David's Tour of Laos and Thailand

Lao, Tuesday, 18th of Jan 2000.

It is just gone five-thirty in the afternoon and plan A succeeded. I am in Laos. Decided that it did not matter if I passed immigration or did not, I went happily to the bridge.

In one of those "You're a foreigner, so I'll talk to you" cases, I briefly struck up a conversation with a man on the street. People here can be overly friendly for my British nature. A man in his scooter had just stopped in front of his modest wooden house. Since I was in a happy frame of mind, I beamed with a smile and said hello. I just expected a hello in return but the man who spoke English continued. We talked for a while and I found out he was from Laos, as was his wife. I said hello to his two small children who were playing in the dirt.

He had worked for the US Army and lived in Kentucky, he was on welfare, I guess US, because of a back injury. He was nice and invited me to stay in his house, he had a spare room. I said maybe on my return from Laos and I asked if I could buy a visa at the Laos boarder. Yes, he said. This meant I felt happier when I bid my farewell.

On the way to the bridge, I stopped at a little wat by the river. I was about a kilometer away from my destination, not far. The wat was quiet. I saw some of the monks taking class, guess they were novices, in the cool and shad of one of the buildings. Apart from that and a large tree that seemed made of a myriad of branches trunking out of the soil and then spreading loftily over my head, I can't remember much.

Continuing on, I passed the railhead and I had a number of tuk-tuk drivers offer me their services. I smiled and thanked them, but showed no interest.

Closer to the bridge, I couldn't see any obvious way to the boarder crossing. I asked a vendor and followed the track she pointed at. It seemed a bit rough so when a tuk-tuk driver offered a ten baht ride, I thought I worth the fare. He, like any of the others who found out I was going to Laos, asked if I had a visa. I said no, but thought I could get one at the Laos boarder. He took me to a travel agency where I could get one. There seemed a few places situated together. If I had not have been for the man in the street, I might have forked out the cash. But heck, I stuck to my guns, I thought, if I could not get a visa, I would come back through Thai immigrations and get on at the agency. I would only lose the time and ten baht shuttle bus charge.

I am glad I stuck to my guns. At the Laos border, I paid my thirty US, and spent ten minutes to fill out the form and wait for the paper work. Before customs, I changed three thousand baht, about sixty English pounds, into Laos kip. They gave me about six hundred thousand kip. They gave me about six hundred thousand kip in two thousand kip notes. It looked like a bundle of cash.

Again tuk-tuk and taxi drivers tried to get me to take their vehicles, but I said I was on the way for the bus. One taxi hawker tried a different approach. He pointed to three other westerners, walking to the bus stop and said for thirty baht each we could have a taxi together. This sounded good. As they walked up another taxi driver approached them but they waved him off, so I did not think they would be interested. I was wrong and spent a fifteen-minute ride in the back of the taxi sat over the drive shaft, which with every contour of the road became more and more familiar with my butt.

My fellow passengers were Norwegian students, who had visited Southeast Asia a few times. This time was Laos for two weeks and then central Vietnam for three or more.

We stopped at the hotel they had picked from their up-to-date lonely planet and I set off to look for any place. The first two were twenty-five dollars a night places. The second did direct me to a cheaper place. Finding a place didn't look difficult though, as the place is full of hotels, plus an abundance of restaurants from around the world. It must be a boomtown for those wanting to open up their own place.

The place I was directed to seemed OK and I said I would like to check out a fifteen dollar a night room (Air can and en-suite bathroom with a hot shower.) The girl taking me to the room asked where I was from and I said Taiwan. She did a double take, so I told her that was where I worked. She tried some Mandarin on me. Back at reception she told her boss in the back office, and while my room was being made up I sat talking to him and his friend. We talked in Mandarin. He was Laotian but fluent in Mandarin and his friend was visiting from Taiwan, he lived in Taoyuan. It was strange to be in that situation.

