then realized it must have just been the stream slurping it's way through the mud. A little further down the track a Lao family in a farm house were shouting at us, we thought they were angry as the woman and two men were brandishing knives and axes. Then they waved us down into the garden and the older man had very good English and was happy to explain where the grave was, we had still not gone back far enough down the road.

It was at this point that we found the track on the corner by the river, which ironically Tall one had stopped at on the way past wondering if it was the right one. After we had seen the tomb we headed back to Ban Phanom village and stopped for a cold can of Beer Lao. Small one asked to borrow their hose to wash some of the mud from their bikes – and as one of the local girls turned the hose on for him, it all sprayed back in her face and she got drenched. They all found it funny. After a half an hour rest we headed back on a nice smooth, calm cycle back to town, where we dropped off the still dirty bikes and booked a bus to the waterfalls for tomorrow. The man at the rental store had black slicked back hair, and a little quiff of white hair on his fringe. We had interrupted his english studies, and he had work sheets and books open, which listed true and false questions under an illustration, such as “the hammer is on the shelf” (and the picture showed a hammer under the shelf).... “the pen is on the chair” (and the picture showed a pen on a chair).

Here is an extract from Henri Mouhot's journals, published in two volumnes a few years after his death and now available for free in the public domain at archive.org:

“My friend's light boat glided rapidly down the stream; in a few minutes he was out of sight, and I was again left alone—for how long a period being quite uncertain. I rarely allow myself to dwell on the subject; but separations are painful to the traveller who has left behind him all he holds most dear in the world, —family, country, home, and friends,—to visit countries inhospitable, and in many ways dangerous, without comfort or companionship. It is equally painful to think that, during long months, his impatient family are living in anxiety, and forming a thousand conjectures as to his fate. I know what awaits me, having been warned both by the missionaries and the natives. During the last twenty-five years, only one man, as far as I know, a French priest, has penetrated to the heart of Laos, and he only returned to die in the arms of the good and venerable prelate, Mgr. Pallegoix. I know the discomfort, fatigue, and tribulations of all sorts to which I am again about to expose myself; the want of roads, the difficulty of finding means of conveyance, and the risk of paying for the slightest imprudence by a dangerous or even fatal illness. And how can one be prudent when compelled to submit to the hardest life of the forest, to suffer many privations, and to brave all inclemencies of the weather ? Nevertheless, my destiny urges me on, and I trust in the kind Providence which has watched over me until now.....My principal object is natural history, and with that study I chiefly occupy myself. I have written, as I said before, in leisure hours, when resting from my fatigues, with a desire to implant in the breasts of others a love for the great works of Nature, and to benefit those who, in the quiet of their homes, delight to follow the poor traveller; who, often with the sole object of being useful to his fellow-men, or of discovering some insect, plant, or unknown animal, or verifying some point of latitude, crosses the ocean, and sacrifices family, comfort, health, and, too often, life itself. But it is pleasant to the man devoted to our good and beautiful mother, Nature, to think that his work, his fatigues, his troubles and dangers, are useful to others, if not to himself. Nature has her lovers, and those alone who have tasted them know the joys she gives. I candidly confess that I have never been more happy than when amidst this grand and beautiful tropical scenery, in the profound solitude of these dense forests, the stillness only broken by the song of birds and the cries of wild animals; and even if destined here to meet my death, I would not change my lot for all the joys and pleasures of the civilised world”.

Mouhot's final entry in his journal on 29th October 1961 (12 days before his death in Laos) : “Have pity on me, oh my God!”.

