A Joyous Hike, a “Cooking Class“ and Some Drama
24 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ⛅ 33 °C
In the very early morning, we went to an island that had a lookout point on its top.
Our guide told us it would take only 10 minutes to get there.
I’m pretty sure I actually climbed just under 10 minutes because I thought, climbing stairs, ok, let’s do this, no, you don’t need a break.
Spoiler alert: I would have needed one. Or a few. It was steep, the steps were large. 😁
I arrived at the top, my body fiercely protesting everything.
I collapsed on a bench and kept lying there, my circulation having a little hissy fit, being a wee bit mad at me.
I was unable to get up for the better part of an hour. While I did down a coconut water, that might have been way too fast and didn’t exactly alleviate the current condition of exhaustion.
Additionally, I should mention it was searingly hot and stiflingly humid at around 40 degrees.
I was lying there, trying to pull myself together.
At this point, I had given up trying to play it off as just chillaxing and asked the others from the tour to please have someone stay with me because I wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t actually sure how to make it down, let alone sit up.
Lem, one of the Brits, did stay with me, and eventually, I did make it down, though I was rather shaky, to say the least.
I would have loved a rest.
But nah. A quick shower, and we had a cooking class on the boat.
I thought, ah, well, I could have saved some money and not done the one on the previous day.
Turns out, all we did was make fresh spring rolls. Nothing else. lol 😁
You can neither accurately call that cooking nor a class.
We then had lunch and already had to disembark.
That was quick. 😁
The 3h bus ride back to Hanoi followed.
In the late afternoon/evening, our original group of 5 reunited in Hanoi and eventually went to the railway street together, waiting for the train, which came, but nowhere near when we were told (and looked up).
So, 3 of us had to leave before the train arrived.
Jian and I were left, meandering through the streets, eventually sharing a Grab back to our respective hostels.
Oh, almost forgot to mention this fun interlude: While on the balcony of a cafe at the Railway, we watched a Karenesque situation unfold right in front of us.
From what we could make out, a lady, the Karen in question, had sat down at a cafe and when others wanted to sit down around her, she refused, saying she’s reserving seats for her party of 6. People who weren’t there yet.
The argument escalated speedily and Karen exploded into a tirade of screaming in a high-pitched tone at the top of her lungs.
A waiter tried to touch her on the shoulder as a calming gesture, upon which she screamed, outraged that he “touched” her. What a circus. She kept screeching the same things over and over again.
The staff at first tried to calm people, but then just told her to leave. Not that she would listen.
An older Vietnamese lady from the staff then pulled out something I’ll just call a baby vuvuzela, which she blew in a staccato, moving closer to the Karen-crowd, shooing them away with that.
It was effective and actually quite hilarious to watch. Nice method!
…
A few hours later, I went for a shower in the en-suite bathroom of my dorm.
The shower and toilet are in two separate cabins, so the sink can still be used as a shared area, but the bathroom can be locked entirely as well. Which I did, since I spread out my stuff for a truly quick shower. Also, the hostel has several other toilets/showers not en-suite, on every floor.
Why I’m emphasising that? Well, while I was in the shower, suddenly someone tried to enter the bathroom and discovered: it was locked. So, logical response would be to wait OR use one of the other bathrooms, as any other person would have done.
Not option C, which this ferocious lady went for: knocking on the door continuously like a maniac with no sense whatsoever. The knocking was intense to start with and got increasingly brutal.
Since I was in the shower (and inconveniently had forgotten my towel on my bed anyway), I also wasn’t able to just open the door, plus I didn’t quite see a reason to, to be frank.
When I was done - I did check the watch and can confirm I took 5 minutes only, the knocking still ongoing, I did open the door and was faced with a lady who looked suddenly dumbstruck, who didn’t at all resemble the ferocious animal I had anticipated.
And instead of rushing to the loo, which I assumed she had wanted to do, she just turned back and rummaged through her stuff calmly and informed me that I wouldn’t have to lock the door.
True, I didn’t have to. But I did. Like others too and like intended for when you want to use the small bathroom while having your stuff in there.
Geez. Whatever fuelled her was NOT proportionate to the facts and the solutions readily at hand!
I went to bed, looking forward to the little sleep I could get until 2:55 am.
Another spoiler alert: It was 3.5 hours. 😁Leia mais
Ha Long Bay
23 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ☁️ 33 °C
As mentioned before, I wanted to go to one more destination in Vietnam before moving on.
Therefore, today I was on my way to a 2D1N cruise in Ha Long Bay.
Ha Long Bay - a few short facts
• “Hạ Long” means “Descending Dragon” in Vietnamese. Legend says dragons
descended from the sky to protect the area, creating the islands with their tails.
• about 1,969 islands (limestone karsts) in total.
• UNESCO World Heritage Site
5 people including me were on the 3h bus ride, though we picked up more people along the way. Whom we also - thankfully (!!!) - dropped off before we others went on the cruise.
The family in question was… pushing my limits of tolerance, putting it gently. My limits did throw in the towel after a brave - albeit short - fight and made way to indignation, frustration and anger.
One man was lying down in the back row - just behind where I was trying to make my noise-cancelling headphones a permanent part of me.
He started watching reels at full volume, had kicked off his slippers and positioned his naked, gross feet around my hypersensitive, neutral-odour loving head.
My pulse went through the roof. But, when making contact in such instances, my voice is sugary-sweet and soothing (like Dolores Umbridge) to get them to behave like a considerate human being. I kid, of course. That wouldn’t be entirely diplomatic. 😁
I did kindly ask the guy to please use headphones to listen to his videos.
Message received. And ignored.
Well, yeah.
Then another guy sat down in the row next to me, on the other side of the aisle.
The exact same case.
I was furious. I sat where I was for a reason: to have my peace and quiet. 😁
I truly question what is happening to humanity. When did consideration become a luxury that only a few people know about and even fewer practise? I’m truly exasperated here because I just don’t get it. Do people know about the Golden Rule? Or do they just have a higher tolerance for everyone’s staggering egotism?
Anyway…
Aboard the cruise, the 2 young Scots, Cian and Martha; Nicolas from Belgium and Jian from the Netherlands; and I got to know each other better and had lunch.
Our first stop of the day in the bay was Sung Sot Cave.
It’s a cave featuring 3 chambers, one bigger than the other, as well as a staggering amount of tourists.
Tourists who LOVED posing for photos. Which was problematic in the first chamber, the smallest of them. To get to the other chamber, there was a smaller tunnel to go through, wide enough for one person.
Not too much of a problem if people just walk through swiftly and do NOT stop in the middle of the entrance for their elaborate photo session with 10 different poses for each family member.
The guides yelled at the people not to stop and keep it moving – the whole cave was filled with people and more were coming by the second.
To no avail. Which again makes me ask: What the hell is wrong with people?
The third chamber was truly spacious and a great location for an extended stroll. It offered a great view towards the exit of the cave, sunlight mysteriously illuminating the stalactites and stalagmites surrounding it.
After the spelunking was done (phew!), we were headed back to the boat and went to a kayaking spot.
Nothing too fascinating there, apart from great views, a burning sun, a surprise cave and a LOT of trash swimming in the sea…
After the kayaking, we hopped into the water to cool down a bit. But I’m not sure how “healthy” that all was, considering what was swimming about 200m away from us…
From this activity on, we were joined by 10 more people on the cruise: 6 Aussies living up to every single stereotype, as well as 4 Brits. Two of the latter I enjoyed chatting with in particular.
In the evening, we had dinner on deck, witnessing the setting sun vanishing behind a cloud, a faint hue of red suggesting what could have been if the cloud had been a little, well, less. 😁
What followed was two drinking games in which I participated. With water. 😁
Before going to bed, we tried our hands at squid fishing.
However, not a single squid appeared at all. 😁
I finally turned in for the night, loving having my own cabin with en-suite bathroom.
I would have preferred to have more time on the boat just to stay in there.Leia mais
Vietnamese Cooking Class
22 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ☁️ 32 °C
Let’s catch up.
I got back from the Ha Giang Loop and was getting ready to fly out of Vietnam. And then I didn’t.
While there were lots of other places of interest, like Ninh Binh, Hoi An, Sapa, and Ha Long Bay in particular, I decided to settle for one more stop and move on then. For both monetary reasons and because of travel fatigue. To travel more. Just trust me. It makes sense. 😁
First, I had one full day in Hanoi at my disposal.
I decided to go for another cooking class, being particularly interested in pho - a bone broth made with a variety of spices, including cilantro seeds, aniseed, cinnamon, and a few more. It’s quite good!
Only 5 people had signed up for the class - but I liked a quieter atmosphere.
First, we prepared the pho soup, which tends to take quite a while as it has to simmer for at least 5 hours, sometimes even longer, for the ingredients to become richer.
Then a salad, spring rolls, and for dessert, egg coffee.
I kept the amount of coffee especially low - not being a coffee-drinker for most of the time.
The cook was positively delighted to see how happy I was spooning off the thick foam from the top and had a genius idea - all credit to her - to supply me with the mixing bowl with a decent portion of the whipped egg and condensed milk foam.
I adorably nibbled away on it like a savage. A happy savage.
After the cooking class had concluded, I was keen to explore a little more, always being full on adrenaline because of how dangerous a life you have as a pedestrian in Vietnam, considering you have to walk on the road and not the sidewalk. Why? Because the sidewalk is almost exclusively used as a parking space for motorbikes. I promise I’m not exaggerating.
While we’re on the topic of traffic, I recently talked to a guy who told me that there is an unwritten rule for drivers of any vehicle: you’re solely responsible for about a 45-degree angle of your vision straight in front of you. Mirrors? Purely decorative.
I don’t know this to be a fact, of course, but yes, from observation, this is spot on - in theory. Because the way they drive, they don’t really care about pedestrians in the slightest. Maybe the rule only applies to objects that could actually pose harm to their vehicles. Like a brick wall.
In the evening, I went to a random, very well-rated restaurant. Lots of those in Vietnam.
One look at the prices made me research it a little more. Aha! It was a Michelin-approved restaurant. And this one looked fancier than what I’d come to expect from the crammed, tiny, red-plastic-chair kind of places with Michelin approval. Still quite some room for improvement, I’d say, but it’s a great start.