Time to get some lunch, so I will have to leave talk about my first inspection of Vientiane till tomorrow. Just Let's say for the moment, it is very dusty and full of open sewers.

Wednesday 19th Jan 2000

It is six-thirty in the evening, and I have had a full day of doing little. Possibly this will be the trend for the next two weeks.

First let me fill in yesterdays events. After checking in and showering, I went out to check the capitals main wat Pha That Luang. On the way I passed That Dam (The Black Stupa) and Pratuxai Monument (The Laotian Arc'de Triumphe.)

The Black Stupa was just that. Pratuxai monument was made of American concrete originally given to Laos to build a runway. It was smooth and finished on the outside, but I'm told its rough and jutting with steel reinforcing rods on the inside.

The Pha That Luang was grand and I snapped a few photos. A quite place with a lot of space filled with Buddhist buildings.

Of course my tour of the places was done on foot. I choked and blinked most of the way, as Vientiane seems to be one large construction site of rubble and sand. Coming back to the hotel, I took another shower. After my shower, I penned some of my journal than went out in search of food and entertainment. I found plenty of the former. Everywhere seems to have restaurants and stalls but the place lacks pubs and music.

I found some places along the river, which I will try tonight. A couple of dishes and a couple of beers, but no more since the area is dark.

After eating and wandering around, I got some water and went back to the hotel. I chanced upon a place full of foreigners drinking, so I dumped my water at the hotel and went back.

The place was OK and I sat at the bar and watched the patrons. By chance, I got into a conversation with the customer next to me. He was a Swiss man who ran a small postcard business through Laos. Every year he made a business trip, and pleasure trip, to Laos. Regrettably I did not ask about his postcard business, but someone must do these things. He had been coming to Laos for ten years and shared some of his insights which was interesting.

He found some amusement in a business card I had. A teacher colleague, who had been to Laos six years ago, had found a nice French restaurant, I had photocopied a business card he saved from the trip. When I arrived from Thailand, I had tried to find the place, but could not. The Swiss gent laughingly told me the bar we were in was made out of the French restaurant.

In the morning, I tried to find a western breakfast. I tried a hotel but it turned into the worst breakfast I have had. The coffee was luke warm, the fruit juice too sweet, the jam artificial and the fruit tasteless. I will try for better tomorrow, and I feel I can do nothing but succeed after this breakfast.

My next stop was to rent a scooter. I found a place and also found the person in front of me was the Swedish gent I had met at the train station in Thailand. I said I felt fated to bump into him and his wife.

With a scooter it was my intention to go to a funky place I had been told about outside of town. A sculpture garden full of Buddhas. With only the recommendation I decided to go for it. Unfortunately except for a "go straight along the road" direction and a distance of about twenty-five kilometers, I had little knowledge of where the place was.

Going straight along the road I came to a fork in the road. Good start, so I stopped for a coconut and asked the vendor for directions. The vendor did not seem sure put pointed along one of the forks. I had nothing to lose.

I seemed to drive for a long time. The road was still of the construction style mentioned before. Passing trucks would create huge plumes of dry dust and force me to slow down.

I stopped two more times to ask for directions. Each time I was told to go straight on. It seemed about noon and the schools opened their gates to let the children out. They were all neatly dressed. All had white shirts, boys black trousers and girls clack skirts, which were ankle length with a simple design around the bottom. Whether the uniform was the same all over Laos or just in Vientiane I can only guess.

Eventually I found the place, nestling between the road and the Mekong. And it was as funky as my colleague said. Everything was sculptured out of concrete. The three centerpieces where a reclining Buddha, a Maya style pyramid and a three storey onion.

The onion thing had an entrance in the form of a head and each floor was divided into two chambers: an outside chamber and a center chamber. The center chambers were filled with small sculptures. You could use a door to go into the inner chamber or use windows between the chambers to look in. Stairs in the top floor led to the roof of the onion, which was a good vantage point to see the whole park. I walked around the park for about an hour, snapped some pictures and talked to a schoolboy who seemed interested in practicing his English.

