It’s a little before 6pm in Vientiane, and a bright orange bus has just pulled up and parked temporarily into bay A1, partially covered under the corrugated iron roof of the bus station. Neon letters glow on the display adorning the windscreen, and for those that can’t read Vietnamese a placard reading ‘Hanoi’ is propped up against the glass.

A few yards away sits a plastic table serving as a simple check-in desk, and two women stand behind it gradually thinning the line in front of them.

“Next!”

I exchange our hastily handwritten written receipt for our seat numbers, and stow our bags into the hold. By the door, a small babble of people have already been congregating eager to board. It looks to be a roughly 50/50 split of backpackers and locals, either continuing their journey or returning home.

From the outside the bus almost looks like it has two decks, with two rows of windows that are all blocked out by closed curtains. When we climb up the steps to board though we can see the inside is actually made up of three aisles of tightly packed bunk-beds. Well, more like bunk-pods really. Like a thin dodgem car with just enough space for one person, slightly stretched into a lying down position. If you could turn over, you would fall flat on your face on the floor. 

As I start to walk towards the pods, the driver thrusts a green plastic bag into my hands and then shouts a few words at me while pointing at my shoes. “Sorry?”. The aisles of the bus are carpeted in patterned red, and I twig from the tone of the mans’ voice that he takes great pride in keeping them clean.

Of course it is pretty hot in southern Laos in March, so my shoes today are actually sandals. So pretty soon I find myself making my way down the narrow aisles in bare feet, trying to locate our beds.

“Sweet! Our beds are the biggest on the bus!”, is the first warming thought that crosses my mind when I find our numbers right at rear. Unfortunately, any fleeting feeling that we have somehow lucked out is short lived and quickly replaced with the realisation that this journey might end up being a little.. awkward.

At the back of the bus is a single area that looks on first glance to be a sort of double bed, an area where two people can lie down side by side. On closer inspection though, and after testing, this notion of ‘bed‘ is quickly downgraded to something more akin to ‘plastic shelf that lies between toilet and window‘. If you lie down with your legs straight, your head hits a wooden box which no matter how hard you will it, it really does not want to be a pillow. If you choose to instead put your head on the actual, rather thin but supplied pillow, then your legs are now bent double and sticking out over the end of the shelf. Hopefully your feet are reasonably clean so you don’t annoy the people below you.

Still, considering the price of the bus was only 180k LAK (about £18), can you really complain?

At this point the bus starts to fill up, and as another couple starts hesitating at the bottom of our feet, we realise that this cramped pocket of personal sanctuary is actually destined for three people. Oh.

“Erm, hey… So where are you from?”

And the realisation that endless stuttered small-talk is most likely less awkward than lying down and attempting to sleep, where if you turn onto your side you end up with your head 2 inches from another girls neck, who clearly feels like she has drawn the short straw and is slowly creeping into the plastic casing in-front of her.

Rethinking

Looking back down the bus, one thing becomes quite obvious. Everyone at the rear is a foreign backpacker, and everyone at the front is a local. In the middle, all of the pods are empty. This is either some strange coincidence, or there is some clear segregation going on. What’s more, the passengers at the front are nicely spread out with ample space between them, while we’re all crammed in like sardines.

It seems I’m not the only one who has noticed this, as a Spanish brother and sister migrate from the very rear, on a similar shelf arrangement beneath our shelf, to individual berths in the middle of the bus.

Taking the same initiative, me and Abi quickly move into a couple of pods on the upper level also.

Much better! Each pod has a little holder with a bottle of water and a toothbrush, and on the side a hook to hang the plastic bag for your shoes. There’s also a small blanket which is welcome with the level of the air conditioning, and a pillow. It just takes a bit of skill to keep the pillow safely under your head without it falling down and sticking into your back, as there’s nothing to secure it in place and what you’re lying on is essentially a slightly slippy thin piece of plastic coated foam. But we start trying to get comfortable.

“Get off my bus!” “Off! Off my bus!” comes shouts that are quickly rising to an angry crescendo as the driver hastily makes his way down to the Spanish backpackers. At first there is a general sense of confusion as to what is happening, but it quickly becomes clear that the driver is very unhappy that they have moved from their beds. The guy tries to argue his case that these pods were free, and that there is no way three people can realistically be expected to cram into the rear. This logic seems to be lost in translation though, as back-up arrives who also make their way down the bus shouting angrily.

For a while, the rest of us on the bus are unsure exactly what to do, and in fact are not really sure what exactly is happening. The confrontation escalates to the point where one of the drivers friends leans over, grabs their bags, and starts snatching them away just as they catch a hold of them from the other side. The tug-of-war happens for a few seconds, at which point the whole atmosphere is pretty tense. Considering we’re still parked up on stand A1 yet to commence our journey, this can put you a little on edge.

Ten minutes later, and we’re finally pulling out of the bus station. The Spaniards are still on the bus, but have relegated themselves back to the shelf in order to appease the driver. Somehow, we are still in our new pods. Ok, this time we have lucked out.

The Journey

As we set off down the road we get our first listen to a sound we’re going to have to get used to.

“Barp!!”. “Barp Barp!”. 

There’s not really any vehicle in front of the bus, but the driver seems to like pressing the horn anyway. My guess is it lets out some kind of speed boost so he is keen to keep hitting it all the way to make good time.

Unfortunately I don’t have any earplugs, but since our journey is 24 hours and we’ll be travelling pretty much non-stop, we’ve been sure to pick up some other essentials. Crisps? Check. Loo roll? Check. Water, apples? Check.

I also have my cherished travel companion, my Kindle, and a few movies saved onto Abi’s iPad. So as initial chit-chat getting to know our fellow sardines dwindles when they start to drift off into a deep, valium-induced sleep, I’m watching Little Miss Sunshine and learning random QI facts. Did you know that in the 19th and early 20th century people used to have all their teeth replaced with false ones as a popular 21st birthday present? Neither did I, and after a few more nuggets of wisdom and another movie I finally manage to drift off.

That is, until my dreams are abruptly halted by the sound of water and a squeaky sponge. Somewhat confused, Abi peels back the curtain and gives a little start to see a mop about an inch from her face, only separated by the thin sheet of glass. Despite the fact that we’ve been driving through a storm and it is in fact still raining, it seems our driver really does take pride in his bus, enough to stop the journey mid-way and give it a little clean.

As the wheels turn and the night draws on, I’m gradually able to drift back off into a light sleep despite my somewhat uncomfortable position.

The engine shuts off abruptly around 4am, and with it the coloured lights go out for the first time. We must have arrived at the Vietnam border. Outside the window a violent lightning storm is engulfing the sky and flashes of light from all around are momentarily revealing the line of other buses lined up in-front and behind us. Despite the storm we are looking forward to tasting some fresh air and stretching our legs properly for the first time in about 10 hours. 

Almost 3 hours later, when the doors are finally opened, we take our final dreary eyed steps over Laos soil. Apparently despite the border not actually opening till 7am, the busses all arrive early and camp out. Guess the traffic round here in these sparsely populated hills must be a nightmare sometimes!

