The E-Bike Diaries

Sunrise over Bagan

Rather than another long bus ride from Mandalay we decided to cover the 150 km to the temples of Bagan on an 11 hour ‘fast’ boat down the Ayerarwady River.  Setting off at 6am we reached the dark riverside where we were directed down a bank towards some waiting boats.  After wading through sludge and clambering across two moored boats we finally stepped onto our vessel to learn our fate for the day.    The fast boat turned out to be a steel can with a few holes cut in for windows but we gratefully took up residence on the final two red racing seats on the upper deck, thankful we had arrived early enough to avoid being confined to the heat and petrol fumes that engulfed the bottom deck.  As more tourists arrived they filled past us, more in hope than expectation of finding space under the small outdoor section at the back of the boat.  We spent an hour watching all hope leave

Cruising down the Ayerarwady River

people’s eyes as they resigned themselves to the confines below. Any notion that we might get a glimpse into the leisurely life led during the colonial era had been quickly quashed!  One man was clearly trying to keep the dream alive however, dressed in a white suit, Panama hat and smoking a huge cigar he blended in seamlessly with the topless backpackers burning themselves at the back of the boat under the scorching sun.  During the course of the day the river never narrowed to less than 80 metres but as we were in the middle of dry season a young boy spent the entire journey with a rudimentary depth gauge (a big stick) shouting instructions at the captain as we zigzagged from bank to bank trying not to become beached in the shallow waters.  Sandy flood plains lined the sides and only an occasional farmer herding oxen or growing crops provided an interruption to the deserted waterside.  Meeting another English couple the time passed relatively quickly however and as the sun began to set the outline of numerous temples appeared on the horizon, we had made it!

The site around the ancient town of Old Bagan is seen as a less heralded equal to Angkor Wat in Cambodia and our visit to Myanmar had been centred on a trip to see some of the two thousand temples, stupas and monastery’s that cover the flat plains.  During a 230 year period successive kings built over 10,000 Buddhist monuments and although many of them have now been damaged or destroyed by earthquakes over 2000 still remain in various states of repair.  Unfortunately restoration work on the site financed by the military government paid little attention to original architecture and used modern materials to repair a lot of the damage caused by a huge earthquake in 1975.  As such UNESCO will not recognise it as a world heritage site. To describe all of the temples we visited over two days would doubtless make for a boring read but they were all impressive in different ways. Some impress due to their sheer size whilst others contain intricate patterns, statues and frescoes.  The image I will take away were the sweeping views from some of the taller buildings where the spectacular sunrise and sunsets over the site emphasise the scale and uniqueness of the area.  

A slightly less cool Steve McQueen

The site has three small towns situated inside it and we stayed in Nyaung U where we rented an e-bike for two days to explore as much of the area as we could.  Feeling like Steve McQueen we sped along dirt tracks as the crumbling stupas and arid scenery blurred by as we hit speeds of 20km/hr.  'Health and safety' sat on the back concerned about my inability to make turns that a ferry would have found easy but I was having too much fun to care.   Driving past crumbling stupas, towering monastery’s and grazing oxen was captivating as we were able to head up dirt tracks to any building that took our fancy as we passed.  As the afternoon wore on we met an English couple from our hotel and we set off in tandem to hunt out a good spot for sunset.  We ended up lost in a field but fortunately it turned out to be the perfect spot to see the setting sun as private tour guides led a handful of other tourists away from the crowds to our secluded mound (it turned out to be made of dirt and broken pieces of pottery that were thousands of years old).   Driving back our e-bike ran out of power and as we rolled into town luck was on our side as we happened to stop outside another branch of the company we had rented the bike from! 

Sunset over Bagan

The following morning we got up for sunrise and set off in the chilly morning to the famous Shwesandaw Paya, driving straight past it in the dark before making a not so sharp u-turn and reaching the top of the pagoda just in time.  The view was amazing as light bathed the monuments and the early morning fog clung to the trees as a temple broadcast local Buddhist’s chanting.  It was incredibly atmospheric and we left pleased to have got up but disappointed to be heading back for breakfast having not seen the famous image of the hot air balloons rising across the skyline.   A few minutes down the track our e-bike reached top speed when a string of profanities punctuated by the slamming on of the brakes brought us to a screeching gentle stop.  Through the trees we saw the balloons set against a blood red sun and turning the bike setting up to maximum we shot off at 35 km/hr, the cold morning breeze stinging our faces as we hurtled up the dirt track back to the pagoda.  This time the view was truly incredible and despite a less than relaxing early morning we were both left speechless as the balloons drifted across the landscape against the orange sky.  The more that is left un- said about getting up for sunrise and leaving before seeing the sun come up the better!  After another day of exploring the expansive ruins we boarded our cheap night bus to Lake Inle.  Bagan was everything we had hoped it would be and although the concrete repairs and slightly garish modern Buddha statues (complete with fairy lights) detract a little from individual sites the sheer scale and enjoyment of exploring the area was one on the highlights of our trip so far.