Once finished in the park, I rode back to town. Retracing my route along the dusty road and re-coughing all the way.

Back in town, I found a place to eat and ordered a large meal. It was mid afternoon and I was hungry. I had two beers and contemplated the future course of my vacation. My major decision was to stay longer in Vientiane even though there was little left to do. I just want to relax more and not start rushing around. Also I decided not to go straight to Luang Phabang, which is Laos' second important tourist destination after Vientiane. I will see if I can find somewhere out in the countryside to wind down for a few days.

I took my meal and drink in a relaxed way and at about four o'clock headed for a massage place I had chanced upon the evening before. I had a two-hour traditional massage, which used a lot of oil unlike the Thai massages that are dry. Tomorrow, I will go back for a foot massage.

Thursday, 20th of Jan 2000.

It has gone mid-day and I am already on my second beer. I thought I told myself I would take a rest from the drink, but then at lunch, I automatically said, 'Beer Lao.'

My plans are set. I will wander around today looking at the world around me and tomorrow I will set off for the hills. I have seen an advert for bungalows in the hills and plan to give them a try. If the place is full, I will take advice and go somewhere else. The worst that can happen is I return to Vientiane.

In the morning, I tried another place for breakfast. It was so-so: instant coffee, toasted French bread, instant juice and bananas, which were good, sweet and not too soft. The instant coffee was OK, hot at least. I am still in search of a good buffet breakfast, I found one place on my search, but it was seven US, even if it is all you can eat, I am only prepared to pay three to four at the moment.

After the breakfast, I headed for the main bus station and the indoor market. At the station, I found the place to buy tickets and the timetables, now, I know how much and when.

At the market, I wandered from stall to stall. I saw a nice dress watch for eight US, which I might return for, and plenty of clothes. Here seems a little bit cheaper than Bangkok. I did buy a 'Beer Laos' T-shirt, and might in the future buy some more for the fiance, sister and brother-in-law.

After the market, I returned some things to the hotel and went for a walk along the Mekong. At the food stall, I sat down for noodles and chatted with the proprietor. He was a Vietnamese man with a Laos wife.

(A blind man lead by a small girl just stopped by and played a quick tune on some pipes. He played for about thirty seconds. I gave the girl two thousand kip, my beer costs seven. The first beggar I have given money to, the rest are panhandlers, I ignore them. I have a lot of wealth in comparison to them but feel no guilt for being mean. Is it a double standard?)

I still have not caught on to how to eat Laos food. At the Vietnamese man's place, I ordered soup noodles. He gave me a plate of greens (Lettuce leaves, green beans and some other leaf greens) and a bowl of noodles in soup with beef, liver and Spam. I asked about the greens, and gathered I was to add them to the soup. But watching other people, I saw they just eat the greens raw, so I still do not have a clue. In any case the whole lot with a beer was just over one pound sterling.

After that place, I walked on and found another that looked good for sitting out and watching the world go by. I can also pen my journal and drink a beer.

Friday, 21st of Jan 2000.

It's coming up to 8 in the morning, today I am sat having breakfast in the restaurant of a luxury hotel. It is the seven-dollar buffet breakfast. Around me are business people and rich tourists. I stand out a bit in my cheap clothes. I have come here in search of a good breakfast, satisfactory so far; I have had yogurt and papaya. And I have also come for a place to sit and write my journal. I hope they won't be upset that I stay here until they close at ten.

Yesterday's no beer day did not last, as you know. I had three sat writing and another later at dinnertime.

Wandering the streets, I found a beautiful old temple and snapped a few photographs. I also had a brainwave; I could create an Internet web site of MP3 files. The files wouldn't be music, but guided tours of famous sites. Different people would host the tour of each site. Using the mobile phone technology, tourists would be able to download guided tours of places around the world. You could be in the Sistine Chapel and have Kenneth Branigan or Ruby Wax show you around with their own style of presentation.