Entering Vietnam

The crossing is the Nam Phao International Checkpoint, which lies about midway down the Laos Eastern border. A tarmac road leads up to what looks like an ornate toll both, and off to one side is a doorway into the the passport control area. A well used toilet-block stands nearby, and a few tables and chairs littered around are drenched with rain.

Inside, we pass through a small corridor until we reach two control windows, where sitting behind a sliver of glass sits a few Vietnamese officials.

Now first thing in the morning we find ourselves playing a game that a couple of Brits are destined to lose. The premise of the game is simple, take your passport and deliver it to the officer that stands a couple of meters in front of you, and collect your exit stamp. Sounds easy enough, until you factor in your competitors. For each foreign traveller attempting to secure their own stamp, there is at least one Vietnamese bus driver who is attempting to secure an early exit for all of his passengers in one swoop. Dozens of them squeeze forward into spaces you would think only a toddler could find, clutching a twined wad of 30 of so passports in his hand, whilst simultaneously thrusting them into them into the air towards the window and shouting for attention.

It’s a scene that resembles the floor of the stock exchange in Wolf of Wall Street. As foreigners we watch as our passports that eventually reach the other side of the glass form the base of a pile whose height makes it clear we’re not going anywhere soon.

After almost an hour of playing the game, it turns out our bus was collectively awful its performance. But eventually we pick up our validated passports, and are able to walk back out into the crisp morning air, and out towards Vietnam.

“Hey, that’s my bag!”

As it turns out, in the time that we’ve been waiting, our bags have already made it a little further on and are now sitting in a large pile on the roadside at the mercy of the elements. The bus driver has apparently ejected all of the bags from the bus, to initiate a somewhat pointless exercise where we now individually collect our bags and put them back on. It seems to be some kind of last minute check that every article is accounted for before we cross the border.

On the other side of the border we wait for the bus to pass through, and I enjoy my first taste of Vietnam. A polystyrene burger carton stuffed full of rice and huge slabs of squidgy tofu like meat. Sounds horrible? You’d be right. Fortunately though, this turns out to be a complete anomaly in the otherwise delights of this country’s cuisine. Guess service station food is just bad everywhere.

Back on the bus, I swap beds with Abi and can finally, almost, stretch out my legs. It turns out her bed was slightly longer, which would have been useful to find out some hours ago! This time I’m able to drift into a deep sleep for the remainder of the journey as our next country starts to pass by out the window. I’m glad we took the bus, it’s the longest ride I’ve ever taken before and aside from a few hiccups along the way, we arrived on schedule.

So after a full day mostly spent immobile, we stumble out dreary and tired into the chaotic streets of Hanoi, one adventure complete and ready for the next one. After passing out on an actual bed for another 12 hours or so, anyway.

“I can see you”

The driver of a black estate has stopped a short way from us on the dusty road. We’re hot and sweaty, and the remains of an ice cream is still making its way down into my stomach, and apparently, onto my shorts also.

Behind us lies Wat Xiang Thong temple, where I’ve been practicing my ability to sound a gong with only my hands. This gong is smaller than I’ve seen before in Thailand and the technique is different; I struggle for a while to make a sound audible over the scratching of my fingers against the bare metal. And then, the resonance of the dinner plate sized disk reverberates around the room as people turn to orient towards the sound.

The car that now lies in front of us stands out from the battered motorcycles scattered around the otherwise empty road. It is clean, and our surroundings reflect in the bodywork. We walk over to it, get in, and it pulls away. 

We don’t know our driver, and only have a vague sense of where we are heading. Fifteen minutes earlier we had been walking down a side street when a flyer caught Abi’s eye, pinned to a wall fronting Mount Phou Si. 

“Volunteers Needed”

Now, we’re heading out of the town. We learn our driver is Kon, and we’re on our way back to school.

Teaching English, learning Laos

Kon drives us to a primary school on the outskirts of Luang Prabang, where the children are just arriving for their optional after-school class: English. Today they’re more excited and inquisitive than usual, and they’re not hiding it, as they sneak glances and giggles in our direction. 

We’re given a bottle of water and take a seat to the side, observing the start of the lesson as we lather ourselves with deet in a laborious attempt to ward off the next round of bugs. We are still none-the-wiser of what we’re going to be doing. At this point when presented with this situation, a thought might enter your mind, as it did mine:

“Crap, I’ve never taught in a school before! What if they’re really advanced! … What’s a possessive pronoun again?!”

We wait with half-baited breath as Kon starts chalking letters on the blackboard. 

“January… February… ”

Ok, phew. We’re good.

We spend an hour leading the class, having them go through the months of the year in unison and individually, and put them into simple sentences about themselves. 

“My birthday is in May… when is your birthday?”

As I am walking around, I notice neatly handwritten tables with the English months and their Laos equivalent in their exercise books. It seems they have gone through this before in a previous lesson or homework, some more thoroughly than others. 

After ten minutes we’ve exhausted our stock of months to make sentences with and it feels like we’re starting to repeat ourselves as we pass from table to table making sure everyone has a chance to practice.  There’s only so many times you can ask a person what their favourite month is before they start to think you have amnesia. Flipping back a couple of pages in one of their books we discover a gold mine of building blocks; days of the week and numbers. Great! 

This new depth is enough to keep the class engaged, until at the end of the hour and with shrieks of glee from the class, Kon presents us with a stack of picture cards. Aha, bingo! Literally.

The kids are gathered in small groups with grids of cards laid out in front of them. We’re calling the cards. 

“Table”. “Orange”. “House”…. “Car”. “Tree”.

“Bingo! Bingo!” 

Nice work! They earn some points that get added to a total for their team. I’m hoping it translates to chocolate or some other delectable treat at the end of term. 

Ah, there’s not a 4×4 in sight! Instead, an assortment of scooters and motorbikes of varying wear are waiting to whisk the class home.

But some parents also stop to practice a few words with us; they seem pretty happy with the opportunity, we’re happy to oblige! ‘Baw Pen Nyung!’ 

This was not the first thing we thought we would be doing this evening, but was very rewarding and fun. With that feeling Kon drops us back at our bed-bug ridden hostel, and back into the real world.

Monks on the Mount 

Earlier, we hiked up to the top of Mount Phou Si, a 100m high hill sitting in the centre of the old town. From the top are some great panoramic views looking out in different directions towards the Mekong river on one side and the Nam Khan river on the other. It’s a great thing to do when you first arrive to get an idea of the area, or so we heard and then validated.

Climbing up the Mount is a popular thing to do. It can get busy around sunset, but a little earlier in the day there were only a handful of others walking around with us. It’s free apart from the summit, which will see you cough up 20k kip (~£2).

This area is flowing with Buddhist activity; Halfway up the hill is Wat Tham Phou Si, and at the summit is Wat Chom Si. At the base, we discovered a monk school. One of the staff happily gave us some info, and pointed us towards some steps heading up to the Mount. In front of us, a group of monks on their break were getting a head start.

Half way up a couple of young monks stopped to look at the view. With a mixture of my very basic Laos words and their broken English we found out a little about each other.

