CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE PUN: “Great Scott!! 1.21 Angkor giga-Wats!” or “A sphincter Angkor says Wat?”

The day we arrived in Siem Reap was Justin’s birthday. I made it our first order of business to find cake. I had missed out on cake for my birthday and wanted to make sure it didn’t happen again. But, really, I didn’t need that much of an excuse.

Siem Reap only exists in its current form because of Angkor Wat. Angkor Wat is the biggest draw in Cambodia by far, and maybe the biggest tourist attraction in all of southeast Asia. Siem Reap, therefore, is understandably full of tourists and the stuff tourists like, such as $.50 beer and mediocre bakeries. We were there for Angkor Wat, so that’s what we did. And also, maybe some of that other stuff.

Angkor Wat is only the central temple in the larger city of Angkor. It may have been the most important of the lot, but I don’t think it is the most impressive. The enormous moat is a sight and the complex is large, but the temple itself is just a version of most other wats turned up to 11. It didn’t help that green construction tarps over the front facade were a huge middle finger in all the best photo ops. I thought the coolest temple was Bayon, covered in over 200 carved faces of some guy named Avalokiteshvara.

someone staring at you is creepy. Two hundred people staring from every direction? Oddly intriguing

I also got to play with a tiny puppy who lived in a hole under one of the staircases there. That upped Bayon’s adorable level quite a bit.

The rest of Angkor has many many other structures, including one temple used to film such cinematic masterpieces as Tomb Raider. Most everything only has a Khmer name, with the exception of the translated Terrace of Elephants and the Terrace of the Leper King. The Terrace of the Leper King, by the way, is the most awesomest name anything has ever had ever. Screw a band, I want to name my kid after it.

To get around Angkor you can go on a tour bus, hire a tuk-tuk, or rent a bicycle. The tuk-tuk is by far the most popular option. Team America chose to bike. There are two circuits around the city, one long, one short. Somehow we inadvertently started on the longer circuit. Once you’re on it there’s really no way to get off of it, so we had to finish the whole thing. We wound up biking over 45 kilometers (that’s 28 miles for the metrically challenged) that day by accident, missing lunch and going through about 5 liters (or 1.3 gallons. Learn the metric system already, gosh!) of water apiece. For dinner we each ate an entire pizza. It was the most delicious food I’ve ever had ever.

After our Tour de Angkor we treated ourselves to a tethered balloon ride to get a better vantage of Angkor Wat. The view was farther away than it seemed from the ground and the green middle finger hadn’t gone away, so it was only a so-so treat.

The next day we went to different ruins in the ancient city of Roluos, this time with a tuk-tuk*. The Roluos group predates Angkor but is much smaller, both in the number of temples and their sizes. We still saw some interesting things, though. At one site we stumbled upon lunch time for hundreds of Buddhist monks and nuns.

instead of "nom nom" they make a cute "ohm ohm" sound

*I think if we had tried to bike again my legs would have fallen off. But then I guess I could have sat around the Terrace of the Leper King all day in fake bandages playing funny gags on people. Oh man, and I thought the Terrace of the Leper King couldn’t get any cooler.

At another site we talked for a while with a monk who taught an English class for local kids. He was a friendly guy so we gave him a couple of bucks for a dictionary he had mentioned wanting to buy. Because that’s just the kind of magnanimous dudes we are. We also got to experience our tuk-tuk getting a flat tire. This involved no monks at all. It was pretty lame.

Before we left town we wanted to catch a sunset from one wat on the highest hill in Angkor. When we got there, around about the time you would to watch the sun set, the way up was closed and roped off. Demonstrating that no problem can’t be overcome with a bit of cash, we gave the guard $1 and scrambled up a “path” through the woods up the side of the hill. The temple was interesting and worth the visit, but the sunset was meh. If my recollection is correct that was my first for-real, unambiguous bribe, so the trip was worth it for the street cred alone.

Angkor is cool and worth visiting. But I can’t stress this enough: DO NOT go to Stung Treng.

Remembering someone you’ve never met? That’s memory time travel, you guys!