I had a pumpkin soup - they seem to be moderately popular in Laos and Vietnam, I had them quite a lot.
Mostly, I love them because they taste like a warm hug.
This one was okay. While it was remarkably velvety, it seemed so smoothed out that it seemed to be sifted of some necessary spices to make it a tight, comforting hug and not a lacklustre greeting between acquaintances.
For dessert, I had yoghurt with black rice. The latter - meh. The yoghurt? Now, that was some good stuff. Perfectly balanced tartness and sweetness. I savoured every spoon.Leia mais
Ha Giang in a Nutshell
21 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ☁️ 30 °C
Sit back, relax, and enjoy the wee video montage that isn’t even awesome but took me 6 hours. 🙈😁
Third Day of the Ha Giang Loop
20 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ 🌧 32 °C
Today was the last day of the Ha Giang Loop.
When I sat down for breakfast, I was joined by a cat and its two kittens. Adorable! I tried to make friends with them, but they were very shy. And I think momma cat didn’t really like her children. Whenever they got remotely close to her, she hissed at them and they fled, startled. Poor things.
I did get one of the young ones to nibble on my toes, though. 😁
There was a waterfall close to the homestay, which is where we went first. And that’s when it started to rain.
A tiny hike and you can enjoy the scenery - of dozens and dozens of people blocking the view.
I didn’t enjoy myself at all. Especially when I noticed that my camera’s battery was empty and I couldn’t take a photo of the waterfall.
I grabbed my bag, wanting to leave, trying to spot my driver. Who was nowhere to be found.
I thought, okay, maybe he went back to the bike. So I went there to find it empty. The downpour increased in intensity at that point. I was soaked. For whatever reason, I had not gone for the protective gear of trash bags because it was so close by and we were going to go back to the homestay to grab the rest of our stuff.
I contacted the company to let my driver know I had gone back to the bike, since I didn’t have his contact.
Eventually, a few minutes later, he appeared.
I don’t know where he went (usually, he sits down with the other drivers and watches stuff on his phone), but he wasn’t happy I had contacted someone about this.
Again, I’m divided here. It wasn’t a biggie to me, but I needed to let him know where I was. But I also didn’t want to get him into trouble, as he stated he now would be. 😬
We went back to the homestay for a few minutes - and put on our trendy trash bags.
There, I found a third kitten. We instantly hit it off!
We played and cuddled for a bit and the kitty followed me everywhere. Yes, also to the toilet. 😁
I then put on my first backpack, grabbed my second one in my left arm, held my two water bottles in my left hand, and cradled the kitty in my right arm.
I went through the cafe like that, people looking bemused, faced my driver and said “I’m ready!”
There was quite some giggling in the room. 😁
Ah, man, I already miss the little kitten.
Today, we didn’t really have a stop. It was still pouring and visibility was really low at times, so we just kept driving.
We did spot two snakes, by the way - one today and one yesterday.
After a few hours, we reached the homestay in Ha Giang again.
We had a little pit stop there and continued to lunch and then to a cafe on a hill, offering scenic views of Ha Giang City.
I did offer my driver a drink, which he accepted.
I asked him what he would like and he didn’t really say much, so I suggested “coffee?” and he said yes.
He got his coffee and looked grim. No thank you whatsoever.
I was confused.
He did drink it, though I came to suspect that he maybe didn’t like coffee at all and only said yes to be polite - or because he didn’t understand the question.
It was an odd situation in any case.
And that concluded my three-day, two-night motorbike tour through the Ha Giang Loop.
Now I can proudly wear my commemorative T-shirt! 😁
In conclusion: nature in the north of Vietnam is amazing! Especially the fog added a lovely mystique and made it exciting whether you were going to see anything at all. If you did, it made the awe more intense.
Also, when you first see nothing - only white - and then, slowly, a huge peak appears in the distance, and another, bit by bit - that was mesmerising.
Communication with the driver and day-by-day navigation of situations was difficult and therefore quite lonely.
Riding on the bike hurts your butt fiercely after one hour. That’s just something you have to deal with somehow.
The quality of the roads was mainly fine, but a few hours were pretty bumpy and filled with obstacles like rocks, animals, remnants of landslides, rivulets, or just terrible gravel roads.
My biggest issue was probably the dirt particles that pelted your face and were absorbed by your lungs while driving. My airways still do not feel happy. And my face was permanently covered in a layer of dirt and exhaust fumes.
While I did wear a helmet, the visor only covered the eyes and nose - and still, the wind made everything circulate over the entirety of my face anyway.
But, all in all, definitely a highlight and I strongly recommend it. Though I think it would be even better to ride the bike yourself. I admit, my interest in doing that is piqued.Leia mais
Second Day of the Ha Giang Loop
19 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ 🌧 24 °C
I was still really tired in the early morning!
A sorry breakfast of two eggs and four slices of cucumber and tomato later, we hopped back on the bike.
Yesterday, my butt was starting to hurt something fierce. Today it was gonna get worse - and my knees, my back, and, just to complete the picture, my feet weren’t happy either. 😁
We went to a few lookout spots. Today the views were absolutely stunning! Ridiculously beautiful!
Though at first, we were in the middle of a cloud and couldn’t see anything. But slowly it was clearing up here and there, and a few mountain tops peeked through.
Just wow. Those moments when you grasp the very best of what nature has to offer, hit deep.
The last stop before the new homestay for the night was another viewpoint (with a cafe where I had my favourite matcha to date!), where I met a few of the others from the previous night. I was happy about our little encounter and we had all hoped that would mean we’d be staying at the same place again tonight.
Spoiler alert: we didn’t.
Instead, I’m staying in a dorm of 16 beds with two people. I’m one of them. The other is my driver.
I’m not comfortable with that set-up.
Especially confusing, since the company explicitly mentioned that I would not be sharing accommodation with the driver.
The amount of times I’ve learned not to rely on or trust people is, sadly, staggering.
And on a final note: the bathroom gets a 5/10 on the grossness scale. Could be cleaner, could be worse - however, it features an impressive range of the entirety of what the olfactory spectrum of ammonia has to offer.Leia mais
First Day of the Ha Giang Loop
18 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ 🌧 22 °C
In the morning, I walked down for breakfast (noodles - ah, I’m not getting used to that so early in the morning. I miss my avocado/egg sourdough).
Then I signed a waiver for the tour - which was basically two pages telling you that riding on a motorbike comes with an inherent risk, that there’s lots to go wrong, not even pertaining to the vehicle. They even mentioned possible animal attacks. 😁
They’re boilerplate, those things, but they never instil you with a modicum of faith.
But! My host brought me a free T-shirt saying I completed the loop and that made me so happy, I stopped worrying. 😁
Of course, I can’t yet wear it, having not even started the activity. 😁
My driver arrived by then and together, he and my host started dressing me. 😁
They started with protectors for knees and elbows. Since it was pouring outside, they also put several layers of plastic bags on me and my backpack. All I had to do was sit there and stretch out my limbs. 😁
Then I got the helmet and hopped on the bike. My host was so happy sending me off, she even took pictures of me the whole time for posterity. It was really precious, actually. 😁
The bike was surprisingly small - hard to believe it was going to carry two people plus three backpacks. The driver’s in the front, mine strapped to the back, and my drybag on my shoulders (the downside: it’s rather uncomfortable).
I was also puzzled by the bike only having one single mirror. Is that normal? Is the second one optional? As many times as the people here engage in risky overtaking manoeuvres, they should have more than six mirrors…
While my driver seems nice, he does occasionally drive one-handed because the other hand is texting someone on his phone or taking phone calls on the bike.
Also, I specifically booked an English tour and if you remember, the company’s reasoning for having a male driver is because they speak English. (And because they are better drivers than women, according to them…). I even signed the waiver/contract which listed an English-speaking driver as a service I had booked.
Now, guess which language my driver doesn’t speak. I dare you.
Yes. Correct. He doesn’t speak Spanish. I was fine with that. But not with him not knowing English.
He was supposed to be a guide and tell me about things. Forget about it! The very, very few words he did know, he often mispronounced entirely. Understanding him is incredibly hard - especially with some Auditory Processing Disorder in the mix.
It’s frankly exhausting.
I was also the only person to book that tour, so there’s no one else around.
It gets quite lonely.
There’s plenty of others doing the loop - driving past you or having a rest at one of the countless roadside cafes. But you don’t generally talk to them.
At every stop, I usually took photos and was ready to leave again. Enjoying the scenery is all good, but not with a crowd of noisy tourists nearby and my beloved smokers.
Whenever we stopped for something, I was never told why.
For the scenery? To take photos? To get a drink? Would we be having lunch? Or to explore the area?
The “guide” just always looked at me expectantly. That actually got rather annoying.
We went to a weathered remnant of a castle and again, I was just looked at.
Apparently, my driver expected me to go and look at it by myself. Contractually, I was supposed to be given a tour. But who cares.
I looked around and was ready to leave again - I’m generally not a fan of just looking at buildings or going to museums.
My “guide” found that odd. 😁
Also, while there were information boards at the castle, all of them were in Vietnamese - which I don’t speak. Hence the idea of having a guide.
We eventually arrived at the hostel for the night, where I was put in a dorm with three other people on a similar tour.
I befriended them and we made our way downstairs to have dinner.
We were told by the staff to sit down at the main table - already featuring a buffet.
Soon, my driver arrived and waved at me, looking like he wanted to say something. I was confused and waved back. He left.
Then he reappeared. He said (in very broken English) not to sit down with the others - why would I do that? And did I not understand that he was waving me over to talk?
He was literally waving at me (oddly, granted, but I’ve seen people wave like that).
It appears that beckoning someone over has a different gesture in Vietnam. There, it’s done with the hand facing down - the opposite of what we do in the West. So what looked like a wave to me was actually “come here.”
I was utterly confused.
He used Google Translate to explain that I would have to eat with him and the others would eat with their tour guides.
It kept being lonely.
After dinner, the others asked me to join their card game, which I gladly accepted.
There was a kerfuffle about everyone’s different rules for the same game (people seemed mortally offended when one rule was collectively voted against 😁).
But it was a fun interlude.