The Road to Mandalay

The local petrol station

Due to the over enthusiastic use of air-con on our overnight bus from Yangon we arrived in Mandalay at 5am, red eyed and disorientated from the lack of sleep.  Arriving early always leaves you open to getting stung by the waiting taxi drivers at the bus station but after a little haggling we were able to get a lift in a pick-up van. World over, asking a man for directions can only lead to trouble as regardless of whether they know the direction or not they will happily send you the wrong way rather than admit to their lack of knowledge.  Myanmar proved no exception and despite the driver’s assurances that he knew where to go we soon ended up lost among the unlit back roads of the city. With the help of some friendly locals we eventually arrived at the hotel and we were treated to an early check in and rooftop sunrise breakfast over the foothills of the Himalayas.  Despite the romantic notions that Rudyard Kipling conjures up in A Road to Mandalay the city is a sprawling, dusty collection of poor houses and dirt roads set around Mandalay Hill.  If not beautiful it is certainly captivating as huge golden pagodas rise out from the palm lined streets, trees and vines hide old colonial architecture and monks wearing Ray Bans and smoking cheroot cigars mingle with the day to day life around them.  The streets are teeming with commotion as mopeds weave in and out of the chaotic traffic whilst people amble along trying to plot the safest route to avoid the gaping holes on the pavement and the rickshaws that terrorise the roads.  I loved it!

The moat surrounding the former Palace

Inside one of Mandalay's Pagodas

Deciding that it was safest to walk rather than rent a push bike we set off from the hotel towards the Pagodas that surround Mandalay Hill.  Everywhere seemed to hide Buddhist temples and shrines which were surrounded by such an array of religious junk it might have even provided the catholic church with new money making ideas.   One of the most common sights when walking in Myanmar is the chewing of betel by almost every male who stand idly around in the shade spitting red saliva which stains the roads.  As we walked into town the smiling locals revealed the extent of the addiction in the city. Most men’s teeth are stained a reddish-black, dyed from years of chewing potent parcels of areca nuts and tobacco, wrapped in a lime-coated betel leaf.  Having tried it once I will never be trying it again!  Eventually we managed to negotiate the 30 minute walk without being run over, arriving at the 12 km moat that surrounds the former palace in the heart of the city.  At this point we discovered that the only entrance was on the far side of the area as the grounds were now used as a giant military base.  We decided against the walk and took a motor bike taxi around the edge to the civilian entrance, arriving into the centre of the base where a reconstruction of the wooden palace (it was destroyed in WW2) was still open to the public.  We strolled around the eerily empty wooden buildings before walking back through the base past a parade of soldiers, exercise yards and barracks. Our favourite religious site of the day (we lost count after 5) was visiting one of the last surviving Myanmar style monasteries called Shwe Kyaung.  The teak building was incredibly atmospheric and the building was covered in beautiful carvings and patterns.  It appeared to only still be standing via divine intervention though as rotted floor boards and crumbling columns creaked under our feet.  From here we climbed up Mandalay Hill, past impoverished families living alongside golden Buddha's with flashing halos to a viewpoint overlooking the flat plains and distant mountains that eventually rise up to the summit of Mount Everest.   

The countryside around the ancient city of Inwa

Having decided to stay an extra night in the city we hired a taxi for the day to drive us round the ancient towns surrounding Mandalay.  Our friendly taxi driver Ohnsein was surprisingly candid about the current regime and the problems living in Burma (he preferred to be known as Burmese), telling us about the increasing use of alcohol and the government selling off key resources to China who use their own labour rather than local workers.   He described the political situation as being a fake democracy and he seemed very despondent about the future of the country.  When the military dictatorship began, Myanmar boasted the first international airport in South East Asia, a strong economy and a vibrant culture.  Looking around Mandalay and Yangon all that is left are crumbling colonial buildings left to rot by the regime as economic sanctions have crippled the country.  On its western border Thailand has similar resources and yet boasts an economy four times as strong with modern infrastructure and booming tourism.  It is easy to see why the large scale Saffron demonstration in 2007 took place and continued civil unrest plagues the nation.