Back in Luang Prabang town centre we were told the power had come back n this morning, but had subsequently gone off again. We took a walk up to the Nam Khan riverside in the town centre, had a pizza and home made chips which were excellent (along with yet another banana shake). We the climbed some steep steps up to 'Phou Si' temples oat top the hill in the centre of town. There were a few dragons headed on banisters, Buddha shrines, a large Buddha footprint and a small cave. The views were excellent overlooking the river, and a young Monk was stood at the lookout reading some school books. He started talking to us and was very chatty and keen to have a conversation with us. His name was 'Jay' and he wanted to know our names, what we did for a living, where we were from, what Universities were there, what we thought of Luang Prabang and where we were going next. He told us he'd been studying to be a Monk for the last 6 years and would last the rest of his life (he only looked about 18 years old). He asked what sport what we liked and then said that he was not aloud to watch sport, and if he did they would be punished, and mentioned 5 or 10 days or somethhing we couldn't make out. We left Jay to his studies and walked back down the other side of the mount, through some shanty town huts on the side of the slopes.

We returned to the Guesthouse, and earlier today when we had left – the unfriendly young Lao fella who checked us in was sat in the private room next to ours, door open – sat on the ned watching TV whiilst the reception was unsupervised. When we got back after our second walk, we found a new young fella in charge – this one was sat in the hallway on a chair – looking in at the TV on in the room next to ours (at least this one thought to be somewhere where he could watch the reception and entrance). He was laughing out loud as he watched TV and it was only as we walked past the room that we saw he was watching Tom and Jerry. After another stint on the Internet we went for dinner in a garden cafe down an alley. The cheerful waiters had no english, and we had a pizza, and a Keng Pet soup (though not as nice as Maylyn Guest House's). We've found that even if the staff have no engliish, that no matter what country you are in they understand the seemingly international sign language for “can I have the 'cheque' (or bill) please?”. Afterwards brought a Kit Kat from a street front shop which was wrapped in two layers of foil, a layer of white paper and then the usual red wrapper.

Saturday 9th November 2013 – Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang, Laos

Out of bed early, small one got up first, and he was followed by a cockroach which had (presumably) been in the bed all night). Had a final breakfast at the bar, and now are both officially sick to death of museli and bannas, and felt bloated and sick for the rest of the day. We paid our bill and said our goodbye's to Joe and the son-in-law 'Hat', there was no sign of Grampa Walton, Al' but we left our email address for him. Walked over the bridge and boarded our quite luxury, spacious, air con mini van – with one person per seat, and everyone else on board being french with poor english. Our Lao driver was a young lad in a pink t-shirt with very long finger nails – which he used to dig out his ears whilst driving for the first ten minutes. In fact the driver spent the first hour seemingly do everything he could to multi task whilst driving frantically around the cows, pigs, goats, children on the roads – making phone calls and plugging in phones and USB devices. A young french lad sat in the front passenger seat next to him, and wore this weird silk scarf round his neck which he kept lifting up to cover his mouth and nose for no particular reason on the trip.

Driving Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang took 6 hours (9am to 3pm), but some stunning scenary on the way. The roads were very narrow and windy up into the mountains, with some sheer drops by the road overlooking vast valleys and ranges, and more peculiar jagged mountains and hills. Scattered road side villages with thatch and bamboo huts, where local children sat by the road and when a car went by they held up dead squirrels in the air to show us (presumably for sale to eat??), and at one point a little girl held up a dead tabby cat. They also had their grain spread out on sheets in the baking sun, and their cooler fridges with cans of 7-UP and Pepsi for the tourists to buy.

Arrived in Luang Prabang on schedule and the driver unloaded our bags which had been tied and netted to the roof. A few Tuk Tuk drivers wanted $5 per head to take us to hotels, but we just walked, without quite knowing where we were. We (by chance) found the National Museum just 5 minutes up the road, where down the side we found the MyLaoHome Backpackers which we'd looked up. It was an unfriendly, but adequate place – and paid 100,000 Kip for the privilege of air con and a proper inside toilet. We went out to explore the town just as the electricity cut off in the Hotel. Priced some tours for the next day and our bus to the next destination on Tuesday, and walked round the night markets which had now taken over the main road. The market marquee's where so short that Tall one had to walk the length of the stalls with a permanent stoop to fit under them. Dinner at an okay restaurnat, small one had pasta and tall one tried a local Lao Chicken soup – though it had some mysterious hard white ingredient with tough, hairy edges which tasted like soap.... he left those bits to last and never ate them. Back to the hotel for the Celtic match and to sew on the new Lao badges to our backpacks. Also today one of the biggest storms recorded hit the Phillipnes, in the area where William of Waterford (our former colleague from Wellington) was currently bunkered down. His last message to us yesterday had been that he was too late to evacuate and was being was moved to safe area and asked small one to pray for him. Cyclone had a lot of new today, but little details other than high death toll expected. Though after 9pm today William messaged through that he was okay and would update further soon.