We had heard and read lots of rumors and anecdotes and heresay about crossing from Laos into Cambodia in the 4000 Islands. The post is closed, no it’s open again; you need a visa beforehand, no you can get them on site; it costs more; it’s better to get a packaged transport deal; and so on. Most of us had gotten visas already to be on the safe side, but Team England were granted them on arrival for only a few dollars more than we had paid. We did have to pay “fees,” which I would have translated as “bribes,” on both the Laos and Cambodia side, including one dollar to have our temperature taken. We were also overcharged some for the minibus to our stop for the night, but with such a closed market there wasn’t much we could do about it. I’d call the whole experience smooth with only the standard level of corruption.

Because of what time we crossed the border and the possible bus routes, we could only get as far as a town called Stung Treng. Stung Treng is a shithole. This is not an opinion but a Factual Statement of Truth. Stung Treng, out of all the towns I’ve ever stayed in for the entirety of my existence, is most deserved of the term “shithole.” Maybe I’ve been on bus rides that have passed through poorer towns, but none could match the dirty trashpiles that are the main sights of Stung Treng. Seriously, the dictionary definition of “shithole” goes

1. a rundown, unattractive place
2. Stung Treng, Cambodia

It’s single redeeming quality is that buses leave it for other places. I cannot stress this enough: DO NOT go to Stung Treng.

To get to Siem Reap we had to change buses at a random rest stop. We had our first encounter here with a common phenomenon in the tourist parts of Cambodia: merchant girls. We were swarmed immediately stepping off the bus by dozens of pre-teen girls selling bags of various fruit in this case. It’s hard to capture their unique speech cadence in writing, but that won’t stop me from trying and failing.

Merchant Girl 1: I remember youuuuu. You remember meeeee?
MG2: You buy from meeeee?
MG3: You want some fruuuuit?
Me: Uh….
MG4: Where you frooooom?
MG1: You have girlfrieeeeend?
MG3: You so handsommme.
MG2: You buy from meeeee!
MG4: You like spideeeer?
Me: I don’t want any…Wait, what?
MG2: I have mangooooo!
MG1: Why you no have girlfrieeeeend?
MG4: You no buy from me I give spideeeer.
Me: What’s this business about…Oh, hey, there’s a giant spider on me now.
MG2: I have pineappllllle!

After many minutes of being remembered and remembering, being interrogated about my lack of a girlfriend, and having enormous spiders tossed on my shirt, I discovered that the threshold of the rest stop’s restaurant created some sort of magical force field the creatures couldn’t cross. Like vampires over running water, or mimes in that box. I eventually caved while we were boarding the new bus and bought some pineapple from a particularly cheeky girl. I guess I’m a softie for high pressure sales tactics wrapped in adolescence. That, and I found out that not participating in spider assaults makes me more likely to buy something from you.

I suck at blogging, but I’m great at going to school for free

You may have noticed, loyal readers, a bit of a slowdown in my posting rate. Unlike the last time this happened in Australia, it’s not because of lack of internet access but because of more important demands on my time. I do have a life that does not involve entertaining you, you know.

After finishing Year Off I will attend the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign to get my masters in urban planning. This was a recent and last-minute decision, but it is now a final decision. Illinois basically said, “Hey dude, how about we pay you to go to school here.” Not having debt sounded pretty OK. This deal took a lot of emailing and researching on my part and put the blog on a slowdown. This also means I’ll have about three weeks back in Boston before I have to hit the road again, so I’ve been spending a lot of time lately preemptively taking care of as much crap as possible. It didn’t help that all of this was more interesting than churning out jokes for you sheeple guys.

I may now forever be behind, but everything will get chronicled eventually. So stop whining, it’s very unbecoming.

Budgeting for: Laos

Laos, for one of the poorest countries in the world, turned out to be not nearly as cheap as I expected it might be. It was on par with, sometimes more expensive than, Thailand. There’s not a whole lot to see, so my time there was relatively short in comparison to my norm. When this happens my averages typically skew slightly higher because the fixed costs are spread over a smaller number of days, especially in a country with a visa fee like Laos. While I was there 1 dollar was about 8,500 kip.

SLEEPING
Guesthouses were the same or more expensive than Thailand. Justin and I shared a room the whole time, which helped, so we only paid $3 on average. If I had been on my own it would have been closer to the $4-7 range. The two nights during the kayaking trip was included in the price.