  

The hazy view form Sagaing Hill

As we left the city, Ohnsein was kind enough to show us some of the local craftsmen who make exceptionally detailed sculptures from marble and wood using just rusty hammers and chisels. Just outside of the city we stopped at a huge monastery complex that seemed to be a training centre for young monks. Every male is expected to take up residence in a monastery twice in their lives through which their families earns increased distinction.   To the untrained eye there seem to be two very distinct groups of monks that live within Myanmar, those that follow a strict, traditional faith and the younger monks that smoke, have tattoos and live alongside the rest of society.  Monks live on the donations from the poor and are meant to forsake temptation.  The modern monk seemed to me to be living a strange life of relative luxury in comparison to the poor locals and yet were revered as a respected class in society above those that they lived alongside.  This was emphasised when we stopped at Sagaing Hill where a series of monasteries, a hospital and a university complex lined the winding road up to the top of the hill that overlooks the surrounding area.   The breath taking view takes in giant Chinese and British steel bridges that span the Ayeyarwady River as well as the golden spires of hundreds of pagodas that punctuate the landscape.  It seemed to encompass perfectly the unique history of the country.

Our favourite stop of the day was taking a short boat ride to the ancient city of Inwa, set on a section of land cut off by rivers.  We took a two hour trip around the ancient city on a traditional horse and cart (after Hannah had vetted them to find a happy looking horse).  Despite gaining piles from the bumpy track we happily meandered past ancient brick temples and through lush green banana trees and emerald coloured paddy fields.  We were able to stop along the way at the huge Bagaya Kyaung monastery, made from 267 teak columns and Maha Aungmye Bonzan, a ruined stone temple set alongside the river.  Heading back towards the city we stopped at the longest teak bridge in the world (quite who measured them and why is a mystery) which measures 1300 yards and had a Myanmar Beer which has supposedly won a number of global awards, although these were spelt wrong!  As we watched the local fisherman and farmers ploughing the pastures alongside the river a tour group of middle aged Europeans drunk champagne from glass flutes on rowing boats in the river.  We decided to leave before it got too raucous but as we approached the taxi we were stopped by a protest towards the Thai Government about the flawed investigation that has recently found two Myanmar nationals guilty of the murder of a young English couple.  It transpires that the Thai embassy has been closed in Myanmar and land crossings between the two nations have gone from being difficult to impossible.  With disputes from its neighbours, stunted development and the military regime still firmly in control it seems the people of Myanmar still have a long road ahead of them.

Myanmar - Behind the doors of the worlds newest 'democracy'

The Shwedagon Pagoda

After 6 months in which we went through 24 countries, 8 time zones and travelled the equivalent distance of half of the equator we finally took a flight!  Granted it was only a 45 minute flight and it made our VISA and entry into Myanmar (Burma) far easier but when we left the tarmac I could not help but feel we were cheating a little.  We had spent the previous week ‘relaxing’ with Meera in Bangkok, a novelty as we were living in accommodation with a flight of stairs for the first time since Italy.  Over the ‘relaxing’ week I had been diagnosed with having quite bad Asthma, we had got a new job in Hanoi for August and I had eaten substantially more chicken and cashew nut stir fry than doctors would recommend for a balanced diet!  We were not sure what to expect when we arrived in Yangon, other than both being very excited to a visit a country we had heard such positive things about.  Some of the country is still in the grips of a civil war but with recent elections appearing to ease the military dictatorship that has been in power since 1948 (another success story for British colonialism) we were excited to see the country before too much rampant capitalism had been allowed in.    Even with the recent landslide election win for the National League for Democracy the army has still kept 25% of the seats in government for itself and it retains a veto over all constitutional matters. Some of the country is however still off limits to foreign visitors, particularly around the northern state of Kachin that has huge problems with opium production and addiction.  Whist trying to avoid the travellers stereotype that we had come to Myanmar searching for a ‘genuine experience’ (unless we are in the Matrix surely it is all genuine regardless of development???!!) we hoped Myanmar would allow us to have an insight into an Asia that existed before full moon parties!