Being all very tired and exhausted from the day, we went to bed.Leia mais
Going to Ha Giang
17 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ☁️ 30 °C
I kept hearing about the famous Ha Giang Loop from fellow travellers, which is how I decided to check it out for myself.
After the delay in contacting me, things are working out so far, luckily.
I took a Grab to an alleged bus stop in Hanoi, which was actually the office of the bus company. Apart from a few other people sitting in there, no staff was around for 15 minutes.
After a while they appeared and checked our names off a list.
Then we finally entered the bus. It was a sleeper bus with cabins - like a capsule hostel on wheels.
Upon entering, I was carrying a bag with the free “breakfast” my hostel had supplied me with for three days - which I had always skipped because I wasn’t big on a bag of deep-fried nuts and a dry pastry for breakfast.
The bus driver said no, I was not allowed to board with that. I was a little puzzled. This was a 6-hour bus ride and you can’t bring a snack? I kept checking to make sure this wasn’t a case of miscommunication. But it was getting crystal clear. I had to leave my snacks at the front of the bus.
I wasn’t actually on board with that. I had hardly eaten anything in the past few days and I wasn’t going to go without food for another 6 hours.
I snuck back to my bag under the pretense of getting a drink from there. (I was stopped immediately and told to drink outside - it was getting ridiculous. Since when can’t you drink? We weren’t even driving yet!)
So I drank outside and slipped a bag of nuts into my pocket.
I felt so devious. 😁
While the bus wasn’t too big on hygiene, being able to lie down during a bus ride - bliss!
Initially, I tried to edit and write for a bit, but quickly learned it was kinder on my stomach to just lie back and nap.
After about three hours, we had a pit stop where we were indeed allowed to buy snacks. All highly processed stuff - so I wasn’t into that either. While the others were busy shopping, I snuck back to my bag at the front and clandestinely exchanged the bags of food with trash so it wouldn’t look out of order.
It worked. I took my scavenged snacks back into my cabin and closed the curtain. Mischief Managed.
Now, the maddening part: all the other passengers had gotten their own snacks from the shop - bags of crisps, cookies and whatnot. They ate it out in the open on the bus and sipped from their cans of soda.
Nobody batted an eye. I was outraged.
And slept some more.
Eventually, I was dropped at my homestay in Ha Giang - a private house that turned the upper floors into private rooms and a dorm, newly renovated.
I was the only guest - I loved it there!
The dorm was comfortable, modern, and had privacy curtains.
Plus, the lady who owns the place with her husband was very kind and talkative. This was one of the rare instances where someone was happy to chat and spoke some English.
She recommended a restaurant to me where you could order a dish that let you make your own fresh spring rolls/summer rolls.
I started with the first one and then just gave up and downed the ingredients separately. 😁
I was surprised how tired I was at the end of the day - considering I spent most of it sleeping. 😁Leia mais
Organising
16 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ☁️ 32 °C
First order of business: get that iced egg coffee!
It was fine. But way too much coffee. And damn, the caffeine hit hard. I was so hyperactive suddenly with nowhere to put it. I was thrilled when the effects wore off. Slooooowly.
I was still waiting for the tour company to contact me via WhatsApp, as promised - but then I just did it myself. Luckily, I found their WhatsApp contact online.
I finally got some information. To be fair, I kept asking questions. That’s not the way this is supposed to work. They’re supposed to supply you with all the necessary info unasked.
I’m hoping this was a snafu - considering they’ve already got a deposit…
I enquired about the number of people who had signed up for the tour.
I am the only one…
That made me rather uneasy and I asked if there was a chance to get a female tour guide.
Well. While they have a female driver, I was told she’s not a tour guide and doesn’t speak English. Well, ok.
But then they followed it up by saying that males are better drivers than females anyway.
Whoa. Interesting thing to say.
I called them out and said, yeah, that’s sexist, isn’t it?
They called it a misunderstanding and apologized.
They doubled down and said, well, the nature of the road requires a male driver.
I left it at that…
Apart from my familiar hunt for postcards and stamps, I didn’t do too much today. I’m amazed again and again how inefficient the process of acquiring and sending postcards is. Arbitrary opening times of post offices that don’t match the info on Google Maps, the utterly scarce presence of mailboxes, and finding a decent enough postcard in the first place. It’s a science. Or maybe I’m just making it really complicated. Though those of you getting a postcard from Laos IF they ever arrive - they are nothing to write home about. I’ll leave you with this wonderful paradox.
Noteworthy mention: I did come across a place that creates stamps with your face and name. Intrigued, I went for it.
Let me say this: They got my name right. My face very much not. I look like a Chinese man! I’m outraged. 😁Leia mais
More Exploring in Hanoi
15 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ☁️ 35 °C
After the tour ended at around 11.30am, there was still plenty of time in the day. Odd, because it felt like late afternoon.
It’s so hot - I know I keep saying that about every place, but it really is.
Therefore, after walking through town for 2.5 hours, everyone was rather exhausted.
However, there was much more to explore!
For example, the Always Cafe. That’s a little Harry Potter themed cafe I was keen to check out.
I was joined by Alessandro from Italy. He was the fourth person in the tour.
The cafe was cute, but the design was a rather cheap imitation of what could look realistic with more effort/money.
I turned the menu to page 394 and ordered some Polyjuice Potion. (FYI, page 394 is a HP reference - the menu was not that extensive. If you got that, congratulations, I think you’re the only one. I’m pretty much amusing myself at this point. 😁)
The Polyjuice Potion in question was a strawberry-based, fruity drink that was yummy but not worth the price. Naturally. 😁
We also both ordered an egg tart. Which took ages. I jokingly said, ha, they must be making them fresh!
A few minutes later, the waitress came over and apologized for the long wait and said they’re making them fresh. 😁
While certainly nice, it was not worth the long wait!
Still rather hungry, Alessandro and I went to a Michelin restaurant in the general area.
Now, there’s quite a few Michelin restaurants in Southeast Asia. A lot of them are not what you’d think. In fact, the one we went to looked just like another tiny, crammed kitchen bordering on the unhygienic, featuring tiny red plastic chairs and a whiff of exhaust fumes and cigarette smoke with waitresses sitting next to you, watching reels on their phones when not busy.
So please don’t think of it as glamorous.
The food, however, was good.
We both ordered Pho Soup with crab spring rolls. They brought out huge plates of pho noodles, green herbs/lettuce, a bowl of chopped garlic and chilli, and smaller plates with the crab spring rolls. I was full fast.
The pho soup was noteworthy. Perfectly flavoured! Notes of aniseed and clove so subtly present in that savoury soup that you’d never consider using those spices for anything sweet.
I added three tiny bits of chilli to my self-assembly soup and left one of them, since it was decently spicy already. How Alessandro confidently added several spoonfuls of chilli and only towards the end said, yeah, it’s getting a bit too spicy - no clue. 😁
We kept exploring, walked to a temple - nothing special for me like usually - but we did witness something quite illegal.
There are a few vendors there selling live fish in plastic bottles.
One of those lady vendors was crouching over a plastic box, glancing around surreptitiously, hurriedly telling people off who wanted to take photos of what she wanted to sell: Live Baby Turtles, trying to swim in that tiny plastic box, not succeeding and trying and failing to crawl out.
She also had a buyer who bought five or six of them.
The poor things! They were gonna end up as food…
That made me angry for sure. We stood there for a while, pondering options.
Buying and selling turtles in Vietnam is highly illegal because:
1. Most turtle species are endangered - Vietnam has lost 90% of its turtle population in 30 years
2. Protected under Vietnamese law - Law on Forestry Protection and Development (2008)
3. Protected under international treaties - CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species)
4. Cultural significance - Turtles are sacred in Vietnamese culture (one of the 4 sacred animals)
5. Ecological importance - Turtles control fish populations and maintain water quality
The buyer probably wanted them for food (turtle meat is considered an aphrodisiac), traditional medicine, or pets - all illegal.
You can’t keep them as pets either (though I was very tempted to have five new travel companions…)
I also considered just grabbing the box and setting them free.
We ended up walking away. But I kept thinking about the cute little turtles, still unsure what would have been the right course of action.
There was a little more exploring, but slowly, the day was coming to an end.
And I was in dire need of a shower.
There was one more order of business, however. Alessandro and I said goodbye, and I was gonna give the egg coffee a go.
After a day of dehydration, I was looking forward to an iced drink. I thought if it was so popular, even compared to tiramisu (Italian Alessandro found that highly debatable), I felt like I had to give it a shot. Plus, I thought I was so tired too early in the evening - a coffee would be fine.
I went to a tiny cafe close to my hostel. I regretted that immediately. That place reeked of thick cigarette smoke. At least I ordered my iced egg coffee to go.
I finally got it and - it was hot.
I was ready to down a cold drink, I was so thirsty!
I took it pretty well, though. I spooned off the foam, took a sip of the way too hot and bitter coffee, and threw it into the nearest bin with gusto!
And that was my day. Hot, dehydration, headache, too much money lost in tips, constant noise from the street, too many people bustling about, lots of them trying to get your attention, not accepting multiple nos - and then the disappointing drink. My hypersensitivity was on overdrive.
Time for bed. 😁Leia mais
Hanoi - Walking Tour
15 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ☁️ 34 °C
Today I was multitasking.
Firstly, I was waiting for a response from a company I had contacted about a motorbike ride/tour on the Ha Giang Loop. They had promised to contact me within 24 hours of booking. Those hours came and went. Ah, great. Stuff like that makes me rather restless and worries me constantly.
Secondly, I went for another of those free walking tours with only three other people and our guide, William from Vietnam. William was a kind, soft-spoken guy with three jobs: tour guide during the day, swimming instructor in the afternoon, and English teacher at night.
We met at the Statue of the Fallen Heroes and were told about the significance of the statue and the meaning of the object the soldier in the middle is holding.
It’s a lunge anti-tank mine - a suicide device used by Vietnamese resistance fighters against French tanks in 1946. The soldier would sprint toward an enemy armored vehicle, press the mine against it, and the three prongs would detonate it. The operator would perish during the assault. It’s meant to symbolise sacrifice for the nation’s survival.