EATING
Food is still cheap in Laos, and if you’re coming from Thailand it can be remarkably different. As a former French colony Laos begins the world of coffee and baguettes. It was a welcome change for me. Almost all of my meals were from markets for $1-2. The most expensive was dinner in an Indian restaurant for $3.50. Food on the kayaking trip was included.

GETTING AROUND
The two day trips in Luang Prabang were in a tuk-tuk shared by four people for $3.50-4.70 each. The slow boat ticket, which I bought in Thailand, was $33. The two long distance buses were $13 and $24. Everything else up to Cambodia was included in the kayaking trip.

DOING STUFF
I spent a few bucks here and there to get into wats, waterfalls, and caves. The crummier wats are usually free and the others are hardly ever worth the price. Our one frame at the bowling alley was $1.75 each between four of us. I’ve mentioned the kayaking trip enough that maybe it’s time to say what that actually cost. It was expensive, $132, but a fun time. I’d recommend it over the cheaper do-it-yourself alternative.

BOTTOM LINE
In 11 days I spent $350, or $32/day. Without the kayaking trip it was only $27/day. These numbers include the visa fee which was $36. As always, your mileage may vary.

Ze cheese, eet eez not here. WE NEED LE TRAIN!

The two activities to do in Pakse are visiting ruined Wat Phu Campaska and hiking the Bolaven plateau. With Angkor Wat and Vietnamese coffee plantations on the horizon we didn’t do either of those things. Instead, we relaxed for a day and planned our attack on the 4000 Islands.

The 4000 Islands is an archipelago in the Mekong river along the border with Cambodia. Descriptions of the area, the villages, and the river life have romance crapping out both ends. We decided that, rather than lay on the beach or float around in a tube, we’d go extreme and kayak for three days. Because tubes are for wusses. We were joined on our tour by two women from Australia, a couple from England, and two guides, all in two-man kayaks. The first day involved the most kayaking and covered the most distance. Team America’s superior strength, endurance, and piloting abilities quickly propelled us into a position of dominance. Team England, effectively a 1.5 person outfit, proved to be the weak link. Team Laos preferred splashing everyone and pushing each other into the river to everything else.

On the second day we saw the remains of the first train in Laos built by the French. Only the French, probably desperate for a transportation system to move their supply of wine and fresh berets around the colonies, would think a rail system in a group of small, rocky islands is a good idea. It’s derelict now. The kayaking journey began with a group of big rapids which Team America powered through with grace and skill. Team Australia flipped. Twice. The rest of the day we encountered a few smaller rapids and tricky bits of navigation around rocks and shallows. There were no more casualties due in large part to Team America’s expert lead in the first position. Before finishing for the day we stopped to watch a pod of Irrawaddy dolphins. These dolphins are famous in the Mekong area mostly for being scarce. I think there are something like twelve of them. That’s still more than enough, though, for at least one of them to realize an inter-island train is a stupid idea.

We spent that night in a homestay in a small village. Around sunset all the women and children bathe and wash clothes and dishes in the river. They do almost everything* in the river, but bath time seemed especially fun.

I used to play with a boat, too, but mine was four inches long and made of plastic

*EVERYTHING.

While we were lounging the village got a new boat delivery. It was mammoth and weighed a ton, so of course Team America, although off-duty, pitched in our brute strength and team leadership to carry it to the river. The boat was successfully launched majestically into the sunset. After dinner our hosts performed a special ceremony for luck which involved incense, prayers, and strings tied around our wrists. It was a nice and appreciated sentiment, but Team America doesn’t need no stinkin’ luck.

On our last day we bicycled to the other side of the island to reunite with the kayaks. The route went through all the small villages and was very pretty and friendly. Team America turned out to be as good at cycling as we had proven to be at kayaking and boat carrying. And the village kids were themselves quite good at waving and chasing us. The third stretch of river had the fastest and longest sections of rapids, although none as big as The Australia Killer from the day before. After three days of experience no one had any trouble, only fun, not that that was a surprise in our case. I was very happy we decided to see the islands the way we did. Doing it the “normal” way would have been a little dull. Plus, it gave us a chance to discover just how deep our awesomness went*. And yet another chance to facepalm about the French.