Yangon colonial train station

The journey from the airport into the Yangon city centre gave us a glimpse into the poverty that exists within Myanmar.  Due to the Buddhist culture in Myanmar we had been told that theft is very rare and that even Taxi drivers could be trusted!  It was therefore such a pleasant change not to have to argue with taxi drivers at the airport and being able to trust the price they gave us. On paper it is the poorest country I have visited and it was immediately very apparent.  We passed crumbling old colonial buildings, roadside slums and rubbish lined pavements as we took apparent short cuts through a maze of back streets to avoid the traffic.  Despite the living conditions smiling faces beamed at us as we sat in chaotic traffic and for the first time since entering Asia I felt like I was viewed as a human rather than a walking bank note.  It makes such a difference to your mind set in a country and despite the poverty that afflicts most of Myanmar the people have been incredibly welcoming and generous. 

After a quick stop at the hotel we went on our first foray into Yangon to see the Shwedagon Pagoda, a pilgrimage site for Buddhists across the world.  According to some, the pagoda is 2,600 years old, making it the oldest in the world. The main gold-plated dome is topped by a stupa containing over 7,000 diamonds, rubies, topaz and sapphires positioned to reflect the last rays of the setting sun.  The temples are a place where people sit, eat and relax and we sat for hours watching the monks in red robes meditating in front of the hundreds of Buddha statues that are situated around the central pagoda that towers over the city at just over 300 feet.  As the sun set hundreds of people lit candles, burnt incense and placed brightly coloured flowers along the temples walls as the dome grew increasing golden against the scarlet coloured sky.  It was as awe inspiring as our visit to The Blue Mosque in Istanbul had been and we headed back to our hotel with increased anticipation for the next few weeks.

The Shwedagon Pagonda

The following morning we set off to see the heart of the city, a collection of chaotic roads, decaying buildings and vast construction from the foreign investment that is beginning to pour into the country.  One noticeable difference from anywhere else I have been was the lack of a tertiary sector; even in the heart of the largest city there were no office blocks or banks.  We started by wandering the 2000 stalls that make up Bogyoke Aung Sun Market (it used to be called the Scott Market after the British Civil servant who introduced football to the country) where brightly coloured material was being tailored into traditional longyis that are worn around the waist by both men and women like a sarong.   We walked from here down to the riverfront, past open sewers with giant rats and groups of people sheltering under trees from the intense heat whilst eating some of the vast array of street food.  We stopped at the more local Sule Pago pagoda (situated in the middle of a five lane roundabout) and a local explained a little more about the temples and why pagodas have a shrine to each of the days of the week around them.  Apparently I had to tip water over the shrine dedicated to the day I was born and it would bring me good luck and wealth.  A few days’ later and the results are still inconclusive at best!  

The final pagoda we visited in the city was on the waterfront and housed a 50 foot high bronze Buddha.  We sat in the shade to rehydrate and watched a young family praying before putting a donation through a slot into a locked box.  As the family left we watched the ancient security guard, coughing and wheezing, carefully insert a chop stick into the slot, fish out the money and without an ounce of shame insert it straight into his wallet!  We sat and watched the artful dodger repeat the trick again and we were then faced with a moral dilemma of whether we should report the crime.  Deciding that in a state run by a notoriously fierce military junta a reported theft by a tourist could lead to a brutal punishment so we left the pagoda slightly disappointed that our experience had been tainted.  The taxi driver soon reminded us of why we were enjoying the country so much though as he gleefully played us clips of him singing karaoke that he had proudly posted on uchuss (we eventually worked out he meant Youtube).  He also tried to explain the rules of Chinlone, a game played on every corner in Myanmar where 6 players have to pass a ball made of woven rattan to each other without it touching the ground.  The game is not about winning as such but the focus is on how beautifully you can play the game, reflecting the tranquil nature of the Buddhist culture that we had experienced.

The paddy fields on the outskirts of the city

The city suburbs

Having withdrawal symptoms from not being on a train for over a week we sought to rectify the situation by taking the slow moving ‘commuter’ train around the city suburbs on a three hour, 31 mile circular line to try and get a taste of local life.  The extent of the poverty was laid bare as we passed huts made of corrugated metal, plastic sheets and woven rattan which had no electricity or sewers. Rubbish was piled around them and streams running with black water lay stagnant as children lay around in the shade.  Occasionally the houses were broken up by small plantations of rice and other vegetables but despite the tough living conditions smiles still beamed at us from every person working in the blistering midday sun.  Despite the poverty local family’s still offered to share their food with us and curious children delighted in shouting hello and waving to us.  It was interesting to see how locals lived and to get a sense of the community support that must exist to survive in the poor suburbs of the city. Meeting an Italian couple on the train the three hour circuit went by quickly and after we had lunch with them in the market we made our way back to the hotel to wait for our bus north to the city of Mandalay.  We left Yangon in the way we had arrived; laughing in a taxi as the driver beeped incessantly to warn people of their impending doom should they get in our way whilst singing along to Celine Dion.  