Mi and his friend (sorry, forgot the name!) live in a temple around the corner during the week. Every weekend they take a boat back to their village, and pointed towards it to show us. While they’re studying they have everyday subjects, interspersed with Buddhist teachings. Of course, they also enjoy movies, playing with their phones and Facebook, and were happy when I joined them for a selfie. 

Luang Prabang Night Market

Heading down from the Mount puts you near the location of the night market, which happens every evening from 5-11pm. It starts at Wat Mai and runs along Sisavangvong Road. The road is closed to traffic, which is necessary not just for ease of access. Stalls line, or rather sit, straight down the middle of the road as well as bordering on both sides.

The area is bustling with people, especially tourists; Luang Prabang attracts a lot of them with the ease of access provided from the international airport. Despite that, it’s worth visiting, and we enjoyed walking around and checking out all of the goods on display.

After walking around for a while, you start to see the same wares over and over again. Table runners, bags, t-shirts, fruit bowls, cards… hey we’re back to table runners! It reminded me of that Simpsons episode where Bart and Lisa are walking through the Itchy and Scratchy animation studios. You know, this one.

Travelling with hand luggage only means an easy get-out-of-sale free card in these situations, as you can’t physically take anything home unless it is super small and super light. I’m very transparently pleased by this. That is, until something slightly less backpacker friendly catches someone’s eye… 

“Oo pretty”

Looks like we’ll be shipping a package home then! To be fair, it is a nice table runner, even if I have seen it multiple times. 

Situated down one of the side streets is what my eye was looking out for. We had heard word of a very cheap and very tasty buffet just off from the market. We found it, and the murmurings were true.

Top tip: You can have as much as you want on your plate, but you can only fill it once. No seconds! There’s also a number of different buffet options next to each other in the same alley. The alley is just off from the market, on the side towards the Mekong.

Laos doesn’t have the same prevalence of great street food (read: pat thai) that Thailand has, so it was nice to find this as an alternative to some of the more expensive restaurants.

We ate around here a couple of nights. Not only tasty, but it is well suited to the backpacker; Travelling light applies to everything, including your wallet.

After the night market has sufficiently satiated your hunger, you might be in search of something to do. With limited options, the main hive of activity seems to be centred at Utopia. This is a bar and restaurant located down a winding path to a spot of land on the banks of the Nam Khan river. 

It is not your standard bar, but is more like a scenic, laid-back open-air hangout with nice views, food, and cheap drinks, enjoyed either from the comfort of a chair or cushioned mat. We met some friends here and enjoyed some Beer Lao. At 7k kip or around 75p… drink up! 

But, not for too long. Around 11pm when the bar is crowded to the gunnels, it shuts down. Actually, every bar does. Luang Prabang enforces a strict curfew of 11.30pm for all businesses. We were unaware of this on our first night, so it was quite a sight watching the most popular place in town literally empty in a matter of minutes.

At this point, the only thing left to do is hop into one of the many tuk-tuks that have now arrived at the entrance.

And go ten-pin bowling.

That’s right, the only “officially” licensed place for social life after 11.30pm is the bowling alley on the edge of town. If you ever wondered what it feels like to finish a night out by knocking down some pins with a bunch of alcohol infused young adults then yes… it is a bit surreal.

But you can grab yourself another Beer Lao, even if it is a little more pricey at 10k kip (~£1). Monopoly markup!

Kuang Si Falls

What about daytime activities? This entire city was given UNESCO World Heritage status in 1995, so just walking around and stopping by some temples and cafes is rewarding.

Then if you decide to look up ‘things to do in Luang Prabang’, you will almost certainly be told to visit the Kuang Si Falls. This three-tiered waterfall is 29km South of the city, and is extremely popular. But fortunately, unlike a lot of hyped-up places, this one is worth it. It is a beautiful natural sight, well maintained and free of litter. This is one of those picture-perfect places you imagine when first dreaming of going travelling. 

The sound of the water cascading over the ridges constrasts with the still pools at each level. You’re not limited to looking at it from a walkway either, this is natures’ lido, and swimming is a must.

Even if you have not heard of the falls, you will have after just walking around Luang Prabang. Every tuk-tuk or taxi driver is ready to spot a tourist that isn’t suitably wet enough to have already paid a visit, and offer to whisk you there. Numerous tours also leave every day and cram a selfie-stick loving body onto every seat. This is the downside, one that plagues so many places in Asia. 

As an independent traveller though, you can maximise your time with fewer people. The trick? As usual, go early. A lot of the tours will not leave until later in the morning. We drove up on a bike before the crowds, and left just as they were starting to get annoying. Do the same!

Entry to the falls costs 20k kip (~£2), with parking 2k kip (~20p). That is a lot less than you will pay to take a tour, as you’re not paying your driver to wait outside for your allotted time of enjoyment.

Living in the UK, seeing a waterfall is about as synonymous as taking a dip in your nearest sports centres’ leisure pool. This means the first couple of times you find yourself swimming around a real plunge pool is fantastically fresh. It turns out though that other parts of the world are not so waterfall deprived, and you start to see them cropping up on the map like Starbucks. “What’s there to do around here? Oh… there’s a waterfall we could check out”. Kuang Si was one of the beautiful ones, that stands out from the others. 

UXO Laos

Sadly, Laos isn’t all just temples and waterfalls. It has had a difficult recent history, and holds the unenviable record for being the most bombed country on the entire planet. I only learnt this after we drove back to the city and stopped off at UXO Laos, and found out about the great work they are doing. 

During the Vietnam war more than 580,000 bombing missions took place on Laos. To put that into perspective, that is equivalent to one bombing mission every eight minutes, 24 hours a day, for nine years.

Of the 270 million cluster “bombies” that were dropped, 80 million failed to detonate. Today, 25% of Laos villages have UXO (unexploded ordinance) lying in the ground. It is horrific. 

Inside you can learn about UXO and its many forms, how it is discovered and removed, and what it means to live in a country filled with it.

One discovery that stood out to me was in the field of a primary school. A photo shows the cordoned off grass with flags to mark the danger of imminent death. The day before, children were running around the field playing games. 

Some 40% of the casualties in the last decade were children, not surprising when the bombies look like small balls to be played with. A lot of the rest are scrap metal hunters, driven to the perilous task of seeking out the ordinance to sell for money to look after their families.

UXO Laos is working to educate the locals, aid the cleanup effort, and provide support and rehabilitation for victims. I highly recommend paying a visit if you are in the area.

Back to School

A few days after arriving in Laos we left the city and headed up north on a bus to Nong Khiaw. After the sometimes theme park feel of Luang Prabang, it was quite a refreshing change, and free from the masses. There is a great and somewhat challenging hike up to a viewpoint, fantastic sunsets, and a chance to take a bicycle out the town and into the villages to explore the real Laos, and get a feel for local life.

We rented a couple of bicycles and did this, but after a while I realised I would much rather be running instead.  Naturally, I hid my bike behind a bush and ran after Abi’s bike with first flip flops and then bare feet (when the footwear became too impractical). We passed through a few villages where the locals, for some reason, gave me interesting looks as I high-fived their delighting kids and continued on my way. Great run!

And then after a few days, we headed back down on the bus again, and straight into the classroom. We had enjoyed it so much, we decided to teach again at a different school. This time, we would be teaching older kids.