We also went to a lake adjacent to the statue that had a popular myth attached to it:
The story is about Le Loi, a Vietnamese king who defeated Chinese invaders in the 15th century. Before the war, a golden turtle surfaced from Hoan Kiem Lake and gave Le Loi a magical sword forged by heavenly dragons. Le Loi used it to defeat the Chinese.
After the war, the same turtle reappeared and demanded the sword back. Le Loi returned it, and the turtle carried it underwater.
Symbolism:
• The sword = war and resistance (given when needed)
• Returning it = peace restored (war no longer needed)
• The turtle = Vietnam’s sovereignty (gives power, takes it back)
The lake is called Hoan Kiem Lake (“Lake of the Restored Sword”) because of this return. It’s one of Vietnam’s most important national myths.
Two of our group were Americans. So our guide was extra careful when talking about wars, since the history between Vietnam and America is troubled…
He kept emphasising that the Vietnamese perspective might not be the same as the American, but this is what went down:
The American view focuses on Vietnam as part of the Cold War containment strategy - stopping communism in Southeast Asia. The Vietnamese view frames it as a war of independence and liberation, first against French colonialism, then against American intervention. What Americans call “the Vietnam War,” Vietnamese call “the American War.”
After a bit of history, we went through the coffee street of Hanoi. (There’s lots of dedicated streets here: coffee street, beer street, street food street.)
Vietnam is famous for a few particular coffees: Coconut coffee, salt coffee, and egg coffee.
The latter was the one we were about to drink at Cafe Giang, where it was invented.
Now, egg and coffee sounds odd, doesn’t it?
It’s pretty good, though.
You get a bit of coffee topped with a thick cream - whipped egg + sugar, like a zabaglione. That alone is yummy. Mix it with coffee and you got yourself a pretty delicious drink.
Now, I am not a huge fan of coffee. Luckily, they have the same with matcha. I enjoyed that loads!
Apparently, the reason for its invention is this: back in the day, milk would spoil too fast and they couldn’t use it for coffee reliably. So they needed a substitute and came up with this creation.
We also went to a really crowded market, where you can find everything - if you believe our tour guide.
The market itself made me claustrophobic just by looking at it, so I was glad when we left again.
William told us about traffic rules in Vietnam and effectively said: crossing roads is anything but fun. If you wanna stand a chance, make eye contact with the drivers and hold out your hand, palm facing down. They might just allow you to pass between them, they’ll go around you. (Like in Malaysia, only there you hold your palm up to face the drivers.)
However, he specifically mentioned that there are both older people and people with good insurance who absolutely don’t care if they hit you or not. He said they’d have a more pleasant time in jail than at home regarding the amenities.
Apparently, humanity isn’t a good enough reason not to roll someone over.
I don’t know how accurate William’s account was, but based on my experience here, yeah, I can easily imagine.
Eventually, we did go to the Railway - but a different spot than the famous one. It was picturesque there, I must say!
William also mentioned the famous Railway Street that every tourist - me included - goes to. He said that the whole thing is pretty much not legal, but that it is so popular, they keep it going. Occasionally, the police will conduct checks and fine shop owners for operating, but they’ll get the money for the fine back in one night anyway and don’t mind too much.
He guessed it would be different if someone got seriously injured or killed there, though…
The railway was also where the tour ended.
Now we get to a part that still bothers me.
Free walking tours are per definition free. But it is customary to give a tip.
Our guide talked about tips quite a bit during the tour. How some people give as little as 5 US dollars and how he then wonders what he did wrong.
While I was trying to sort through my notes (a lot of them look quite similar, like the 100,000 Dong bill and the 10,000 Dong bill), William commented while watching me how it is always just really convenient to keep the smaller bills available and not give them away, and lots of other tidbits about money.
I really could have done without the audiocommentary. I felt pressured, to say the least. I ended up giving him the 500,000 Dong note, which he took without hesitation, naturally. That is about 16 Euros. 😁
For reference, the others gave about 200,000 Dong. Which is reasonable and what I had wanted to do, had I had enough smaller notes.
But 500,000 was not what I thought the tour was worth. While it was better than the one in Bangkok, it was nowhere near as good as the ones in Kuala Lumpur/Penang.
William continued to say how he’s imploring us to give him a 5-star review regardless of what we thought about the tour. His reasoning was that his boss recently yelled at him for 5 days when he got a 4-star review once.
He said to write whatever we want, but to give those 5 stars.
Sorry, but that’s not how this works…
I have yet to think about what/if to review.Leia mais
Hanoi
14 de junho, Vietnã ⋅ ☁️ 36 °C
I’ve so been looking forward to today: Moving on.
I’m always a little wary when online check-in isn’t possible or causes issues - but at least Laos Airlines was upfront and said there’s no available online check-in for international flights.
But all went well.
Let’s disregard the very sad meal I had at the airport, served on a cheap tray with extra microplastic for that special flavour, served by a guy definitely not interested in kindness. Or eye contact. Or words…
One hour of flying later, and I landed in Hanoi, Vietnam.
Definitely better than Laos. It has more to offer, more to explore. There is more of a balance of cute little shops/cafés and run-down buildings, and there‘s more green in every street.
But! Traffic is intense. Both regarding your chances of making it across the street alive and the sheer amount of exhaust fumes in the air. It’s so much, my airways are constantly irritated. I can see why you’d wanna wear a mask just as soon as you leave a building here. Very few people do, from what I’ve seen.
With the intense traffic, there’s also an auditory component. The motors are earsplitting. Not only that, every road user must be a proud owner of a certificate declaring them officially impatient beyond measure. People drive without regard for anyone and honk immediately, relentlessly, as soon as there might be an obstacle. Emphasis on ‘might’.
That also rarely extends to pedestrians. I think they’re accepted as collateral damage, too soft and squishy to have a lasting impact on the cars/bikes.
Traffic in Southeast Asia is not really interested in efficient road usage and/or rules, but I feel it’s a little extra here. Traffic lights only seem to be a vague suggestion. There’s not a single situation where pedestrians are protected or favoured in traffic.
Luckily, I didn’t have to walk too far to get to my only proper thing to do today - considering I arrived in the late afternoon.
I went to the famous railway in Hanoi - my hostel being one road away from it.
It was crowded!
Not that I expected anything else.
The Railway is famous because the train passes so incredibly close to all the little cafes and restaurants there on a narrow train track surrounded by buildings on either side.
I took a seat in one of the tiny alcoves with chairs comfortable for toddlers, and was immediately shooed out in favour of a larger party wanting to sit there. I was told to sit on the opposite side of the road instead, but I was not happy with the way that went down and sat down next door. With their competition. Ha! 1:0 for pettiness. 😄
I mean, the trade-off didn’t get me much else. I still had an overly expensive dinner (still cheaper than outside of SEA) in the middle of tourist-central…
Then the train came. A bell announced its arrival. Shop owners gestured at the tourists still on the track - which is where you just have to walk because there’s no other option - apart from the little alcoves where you have to buy a drink or food.
Of course, there’s always tourists who are not at all in a hurry and trod on insouciantly, dumbly, leisurely and then suddenly notice, oops, the train is coming, crap, quickly, where do I go if I don’t wanna be crushed? …
Then, of course, everyone wants to film the incoming train. Everyone wants to get the best footage. Everyone is absolutely, ruthlessly in the way of all the others.
There would absolutely be a solution if people didn’t consider themselves the single most important protagonists within a 500m radius.
While it was fun to watch the train pass by and wave at the people on the inside, the people on the outside ruined it for me. The constant being in the way and, of course, my all-time favourite - smokers - infuriated me too much.
Instead, I just tried to catch up on editing pics and writing blog in my blissfully round-the-clock air-conditioned hostel. 😌”Leia mais
Vientiane and “Saving Face“
13 de junho, Laos ⋅ ☁️ 31 °C
Slow day, today, and I was absolutely fine with that.
In the morning, I decided to check out of the hostel one night early due to the abysmal state of the accommodation.
Normally, this might not be a pleasant exchange, but a fairly straightforward one. I’ve done it before.
However, I’ve become aware of a phenomenon that I had noticed before but wasn’t able to put into words until now: saving face.
Saving face describes behaviour that is defined by trying your best to uphold the pretense of being infallible when you’re at risk of being regarded as being in the wrong or having made a mistake - and are confronted with that.
So, assume someone asks you for directions to the post office. You don’t know the answer.
Most likely, you’re going to do one of two things, or even both:
- You’re going to say, “Sorry, but I don’t know / can’t help,” and move on.
- You get out your phone, open Google Maps, try to find the directions to the post office, and tell the person about it.
In contrast to that, a person in Laos would do this:
They’d look at you abashedly, smile shyly, and then either stay transfixed in that state OR give you half-hearted directions to somewhere random that will not lead you to the post office.
Those bashful smiles and lack of answers admittedly drove me nuts. Because instead of getting an answer that gives you clarity or that might help you, you’re caught in a weird, awkward situation which will not end productively.
Case in point: a few days ago, when I was out looking for a new luggage scale.
I had found one and asked the cashier about whether the batteries were included or not, since I couldn’t tell (nothing on the package was in English).
She looked at it and just stared at me, smiled, shook her head slightly, shrugged her arms a little.
Yes, there is a language barrier. BUT, Google Translate takes that away - to some extent.
The reaction was still the same.
I kept wondering why no one ever said, “I don’t know, sorry,” or why they weren’t proactive about finding something out.
Instead, they are rendered motionless, almost, caught in that embarrassment, unable to get out of it, relying on you to play things down, to leave, or anything else that “eases” their burden that you “inflicted”.
Saving face has deep cultural roots in Laos (also in South Korea and Japan, but we’ll get back to that later).
Lao people put strong emphasis on social harmony. They don’t allow mistakes or criticism to get in the way of that.
For example, if a Laotian were criticised at a workplace, there’s a high chance they’d quit - out of embarrassment.
That’s what they want to avoid by being extremely careful about criticising someone. They’d rather give subtle hints if it can’t be helped, or if it’s very urgent, they’ll use a middleman to relay a message so the work relationship between two people isn’t disturbed.
Admitting wrongdoing, talking loudly, losing composure is seen as a failure - losing face. People who do that suffer severe social consequences. They’ll be gossiped about, glanced at judgily, excluded.