From Peace and Tranquillity to Mr Rainbow on a lawnmower

We headed north into the more remote areas of Laos to the village of Nong Khiaw, nestled in between more of the karst topography we had missed in China and the Nam Ou River.  On the four hour journey north we met the most perfectly stereotypical Frenchman imaginable (minus a baguette and onions), Clemont and his Russian girlfriend, Katya.  Sporting a beard Santa would have been jealous of we spent the next couple of days with them, having a great time exploring the local villages (with two other French lads), trekking to a waterfall through the jungle and kayaking on the river.  Our guide, Ded, was completing his final year of his law qualification ‘volunteering’ with the government (it is enforced to become fully accredited) and taught us about the local minorities and the role of the village elder in keeping the law.  His own family had paid for his degree by selling their Oxen (worth $1300 each) and explained what a huge sacrifice it had been as the money from one Oxen could have sustained a whole family for around 4-5 years!  The huts in the village were made of expertly woven bamboo and it had a small but basic school for the 30 or so families that lived there.  Despite the beautiful surroundings however it was easy to see why Laos ranks among the poorest countries outside of Africa worldwide.  

We left the village behind and began walking between the recently harvested paddy fields, ascending through the jungle as the karst hills rose away from the river side.  Crossing backwards and forwards across the stream and scrabbling up steep rocks we broke into a small, picturesque clearing where a waterfall plunged into a small pool.  Wasting no time Clemont stripped stark naked, changed and dived straight into the pool.  He was followed closely by the rest of us but in a slightly more reserved, English manner! Having had a dip in the freezing water we ate sticky rice and after Ded had recovered from seeing a naked Frenchman defecate on his serene jungle clearing we headed back down to the river to kayak home.   If we had realised how long this would take I doubt we would have made it to the end (at one point Hannah and Katya held on desperately to the boat for a lift) whilst me and Clemont struggled to the village, swearing loudly around every bend that did not reveal Nong Khiaw.  Despite the long kayak home the scenery was everything we had hoped to see in Laos and we even got to swim with some water buffalo in the river before we eventually made it back to the village.

Unfortunately travelling does not always go as planned and my cough that we had hoped to get seen to in Bangkok deteriorated quickly.  We therefore had to cut short our stay In Laos and head south towards Thailand early to get antibiotics and a check-up.  This was not as easy as we had first hoped, due in part to my insistence that we take the long route out via western Laos but largely as our bus was about as noisy, comfortable and fast as a lawnmower!  Meeting a German couple, Jurgen and Maria, we travelled west along a newly constructed mountain pass that ran through the isolated villages perched on top of high ridges in the clouds.  The road was still being built in places and progress was often slow and bumpy.  We were frequently stopped by people holding long bamboo shoots with green and red carrier bags tied to their end acting as makeshift traffic lights as we wound through the mountains.  As the giant red sun set on the villages the rolling green hills were dotted with bonfires and candlelight’s (there is limited electricity in the villages) which capped a long day of travelling with the most idyllic of finishes.  The following morning we headed south to the border at break neck speed, again with Jurgen and Maria for company.  Travelling at less than 30 km an hour in the blistering heat we were seated alongside an old women wearing a knitted woollen hat and heavy coat to keep warm in the harsh climate of Laos’ winter!  I was disappointed to leave Laos so early, particularly because 3 more Chinese dams and a high speed rail line are scheduled for construction next year, potentially changing the peaceful nature of the country for ever. We reached a deserted border crossing and after being given a generous 30 day VISA for free we stopped at the city of Chang Rai to rest before the final push to Bangkok.

To my shock we discovered a Boots Pharmacy near our hotel in Chang Rai and having purchased some antibiotics we were able to recover for a few nights rather than ploughing on, catching up with job applications and general life.  It turned out to be a baptism of fire into Thailand as it lived up to some of my preconceived ideas about the country within hours.  Chang Rai was unfortunately full of overweight, balding cockneys with young Thai girlfriends but as disheartening as this was I was introduced in spectacular fashion to the vibrant and colourful Thai culture.  Having finished dinner in the night bazaar (which was full of the same identical Chinese imports we had seen in Laos) we turned a corner and encountered a mini version of the Rio Festival which turned out was a huge parade of lady boys, punctuated by Mr Rainbow 2015 himself.  Three hosts (think three burly builders in drag who sounded like Mr Chow from The Hangover) flamboyantly introduced each of the flotillas of dancing queens into the huge central area which had been covered in one of the most colourful displays of flowers we have seen anywhere in the world.  The atmosphere was great fun although in an increasing state of bewilderment Hannah gently guided me away as I got a wink from Mr Rainbow 2015 himself!