As we waited at the start of the lesson, that fleeting thought entered again…

“Uh-oh, what if they’re really advanced this time! They’re much older than the first class, and they’re already talking to us in English!”

The class stared with their teacher having us read some sentences on the board.

“I would like to see my sister”

“They would like to go to your house”

“This is my pen”

It turns out we will be teaching possessive pronouns after all. And for the next hour we led the whole lesson.

I’m outside alone on the deck, the door slid shut behind me. With nothing above my head casting any shadow I can feel the afternoon sun beating down intensely from above, but despite the apt name, the ‘slow boat’ I am on affords just enough of a breeze to keep me cool.

It’s peaceful out here, with the gentle hum of the tired motor and the steady splash of the water below the only sounds I hear for half an hour. We’ve only recently stopped, and the wooden panels out the front of the boat that were laden with goods and chickens are now empty. With all the space I now have just enough room to lie down. Instead, I choose to sit off the edge and read, enjoying the clear mind the white noise rewards me with.

Around me and in front of me spreads out the mighty Mekong River, a trans-country mass of water flowing 4350km from China, meandering through Asia and finally breaking free out to the ocean through the delta in Southern Vietnam. A backpacker travelling through this region can look to the Mekong as a silent friend, criss-crossing paths from time to time on their journey.

Today, it is slowly but surely transporting us from Huay Xai on the Thai/Laos border through to Luang Prabang.

Leaving Thailand

A local Thai man of beyond pensionable age was also enjoying a beer, and then some. We had some fun entertainment watching him sing and dance before being scooped up onto a scooter and whisked away by his friend

The route is well travelled, and despite faster options existing for travel from Thailand to Laos, many people choose this boat. Our journey started the day before, from Pai in Northern Thailand. After some great days there we were making our first border crossing, ready to experience a new country, culture, language and currency.

The slow boat takes two days, and as with all travel in Asia is very easy to book in many places all around the area; Pai was no exception. Take a stroll down Walking Street and you will see many offering the same journey. The majority of them are resellers for the same travel companies, so it is for the most part much of a muchness which one to use. We grabbed our tickets from AYA Service, the same company we used for bike rentals,  for TBH 1750 (~£40) each. Especially for Asia, this is a bit of money, but the journey does have a few different legs over a full three days.

Despite there being many ticket sellers, there can be less than enough boats in times of high demand. We were able to get tickets the night before, but not for the time that we had wanted as it was fully booked. If you know your travel plans, booking a couple of days in advance might be worthwhile.

Pai lies hard to reach from anywhere except Chiang Mai, so originating your travel here means the first leg is backtracking down route 1095, the likely road you took to arrive. After our leisurely drive up, going back down in a minivan that had aspirations to join Formula One took only 3 hours.

Reaching Chiang Mai left a short wait to board another bus, giving a chance to educate a fellow traveller in the ways of the bum-gun. For the uninitiated, failure to master the art of this omnipresent toilet accessory could likely leave you caught short, up shit-creek without a paddle, or paper, as it were. Mastery though leads to reverence, and the thought of life without such a device is an unpleasant and laborious one.

The onward journey from Chiang Mai fills up a few more seats before heading to Chiang Rai, where the bus will stop to treat you to a 20 minute look at the White Temple, Wat Rong Khun. Of course, this isn’t really enough time to appreciate it, just enough time that it can be tacked onto your itinerary to make the journey appear better value. We already knew this, and in fact were not planning to visit Chiang Rai this time, but on this route unless you have private transport you will likely stop here.

To actually have some time to look around the White Temple, and Chiang Rai in general, just travel independently here and then you can still book onto a slow boat or other onward travel when you are ready with no issue.

Finally, late in the evening we arrived at our last stop in Thailand, Chiang Khong, which is right on the border and separated from Laos only by the Mekong. Here we would spend the night before the onward boat in the morning. This nights accommodation, albeit very basic, was included in the price of the boat ticket.

A babble of 15 or so travellers descended on this place off the bus where we eagerly waited more time than we would have liked to be able to check into a room and rest. Before this delectable luxury though, we had to fill in our visa forms for the crossing. This is a simple and small bit of paper to fill out, that essentially wants to know where you come from and where you will go. Whether you are cotton or sleepy eyed is not important.

Paperwork complete we awaited our calling from an interesting character running the joint who was very enthusically giggling, singing and cracking jokes. Unfortunately, the joke was on us when it turned out they had overbooked and had one room too few. Doh! We had the short-straw of bundling back into a truck annoyingly far down the road to someone’s house-come-home stay where we enjoyed a night of loud Thai TV.

Slow and steady

Slow boats leave from Huay Xai on the Laos side of the Mekong every morning, a short way from the border crossing over the Friendship Bridge. Before that, it’s a standard process to exit out of Thailand, catch a pointless bus all of a few hundred metres, and then enter into Laos. It actually took longer to load the bus with everyone’s bags than it did to drive across no-mans-land to the other side. This journey costs TBH 20 (~90p), and the visa for Laos $35.

Eventually, all of our stickered group had reached the other side to regroup like an adult school-trip. Here it is a short ride to the boat dock, and the first glimpse of the vessel that will transport you down the river.

Also, the first sight of something amazing. “What’s that?”

“What can you see?”

“A sandwich!”

After a few weeks of delicious noodles and rice, it was never-the-less mouth-watering to see fresh baguettes. The first sign of the French influence here was a welcome one!

Fresh sandwiches in hand, cool Beer Lao in the other, we ventured onto our boat. We had heard that there is limited decent seating so it’s advisable to board early, which we did. The inside of the boat, in a nutshell, is like someone gutted an old bus and chucked all the seats loosely into a wooden box that happens to float.

Being loose the seats could be marketed as “fully-reclinable”; if you keep leaning back, you can reach the floor. Or with “360 degree panoramic bases”, when you can pick up your seat and put it somewhere else more appealling. It’s quite a fun setup, actually.

Some people read, some turn their seats around to chat and play some games, some have a few now warm beers. Generally, at least on our boat, the mood was pretty slow and chilled out. From time-to-time taking a seat outside on the deck, and back for a nap or gazing out of the window at the green hills and the few other boats rolling by.

The boat chugs along for most of the day, a good 6-7 hours, and with no stops aside from to pick up a few local passengers. Relax, there is a toilet (and it’s not the river).

My time outside on my own was thanks to the driver refusing to let anyone else out after me. I’m not sure why and didn’t realise at the time. Not until I eventually left my secluded sun-spot and retreated back inside to interrogate Abi and find out why she hadn’t daned to join me and bring a beer. Turn’s out she was turned away and couldn’t get my attention from the window. This makes sense, with such a pleasing view my eyes were fixed forward.

Eventually, Abi was able to enjoy the cool breeze also.

The boat keeps meandering through the river until it reaches the town of Pat Beng, roughly half way to Luang Prabang. Here, you rest for a night to resume with another full day in the morning.

Pat Beng

Would you come here if you weren’t dropped off with no choice? Probably not. Before the slow boats started making their way down here, you would wonder what, if anything, was actually here.