Friday 8^th November 2013 – Vang Vieng, Laos

Middle of night Tall one went to go to the bathroom, but when he turned the light on found a spider as big as his hand, and a cockroach on the floor about 7 inches long – he turned the light off and thought he'd wait till the morning – guess that's the problem with sleeping in bambooo huts in the garden. At 8am cold shower and breakfast by the cat. Waited an hour for our muesli, think they had to goo out and buy it – though don't think we'll mention it to Joe. Nicholas and the Chinese fella both left, Nicholas heading to Luang Prabang, and the Chinese fella somewhere cheaper. Avoided Al this morning, have heard too many stories for now, and also trying to avoid his re-invitiation to a French restaurant that we managed to get out of last night.

Walked along to the river through a herd of cows. Asked the boatman who was asleep, how much for a long boat up the river (we had priced in town 100,000 Kip for 1 hour). The man nodded and spoke only in Lao, then shouted across the river to somebody. The fella across the river was soon in a boat and coming over, and we still did not know the price. The boat pulled up and he prepared the cushins and seats and ushered us on. We asked how much and he thought a while and said 90,000 Kip, we agreed, though when we got off on his side of the river afterwards we saw a sign for 80,000. He then took us for a fair way up the river, against the fast flowing current and through various kayakers (we never saw anybody tubing at that time of morning). Some stunning scenery from the river of the shards of mountains and the blue sky backdrop – only ruined by our driver who persisted in sharply blowing snot out of his nose into the river every 5 minutes. An hour later dropped in town, and small one brought a Dragon Fruit from the air strip markets. Had lunch in a slightly grotty, house front cafe – in which after we'd ordered from the mother, a little boy in school uniform cycled through the middle of the cafe and into the back room, then came out and gave us our food. Then back to the guest house and spoke with Joe and the cat, before back to the room to plan the next stop.

Stayed in the clammy room all afternoon, dozing and looking up hotels. Out in the guest house restaurant for dinner, and met Al' who was still up for his french restaurant down the road... we declined. He was quiet after that. Joe came out and sat a while, he spoke about his brother in law's little 4 year old Lao girl who was running around the bar. He called her over and told us that she wasn't exactly pretty, she had the face of an old woman. We ordered sweet and sour chicken again and ordered the rice seperatley as last time it came with none and we were told it was not included. This time we got the sweet and sour and two helpings of rice, apparently today's cook thought it did come with it, but still gave us the separate helping as well.

Thursday 7^th November 2013 – Vang Vieng, Laos

After breakfast we rented a scooter motorbike and hit the road with Grampa Walton. Up the dusty rocky dirt tracks through some amazing scenary, and past small bamboo homes where locals were weaving blankets. Stopped at the Blue Lagooon swimming hole, where people were diving off the top of a 4 metre high tree into the water..... Grampa was soon down to his swimming shorts and he was up the top of that tree asking us to get a video of him jumping in. Sure enough he did it, and the young athletic guys who hadn't the nerve to do it, said he'd have to now that Grampa Walton had. Next we hit the bikes again, riding past several naked children which Al managed to get in the background of a photo of us (“your little buddy there's in the photo with his dick hanginng out”). Stopped off at another lagoon and a cave walk, and had to pay a local man 10,000 Kip each (around $1usd) for entry. The cave was a big hike up a rocky hill, which Grampa didn't make it. He cave was a sudden decsent with a bamboo ladder into pure darkness and we had no torch, so had to just hike back down. At the bottom we set off on our bikes only to find both our tanks had been drained – and we were empty. That bastard local fella had siphoned us both despite us paying him a dollar – and we had both near full tanks. Made it back to the Guest house at least and sat down and had lunch.