New Year in Laos

Heading to Laos we were hoping to spend a few weeks in the countryside having spent winter largely in cities. The bus ride from Hanoi to the former capital, Luang Prabang showed us exactly what we wanted to see!  We crossed the border high in the rugged Annamite Mountains surrounded by lush green forest in one of the numerous national parks across the country.  Bleary eyed from the lack of sleep we were unfortunately on the bottom of a set of bunk beds on the bus (a new experience for me on a bus!) and did not have the best view out of the window so we were relieved to arrive after a gruelling 30 hour journey!  Luang Probang was the former capital under the royal family and it lies on a peninsula between the small Nam Khan River and the mighty Mekong River that acts as the main life line for transport and goods across the country, as well as the border to Thailand in the west of the country.  The town is full of colour as monks of all ages dressed in bright orange robes move in between the ornate temples and hoards tourists.  As Buddhist temples act in parallel with government schools in Laos the temples are full of young monks reading and learning and gives the town, as well as the country, a calm feeling (unless you are using any form of transport!).

A giant BBQ at the Night Market

We set off on New Year’s Eve to visit Kuang Si Waterfall, an hour’s journey outside of Luang Probang in the lush jungle surrounding the town.  As we sped along the bumpy road in a minivan faces of terrified passengers sat at the back of the passing tuc-tucs inched further up the cramped rows of the benches they perched on trying to stay clear of our driver who it appeared was trying to force them from the road.  We made it in record time to the waterfall and after another BBQ we walked through the jungle and to our surprise encountered a group of black Asian bears who had been rescued from poachers.  Free the Bears have set up similar centres across South East Asia and India in a bid to raise awareness of animal rights and conservation among local communities.  Many animals such as elephants, leopards and rhinos are now endangered following the carpet bombing of the region by Richard Nixon, Chinese beliefs that strange body parts of animals contain aphrodisiacs and illegal deforestation, which if continued will leave Laos with just 30% of its trees by 2020.  Walking up through the jungle we followed the river that had turned turquoise from the calcium carbonate in the lime stone rocks and made it to the top to see the spectacular 50m high waterfall plunging into the azure pool below.  After a swim in the freezing cold water we headed back to town, forcing any moped, tuk-tuk or farm animal we encountered to flee for cover as we raced back for New Year’s Eve festivities. 

As there as only one bar in Luang Probang hosting a New Year’s Eve party our options were limited to crowds of backpackers or the local show on a huge stage in the centre of the town.  We tried to start the evening by drinking the bottle of champagne Hannah had carried across from Vietnam, heading down one of the steep flights of steps that led down to the river to toast the New Year.  Unfortunately the champagne was flat and clearly years out of date and a drunk local staggered to the top of the flight of steps and narrowly avoided urinating over us!  The evening was rounded off by listening to two Laotians talking non-stop to a crowd that could be at best described as sparse whilst we waited for the promised fireworks that never came - walking home in the rain we could at least be sure 2016 could only get better!

The town itself was a good tonic from the giant metropolises of China but not quite as ‘authentic’ (if such a description of local communities exists anymore) of rural Laos as we wanted to try and see.  The town is geared up for both backpackers and people on short holidays and in the centre is mainly tour operators, restaurants and hotels as well as the obligatory people selling ‘local’ crafts imported cheaply from China.  The giant night market also sells amazing BBQ food though We still enjoyed meandering alongside the river and narrow streets, as well as exploring the fantastic temples.  The former Royal Residence of Laos was set in beautiful gardens and although nowhere near as grand as other palaces we have seen was an interesting insight into rule before the 1975 communist overthrow.  Amazingly a gift in 1972 from Richard Nixon, at the peak of the bombing of Laos which saw more bombs dropped on the region than during the whole of WW2 had engraved on it American desire to spread global democracy and peace!  We also climbed Mount Phousi in the centre of the town to be welcomed with stunning panoramic views over the surrounding jungle and rivers that highlighted just how green a country Laos is!  We began the tedious process of finding a bus that was not trying to rip us off to take us the more remote areas of Northern Laos and eventually we were able to begin our journey to find river trips through the jungle that are still accessible after the recent building of dams by the Chinese throughout the country!