This little town is formed mainly of a fairly steep hill that makes its way up from the boat dock, lined all the way on both sides with questionable guest houses. Or even more questionable guesthouses in development, hoping to cash in on the abundance of tourists loaded with money but lacking sleep, ready to make a bad accommodation choice amid the scourge of locals trying to convince you why their particular establishment is, in fact, the best.

Fortunately we had friends pass this way shortly before us, who gave the good advice of picking up your bags and walking up the hill, not succumbing to the endless offers being shouted out doors and windows at you until you’re at least a little way from the dock.

After looking at a few rooms, we settled on Donevilasak and coughed up LAK 50,000 (~£5). The room was very basic, with a barely locking door, and questionable cleanliness. We are not picky though, so for us for a night, it would be okay. Next door, the three lads who had jumped straight into a truck at the boat had arrived at their digs. Only to find they paid triple the price, and for an unfortunate lack of bed space; it turns out that what was sold as “3 double beds” was actually 2 structures looking roughly like beds, and a bit of floor. We were happy with ours.

After a dinner and a chat, we ignored the bountiful offer of drugs, and went to bed. The night was pretty uneventful, if a little hot.

The morning was interesting, though.

Despite being a long boat ride, we had finished for the day with surplus supplies of food. Before bed, I left a single banana perched satisfyingly on top of my backpack, the cleanest place. And in the voice of “Dear kitten“, “when I woke up, it was gone”.

Somehow, a piece of tasty fruit had been snatched by an unidentifiable source from our locked room, sometime during the night. We scoured the room for signs, but after looking under the bed decided it wise to end our search.

The Banana Bandit of Pat Beng remains at large.

After a quick breakfast, we joined the mass of similarly weary-eyed people making their way back down the hill to join the boat. Today’s one was smaller, and one of two, so the group we had been travelling with was a little split up. It was a lot more cramped, with no room to venture outside. The scenery was still similarly stunning though, witnessed instead out the sides of the boat.

From Pat Beng to Luang Prabang took around 8 hours, dropping us just outside of the actual centre. This is a now well established pseudo-scam whereby the boat drops off all the foreigners, then continues on with just the locals to Luang Prabang.

As a foreigner, it’s a short tuk-tuk ride for 20k kip (~£2). We didn’t mind too much, at this point just wanting to arrive. After our 3 day journey, we made it into Luang Prabang. Our first impressions was of a quiet and pretty town, more like something out of the French Riviera than Laos. “They have lampposts?!”

We would have some fun exploring, and eating more sandwiches.

One thing we’ve discovered on our trip so far is that what the majority seems to enjoy does not necessarily correlate with what we will enjoy; Afterall, surely only one place can really be the “best thing I’ve ever eyeballed! You have to visit!” Or that little nook which is “Out of this world!” And “Unbelievable, is it really on Planet Earth…who knew!?”. 

If you read enough TripAdvisor reviews, you could be forgiven for thinking you’ve committed some unforgivable sin for passing by a visit to another waterfall.

So, with some curiosity we ventured up to Pai with open-minds. Many people had sung it’s praises, but we were not really sure what was there. We were off to a good start as the drive there was so much fun, it was already worth it even if it proved to be mediocre.  

And it wasn’t. Pai was the first place we were genuinely sorry to leave.

First impressions

Pai is small, just a cluster of roads sprawling off route 1095 that makes its way up from Chiang Mai in the South. The heart of the town beats around the predominantly pedestrianised Rungsiyanon Road, “Walking Street”, and the few other roads that split off from it.

The small area means that from most of the accommodation around it is only a short and pleasant walk into the centre. But despite being small, it is still well equipped; those Thai staples of 7-11s, gas station, and ATMs can all be found.

We really enjoy smaller places. Not only can you relax without the ‘stress’ of having to do anything in particular, everything is also close by so what you do end up doing is easily accessible. Everything just feels easier.

There are a number of hostels in Pai, and we chose to stay at Happy House. A chilled out vibe greets you when you walk in to the open-air entrance with a small bar, friendly owners, comfy sofas and the cool evening breeze. We ended up extending our stay here twice. Other people did the same in similar places nearby, too. 

Why? Because Pai was a treasure trove of discovery; no one stand-out place, but instead a myriad of small, unassuming delights. 

Pai Canyon

On our second morning we woke up an hour before sunrise and drove briskly South out of the town. The air is cooler in Pai due to the altitude, and at this time in the morning moving at speed it was particularly chilly. 

At the canyon was no entrance, no tickets, no people. Just some space off the road to park up and climb the few stairs to the plateau at the top. Up there were two benches, one occupied with the sole other couple who had set their alarms, the other empty. 

Most people have seen their fare share of sunrises, we have too. But there’s still always something magical about watching the first rays of sun mop up the night shadows. Layers of mist gradually gave way to reveal the hidden contours of the landscape, with increasing heat and the sounds of the surroundings waking up beneath us. Enjoyable.

I tell a small lie, we had a little more company. A lone stray dog appeared from the ridges of the canyon and bounded straight towards the outcrop of land where I had positioned a camera to time-lapse the sunrise. I can now tick running head-to-head with a canine towards the edge of a cliff off of my bucket list. Fortunately, I won!

As we were leaving the canyon sometime later the first few visitors were starting to arrive. Most of them stay near the entrance, though if you’re not too timid you can walk right along the canyon ridges for quite some distance and lose yourself in the landscape.

Sai Ngam Hot springs

After leaving the canyon we stopped for a quick breakfast and then headed North straight through Pai and right out the other side. Our destination was the natural wonder of hot springs.

Pai has two hot springs, of which we went to Sai Ngam. It is smaller than the more popular springs South of Pai, but also much cheaper, and less busy.  For entry we paid THB 60 (~£1.40), which includes parking for a bike and entry to the nature area of the springs themselves.  For detailed information on how to find it, you can check here.

The Sai Ngam springs are a fair distance out of town, so to reach them early and before the crowds, you really need your own transport. The road surface all the way is good, but there are some sharper curves and, particularly after turning off for the springs, some steeper inclines and descents. 

The water here is warm more than hot, but still delicious. There is only the one main ‘pool’ which is sufficiently deep, but if you’re early like we were, it was mostly all to ourselves. By the time we left though, nearer mid-day, it was becoming increasingly crowded. 

Get there early if you want to have some peace and quiet, go late if you want to hear how successful a few lads were in the bars last night.

Bamboo bridge

We saw the “Bamboo Bridge” on the map from our hostel and thought it was worth a quick visit after lunch, not expeciting much. 

After splashing around in another waterfall, of course. This time Pam Bok, which has a few boulders you can jump off into the plunge pool, if you are sure footed enough. Be careful though, it’s slippery and not that deep!

I imagined a small bridge over a stream or something similar. What we actually found was much more akin to a walkway than anything else. Like queuing for a ride at Disney Land, it just keeps on going. The backdrop landscape is picturesque on a sunny day, and for a small donation you can feed some fish on the way round. There isn’t really anything to do here, save from taking an extended stroll, but that’s exactly why we liked it. At various places there are a few benches you can sit down and take in the surroundings.