We were joined by owner, Joe – who told us about his extension work he was doing. He showed Tall one and Small one the site and the prospect of them to come back and help next year – at one point letting out a loud fart without comment. He was doing most handy work hiimself, but said he did have one worker (a local Lao fella) but he had apparently hurt is wrist and couldn't work.... he told this story to several people with some disdain. Whilst at lunch there were a few different couples sat round the bar, everyone was in silence as each person was on a laptop. Joe mentioned that this was like the new weed, all people did was sit staring at their computers and couples didn't even talk.... though he admitted he sat on his Internet for hours. He also mentioned how no guests do anything original here, they all do the same sightseeing, same activities, and how no one takes the time to look at the scenery anymore, it's all about just getting a photo, then once that's taken they walk home – they don't actually stop to look and take it in.

After eating we headed off again over the toll bridge and into the town. Across the old air strip, filled up on gas and then down a 6km very long, very steep, very bumpy dirt road to get to a 30 metre high waterfall, Kaeng Nyui waterfall. The road got so steep at points Tall one had to get off the back of the scooter to let small one ride up on his own. When we finally got to the car park we were greeted by some locals barbecuing squirrels and chicks on skewers. A short hike up to the falls and we had a swim in one of the plunge pools at the base of the falls, surrounded by butterflies in the forest. Tall one's sandals broke, and after losing his shoes in Cambodia was now just down to one pair of flip flops. We got back to the guest house exhausted, and battered and bruised. Tall one burnt his leg on the bike exhaust, and small one scratched his leg on the bike stands each side of the bike. We were both pretty tired from listening to Al's endless stories which grow each time we here them.... he now seems to have had 3 wives and not 2 and has 5 children and not 2??

Had dinner up town and booked our bus to Luang Prabang for Saturday (6 hours, 70,000 Kip). The young guy 'Joy' we spoke to yesterday remembered both our names.... 'Michael Jackson' and 'Corner'. The town was busy around 6-7pm with a lot of very noisy, hideous (mostly British) backpackers getting back from tubing pissed up – it put us off the tubing. Had some food in a bar by the river and then headed back to the guest house. Sat and had a few Beer Laos with Al, Joe, Nicholas and a young Chinese fella (the latter two smoking like chimneys). Al (Grampa) was making some inappropriate jokes about doing it doggie style with his girlfriend and using her back as an ashtray. Al's dinner arrived, which was a vegetable baguette, he opened it up and showed it to owner, Joe and asked - “tell me this, how come I get the same sandwich as yesterday but with half the amount of vegetables?”. Joe's dry response was, “well a different person makes it time don't they.... this isn't fucking McDonalds with a standardised fucking menu, if you want more vegetables go to the kitchen and ask for more and i'm sure they'll give you some it's not fucking rocket science is it?”. We were also soon joined by a large dutch girl stroking the local cat, and a thin, weedy New Zealand man wearing a red silk shirt. The Kiwi chipped in with a few pedantic comments and seemed a bit of a geek. He then thank Joe for recommending the sunset, to which Joe responded, “it wasn't the sunset I recommended was it, I said the sky was good to see not the sunset”.... “oh yes” said the Kiwi man with a nervous laugh, Joe then asked, “glad you got to see it then, you managed to drag yourself away from your computer than did you.... you get a good photo then did you, take lot's of pictures did you?”. To us everything Joe says sounds like an insult, but not sure how this little Kiwi fella felt. Apparently th Kiwi fella's job back home was correcting the grammer in newspaper. Nicolas asked small one for an irish joke, to which he told him, “whats the difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral...... at the funeral there's one less drunk”. The Kiwi man then chipped in with his nervous laughter that, “it should actually be, 'there's one fewer drunk”. After that most people went o bed.