Therefore, if the slightest chance occurs that a conflict may arise because of their wrongdoing, they automatically enter into a freeze response as a survival mechanism because the social toll is so high for them.
Having figured this out explained quite a few situations in retrospect.
It’s something I wished I had known before I came to Laos.
I’m currently in a state where travel fatigue hits hard - adapting to different people, customs, languages, entry requirements, methods of transportation, etc.
It’s wearisome at the moment.
So, when stuff goes south - as it does sometimes - it’s just nice to resolve issues efficiently and to move on.
However, with saving face on the radar, this is just a really unnecessary, large obstacle.
Not only is there no logic to it, but it puts you in a weird situation where you have to accommodate someone else, even though they are responsible for an issue.
When I went ziplining and my harness was too small, which I mentioned straightforwardly? Apparently, that was wrong. And that was why the tour guide got angry.
I was kind about it. No reason not to be. I mean, it really isn’t a big deal to me when that happens; it’s easy to fix.
However, by mentioning that, I “exposed my guide’s mistake/incompetence” in front of his colleagues.
Sorry, but that’s just wild. Especially considering that this is an activity that has an inherent risk of injury/accident.
That made me think: What about the medical sector? Dealing with patients, treatments, different options, etc.? That’s got to be a minefield for “saving face”.
I looked into it, and yes, it’s problematic. Doctors can make mistakes, but people will be incredibly careful to leave the doctor’s dignity unquestioned. Patients who need consultations will avoid asking questions and often end up not understanding procedures/prospects, etc.
As mentioned before, Japan and South Korea have the face-saving phenomenon as well. However, they have high standards and operate within the frames of guidelines, progress, and meritocracy. They also highly value education.
An aside: literacy in Laos is at 88%, which is yet another obstacle in communication. Add to that nepotism as a reason to hire someone, not merit, experience, or qualifications (at least in the tourism sectors where I could witness it) - that makes efficiency take a hard hit.
That was a long excursion.
Let’s get back to the beginning.
I needed to cite the reason for the hostel being in a dissatisfactory state that didn’t align with my comfort.
I consulted AI as to how to approach this properly. It said to use Google Translate and go through my points in little snippets, bit by bit, using very simple language and describing more than normally necessary for Western standards. Furthermore, I needed to play down the issue at hand to a small problem I had. And then pretty much lie my ass off:
“Excuse me. I’m sorry to bother you. I have a little problem.”
“I’m having allergies that are triggered in this environment.”
“That’s why I cannot stay here for another night, unfortunately.”
“Would it be possible to please receive a refund for the unused night?”
I went with the script. It worked so far. No losing face.
However, they said “no” to the refund.
“In this case, I will need to contact the customer service of my booking platform and explain the situation to them with some photos I took. Maybe we can work it out before I do that?”
Suddenly, the reception lady was a little more receptive.
She offered me another accommodation under the same brand name. I researched it, and the reviews showed the exact same issue.
“Thank you, I appreciate your suggestion. I think, however, that my allergies will still be triggered in that environment.”
She suggested then to talk to her boss, which I declined kindly, stating that bypassing that by talking to the customer service would be more convenient.
So, there we have it. It worked (alternatively, AI suggested stating I got bad news as a reason to check out early…). I got to check out and went to another hostel (I’m happy with that choice).
I will mention, though, that I had to talk to Agoda for 1.5 hours and received abysmal “service” from their side (ultimately, it was indeed resolved).
In conclusion (about time), I cannot condone the practice that is saving face.
I’m aware it’s a cultural norm they grew up with, for generations, and that the repercussions for them are very real.
Yet, it’s an absolute pain and a hindrance to make it work, and it thoroughly frustrates me. You just can’t rely on anyone because of that, and it makes people seem inherently inauthentic and insincere.
I think this has negatively impacted my impression of Laos altogether. It’s become the biggest daily struggle when I had to rely on other people’s help to some extent. While I understand the concept and situations better now, I simply don’t subscribe to it.
Laos is a country I was still glad to visit. It enriched my experience and the volume of my backpack with regards to travel goodies.
My favourite parts were, for one, the river cruise, which I’ve loved a lot - a travel highlight for sure.
And secondly, Luang Prabang was a pleasant surprise as well, with its night market and countless talented locals and their displays of art, handcraft, or other products.
Lastly, the overall raw, mountainous, lush and green nature, as well as a place lesser frequented by tourists, are definite positives!Leia mais
Leaving Vang Vieng
12 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 26 °C
I was looking forward to moving on to another city in Laos today: Vientiane, the capital.
In the morning, at 9.20am, I went downstairs to the kitchen and asked if the free breakfast was still being served — no one had informed me of the breakfast times previously.
What I got back from the lady was a direct and, frankly, quite rude, “NO!”
I was put off by that reaction and didn’t know what to make of it. Why on earth did she react that way?
I said, “Wow, cool, thanks for letting me know,” and left.
No breakfast, then.
Even though I still had 2.5 hours before the departure of my train, I went to hail a tuktuk from the street. I had had enough of that hostel.
The tuktuk driver and I agreed on a price of 60,000 Kip.
Once arrived at the railway station, he only gave me 35,000 Kip change and tried to tell me he doesn’t have any more change. Which would have been considerably more credible, hadn’t he taken the 35k change out of a big wad of cash with plenty more notes.
He kept shrugging and gesturing sheepishly, smiling, hoping for me to just go with it.
Yeah, great. What choice did I have?
I initially said, “No, that’s not the correct amount. There’s 5k Kip missing.”
But more broken-English explanations that were neither coherent nor logical followed.
I think he tried to convince me he had to pay an entry fee at the station to drive in.
However, he bypassed that entirely and didn’t even enter the section. He dropped me off in the grass next to a large ditch over which I had to jump with my 30+ kg of luggage.
I kept explaining, but I wasn’t really getting anywhere in that situation.
I told him if there really was an extra fee, he would have known about this (he either drives people to the airport or the train station every day), and he should have informed me. What he’s doing is not okay. I left in a huff.
The hostel staff had mentioned that, yes, I’d be able to buy snacks at the train station.
Guess what I wasn’t able to buy? Yep. There was nothing there. Only a bit of cake and some daifuku (basically mochi). I wasn’t even in the mood for it (what is happening? 😮), but thought, meh, at least something. But it wasn’t edible… So, yeah.
This time, I had a first-class ticket and was looking forward to the train ride.
Until I entered the compartment and noticed I was surrounded by toddlers and babies.
Nuts.
I promptly put on my uniform of noise-cancelling headphones and a face mask. And occasionally doused myself in disinfectant because a waddling, incoherent creature thought it fit to touch me with snotty, dripping fingers — and the parents were entirely on board with that.
I was NOT in a good mood.
My mood dropped further when I checked into my new hostel. I thought the last one was run-down. But this one? Yuck.
It had really good reviews, however! How? I can tell you. They give out a free beer for every 5-star review… The hostel deserves 1. Because that’s the minimum you have to give…
In the evening, I explored the Night Market and the Food Night Market, where I tried a new dish: rose tteokbokki — a creamy, Italian-inspired Korean street food with rice cakes as a thick pasta substitute. I was told it wouldn’t be spicy. It was.Leia mais
Sunset by the River
11 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 26 °C
Vang Vieng isn’t really big - most commonly known for its hot air balloons, which were decidedly too expensive for me, unfortunately. And a few lagoons. Which I didn’t get to see either.
Instead, I explored a few shops - there’s really not even a decent one there to browse - and eventually walked to the riverside where I sat in a restaurant which offered great views of said river and the setting sun behind the karst mountains.Leia mais
Ziplining in Vang Vieng
11 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 24 °C
On the previous day, I had taken the train from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng. What was supposed to be a 50-minute train ride turned into 2.5 hours!
On the train itself, I was seated amidst dozens of Lao men. While I was left in peace, it certainly was not an energy I felt comfortable with.
I had hoped for some landscape gazing, however, since the train drove mainly through countless tunnels, it was rather dark for the major part of the journey.
Once in Vang Vieng, the grey, shabby excuse for a hostel didn’t help to improve my mood.
I sat downstairs and ordered some food.
As soon as I started eating, a girl next to me started smoking.
I went back to the counter and asked where to find the non-smoking area.
The staff didn’t catch that. They were visibly confused. Okay, I thought, let’s try it with Google Translate.
That’s when it should have clicked, but it didn’t. They said something along the lines of, “You can sit anywhere.”
Okay. So I took it step by step. “There is a girl. She is smoking a cigarette. I can’t deal with cigarette smoke. It makes me feel sick. Where can I keep eating my food where there is no one who smokes?”
Then it dawned on them. They typed in their translator app: “Take food to dorm.”
For reference, the hostel looked entirely grey, sad, asphalty, cold, and run-down. The mere appearance depressed me.
But great, sure, let’s eat the food in there… (I hate how being a non-smoker here means being in a minority.)
The next day - today for this post - I went ziplining in the morning.
I was driven there in a tuktuk, through narrow roads void of civilisation. I felt rather creeped out by this.
Luckily, they stopped for a family of five to hop on. With three little kids. Oh dear. Suddenly I was missing being alone on that truck. I mean, the kids were okay, apart from their need to yell everything…
After 30 minutes, we arrived at the ziplining centre. We were strapped in and equipped with a broken helmet and mouldy gloves that have never seen water or detergent in their long lives.
I informed one of the guides that my harness was either too small or way too tight, and if he could loosen it or if there was a bigger one.
He didn’t get it - language barrier. But he would continue not to get it and smile it away sheepishly. Once that happens, Lao people just hope for the situation to go away by itself.
But no, not with my life about to dangle by a rope. I insisted on a properly fitting safety harness.
So, when the guide noticed a bashful smile did nothing to amend the situation, he got angry and ripped the straps off me and left.
So now it was for me to stand there sheepishly. And angrily.
Another guide then strapped me in properly, at least, after a while.
I was quite irritated at that point, struggling to make sense of all these weird interactions.
What a wonderful thing to ponder about while hiking uphill at a fast pace…
I did not see that hike coming, but fair enough, you need to gain ground for the activity!
The ziplining itself was fun, though. I certainly needed that.