I will send an Email to Ted Turner when I get back. He will see it as a sure fire hit and I will be CEO of Ted Turner Telephone Tours by summer.

OK back to the real world. After the temple, I wandered back to my hotel to leave my gear. From there I went to the Massage parlor and (Please close your eyes for the next part if you don't want to be envious) had a one-hour foot massage, ah bliss. It cost less than two pounds sterling and was heaven; I walked on air afterwards. It must have been good because I have a big bruise over one of my toes. I then rushed off to eat dinner, then came back at night to have a two-hour body massage. Did not I sleep well that night! I could just stay here and for the price of the breakfast I am having at the moment I could have two-hours of massage every day. Forget beer, forget the Laos food, forget sightseeing, just massage my feet an hour each one.

This morning, I could not help but worry about the next few days. Will I have enough money? My credit card is useless here and I have a traveler's check for a hundred US, but I do not think I will find anybody to take it, hard cash only. This leaves me with two hundred US and four thousand baht (about one hundred US) will it be enough? Everyone goes to Luang Phabang, which is fifty-five US one way. I can take the bus for about four US but it looks crowded and takes about ten hours. I have suffered rides like that before, so no thank you. This leaves me with the hills. My Lonely Planet is very lonely about the hills, in fact it has very little on anywhere (It's the 1991 edition,) so it will certainly be an adventure.

I do not know if I can handle 'adventure.' I have never been an 'adventure' kind of person. I have only traveled places because I was too embarrassed to return home. When I took a ferry to Europe for my Interrail vacation, I thought, "Why am I doing this?" When I flew RAF to the US, I thought, "Why am I doing this?" When I went back to the States two years later I thought, "Why am I doing this again?" When I went to China I could only think, "Am I mad?"

To think I am competing with others on some destination tick list can only mean I am competing with myself. I would like to throw in the towel, but I am losing to the idiot in front.

Now that I am in Laos, I feel obliged to go home with some accomplishments. Not going to Luang Phabang will not look good. "What you didn't go to Luang Phabang? But it is the most beautiful place in the world, Children throw flowers at your feet to scent your path, and men and women play music to herald your journey. Only an idiot would not go there." So, I am going to see if I can find somewhere in the hills to make me sound hip and alternative, "only tourists to Luang Phabang," I would say. "I went and saw grass roots Laos." I could of course hide in Vientiane having constant foot massages read about Luang Phabang in my Lonely Planet Guide, buy some postcards and lie through my teeth. "Yeah, I went to Luang Phabang, shame my film didn't come out. Food/People/Sights were great. Do you like my feet?"

I have just spent a pleasant twenty minutes talking to the restaurant's floor supervisor. A friendly Laos man, who started in the hotel as a busboy and worked his way up, improving his English as he went. Talking to him was an interesting start to the day. Talking to others is something I have to work on. I have been lucky so far and met quite a few people and each time found the chats rewarding experiences. I should take pictures of these people in the places they work.

Saturday, 22nd Jan, 2000.

I am at Lao Pako, which is an Eco-tourist resort set high up on the banks of one of the Mekong tributaries. I have just finished my simple breakfast of coffee, pancake and pieces of French bread with soft cheese. I am sat on the main terrace that affords a grand view of a sharp bend in the river. Occasionally local fishermen go by setting drift nets and catching one or two fish. The surrounding area is forestry and farming. There is no TV or telephones here. My room has a simple long-life bulb, but I never hear the sound of a generator, so I guess they use batteries charged by solar power. At night fall the terrace and paths are lit with oil lamps.

After yesterdays breakfast, I returned to my hotel for a quick shower and to check out. From there I meandered to the bus station and found I had plenty of time. I walked around and took a couple of pictures. The place was crowded with vendors, passengers and buses. No one pressed me for my destination and a sign clearly directed me to the correct stand.