Wednesday 6^th November 2013 – Vang Vieng, Laos

Awoken in a bamboi hut by the incessant crowing of jungle fowl at 5am. Had a restless nights sleep – though was nice to lie in bed listening to the sounds of the crickets and Geckos at night (and the German girl throwing up in the room next door, separated by only a thin sheet of woven bamboo). Had a refreshing cold shower and then sat out in the bar area and had museli with fruit and yoghurt. Watched the local herd of about fifteen cows wander by on the dusty road outside the entrance, though they seemed to have no leader and just decide to turn around and wander back to the river the way they come (they did this all day).

The bar area was filled with lots of couples and families, who all seemed to be french. One french woman (late 30's-early 40s) was departing on a tandem bicycle, with her 8 year old daugther on the middle peddles and behind the bike towed a small trailer with a little baggage and a 3-4 year old son sat comfortably in the chair. Small one spoke to her and she had apparently been cycling Asia for the last 6 months with her children (and come down from China), and said her husband would be joining her next month.... and away they went. We were then joined in the bar by an American man named Al (in his early 60s) who was travelling alone (met a few American men travelling alone in Laos). We thought he look like Granpa Walton with his slicked back white fuzzy hair, bushy white moustache and large jowels – however he corrected us that he was going for the Mark Twain look. He had 5 dautghers between the ages of 20-40, and he had been travelling alone for the last 8 months, and had been in China for most of that time (though had said he'd been travelling for some 30 years). He'd been twice married and twice widowed. He had planned to go to Cambodia and Thailand, but had found Vang Vieng much to his liking and so had been here over a week and planned not to go anywhere else. We chatted a while (he did all the talking) and he showed us his small palm size computer which he seemed glued to - chatting with his dautgher;s and the 50 year old Chinese girlfriend left behind in China.

After breakfast wandered round the bushy garden, and checked out the various bungalows on stilts scattered around, and the vast amongst of butterflies round the area. Went for a short walk up the dusty road (same path as the cows) and turned off after a few minutes over a bamboo fence and along a path through the Paddy Fields to a signed cave. Past a small hut with a waving baby and small family cutting hay, and then before the cave we had to stop at a self made little bamboo shelter and pay 10,000 Kip each to see the cave (round a dollar). The cave turned out to be a deep recess in the cliff, and may or may not have led further inside, but the only path was a very small hands and knees sized path and we had brought no torch. We watched a small swarm of ants carrying out the cave a large segment of giant centipede and then walked back along the dry river bed.

Back at the bar we sat and had a couple of hours drinking the large bottles of Beer Lao. We drank with the owner, Joe (age 67) – who was originally from Waterford, Ireland – but had moved to the UK and a young age (his accent was mostly UK). He had travelled a lot over the years and been set up here with the guest house for about 13 years? Run with his 42 year old Lao wife, Wan – and their children, and her family. Joe helped himself to a little of our Beer Lao, though said he didn't drink beer (his drink was Baileys). There was a wildness to the man as he sat and talked with us, quite entertaining in a peculiar, unnerving sort of way. He told us about how nowadays he doesn't like to meet people, refering to German women as cunts (he swore a lot), and the cheek of guests who buy cans of drink from the shop across the road and then come to him and ask for a fucking glass of ice and then another glass as he gave him too much ice..... fuck off he'd want to tell them, them and the people who leave their vegetables in his drink fridge, or decide to hang out their underwear to dry on the bamboo fence in the bar / restaurant instead of on the multitude of washing lines round the gardens and rooms. We were also joined by a Belgium / Canadian fella in his mid twenties, or spoke of setting up a Chocolate / Coffee making shop back home for an expected 400,000 euros a year.