*ANSWER: Really really deep.

The next panels show Buddha inventing rainbows and eating ten gallons of ice cream in one sitting

Justin and I had similar agendas all the way through Vietnam, so we left Luang Prabang together and headed for Vientiane. Vientiane is the capital of Laos, but it doesn’t have much else going for it. It’s not attractive or interesting or fun. The leftover French colonial influence present in the entirety of Laos is concentrated in Vientiane, meaning there’s an abundance of baguettes* and cafes. That’s about it.

*God bless the French and their bread. Years of foreign rule and silly hats are TOTALLY WORTH IT if it means 80 years later I get tasty sandwiches again.

What sights there were to see we squeezed in between getting our Cambodian visas squared away. There’s an approximation of the Arc de Triumph which even the info plaque characterizes as ugly “like a monster of concrete.” There’s Pha That Luang, the famous golden stupa that graces the national seal. I would have been satisfied just starting at a 10,000 kip bill. And there’s Wat Si Saket filled with over 2,000 Buddhas. Because one can neeever see too many Buddhas. The sightseeing was salvaged only by spontaneously helping a monk with his English homework and by the temple covered in scenes from the life of Buddha which we could narrate as ridiculously as we wanted.

Buddha rode Pegasus to heaven then cut his hair for a fight against Blanca from Street Fighter and Goro from Mortal Kombat

Other than that the river was low, the weather was hot, and the bugs were plentiful. We skipped town at our earliest convenience.

I’ve been on many a night bus, including a few in Asia, but the one we took from Vientiane was the weirdest. Instead of regular seats there were two rows of double decker bunk beds. Besides double decker the beds were double occupancy. If Justin and I hadn’t booked our tickets together we could have been stuck with weirdo strangers. Hot chick or fat, smelly man? The risks don’t seem worth the potential benefits. If the beds weren’t Asian sized I might have gotten a good night’s sleep. Until, of course, I was abruptly bounced six inches into the air. Our bus screeched to a halt, paused for a few moments to collect itself, then hauled ass back the way we had came. Another pause and another u-turn and we were headed back on course. After information gathering and assessing the mangled front end in the morning we learned that our bus had been hit by an asshole rogue bus. We saw our bus later that evening covered in tape bandages limping back towards Vientiane. Maybe they’ll put it out of its misery and replace it with something with actual places to sit. Buses are for sleeping not unwelcome spooning.

Being on the other side of the world doesn’t make me suck less at bowling, either

Luang Prabang is a chill, relaxed town. It’s got a big night market, is full of monks, and has a thing for cheap, yummy vegetarian buffets. It’s a pretty good place to enjoy freedom decompress after purgatory the slow boat.

I shared a room with Justin, whom I met on the bus from Chiang Mai. We woke up early our first morning to watch a ritual not uncommon in southeast Asia but blown way out of proportion in Luang Prabang. Buddhist monks are only allowed to get food by donation, so every morning they walk around with buckets for people to throw charity food into. In Luang Prabang hundreds of monks do this at 6 AM in single file. That’s a lot of orange all in one place. They’re too busy trying to collect stuff to eat to pose for pictures, but that doesn’t stop every tourist willing to set their alarm clock from trying.

like an orange, bald, hungry centipede

There are so many temples in town that in the evening at prayer time synchronous monotone chanting follows you wherever you go. Every once in a while there might also be some unintentional harmonizing, which is, well, eerie.

We went on a day trip to a close by terraced waterfall. Despite it being a stupidly hot day the water was wonderfully frigid. The best way to make the most of it was to George of the Jungle off the rope swing to receive the temperature shock all at once. We went on a second day trip to some sacred caves filled with Buddha statues. The place seemed more like some old lady’s crowded attic than an important religious site. But then again, I’ve seen Buddhas (and Jesuses, and Marys) stuck in stranger places.

After you’ve watched the morning soul train, swum in the ice falls, and visited Buddha’s storage cave, there’s only one way to spend a late night in Luang Prabang: bowling. Bars close early, but the bowling alley stays open past midnight and continues to serve alcohol illegally. I guess I subconsciously expected bowling in Laos to somehow be different than it is in America. Other than doing it barefoot there was no difference, even down to the lame scorekeeping system animations and the obnoxious drunk people two lanes over.