There was a vast variety of people there; school children, families, housewives, farmers, Buddhist monks and novices. The latter in their orange robes are everywhere. And of course there were other tourists, some with small pieces of luggage, some hefting great backpacks.

When the right bus arrived, it was every one for themselves. Being by myself, I grabbed a single seat right at the front, wedging my pack between me and a barrier in front. In front next to the driver was a large hump, possible covering the engine. This hump was covered in mats and used by passengers as a seating area.

At first a group of four monks, or novices, sat on it. Two looked about sixteen and the other two about ten. The eldest offered me a cigarette as we waited to get under way. I declined and wondered how the Buddhist teachings approached smoking.

The novices were pushed into a double seat later and some housewives took their place. The bus was crowded at this point with people standing everywhere. I felt lucky and hoped I would get a seat on my return to Vientiane.

The bus trundled off, but for the next two kilometers would stop outside of stores. The housewives and others would rush off the bus to get more shopping. Everyone seemed fine with the situation and many of the stores appeared dedicated to the style of commerce. I wondered if the driver and conductor got a kick back by favoring certain stores.

As the bus drove on the layers of the city peeled away. Banks and hotels disappeared. Four storey buildings changed to two. Car and motorcycle stores changed to agricultural equipment. And dusty waste land for dry farm land. Trees appeared in greater abundance, cows at pasture in the dried paddy fields, and farmhouses on stilts. Third world Laos was all around.

After an hour of the stop-start to drop off passengers, collect passengers, collect groceries, stuff the bus turned onto a network of red dust roads. The roads were well built up and cambered nicely, but they lacked asphalt. Sat at the front of the bus it seemed no problem. Later I was to learn otherwise.

There were five other foreigners on the bus with me. We were all headed for the same destination. I had thought about phoning ahead the night before to reserve a room, but in the end decide to leave things to fate. The worst that could happen was a return to Vientiane.

Our stop was a place called Somsamai. There we got off, grouped together, and led by a local set off for our ferry to the resort. A covered long boat, with one of those long-shafted propellers, took us down the river. The river was wide and slow moving, the banks high. Some people moved on or by the river tending to their work. Other ferries, uncovered and with two or three passengers, overtook us. We were paying six thousand kip each, but I bet they paid much less (The bus ride was a thousand and five hundred kip.) As foreigners, together without any Laos passengers, we paid more.

At our destination, I let my fellow travelers get ahead of me, fate was deciding everything, so why rush ahead to catch the last bed. Such competitive feelings had make travelling in Europe and America races between places and not sanguine journeys of fun.

I checked in and acquainted myself with my room. Bare wood walls, a single bare long-life low-energy bulb, two hard beds with thin mattresses, some blankets, and mosquito nets. All very simple. The bathroom was shared and off suite. Three nights here will be a simple, monastic life-style. They have beer, of course, which adds more to the monastic feeling. I will survive the day without beer and try to continue to do so far the rest of my stay here.

I changed into something more comfortable and went on my first exploration of the area. I found the road that leads to the back of the resort and followed its winding route through the fields and trees. The road was made of patches of white chalky sand and light gravel. The field to either side were dry and baked bard, the soil lumped together in large pieces. The trees were young and there were signs of a lot of cutting.

After a while, I came upon a small village. Small one/two room shacks stood on stilts, around them were piles of timber and vegetable gardens. Children played and housewives tended to their chores. I moved quietly past and went unnoticed. The road came onto a main road, like I had ridden on in the bus. I guessed which way was to Somasmai and headed off in that direction. The ferry ride had taken about twenty-five minutes, a slow ride, so I wondered if I could walk it.

I walked along the high dusty road past more stilted farmhouses. Adults and children were pleased to see me and said hello in Laos. I got a lot of practice at saying 'hello' in Laos. Children would practice it with me eight or ten times, even when I was far up the road past them. Some would run behind me, but everything seemed friendly and pleasant.