After the beers we wondered into Vang Vieng town, up the side of the river and across the rickety free bridge which Cambodian children were jumping off into the clear river waters. Stopped in Gary's Irish Bar and had Spagehetti Bologaniase, and Bangers and Mash which was quite good. Headed back to the Guest House, where outside in front of the bar two of the local mongrel dogs (both looking like Dingos) were 'tied' or 'knotted' and a tug of war insued on the road.... seems to be a popular past time for dogs in this country, our first day in Vientiane we saw 3 different pairs if dogs shagging. We joined Al in the bar and continued to drink Beer Lao. We mentioned the dogs to Al and he told us this had happened to him once... but the dog wasn't to happy about it. Tall one had a Ken Phong soup recommended by Al, Al went back to his room to get the cucumber he'd brought that day and asked us if we saw the waiter guy to order him some cheese..... small one asked “cheese what”, “oh just some cheese” said Al, yeah but cheese with what? Asked small one, “just cheese” said Al. We saw the waiter fella and deicided not to order the cheese. When Al got back he got his plate of cheese slices himself and sat and diced up his own cucumber and sat and ate the two together, talking endlessly about China. We were joined later by Joe, whose wife made him a few Baileys. Joe continued to tell us stories of his unpleasant guests and we discussed some specific bad reviews we had read on trip advisor. After too many beers headed to be around 10pm.

Tuesday 5^th November 2013 – Vientiane to Vang Vieng, Laos

Downstairs for breakfast and the lobby was heaving with Japanese who had ransacked the free coffee and breakfast and had taken over all the free chairs. We finally found some free chairs outside the front doors and had a Banana Pancake for breakfast. We were collected in an open top truck at 9.15am, and made a few stops to pick up other tourists, before we were all dropped off at a long bus in the centre of town. This bus was far from conventional, and had 5 large leather, high backed chairs on the back row, but that's where the rows stopped as the other seating wa sjust benches round the outside of a hollowed out bus. We managed to get on the back row seats, past two dopey, typical British laddy Backpackers who we're already on the bus before us laid out along the benches looking hung over.

Over the next twenty minutes more and more trucks arrived dropping off tourists, until all seats and benches were crammed, and then all standing space was crammed.... we we're wondering if the whole 3-4 hour trip was like this, but an American man (who spent the journey talking politics with a backpacker from Iraq) said he'd done the trip before and we transferred to a proper V.I.P. Bus soon. Sure enough after half an hour we all moved on to a bus (the same size) that had proper seats and was quite comfortable (no TV blaring Asian music videos either). Journey was then the expected 304 hours, some great scenery towards the end coming in to Vang Vieng over rivers, and past the abrupt shard like hills and ranges. The driver drove like a lunatic, though we are starting to expect it.

Dropped in Vang Vieng we were then ushered on to another minibus which dropped us in the centre of town outside a hostel. We were pestered to go to various hostels, but instead just walked away and headed for the river. Walking for twenty minutes with bags on, the heat wasn't oo bad – as Laos doesn't seem as humid as Cambodia. Down the river found the wooden bridge crossing the river and had to pay the 4,000 Kip toll for a foot passenger (there are two other's further up which are free). Across the river past the usual stray dogs and mangy chickens, past the small children bathing in the river and motorbikes driving through the water – and we found up the dusty road the Maylyn Guest House.

A few guests were sat in the nice bar area, and two Lao women were in the open windowed kitchen. One came out and showed us the room, which was one of three bamboo cabins in a row, with a balcony seat, own bathroom (toilet flush the pan of water system, and cold shower) with mosquiote net over the bed and a fan on the wall. Was very rustic, and in a lovely setting away from the usual streets we had been used to, and instead nestled in a sort of over grown garden full of various sized and coloured butterflies, and alongside a stream coming off the main river.

Sat and had a cold Beer Lao, before a brief walk along the river and back for a Sweet and Sour chicken. The bill system was a system for honest guests, as by reception was a rack of books each with the room numbers on – when you took a beer out the fridge you just wrote in your room's book how many you had. When you wanted to order dinner, you wrote your order in the book and handed it to the kitchen. When you left (and you didn't need to book a number of nights, as it was just a day by day basis with no advance bookings) they would tally up your book and you pay when you leave. The place was run by Joe, an Irishman from Waterford – who'd been out cutting wood all day, and his Lao wife (we presume) was the lady who checked us in.