Abi said it was really peaceful lying down on one of the benches, as the only thing you could hear was the birds. For a while anyway, then a small murmur and the sound of some footsteps, gradually picking up to chatter and then conversation. Who is shattering the silence? 

It sounds like my brother! 

It is! Hi Dom! We took different mornings, but all ended up coincidently at the end of the bamboo bridge, before making our way to the nearby Land Split.

Land Split

If the Land Split sounds like a small crack in the land, you would have guessed exactly right. It is a small crack in the land. But, it’s a lot more fun than that. This area used to be a soybean farm until without warning one day an earthquake ripped right through it and destroyed the livelihood of the family that was tending here. A crack 2m wide and 11m deep took out the farmers income overnight. 

“What the crack? What do I do now!” He might have thought. And the entrepreneur in him came up with the answer; turn it into a mini tourist attraction. Make people want to come and visit his crack.

The way they do just that is to greet you with friendly smiles, sit you down and present you with a tastebud tingling spread of treats after (or before) your ‘hike’ around the Split. The cover photo from this post is our spread. Tasty fruits, homemade Roselle juice, peanuts and sweet crisps. All while relaxing on a couple of hammocks, and finally giving a donation of whatever you feel it is worth.

I took the opportunity to take his wooden kart up the hill for a little ride back down too. No brakes, foot steering only. The kind of kart that is definitely not covered by your insurance.

Lod Cave

If you’ve been travelling for a while, you’ve probably come across a few caves. After a while you become a little satiated, and despite the natural awesomeness of mighty stalactites thousands of years old, you know what to expect. You start to look for something a little different in a cave. Lod Cave provides that in the form of a large expanse of water protruding from its core that you can travel across with a bamboo raft, with a bag of fish feed to send out as you go. Doing so wil set you back THB 330 (~£7.70) for two.

We visited in early afternoon, around 2pm, and there were very few others there as we slipped into a gap between a couple of big tour groups.

One review we had read lambasted the guide for not being fluent in English. We wouldn’t expect or want this. Our guide spoke some words, just enough to answer some questions and point out a few formations and their nicknames, like the Elephant Rock. She told me she’s been taking people around the cave for the last 19 years, almost daily; She knew it like the back of her hand.

It’s a pretty cool cave, and a huge one inside too!

View Point

On the way back from Lod Cave, we saw a little dirt road winding its way up a hill. We glanced at each other, “Why not?” And off we went. A few twists and turns but nothing crazy, until Abi started tooting her horn crazily and shouting at me… what is it!?

Then I glance in my right mirror. The whole of the glass is filled with the body of a mangey dog aggressively bounding increasingly fast towards me… crap!  

Then followed an adrenaline filled few minutes as I gunned the bikes engines and wound through and up the hill on a road of unknown length. Eventually I reached the top, with no where else to go. I stopped, and so did my canine friend. And just looked at me, and stayed until Abi and my brother had come up along side me. Abi said she had been driving along behind me, and it had just leapt out of the trees in front of her and started off towards me.

Walking Street (Rungsiyanon Road)

To enjoy Pai you don’t even need to step out of the centre of the town. Every evening, the walking street is alive with stalls, shops, bars, and plenty of street-food vendors. Some really good ones, too. 

Interspersed with trinkets a plenty, you can grab some kebabs, rice, pancakes, burgers, pizza… 

Actually if you want a Western food fix, Pai has you covered. It doesn’t feel overrun with it, but a few places like Burger Queen will give you a taste of home. Expect to pay a little more for the luxury, though.

Right at the end of the street, the road turns a corner and transforms into a street of bars and restaurants. A more lively night out can be found here in the likes of Boom Bar, Yellow Sun and others.

We spent a couple of nights in a Jazz bar, and really enjoyed it.

Life of Pai

We found Pai to have just the right mix of everything to cater for many tastes. Even if you want to do nothing but lounge around by a pool, you can do that too, at Fluid. For THB 60 (~£1.40) you gain entry, a mat to sit on, and if you’re lucky, a spot on the grass. The pool is a decent size, there is a bar, and hopefully the sun is shining.

Yep, Pai is a cool. I only hope it stays that way. 

If you know somewhere else great in Pai, pass it on. I’m sure we’ll be venturing back there at some point! 

If you backpack through Thailand for any considerable amount of time talking to other travellers, you quickly learn of two things:

1. Pai is a small town North of Chiang Mai that you had likely never heard of before.

2. Pai is great, and you have to go to Pai. “I loved Pai!” They say. “I met people who went for merely days and ended up staying for months” say their friends. “I will name my kid Pai!” Yet more chime in.

Okay, so we decided we would go to Pai.

The next challenge for the backpacker who wishes to follow this rite of passage, is in deciding exactly how to get there. When you start Googling around you find that this is something many people have pondered before you, and essentially boils down to:

1. Take the bus (read minivan). You’ve been taking them everywhere else so far anyway and have never had any problems, but you learn that this particular journey is very windy, the drivers reckless and the guy next to you that forgot his travel sickness pills might throw up on your last pair of passably ‘clean’ trousers. You ponder option #2 instead.

2. Fly. It’s more expensive, but fast, as Pai even has it’s own little airport. It could be fun, but seems a little extravagant. You’re an environmentally conscious backpacker, after all. Maybe option #3.

3. Rent a motorbike and drive yourself. People who have done it are telling you the drive is amazing. You don’t doubt it, but are slightly perturbed by the recent addition of bandages to their daily attire. You search around and find horror stories of pot-holes, accidents and aggressive drivers. There’s also the issue of how to get your bags there with you, as you don’t particularly like the idea of taking them along for the ride.

We spent a few days in Chiang Mai so had some time to think about it, and along the way heard of one company, AYA Service, that has offices both there and in Pai, which means they can offer a unique selling point: one way bike rental, with your bags able to go separately on a minivan. Great, that swung it so we decided to take a chance and drive.

Getting our bikes… or not

It was tricky to find any concrete information about how exactly to arrange everything with AYA Service, and their office in Chiang Mai is a little way out of town so you can’t just walk in and ask them easily. The hostel we were staying in just told us we should come down early in the morning, at 7AM, and he would call them for us to reserve some bikes. OK, great!

I went down at 7.20AM the next morning… Bummer, no bikes left! I asked if you could reserve in advance, but he said you can’t because they didn’t know how many bikes they would have. It seemed pretty odd and we were a bit hesitant to try again with such vague information, but by this point we were really looking forward to the drive so decided we would and waited one more day in Chiang Mai; worst case AYA also operate minivans so we could take one as Plan B.

Next morning we decided to just head straight to their office, and early. After a 15 minute ride in a tuk-tuk we were waiting outside their office at 6.40AM (they open at 7AM). This turned out to be a wise move! When the office opened we walked in and asked for 3 bikes after two guys already ahead of us. The woman had a small basket of keys, and after taking ours out there were only three left!

By this point we had also heard that both the service, and the quality of bikes, is very hit and miss. Basically, you take what you get.  Don’t go in expecting to be able to have any real choice or special requests. We were able to get a half decent Honda Click 125cc bike, and then slim pickings of two questionable looking offerings. I mean, they had two wheels, so were definitely of the bike family.