We were accompanied by two guides. On the first platform, the guide just… zipped away. Our group looked at each other, thinking… What do we do? Did he expect us to follow him? How? While we pondered our next step, a second tour guide had arrived with two more girls to join us. So he connected us to the zipline and gave a modicum of instructions. And the other guide that had zipped away received us at the other end.
There were about six or so sections - and while it wasn’t all that thrill-seeking an activity for me, being in nature was enjoyable indeed and it was fun enough!
Until the last platform, however. There wasn’t another visible zipline, but a rope dangling straight down.
And that’s where we went as well. Straight down. We were strapped in and whoooop - free fall for a few metres - until we were stopped by one of the guides clinging to the rope to stop the free fall before impact…
And that was an unexpectedly exhilarating part. While I ziplined in quiet, a whoop did escape my lips then.
One of the girls - she always went last - was always screaming like a pig for slaughter. My poor ears. Our guide who received us seemed to be equally annoyed by that, which did make me smile. 😁
At the last section before going straight down, he implored the girl, said there’s really no need to scream, and please not to scream.
Of course she screamed.
And then before going straight down, he took her aside and said, “Please, Ma’am, please no scream. I make bet with colleague. I have to pay him beer when you screaming. 3 beer, 4 beer, 5 beer.”
I thought that was hilarious, considering how desperate he sounded at the prospect of paying up his gambling debts. 😁
End of the story: she didn’t go down with us. There was another zipline we hadn’t previously seen, and she went back with the one guide that way.
That concluded the ziplining.
After this, I was driven back to the hostel and decided to explore the area a bit.Leia mais
Whiskey Village
9 de junho, Laos ⋅ ☁️ 32 °C
There was actually another stop: “Whiskey” - Xanghay Village, where they produce rice whiskey.
We had a wee tasting. I kept asking for just a tiny bit in my shot glass - and while I did get less than the others, it was still way too much for my taste. 😁 While I could drink the first one, the second and third remained almost untouched. Also because the alcohol content rapidly increased with each one. From 15% for the red/black one to 35% to 50%.
I kinda felt immediately drunk. 😁
They also showcased other whiskey - bottles filled with, apart from the whiskey, animals. Mainly snakes, centipedes, and scorpions. Apparently, they use geckos too, occasionally.
The purpose of that, as we were told, is to use venomous animals mainly, and that these whiskies are drunk by middle-aged men (50+) to increase their virility. They apparently take a shot daily. Nyok, I guess (“bottoms up“)?
We were free to walk about the village for a few minutes. This time, thankfully, there was no begging.
Back in the boat, we cruised back to Luang Prabang - really, really slowly. It could have taken one hour, but they stretched it over 2.5 hours so we could see the sunset.
At the hostel, I wanted to sort through my luggage and noticed that two items - the exact ones I would have needed at that moment - were missing: my beloved pocket knife and my luggage scale.
When I was in Chiang Mai, I had put my big backpack into storage, and after getting it back, I noticed it was open. I immediately flagged that and was told to check my belongings. At the time, all seemed to be there, but of course, I didn’t know what to look for specifically.
Now I think back to that moment and, while I don’t have proof, I’m pretty sure that was when my stuff was stolen.
I was rather unhappy and grumpy that night.
I went on a hunt for another luggage scale, at least, because I needed that somewhat urgently.
I actually found one. It’s absolute crap, but at least it works.
When I bought it, I couldn’t tell whether the batteries were included. So I asked at the counter. The lady, however, didn’t speak English, so I opted for Google Translate.
While she now knew what I wanted to ask, she just remained clueless and at a loss as to what to say. She was visibly incredibly uncomfortable and seemingly just wanted me to leave. So I just bought the extra batteries, just in case.
This keeps happening, that people react this way. Language barrier - yes - but there’s more to it, especially since technology takes the language barrier away. It seems like genuine cluelessness. I find that truly unnerving.Leia mais
Kuang Si Waterfall and a Déjà Vu
9 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 28 °C
I love a breakfast buffet!
My hostel had a free one waiting for me. It was simple enough, but a level above spongy toast and strawberry-flavoured spreads. Okay, they had that too. But also eggs, pancakes, rice, vegetables, and fruit.
After breakfast, I was picked up and got ready for another tour.
First stop: Kuang Si Waterfalls.
Wow, what a beauty! It’s a waterfall with multiple tiers and milky turquoise water. You can hike up a few metres to see the next tier, and then again, and again, until you reach the main waterfall. Stunning.
From there, if you feel up to it in the heat, you can hike to the top. Which I did. While manageable, my knees were protesting.
Once at the top, you could choose to go to a viewing platform - in exchange for money. I found the idea preposterous, since you can’t even see the waterfall from the platform, and I just walked around instead. There were a few pond sections in the forest before the waterfall. It looked simply serene.
While I was up there, I saw a bunch of monks going for a bath. The table next to the pond was just one big, fluffy orange mess with all their robes on it. 😁
From the waterfalls, we were driven to a spot by the river - for an hour. What a horrible, horrible road. Curvy terrain, most suited to a 4WD. Not for me!
I needed a moment when we finally arrived and I hopped out.
We arrived at a lunch spot - more buffet! - that also featured two elephants: a mother and her baby.
While having lunch, it suddenly dawned on me. Hang on! Were we heading to a cave next? And then the necessary neurons fired. Pak Ou Caves. The same caves I had been to the previous day!
Well, crap. They didn’t even look cool!
But nothing to it, I was going to go there again. I survived one hellish hour in the car for this!
After lunch, we said hi to the elephants and fed them some sugar cane and bananas. It was adorable to see the baby elephant still trying, and often failing, with the fine motor control of its little trunk. I loved that clumsy little gal.
Momma elephant had a party trick up her trunk. When the ranger gave her a hat, she took it with her trunk and put it on the person in front of her. 😁
Soon thereafter, we walked down to the river, got onto a boat, and went to the caves.
Upon arrival, I swiftly hiked up a few steps and headed to a resting spot I already knew existed. I chilled there and waited for the others to conclude their spelunking.
Back in the boat, we were given a drink we had previously ordered: beer, iced tea, or water, in my case. Only they were out of water. I mean, who needs that anyway after a hike in intense heat? Hydration is so overrated.Leia mais
Arriving in Luang Prabang
8 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 30 °C
Soon thereafter, the river cruise concluded in Luang Prabang, we disembarked, and were driven to our respective accommodations.
I actually really enjoyed the cruise and already miss spending all that time in nature, with lunch buffets, surprisingly quiet people (minus one deafening American…) and the occasional cow carcass floating past in the river.
The hostel seems fine so far - though a huge minus is that there is no smoke-free area (why do people care so much about smokers???).
I explored the night market two corners away and was positively surprised! So many awesome souvenirs! I so wish I could stop getting them… 😁
My first impression of Luang Prabang is certainly positive. While the traffic is surprisingly busy, it‘s a laid-back place, and the nature around it is very pleasant.Leia mais
Second Day on the River
8 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 30 °C
The next morning, I was woken up at 6.30am by a combination of my alarm and, yes, of course - because why not? - more cigarette smoke.
Bloody hell.
A quick fruity and yoghurty breakfast later, I was tuktuked back to the river and happily hopped on the boat.
I thoroughly enjoyed my time on the boat. It’s soothing to be in nature, and the river and surrounding scenery are stunning to look at.
I was glad I chose this tour - the issues at the accommodation weren’t their fault, and they smoothed it over quickly.
On the boat, there’s an outdoor deck with four chairs to lie on. Very convenient.
However, people are like egotistical vultures. While we were instructed to be mindful of our time there, everyone wanted to relax on the deck, and as expected, you don’t really stand a chance. As soon as everyone needed to be gathered for something, people started breaking away to grab that prime spot on the boat. They shortened meal times, etc. It’s absurd.
Around noon, before our lunch on the boat, we went to another village. This one was a little bigger than the one from the previous day. It had 450 inhabitants.
Get ready for some more spectacle.
We disembarked, greeted by the first children.
Again, we climbed the shore and made our way to the village.
Suddenly, children emerged from seemingly nowhere, holding fabrics over their arms in a practiced fashion - ready to sell.
They were as young as two years old and maybe up to eight.
It was bizarre.
Like the last, this village is poor, and life is basic at best.
The villagers know and count on tourists coming in regularly from the river cruises - it gives them a chance to sell their goods - fabrics like tissue-sized embroidered pieces made by village children and scarves made by some adults.
The few adults we spotted remained in the back. There must have been about 25 children - the youngest among them barely toddlers.
The swarm of children circled us, holding out fabrics and appealing to us in their innocent, pleading voices to look at and buy the fabrics they shoved in our faces.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this whole ploy is entirely strategic.
Even among the children, discussions arose, with the smallest toddlers being pushed forward, fervently made to hold out the fabrics and say what to say to us.
The way this played out, it was impossible not to think of a zoo.
Tourists shipped to blatantly poor villages, the poverty shoved roughly into their faces by misappropriating and using the innocence of children to evoke sympathy so they buy something.
The twisted part is that yes, by buying these locally made products in poor villages, you are indeed supporting them and their livelihood.
But everything about this is manipulative and poorly orchestrated.
By not buying, yes, you feel inherently terrible. Should you? No, you’re doing nothing wrong. You should only buy something if you truly need it and out of your own volition.
The way the villagers and tour organisers go about this is exploitative of both the children and the tourists. You’re only told that you’re visiting a local village and that you have the chance to buy some souvenirs if you like. A matter of interpretation, to be sure.
We also weren’t shown the village properly. This was entirely for the sake of the purchase.
Many in our group looked coerced into buying something; only a few did so with full intent. You could see the moral dilemma playing out in their eyes.
Enter goody two shoes from the day before, who brought more stationery to gift to the children. This time, she was not met with hesitancy. The children zeroed in on her and grabbed what they could at high speed.
She was out of presents in a matter of seconds. Fights erupted among the kids. It was awkward to watch. Of course, it was documented for posterity.
Then she sat down, snatched a felt-tip out of one kid’s hands and a notebook out of another’s, and proceeded - just like yesterday - to write something in it with pomp and circumstance, surrounded by hesitant children who just didn’t understand English.