Monday 4^th November 2013 – Vientiane, Laos

Out the smelly room and downstairs for breakfast (they were out of bananas). Had a sachet coffee and an omelette with rock hard baguette sat outside – looking at an enormous butterfly. Had a wonder round the town, past That Dam, then a moldy book store, then round the Talat Sao mall and Khua Din Market. Next stop was the free UXO Museum / Visitor Centre called 'Cope', where we watched a short movie about the affect of unexploded bombs still have on Laos residents – more bombs dropped in Laos than through all of WWII – this was during the Vietnam war and the Americans used to 'dump' their left over bombs in Laos before returning to base ad they could not land safely with them.

Back in to town and priced a day trip out to the reserve/forest of Phou Khao Khouay, but was quoted around 100 USD each!! Cancelled our third night here and changed our booking to leave a day earlier. After lunch in a Scandinavian bakery we took a Tuk Tuk out to the Budha Park. We agreed a price of 150,000 Kip with our driver (about $20), he took started driving around towwn and we realized his Tuk Tuk was essentially a piece of shit, struggling to tow us and wondered how it would make this 50km roudn trip. Ten minutes in the man pulled over and told us to get in to another Tuk Tuk with another driver.... fair enough. We then set off in a new Tuk Tuk, but this fella stopped by a car where a woman stood holding the door open, we thought we were then changing yet again – but thankfully had stopped for some other reason and took off again. The seats on the Tuk Tuk were so narrow, you could only perch on the edge which was not comfortable as it bounced along dusty unsealed roads. We ended up just sitting on the floor of the Tuk Tuk – and had many locals laughing at us as we drove by, for sitting in the wrong place.

Budha Park was quite good, though an hours drive each way outside of town. A high density of some quite entertaining Budha statues amongst many animal statues, as well as a tall dome like structure you could wind your way up inside. When we went to leave we waved to our Tuk Tuk driver who had just lit a cigarette, and stood waiting for him as we smoked until we realized that ur driver was in fact stood the other side of the car park and we had never met this fella smoking (he was wearing the same coloured shirt).

Later that evening wondered out to find some dinner. Past the Nam Phou fountain which only seems to be on at night. An Indian man stopped us to try food at his restaurant, and after looking we looked at the menu for 5 minutes he told us our choice would not be ready for another hour – so we moved on. Stopped at another restaurant and looked at their BBQ menu outside their front door, only for the waiter to then point to the menu and then point to the restaurant the otherside of the street, apparently that is where this menu was for....?? We finally chose a large restaurant and got seated on some high stools by the footpath and one of those signs telling you how far to different parts of the world. We reviewed the menu and then failed to get the attention of one of the many many Laos waiters dressed in red. We finally got the female hostess in green to come over and asked if we could now order, to which she shook her head and said, “no” and walked off. In the end our order was taken, small one had an amazing Mushroom soup, whilst tall one had sticky rice roasted inside bamboo with some pork, chicken, beef BBQ skewers – was very good. On way back priced some buses and trains – have so far found Laos very expensive compared to Cambodia – with Hotel's being cheap at $20 (in Vientiane anyway), and most meals being nearer to $10USD than the $5 we were used to each. Though our 3 hour bus to Vang Vieng tomorrow was only $5, and postcards were only 30 cents (though stamps around $1.25).

Sunday 3^rd November 2013 – Phnom Penh, Cambodia to Vientiane, Laos

Hung around our hotel and restaurant until 2pm – putting up with Tuk Tuk drivers asking if we needed a Tuk Tuk despite the fact that we were sat down in front f our computers eating and drinking. Then just after 2pm took a $7 Tuk Tuk to the airport. Sat in the quite small departures area surrounded by Japanese, Polish and one strange old man wondering round with a suit case on wheels which he kept leaving in different places then wondering off for a while, before coming back to move it again.