One of the weirdest experiences I’ve had on the trip also happened in Luang Prabang, but at a temple not the bowling alley. I took off my flip-flops before entering, following standard procedure, and looked around inside. When I came out my flip-flops had disappeared. In their place was a new, strange pair of flip-flops. I had been the only dude in the temple, but maybe I should go back in and double check. Nope, nobody. I should wander around the grounds a bit to look for someone either barefoot or wearing my sandals. Nope, nobody there, either. Hey, these are new. My old ones were pretty grimy and worn. Maybe I have a secret admirer? I can’t insult them and just leave these here. And walking home with no shoes wouldn’t be fun. Still no one around? Last chance….SCORE, NEW FLIP-FLOPS! The End.

The third way is the fast boat at only six hours. Possible side effects include temporary partial hearing loss and death. This option was never really on the table

There are two ways to get to Luang Prabang in Laos from the border with Thailand. You can either sit on an overcrowded, uncomfortable boat for two days, spending one night in a crap town in the middle of nowhere. Or you can sit on a cramped, uncomfortable bus for 16 hours and travel some of the most horrendous roads in the world. I opted for the boat thing. To tell the truth, I had been looking forward to the slow boat down the Mekong River for a while. As much of a pain (literally; in the butt) it is, it’s the best way to get from A to B. It’s relaxing and you get to watch the scenery go by. And no matter how much someone hates the slow boat, everyone loooves to complain about it.

I’d heard in Thailand that the Mekong was particularly low even by dry season standards and the slow boat had been suspended for a month. The month before that it couldn’t make it the whole way, so passengers had to get off before the lowest part, sleep on the beach instead of the regular pit stop, and walk downriver to get on a new boat the next day. There were plenty of rumors floating around when I tried to find out if it was possible to take the boat, the leading information being that the day I wanted to go was the first day it was scheduled to run again. I guess China finally released some water upstream or something, which, from my impression of China, seems uncharacteristically big of them. I’ve been told lots of things while fact finding, from bus routes that don’t exist to airports being closed that aren’t, so the only thing to do was head toward Laos and see what happened. That’s how adventures happen, you guys!

To get to the border I took a minibus from Chiang Mai with about seven other people and spent the night in Chiang Khong, Thailand. In the morning we crossed the river to Laos, got our passports stamped, and headed to the slow boat. The slow boat is a covered long boat, the back filled with two rows of very straight-backed, hard looking benches, the front narrow and bare wood. Somehow we were latecomers and by the time we boarded the only place left to sit was the middle of the floor in the front. Luckily my neighbors were friendly and let me squeeze in for a bit of railing to lean on and gave me a spare cushion* to sit on. As it turns out this was probably the most comfortable spot on the entire boat. I settled in to spend the next eight hours of my ass-numbing, weary life.

*This cushion is now the #1 Best Gift anyone has ever given me. That’s just how much the slow boat can warp your priorities.

you can almost see the life draining away

The journey started inauspiciously enough, our boat crashing into another one during the launch, making a great awful crunching sound. Bets on how long it would take to run aground on a rock were immediately placed. I took the second day in the morning. There’s only a few activities available on the slow boat: sitting, standing, staring, and drinking. There may be barely enough room for all the passengers, but of course there was room for a bar at the back. My section did our fare share of all of those things except for drinking. We did way more than our share of that. As the day wore on and our butts wore out the amount and rate of beer consumption increased dramatically. Three guys in particular could only be classified as stumbling drunk by the time we stopped for the night. By the end of the day the boat was out of alcohol, including the three liter bag of shit wine* they had. It may have gotten a wee bit out of hand.

*That’s just how much the slow boat can warp your judgment.

Pak Beng, the layover town, gets pretty much the entirety of its income from tourists on the slow boat. After two months of no visitors, everyone was very happy to see us and even more eager to sell us stuff. I shared a cheap room and a delicious dinner with my comrades from Chiang Mai. Both the guesthouse and the restaurant gave us free shots of lao lao, a type of homemade whiskey. It tastes nothing like whiskey, more accurately described simply as alcohol. As in “rubbing” or “laboratory grade.” I actually don’t think it’s bad. Much easier to take than tequila, anyway.