I passed some store type places. At one I tried to buy water, but there was no water to be bought, so I had a Pepsi. The owner and I tried out best to communicate, but it didn't work out. I stayed till I finished the drink. I didn't want to carry the Pepsi bottle with me and thought the owner might collect an empty fee on the bottle. The drink cost me about seventeen pence (30 cents.)

Continuing on the dusty road, I passed more houses and people, I got more 'hello' practice. Some places looked promising for a bite to eat. I also learned the downside of the dusty road. A bus on the same route I had taken from Vientiane sped towards me. It trailed a huge cloud of red dust behind it. Plants and houses beside the road became enveloped. I pulled my hat over my face and gave the cloud a few seconds, when I pulled my hat back, I pulled it quickly over my face again and waited longer.

Tired from the walking, my destination was not in sight even after walking a while, (How long I cannot say, as I did not have a watch.) I decided to turn back. I was happy though and while the walk was purposeless. I still felt happy. I of course had to re-run the gauntlet of 'hellos,' but no one tired of it, so I didn't either.

Hungry, I stopped at one of the food stalls I had seen earlier. The owner had two long tables under an awning. Cigarettes, sweets, dried food and other household goods lined the bottom floor of his house. Since the house was on stilts it seemed like a high counter. Many of the goods were in plastic hags hanging from nails. I imagine the plastic hags helped keep the dust off. Under his house chickens and ducks roamed, a wicker grill fenced the four sides of the stilt house, but it was open at the back so the animals were free to scratch around where they liked

Ordering a meal was a problem, but I saw a plate of greens and pointed. He seemed happy with the order, but signaled for me to wait. He gave some orders to a gaggle of infant girls who practiced 'hello' with me and gawked. Later, a woman arrived with some greens, the roots covered in dirt, fresh I guessed. He had already started getting things out of a refrigerator, which lay on its back like a chest freezer. I wondered if it was broken but when I ordered a Pepsi I found it cold (Of course he might have filled the fridge with ice and it was really broken.)

Others came, it was late afternoon and dinnertime. Two had the same, noodles in soup with a plate of greens. As I had ordered and one just sat out drinking a clear liqueur and smoking funnel shaped self rolled cigarettes. Finishing my meal with the Pepsi, I paid my bill, seven thousand Kip, about sixty-five pence (90 cents.)

Walking back people seemed to be returning from work. Some were already home and bathing outside. Men wore shorts and women cloth wraps as the doused themselves.

Eventually full of the sights and sounds of the area, tired but not hungry, I got back to the resort. With water in hand I sat in a chair and gazed at the panorama. In passing conversation, I learned that it was going to be a full moon, which is special in most Asian cultures. The resort was not going to do anything special apart from light a campfire.

I stayed up and watched the sun set, which was hidden by the trees and sat by the fire for warmth. Once the evening shade reached the resort the temperature dropped sharply. I still wore shorts and a T-shirt, but there was a noticeable chill.

By the fire, I talked amiable with a Laos man who worked on the resort. He was about fifty and had five children (There had been six until a snakebite killed one.) I enjoyed talking to him. So many of the Laos people want to learn English, so talking to them makes them very happy. He was the third person I have met at the resort. The first was an English lad, who lived in Copenhagen and traveled with his Danish girlfriend. He shared the same ferry as I, and I have met a foreigner working here who seemed to be a long-life traveler moving from country to country finding work in each to support himself. He isn't English, but certainly European. He speaks German, but could be Dutch or Swiss.

I have been writing for a good three hours, so I feel its time to go on my second walk.

Sunday, 23rd of Jan, 2000.

Well I have a lot to write up, yesterday's non-adventure and today's. It has gone three in the afternoon and I am sat in the shade, my shins and forearms are red, but I hope the sunburn is mild.

Yesterday's walk was nice, filled with local flora. The resort supplied a booklet for a self-guided tour. The guide pointed out different plants and the ecological effects of man's misuse and protection of the forest. It was unfortunately only about an hour long.