When you hire a bike, check before you ride that you have working brakes, lights, horn, indicators etc. Consider it a luxury if you have a working fuel gauge. This applies all round SE Asia.

Don’t be the guy who found out his brakes didn’t work properly halfway to the hairpin, or the girl riding tandem with her boyfriend that burned the outside of her leg because of a missing exhaust guard (both stories we have heard).

There were actually a few more bikes around it seemed, and a few that were in much better shape. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the key for them. You quickly learn that it is what it is and are thankful there is anything left with a motor attached to it. Two girls who came just after us were looking like they would only have one small scooter between them, until at the last minute another bike turned up. And then, you realise why they never know how many bikes they have and you can’t reserve in advance.

AYA charges a ‘fee’ for returning a bike a day late, which is just the daily rate anyway. If you want to keep the bike longer, you don’t need to tell them, you just keep it. As a result, they only have a trickle of bikes as and when people drive them back from Pai, and that direction is not nearly as popular.

For the 125cc bike we paid THB 200 for a days rental, THB 40 for damage waiver insurance (the only place I’ve seen that offers this so far), THB 300 for the one-way carriage of our bag, plus TBH 100 deposit for a helmet.

All told, the actual cost to us was TBH 540 (~£12.50), and then every subsequent day we kept the bike would be TBH 200 (~£4.60). The other bikes were 115cc and TBH 40 less per day.

So, it’s not breaking the bank. We just hoped our bikes wouldn’t break either!

Setting Off

Around 7.30AM we had left our bags in the office (somewhat reassuringly they gave us a tag to put round it), picked a ‘helmet’ and set off… to the gas station.

Never expect anything you rent to already have fuel. In fact, be surprised if you have anything other than flashing empty. I’m pretty sure they must syphon out any remaining when a bike is dropped off, for a bit of extra profit.

Fortunately fuel is pretty cheap, and after we had full tanks (THB 100), we were on the road.

The first part of the drive is mostly a flat highway, first three then two lanes of traffic each way. Most of the locals on bikes keep to the very left of the road, which resembles a hard shoulder, and let the trucks pass by them. We did the same.

Route 1095, once you are on it, is direct to Pai. A beautiful mountain road riddled with 762 turns through 148km of picturesque forests, spectacular views, and hopefully sunshine.

Bua Thong Waterfall

Before reaching the start of the iconic road, we took a small detour to spend some time at Bua Thong Waterfall. I didn’t know too much about it, but it is now one of my favourite places in Thailand.

When we arrived and parked up there wasn’t a single other person in the car park, and we weren’t sure what to expect. But walking a little towards the sound of the water, we were greeted with the top of the beautiful waterfall gazing out over a valley of trees. There are stairs down to the bottom past a few different levels (we did have to step over a snake at one point), but the real fun is had in climbing back up again, up the waterfall itself. There is a guide rope to help you, but the rock is satisfyingly easy to climb; there are just a few places, mainly where it plateaus, that are a little slippery. The rest has good grip, hence the nickname ‘Sticky Waterfall’.

We had a great time climbing up, down, and back up again. Stopping half way and leaning against the rock, inside the flow of the water, all the sounds of the surroundings muffle into your ears. And at the top, we just sat in the cool water and looked out over the view.

We had arrived at around 10AM and had the whole place to ourselves. This is one of the nicest advantages of making your own way, you can explore places before all the throngs of the tour buses and trigger happpy camera brigade; you’ll come away with your own experiences, instead of a shared manufactured one. And the best part, it was free.

762 Turns of fun

We left the waterfall as the tuk-tuks were pulling into the car park and made our way to join up with the start of route 1095. At this point I was still a little nervous; my prior biking experience was only a few sporadic rentals here and there, and the reports of the pot-holes and sketchy road conditions were numerous.

As we got progressively further into the road I waited for the surface to deteriorate, the traffic to pick up, and the fearing for my life around each turn to start. This never happened. It turns out that the road was completely redone sometime last year, making it wider and smoothly tarmacked the whole way round.

What awaited us around every turn was in fact a dream drive, winding through and up the landscape. At many points we were the only people on the road, and could just stop and admire the view.

Towards the end of the drive the hairpins start coming thick and fast. For 45 minutes or so we were driving together meandering through the day, occasionally pulling the throttle to overtake each other and have a turn up front.

Because of our long stop-over at the waterfall and our leisurely breaks, we ended up arriving in Pai just before sunset after a final push chasing the sunlight down through the trees.

Driving at speed in the dark, otherwise known as the projectile army of bugs smashing into your face. Seriously, without a visor a bug hitting you head on at 80km/h doesn’t stand a chance, and leaves a momentary throb to prove it.

After checking into our hostel we drove to the AYA Service office in Pai. Some bright spark decided it was a good idea to put this the majority of the way down a mostly pedestrianised market street, so we had some fun weaving through the crowds perusing their buckles and sipping their tea out of sugar canes, to find our bags just sitting patiently waiting for us. Result!

Our drive to Pai was great fun and a highlight of our trip so far, and everyone we spoke to who had also done it said the same. However, although the road has been redone, people still have accidents. During our ride we saw two, one a 4×4 that had veered off the edge into a ditch, and a couple who were riding together toppled their bike while taking an upward bend too slowly. While in Pai we saw many people with bandages and battle scars on some part of their body; one morning in our hostel, within 20 minutes of each other two guys were getting first aid, one who had taken off the top layer of skin down one side of his body leaving some serious bloodened skin.

It seems we were either lucky, or just careful.

Want to bike to the same route? Some tips:

1.  If you want to go with AYA, get there early, before they open in the morning. Otherwise there are numerous other places you can hire a bike if you plan on driving back to Chiang Mai to drop it off also
2. Get the International Driving Permit. It cost us £5.50 from the Post Office and took us 5 minutes. We were stopped twice by the police within 10 minutes in Chiang Mai (2 minutes into Abi’s first drive!), and without it would have had an easily avoidable fine
3. Drive within your limits. It’s a really enjoyable drive, but less so if you fall off. The surface is decent and there are signs for all of the tightest bends
4. Check your bike before taking it, and take photos of any pre-existing damage
5. Have a full tank of fuel before you set off. It’s a 4-5 hour drive and some areas are a bit gas-dry

We kept the bikes the whole time we were in Pai, it’s a great place to drive around.

Oh, and I love Pai!

Google ‘Sukhothai’ and you could be forgiven for thinking it is nothing more than “the finest Thai restaurant and takeaway in Leeds“. As it turns out, there is some great food to be had, but this is a city with a lot more to offer.

We spent a few days here after Ayutthaya to continue to break up our journey from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, and were very happy that we did. The city was founded in 1238 and has a wealth of history, including the accolade of having been a former Capital of the Thai empire for ~140 years.

Getting to Sukhothai is fairly easy from many places around Thailand. We took a bus from Ayutthaya for TBH 310 per person (~£7), and there are also buses departing Bangkok regularly from the Mo Chit Nothern Bus Terminal (which is also where we took our bus to Ayutthaya).