The next day we got on a much roomier boat. It’s hard to describe how giddy twelve extra inches of floor space can make a person*. The rowdiness was also toned down due to a few key players having no-joke hangovers. Day two passed similar to day one in all other respects. I spent a portion of my free time turning my Replacement Hat into a Replacement Red Sox Hat. It greatly reduced my anxiety.

*That’s just how much the slow boat can warp your very sanity.

golden lion thingy says, "Raaawrrr, GO SOX!"

We landed in Luang Prabang at the end of day two and never looked back. I think most people managed to have a good time on the boat, but ask anyone to do it again and they’d laugh in your face. Ask them to tell you about it, though, and be prepared for an experience almost as long and boring as the real deal. Kind of like the one I just gave you.

So, um, yeeeeah, screw this thing

I’m a few days into Cambodia and now one whole country behind on the blog. That’s a scary way to say one week behind, which is actually about normal for me. There’s not much to do in Laos, it turns out.

The news for this post is that I decided I’ve had enough. I’ve been traveling nonstop for nine months now. In the time I’ve been away some lady could have gotten pregnant and given birth already. I thought a year would be no problem, but I’ve hit a bit of a wall. One human gestation period on the road seems to be plenty.

I’ve changed my ticket from Tokyo to leave from Phnom Penh in a few days for a much smaller extortion that I had expected. I’m flying into JFK where I will hop on a bus to Boston and sit around recuperating for the remainder of the spring and summer. If anyone wants to catch up and buy me food or a drink, I wouldn’t say no. See you all soon!

Budgeting for: Thailand

Thailand is an easy place to travel as well as an easy place to pinch pennies. I almost always found the cheap versions of things to be as enjoyable as the expensive versions. It may be the most touristy country in Southeast Asia, but one reason for that is that your money can go far. While I was there 1 dollar was 33 baht.

SLEEPING
Unlike Malaysia, Thailand doesn’t have a dorm culture. Instead of traditional hostels you’re more likely to get a room in a guesthouse. This can sometimes make it more expensive if you’re a solo traveler, although not always and not always by much. I aimed for $3-6 a night, either by myself or as my part of sharing. The nice, expensive place where Suzanne and I stayed on Ko Phi Phi was $12 each a night.

EATING
Eating on the street is safe, easy, and delicious. You can get a good meal in a market or from a food cart for as little as $.50. $5 can stuff you pretty good. One little known secret I luckily discovered early is the water vending machine which will fill up your bottle with one to two liters for a measly $.03. I used them all the time and even started to feel a little ripped off when I couldn’t find one. When you take a cooking class, and you will, it’s worth it to spring for a quality one. Mine cost $36 not including the optional expanded cookbook and was the most fun thing I did after diving.

GETTING AROUND
Small tuk-tuks are usually the most expensive way to get around a major city. The big pick-up truck ones are a much better deal and are sometimes the only or easiest way to get somewhere. The touristy ride in Bangkok was a whopping $3, but I’ve gotten rides from the bus station for $.60. Bangkok has a bus system that is worth the sub-dollar fares as well as trains that are not quite as cheap. In terms of distance travel, the ferry to Phi Phi was $9 one way, the crappy train out of Bangkok only ran me $.45, and most buses are in the $3-10 range.

DOING STUFF
My biggest activity expense by far was the dive course at $430 including the text book. I had thought it would be much cheaper than that, which is why I had decided to do it in Thailand, but I was still pleased with the experience. The highest class front row muay thai ticket cost $60, also worth it. Some of the more famous wats charge a small admission, the Grand Palace costing the most at $11. I saw all of Ayuthaya and Sukhothai for around $30 combined. Fifteen minutes at the fish spa cost $4.50 while the one hour massage was an average $4. Regular massages are a much better value, unless you’ve got a thing for fish.

BOTTOM LINE
In 24 days I spent $963.04, or $40/day. Say WHAT?!!? Not including the dive course that drops to $23/day. Ahh, that’s more like it. As usual, your mileage may vary.