With still a lot of my earlier afternoon left, I tried to sit out and read. After an hour reading an old Time magazine, I inquired about the resort's other nature walk which is across the river (100m by canoe.) The 'European' man at the bar dissuaded me from going alone, he thought the current might give me trouble. I decided to take his advice even though I thought he was being over cautious.

My alternative was to walk along the river toward a local village. It would get me moving and I liked that. The path to the village used part of the trail I had used in the morning leaving the trail at a bridge. The resort had put up a sign saying not to use the bridge, as it was broke. My earlier trip had taught me it was passable. I had come across a group of Laotians who had just crossed, so I had crossed back and forth also. The bridge was a simple affair crossing a gorge, about twenty feet deep at the middle. A support frame rose from the gorge and planks spanned it. There was not a handrail. There was little difficulty in crossing but some of the planks twisted under weight.

On my second visit to the bridge, I met an elderly American women looking at it. We agreed the sign was probable to protect the resort from injury claims, unlike the other signs here there was no warning in Laos. She still did not care to cross, but she did not have much reason. I told her the other side was crop fields of maize and banana, and without tree cover it was hot. As we parted, she said she would listen for any screams it I fell and I thanked her.

On the other side, I saw the banana trees and 'maize' from before. As I went further, I came across some workers harvesting the 'maize.' They were striping the leaves off and cutting the canes. I had been wrong, the 'maize' was sugar cane.

The farmers' wagon was in the path and another farmer was bailing and loading the cane. They blocked the route, and being exposed to the mid-afternoon sun I was feeling hot. I decided to turn back, using another part of the former nature trail to return to the resort.

At the resort, I sat and read more. I felt restless as I did not seem to be doing a lot and I lacked contact with others through Email and telephone. Travelling in Laos was so easy, I regretted not bringing the fiance with me, but I did not know if she would be happy with my style of travelling.

As I sat, the afternoon sun an hour from setting, the American woman asked me about my walk. I told her I had not gone far. She said she had already done the two walks on this her first day at the resort. Satisfied she had seen everything there was to see she had asked a ferryman to give her an early morning pickup, so she could move on.

Linda, as I later learned her name, had travel in her soul. She had left America when she was fourteen, which later gave her problems when trying to get her children passports. When she was young, which must have been post-WWII she had stayed in Iran and taught English. There she met and married an Iranian, later they moved to Switzerland where she now lived. In Switzerland, she taught English, but was retired, or semi-retired now. With her new freedom she traveled for three months then stayed in Switzerland for three months and then traveled. She had been to China, Indonesia (A favorite,) Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam twice (Another favorite) and now Laos. She had just finished the South and was headed for the North.

She was thoroughly interesting and we swapped experiences of China, I having been there six year ago, she just one. She traveled without a care to the conditions, and did not worry about finding accommodation. She stayed cheaply and bargained well. A good tip she gave me was to tell the hotel/guest house/hostel she tried how much she was prepared to pay. She did not ask their room rates. If they did not have a room she would ask for a recommendation. She had also savvied out a tuk-tuk fare system based on the distance, she still paid more than the locals, but she did not let the drivers start the bargaining.

I thought I should be more energetic like her, but whether from weakness of just an enjoyment of doing nothing, I decided to stay the third day I had originally planned. The view was still good, though because of the price I would hope so, but I think I was getting more out of the people I met. Possible teaching has made me more sociable or maybe I was lucky on this trip, but previous trips had seemed trials of lonely endurance, this was lazy indulgence and vicarious. I was a leech taking something from the people around me instead of trying to rush between places and store them in a photo album.

This pad is coming to an end, so I will take a rest and continue n the second pad. Someone had asked me why I was writing and I said it was therapy. Also practice of my writing, but mainly therapy. By writing I was etching my experiences more deeply into my memory and reminding myself of their own personal value to me.