Boarded our half empty Vietnam Airlines plane at 6pm and the pilot greeted us all by saying, “Good evening Ladies and Germans.....”. After take off we were served a small dinner, which we had not expected. Was a cold salad, which had some of that processed light pink ham – the kind that used to have smiley faces printed on it when you were a kid. Played on their many automatically folding in and out mini TV screens was this bizarre English looking 'pranked' hidden camera show, involving a women's dog running under a hedge and being run over by a lawn mower.....

Flight was only an hour and a half to the capital of Laos, Vientiane. As we flew into the City at night struck by the many small coloured dots of the lights below – yellow, orange, green, red and white dots of light – and then the dark black abyss of the Mekong river cutting through the middle of it all. Was a fast bumpy landing and then we were quickly at Immigration. We had come prepared with our visa on arrival forms and passport photos already done, but others didn't have these things and were sent to back of queue. The process too apply for the visa had three desk in a row, each with a different man with a number over his head (1, 2, 3). The number one man took your form and photo and slid it up to the next man number 2 and you moved up with it. Number 2 printed the visa and stuck it in then past it to number 3 man and you moved up, and number 3 man took the payment.... it was like buying a Subway sandwich as you moved up the Delhi counter to choose your bread, then the cheese, then the salads.... We then went through immigration, and the usual cheerless man seemed to be having a coughing fit as he stamped tall one's passport.

Paid for a $7USD taxi to the City Centre and waited outside for the man to get the taxi. One pulled up and we started loading the bags, and then our taxi driver who we'd already agreed to give the token to pulled up behind us shouting that he was over there – so we had to take our bags out this other taxi upsetting this new taxi driver. Driving in through the City the actual streets, buildings and people looked visually so similar to Cambodia, that we could have just arrived at another town in the same country.

Dropped off at the Mixok Inn 2 blocks up from the Mekong river front. In the downstairs reception was a young Lao lad was was sprawled out in a chair watching TV with his feet up. He glanced at us as we came in and walked casually over to the desk – took a while to explain to him that we wanted a double room and yes we knew it only had one bed in the room. Was $20USD for the night, though their website had advertised $22. Reception also had a big sign stating that in Laos they only except Lao Kip and not dollars, but then the lad took our USD anyway. Up to the 4^th floor for our room, and it stunk of fags, and had strange brown stains splashed on the ceiling, and some very small ants swarming out the door frame – other than that it was perfect.

Around 8pm and we headed out to have a brief look round the main street and draw out some Kip from the ANZ am machine. The streets were eerily quiet, and there was no constant flow of motorbikes, most people seemed to be driving cars. There were a few Tuk Tuks (there had been none at the airport only taxi cars), and the Lao Tuk Tuks were more like Thailand's – like a giant motorized tricycle, compared to Cambodia's which were a whole motorbike towing a trailer with seats. The driver's asked us the usual, “Tuk Tuk sir?”, but instead of following with the Cambodian question, “you want weed?”, they asked “you want girls?”. Sure enough up the dark empty streets there seemed to be a lot of tall Cambodian girls with long bare legs. Down at the water front and there were some River front Night Markets, a long row of red topped marque tents light up. The usual general crafts, tourist tat and clothing. But a strange experience after being so used to the Cambodian market stalls and being heckled at every single stall to buy something, at this one we were stopped by nobody at all – and walked in complete uninterrupted silence browsing stalls. At one pointed when we wanted to price some shirts we couldn't even find the seller to speak to, let alone be heckled by one. On the way back to the Hotel stopped in a small cafe and small one had a chicken burger (though essentially was a salad roll with some thin slices of chicken) and Tall one had a surprisingly decent Flat white coffee and a funny tasting Kit Kat. Back through the Hotel foray and the lad at reception was back reclined in his chair watching the TV.