Again, yes, it’s great that she and her partner brought them something and were prepared. That is generous and does help the children.
I do, however, question the execution of the matter - the prevalent reason behind it, based on what I could observe.
There was one more stop before our destination, Luang Prabang. It was a cave with lots of Buddha statues. Well, not really fascinating if you ask me. Climbing the 200+ steps in the midday heat was more of a highlight.Leia mais
Pak Beng
7 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 27 °C
At the end of the day, around 4:30 pm, we arrived at the slightly bigger and better-equipped village (only speaking from comparison to the previous one), Pak Beng.
There we were TukTuked to our respective accommodation for the night.
It was only a 3-minute drive over a road that was yearning for some collagen supplements.
I was given a key to my room by a grumpy receptionist who wanted to see my booking confirmation. I kept telling him that I booked via a company that arranges the whole 2-day Mekong tour.
I showed him my booking confirmation for the company, but he was not satisfied with that.
While I had the key, I was told to come downstairs for check-in. He left.
I was entirely confused, because I thought that with the reception of a key, you had effectively checked in.
Nevertheless, I walked downstairs and saw that I just had to put down my personal details. No problem there.
But then the talk about my booking recommenced.
He wanted a bank receipt. I showed him my receipt to the tour company – since this is all I had and since they allocated me to a hotel.
At this point, the conversation got heated, rude, and pushy. He was adamant that he didn’t care about some company and that I pay him now, in cash, for the room.
A few loud words were exchanged.
I contacted my booking company via WhatsApp and they impressed on me not to pay anything and that my tour guide would contact them.
This indeed happened swiftly; I witnessed the phone call.
I expected to be addressed then by the receptionist. But no. He kept looking elsewhere, though I’m pretty sure he must have known I was still around, seeing as I was standing in front of him.
The company texted me back that the situation should be resolved now.
Hm. So I addressed him and asked him if there was a solution available now.
Suddenly he smiled and said, oh, why didn’t I tell him I booked through the company; I should have said so. At which I laughed. I did tell him exactly that, several times.
He initially insisted I didn’t and turned slightly more apologetic bit by bit.
From then on, he was very kind. 😁
I went out for dinner (some pumpkin soup with coconut (delicious!) and a Laos curry with buffalo meat (also delicious!).
Back at the accommodation at past 9 pm, I was headed for bed. I had previously inspected it and it seemed to be fine.
A second inspection followed, just to be sure. Good thing I did. Bug number one seemed to be just that – a small bug – if you trust AI. But critters number 2 and 3 were unmistakably fleas, hopping around.
I vacated the room swiftly and luckily saw the receptionist, who gave me a different room.
This room’s bed only featured a spider and a silverfish, which I banished promptly.
I chose to accept the geckos and ants for the night.
Another 2 hours later, some men walked past my room and tried to open the door. Since I had locked it, that didn’t happen, though they did try.
I barred the door with a chair and wedged it under the doorknob.
Feeling anything but safe, I decided to try and sleep when I suddenly sniffed cigarette smoke. It was like someone was smoking in my room.
It turned out that the AC was circulating the smoke of whoever was smoking. Who does that close to midnight?
It took ages for the smoke to dissipate. I was anything but happy.Leia mais
A Local Village: Kenglae
7 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 27 °C
Highlights from the first day of the cruise: a yummy lunch buffet and visiting a local village.
The village Kenglae is very small, simple, and poor. I’m frankly not even sure to which extent they have electricity. There’s certainly no WiFi or other “luxuries”.
As soon as we arrived at the river shore of the village, we were eagerly welcomed by a few children there.
Together with them and our guide, we climbed uphill – sandy/muddy mounds with the occasional rift.
There were plenty of free-running chickens and their adorable chicklings, as well as dogs, goats (not running free), and at least one pig.
We went through the tiny village and were headed to the school there. Since it was a Sunday, there was no school business, but all the children went with us, even taking our hands.
My impression: the kids were generally calm, modest, and seemed balanced/well-adjusted.
I couldn’t help but notice that and compare it to my experience with children who seemed entitled in comparison, not at all noticing or valuing how privileged they are. Of course, this is very generalised.
But I think the effect of screens is nothing short of detrimental in Western culture.
The school building was more of a structure put together with any material that could be found.
I am not sure what material they have for their lessons, but normally, when I saw schools before, you see books, chalk, a blackboard, etc.
There – nothing. Chairs, desks were scarce (not to be fair, the village was really small), and the wood they’re made of wasn’t polished or anything, more on the mildewy side. The absolute bare minimum for being able to sit down.
Outside, there were a few papers pinned that had fallen victim to the elements.
On the boat, we were told that if we had any spare items, we were welcome to donate them to the children/villagers there.
One couple on the boat must have known about the itinerary specifically and came equipped with crayons, paper, and stickers.
While I think it was truly kind of them to hand that out to the children, the spectacle they made of it was cringeworthy and entitled. The vibe was strongly “Look at how benevolent and generous I am, giving you all these things.”
There were quite a few crayons she had, and she gave them out one by one, kneeling down in front of the children, holding them out in front of her.
The children were shy and happy at the same time, but they barely dared take the crayons because they felt taking more than one would have been too much.
Of course, the couple filmed their spectacle of benevolence.
Then she sat down and started writing something in a booklet, demanding the children’s attention and that they circle around her.
None of the villagers spoke any English, so I wonder what that was all about.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was for social media exposure.
But of course, the children got some donations out of it.
At the end, the kids led us back to the river. And what followed was more cringe.
Our guide told the children to all line up in front of us. Then a woman from our tour group handed each child a twenty Baht note as they stepped forward one by one. All of this was filmed again.
This was a rather absurd scene because the children were almost regarded as objects for tourists to display their benevolence and feel good about themselves. This was NOT about the children – at least that was my impression.
And, at the very end, when we said our goodbyes, the generous couple kneeled down with one of the boys who was minding his business and positioned him in a half-hug to take a photo with him. It was obvious here that the boy didn’t know what to make of that: he stood stock still in the stronghold.
While gliding away from the little village of Keanglea, I noticed several landslides of the village’s rubbish furrowing their way down towards the river. This was heartbreaking.
You do notice those rubbish landslides out here when you spot “civilisation”. In the river itself, there were several plastic bottles and even entire trash bags.Leia mais
2-Day Mekong River Cruise
7 de junho, Laos ⋅ 🌧 23 °C
I’ve lately managed to wake up just before my alarm. Today that was at 4:27 am.
At 5 am, I was ready to be picked up by a van to be driven to the Thai border from Chiang Rai, the Fourth Lao/Thai Bridge of Friendship.
I confidently diagnosed our driver with a vibrant mix of some top-shelf ADHD, withdrawal from whatever – but it must have been some dependency – and something I call “Restless limb and head syndrome”; maybe some OCD as well.
The driver had two phones. One for navigation, one for music – mainly. Both phones were supposed to stay attached to their designated phone holders.
That’s exactly where they didn’t spend a whole lot of time, since the driver couldn‘t keep his hands off them. He constantly touched them to check the weather, updates, his schedule, the music, the navigation, to take phone calls, and many other things.
When he didn’t do that, he adjusted the AC, the windows, his face – everything you could possibly think to do in a car.
I’m truly surprised we all arrived at the border after 2 hours in one piece, since he had zero focus on the road.
Once at the border, we waited. And waited. And waited. What did we wait for? No one ever told me.
Eventually, we made our way through the immigration point in Thailand, which was a fairly quick matter.
Then we waited again. One hour went by at that place…
While we were waiting, we were passing the time by filling out our visa on arrival documents for Laos – I could think of more fun things to do.
Unless you’re a lucky duck from Switzerland, you have to come prepared with: a passport, naturally; 40 US dollars in crisp notes – and they mean crisp! (and they need to be at least from 2019); two passport photos (they only wanted one but said to bring two); plus, of course, the visa form and the arrival form.
Then we were allowed to board a bus that would bring us to the Laos border – and wow. That bus was gross! It smelled mouldy and every single seat on that bus was deeply stained – and was likely mouldy as well. The smell had to come from somewhere.
An active AC ensured that the spunky spores were merrily milled around and nested in your nose with ferocious fervour.
I felt rather sick.
At the Laos border, step by step, our group of 20+ people handed in all their documents. Luckily, everything went smoothly.
Another 15-minute drive in the van to the Mekong River – where we all boarded a boat for a 2-day river cruise.Leia mais
Wat Rong Khun - White Temple
6 de junho, Tailândia ⋅ 🌧 28 °C
I had meant for today to be chill. But, nah. Two things on the agenda: I had some postcards to post but still needed stamps. And my phone stopped charging properly a few weeks ago, and it kept getting worse. None of my cables would work bar one. And it went from charging rapidly to just charging to charging very slowly. That was increasingly problematic being constantly on the move and often not having a chance to charge devices.
Therefore, I set off to solve both issues.
I went to the first phone repair shop. I said, “My charging port isn’t working,” and proceeded to translate that for her on my phone, with a few added bits of info.
The lady behind the counter then checked different cables – hers, mine, plus my adapter.
Her diagnosis:
“Your cable isn’t working.”
I negated, stating it works with any other device but my phone.
More tests on her part:
“Your adapter isn’t working.”
I negated, stating it works with any other cable but with my phone.
Minutes passed until she concluded:
“Your charging port isn’t working.”
Well, thank you, Sherlock.
I was glad we found ourselves in agreement finally, and went on to the most pressing of questions: “Can you fix it?”
“No.”
…
She sent me off 11 km to a shopping centre where I could be helped for sure.
Before that happened, I went around the corner to head into the post office quickly.
Which was closed.
So I thought, fine! I can go to the post office at the shopping centre, then!
First, I tried to fix the phone issue and went to the repair place.
“Which phone have you got?”
“Nothing.” (It’s the brand name.)
“No can fix it. Need to send it in. No one be able to help you here. No place in Thailand.”
Well, fantaaaastic.
I went to the post office to at least get one thing done.
It was open!
“Sawasdee ka. Could I have some stamps for postcards, please?”
“Stamps we not selling. No stamps at post office here.”
“You don’t sell stamps here??”