Arriving in Sukhothai

My first impression when we arrived, truthfully, was that it was a bit pants. Our hostel was just off from the main road that runs into the centre, and in an effort to get acquainted with my new temporary dwelling, I decided to get my bearings and  walk up the road with my brother Dom, who was travelling with us for a couple of weeks. After 25 minutes walking all we had seen was a busy highway and a few of those amiable 7/11’s. We cut our losses, bought a bottle of Soy milk, and headed back. 

The next day we started to see what the city has to offer… or more accurately, the country. We all enjoy cycling, and I find taking a bike around a new area whether solo or with a guide a great way to quickly become acquainted. This time we spent the day cycling around with Jib, a local who grew up in the area and wanted to show us everything that was great about his home.

We met Jib a little out of town (turns out there is something down that road if you keep going!) and he provided some very well kept mountain bikes and helmets, all sized correctly from our heights. 

The place was a hive of activity when we visited, with really intricate items in various states of completeness. Sometimes people worked, sometimes not. They all work for themselves, on their own time, on self-commissioned projects. Actually, it sounded like a pretty good deal. I asked Jib if a foreigner could do it too…

One thing that you really notice when travelling through Thailand is the numerous spirit houses; almost every house has one. They house the spirit (phi) of the land, and are a place to provide daily offerings in order to keep them happy. Each morning food is placed and left for the spirit, along with drinks and other things they may like (in this one, a packet of cigarettes and a toy gun). The food is then taken away and shared with the humans after the spirit has satisfied themselves (so as not to be wasteful). 

It was fascinating to learn more about these buddhist, and animist beliefs. One thing I found particularly interesting is what happens when someone moves; a new spirit house is built and the original spirit welcomed in. An old, vacant, spirit house cannot just be destroyed either. It will either remain, or be carefully moved some place else. And, after some time, a spirit house is deemed to be too old and a new one is built, followed by a ceremony to welcome the spirit into its new home. A buddha statue might be placed inside the old, to show that no spirit now remains.

Although beautiful to look at, a lot of the fields around are housing snakes in their depths. With only an hour or so to get the anti-venom for a King Cobra bite, you probably don’t want to be roaming through without good reason…

Our afternoon took us through more colourful landscapes and culture. We stopped to try some rice wine in a local distillery, and liked it so much we took a bottle back with us. Only, the purity of it meant we had to remember to pop the lid every 20 mins to let out the gas… or it would do it for us itself.

Finally, at the end of the day we stopped off at a Monastery and saw the body of a 12-year passed-away monk, who’s remains have not decomposed, despite no preservatives of any kind. Originally on display for a year, he is now a permanent fixture for people to travel from afar to pay their respects. And outside, a large gong that we learnt to play a loud and delicate note, just with gentle motions from the hands.

Another day, another bike

The historic town of Sukhothai is a UNESCO world heritage site, with 193 ruins on 70km square of land. We hired mopeds and drove to the old town, then hired a bicycle from the entrance for THB30 to tour around. 

There are a number of different zones, and each is fairly spread out, so a bicycle is definitely something you want.

We spent the day cycling around and visiting numerous temples and buddhas, even bumping into Jib on one of his other tours! The central zone has a lot of water around as well, making the whole area a peaceful place to spend some time. The feature photo of this post is also from the park.

Ramkhamhaeng National Park

If you have a moped or other means to travel a bit further, then the National Park is also well worth a visit. There’s a little shop at the entrance to buy some useful water supplies, and then a fairly easy hike up to some fantastic views. We only met a few other people here, and by the time we left were the only people around. 

After Sukhothai we continued our journey on to Chiang Mai, right up in the North of the country. Many people arrive here by sleeper train from Bangkok (which I had originally wanted to do, but it turns out it is booked up days or more in advance). But no problem, this allowed us the opportunity to visit some places that are a little less on the tourist trail. You will find less backpackers here, but a lot of charm.

I’m lying on what can only be described as a double bed on the rooftop of a hostel in Sukhothai, Thailand, and enjoying the increasingly familiar taste of a cold Chang beer. I can hear the sound of the crickets and occasional hum of tuk tuks and motorbikes mixed only with the conversation from a couple of foreign backpackers. It’s nearing 10pm and a pleasing 25°C, the strangeness of not packing my jeans well worn off.

A little over a week ago I was living with Abi in South West London. After 9 months in our flat and many more years previously living in the capital, we decided to pack up into a backpack and spend some time travelling around a bit of the world. So, on January 30th we handed back our keys and checked out, heading straight to the bus stop. After a short ride then train, tube and plane and some sleep deprived hours we arrived in the backpacking capital of the world…

Cairo

We arrived on a flight from Heathrow quite late and in our wisdom had decided to avoid the sea of taxi drivers swarming to offer us a tourist-priced ride by taking an Uber to our accommodation.

Lesson #1: When taking an uber, a reliable data connection is ideal. Hailing one while jacking a Wi-Fi signal and then running to the pickup point is not. You might be waiting for no reason if you didn’t run fast enough.

Fortunately we were approached by a friendly local who helped us out, arranging our ride and calling our driver to make sure we arrived okay. Thanks, Mustafa!

Our first moments in Cairo were a little surreal all told. We didn’t arrive at the door of the accommodation until after midnight and after mistakenly wandering into a few other similar looking buildings (houses). Minutes later we had dumped our bags in a room and been led up to the roof in borrowed flip flops that were many sizes too small to admire the view.

It was impressive; we chose to stay right next to the Pyramids. But it was cold! We went to bed wearing half the contents of our backpack and plugging in the heater, but not for long as it sparked to life a bit too literally…!

…After a short but interesting period arriving at the wrong terminal with a little over an hour till our flight departed 😮

Bangkok

Arriving in Thailand really felt like Day 1 instead of Day 0. We spent some time wandering around the city and enjoying the heat and our first taste of the street food. It was true, it is everywhere, cheap and very delicious. Aroy mak mak!

We spent a couple of evenings around the area having a few cheap beers and street food. We preferred the parallel street though, Soi Ram Butri, for its more chilled out relaxed vibe and some cool live music.

We caught a movie, Split, at one of the local cinemas. Pretty good film, and strange to completely forget you’re in Thailand for a while when the lights come on at the end!  We were late arriving so didn’t witness the national anthem played though, maybe next time.

At Chatuchak there weren’t so many tourists, mainly locals so a nice window into the everyday lives of the Thai people here.

Ayutthaya and the Festival of World Heritage

We’ll be back to Bangkok a couple more times on our trip so were happy to leave after a few days and travel up North. We wanted to catch the sleeper train up to Chiang Mai, but it’s a popular route and was completely booked out a couple of weeks ahead. We took the bus instead, stopping off a couple of times on the way.

The first few temples we saw (and bigger ones) have a reasonable amount of tourists walking around. But travel a bit further and you can find yourself in complete isolation surrounded by colourful walls and statues of Buddha. One of the most enjoyable was Wat Phutthaisawan. And close by, we stopped at Chai Watthanaram Temple to watch the sunset (the feature photo above).

Writing of this post was interrupted by an impromptu meditation session led by a local Thai. He has frequented the hostel every evening for the last decade, meeting backpackers and spreading a little Thai culture. Kob Khun Krap!

Right, time for another beer.