“No. You go here tomorrow.” She proceeded to show me a spot on Google Maps that was 5 km away.
“I can’t make it tomorrow. Is there no chance to do that today?”
“You hurry. It closes at 12.”
“Kawp kuhn ka.”
“Kawp kuhn kaaaaaaa.”
It was 11:38.
I booked a Grab that arrived at 11:45.
I made it to the post office at 11:55. Phew! Thankfully – I’ll spare you the dialogue this time – it all went well. They actually had stamps. 😁
I took one more chance with a repair shop, seeing as I was on a roll of success after having acquired stamps.
I Grabbed there on a motorbike just when it had started to rain.
Luckily, my driver had a helmet that I was indeed allowed to close this time.
He proceeded to drive me one-handedly. The other hand was holding a small baby blue umbrella in front of him haphazardly. Let’s not discuss the safety of that…
Once at the repair shop, I explained my conundrum to the tech guy.
Lo and behold, he actually had useful equipment to take measurements and arrive at a diagnosis.
All he did eventually was clean my charging port thoroughly with the proper equipment and rubbing alcohol (I had tried as well, but being short of a magnifying glass and long enough stuff to safely jam in the port, I couldn’t do much else. I had tried with a needle before – not a great idea. I was actually worried that I had damaged the port with that too much).
I was relieved, to say the least.
I went back to the hostel in the pouring rain.
Back in the dorm, two of the girls there – Annika from Norway/the US and a French girl whose name shall remain a mystery to us all – wanted to explore the White Temple and invited me to come along.
I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic – temples are fun to look at once, but then more on the boring side.
I was convinced, however, being told that this was designed by an artist and fairly new.
Wat Rong Khun, the White Temple, is a contemporary Buddhist temple in Chiang Rai designed by renowned Thai artist Chalermchai Kositpipat. Construction began in 1997 and is still ongoing. The stark white colour symbolises the purity of the Buddha, and the intricate mirrors shimmer in the sunlight. Unlike traditional Thai temples, it blends Buddhist symbolism with Hindu imagery and pop culture references.
I will admit, the temple was indeed stunning to look at! There’s so much intricate detail; you just keep seeing more and more the longer you look at a certain spot.
Plus, the entry fee allowed us to go into the “Cave of Arts” as well, and both of those attractions almost made up for half of the aforementioned entry fee.
The Cave of Arts was a rather odd, but fascinating experience. I’m still not sure what to make of that, to be frank.
It featured superheroes carved in stone, eerie music, lights, mirror shards, floating COVID viruses and screaming faces.
The next cave had an illuminated Buddha statue in an artificial cave lake with lots of coins thrown into the water that easily could have gotten me back my entrance fee plus some spending money. 😁
While Frenchie was busy selfieing around extensively (!!), Annika and I actually explored the area.
At the end of the day, Annika and I both craved some sushi, and we went back to the shopping centre where I had previously been and had already discovered some divinely made sushi! The texture of the rice was just right: very soft, but firm enough, melting in your mouth, slightly warm still. The seasoning? Perfectly balanced! Colour me impressed!
We walked up and down the mall and chatted, letting the day come to a nice end.
Once back at the hostel, we kept chatting in our dorm room that we shared among six of us.
At around 7 pm, Frenchie had got back as well and decided to chill in her bunk, doing some reading. What she didn’t appreciate, however, was that other people in the dorm were having conversations. So she told us off and asked for some respect to stop talking so she could read in peace.
We were rather stunned by that and quieted.
And then we thought, actually, no. This was not a reasonable request.
So we recommenced our conversation – not that we were loud before at all – but we did talk more quietly to show some consideration at least.
Shortly thereafter, Frenchie again poked her head out of the curtain asking for consideration and respect and to stop talking.
This time I rebutted and said, respectfully, but this is unreasonable and not apropos to ask a dorm full of people to shut up for your sake at past 7 pm in the evening. Had it been 10 pm – absolutely.
People staying at hostels sign up for a social aspect, at least (though I’m the first one to admit to being annoyed when people are being truly inconsiderate and indeed unreasonable).
She got quite furious and called us disrespectful in colourful variants and just refused to see reason.
I stopped caring at that point. It’s not like anyone kept her from going anywhere else in the largely empty and very quiet hostel.
The others kept chatting on, and eventually Frenchie made a dramatic show out of sighing theatrically in regular outraged intervals, ripping her curtain aside, and storming out of the dorm.
So much for that.
Oh, we did mention to her that if she thought it was unreasonable at all for her the previous night to bounce into the dorm close to midnight and strike up a sparkling conversation by waking up a random girl and asking her for an absolutely vital make-up remover, she chose to entirely ignore this – conveniently.
On the topic of make-up: before we left for the temple, Frenchie also made a bit of a spectacle out of dressing up for social media and elaborately doing her make-up.
A conversation about make-up and travelling followed, to which I contributed that I didn’t see the point in it while travelling – I don’t have the time, frankly, and just gave up on it.
Frenchie was aghast and said (please read with a thick accent), “Oooh, you must be very brave! I could never do that! I do not have the courage and would feel so ugly and naked!”
I made the conscious choice to take that as a compliment. I think… 😁Leia mais
Thai Cooking Class
5 de junho, Tailândia ⋅ 🌧 30 °C
Let’s get cooking!
Thailand seemed like the place to try another cooking class!
So, that’s what I did today. It was in the outskirts of Chiang Mai in what I can only describe as a sanctuary. Water, watermills, open pagoda-shaped houses – it looked truly dreamy.
Before we arrived at the place itself, we went to a market where we were told about Thai ingredients. While that was interesting, my attention was much more captivated by interesting culinary souvenirs I could acquire to add to my way too heavy backpack full of other souvenirs. I’m actually struggling to manage with the extra weight and volume… Is that stopping me? Well… 😁
The cooking class, led by a chef named Patty, had you prepare 6 dishes in total. You could choose from a selection of options for each category – appetizer, soup, curry, stir-fry, etc.
After every dish was prepared, you could eat it.
I particularly enjoyed my spring rolls! Though it also didn’t take much to feel completely full. I barely touched my Pad Thai, so that was a shame.
After we had made our curries (we had to mortar our own curry paste – hard work!), we followed that up with some lovely mango sticky rice. Now that I know just how much sugar goes in there… Well, there are things you just don’t think about. 😁
All in all, the cooking class was fun, and the digital recipe book you got afterwards is very well-made.
I can compare it to the cooking class in Bali and will say this: Both were amazing!
The chef in Bali was engaging lots more with people, had a fine sense of humour, and his staff was top-notch at organising the whole class. You ate at the end from a buffet of all the dishes you previously prepared. That meant you could avoid overeating.
However, the location of the class in central Seminyak just wasn’t very pretty. This is where the Thai class clearly trumped Bali.
Furthermore, the Bali class had photographers at the ready who took footage of everyone. This was a truly nice memory, especially the video montage they sent us afterwards.
Yes, they almost went over the top and beyond with that, but it made the experience memorable because you kept being constantly awed. Not to mention the certificate at the end.
If both classes were combined: unstoppable.
My co-cookers were largely Chinese, which meant minimal communication, which is always a shame.
One girl in particular just didn’t engage with anyone at all because she was busy photographing and filming everything. Her chopping, stirring, washing her hands.
Yep…
After the cooking class had finished, I went to chill for another 1.5 hours before I ordered a Grab to the bus terminal.
My bus to Chiang Rai was due to leave at 5 pm.
It was only 5 or so km, so it shouldn’t take that long.
Well, my driver kept taking weird turns that kept adding onto the ETA bit by bit. From 4:50 pm to 4:58 pm.
I told my driver that I’m in a hurry and need to catch a bus. What followed was nothing but Thai, which I just don’t understand.
I made it to the terminal at 4:58 pm. I rushed to the information to see where I had to go.
The information told me to queue somewhere, what I did. I had to wait my turn, and that’s where I got incredibly impatient. I was in a rush, sweating, carrying 30+ kg, having to catch a bus in less than 2 minutes, and both of the staff at the counter were involved in leisurely chit-chats about whatever. It was 3 minutes past 5 pm when I was called on, only to find out I’m in the wrong place. I had to go to the other end of the terminal.
So I raced off, already coming to terms with having to wait another 1.5 hours to catch the next bus.
But, lucky me, the bus was still waiting!
I tetrissed my luggage into the bus, aided by a lacklustre driver, and then hesitantly asked if I could still manage a trip to the bathroom.
I could.
I ran to the loo, haphazardly noticing a lady behind another counter, yelling “3 BAAAAAAAHT” after me – at that moment, I frankly didn’t care.
I intended to pay on the way out, but first things first.
Seeing the state of the toilets, my best intentions shrank to a mere moral obligation.
The bathroom was practically flooded and I don’t wanna know the components. No toilet paper (a rare commodity in all of Thailand and Malaysia previously), no soap, and “subpar” hygienic standards. If any at all.
On the way out, I did pay the “3 BAAAAAAAHT”, but I couldn’t mask the potpourri of frustration, disgust, annoyance, rush, worry that were furrowing their way across my face.
I made it onto the bus – only to realise there was a toilet on board that was actually decent enough. 😁
About 4 hours later, close to 9 pm, I arrived in Chiang Rai – at a really nice and QUIET hostel. After the last place, I was thrilled!Leia mais







































































































































































































































































































































































