Just as I am beginning to get my head around Lao money, which is 12, 000 kip to the pound, I cross the boarder into Vietnam, where one pound is worth 33, 000 dong. I still hesitate when pressing the three million button on the ATM.
To get to Hanoi in Vietnam I take the tourist bus, which I hate, but local buses across the border are notoriously late, bumpy or non existent. It would take at least three days, with over night stops in one horse towns, and probably more if the buses aren't full enough to justify the journey. The tourist bus gets the job done in 24 hours straight, no changes, no delays.... Ok, fewer changes and fewer delays.
Having met my friend Charlotte in the tubing town of Vang Vieng*, where it rained for three days and we were flooded in our bungalow, we have to catch a mini bus back to Vientiane before getting on our 'VIP' sleeper bus. In Lao, all 'VIP' means airconditioning. The bus is fitted with two tiers of reclining, red leather chairs arranged head to foot in three columns down the length of the bus, leaving two asiles. Lao and Vietnmases passengers are separated from other travellers, and I am shouted at by the driver and pushed to the back when I try and sit too far forward. When I argue back he says 'I don't know, I don't know', which I think means he doesn't understand my protests. The same happens when we stop at a service station - Lao and Vietnamese sit in one room, Western travellers in another. I don't why this is.
At 2:00 in the morning the bus stops, engine off and, with no explanation, the drivers come and sleep in the vacant seats. I guess that this is because we are at the border, which doesn't open until 6:00. I don't sleep because of the snorning from every direction, and sure enough when the sun rises and I step outside there are tens of buses lined up in front and behind of us.
Despite already having my Vietnamese visa, it takes three hours to get my exit stamp from Lao and have my passport checked (eight times) in Vietnamese immigration. There is lots of pointless waiting, form filling out and stamping (of feet and passports), all done by very important men in militaty uniform.
Nine more hours in my narrow little bed and I arrive in the capital - the dense green country side having merged gradually into rice paddies, followed by rice paddies dotted with ugly concrete buildings, followed by inner city Hanoi. With more traffic than Mumbai, more pollution than Kathmandu, more lights than Bangkok and more mopeds than the whole of Laos put together (and there are a lot of mopeds in Laos), Hanoi is crazy. And very hot. I almost wish I was back on the airconditioned bus, but not quite.
* Vang Vieng was famous a few years ago for being the most unlikely party town in the world. A tiny riveside village in the middle of Laos, travellers flocked here for Magaluf style partying whilst 'tubing' down the NamSong river, stopping at bars on the way. In 2011 more than 20 tourists died from drowning, jumping the river and hitting their heads on the rocks and drug overdoses, making it Asia's most dangerous destination for tourists. This figure was only slightly higher than years before, but, coupled with at least one serious injury a week, was eough for the Lao government to shut down bars, put serious fines on drug posession and ban zip wires, rope swings and slides into the river. There are now just three bars along the NamSong, with ping pong tables and boule. Tubing is a leisurely affair, although there are still groups attempting (and failing) to recreate Vang Vieng's crazy past by dancing on tables and embarassing locals by walking around the town in swim wear, beers in hand.
To get to Hanoi in Vietnam I take the tourist bus, which I hate, but local buses across the border are notoriously late, bumpy or non existent. It would take at least three days, with over night stops in one horse towns, and probably more if the buses aren't full enough to justify the journey. The tourist bus gets the job done in 24 hours straight, no changes, no delays.... Ok, fewer changes and fewer delays.
Having met my friend Charlotte in the tubing town of Vang Vieng*, where it rained for three days and we were flooded in our bungalow, we have to catch a mini bus back to Vientiane before getting on our 'VIP' sleeper bus. In Lao, all 'VIP' means airconditioning. The bus is fitted with two tiers of reclining, red leather chairs arranged head to foot in three columns down the length of the bus, leaving two asiles. Lao and Vietnmases passengers are separated from other travellers, and I am shouted at by the driver and pushed to the back when I try and sit too far forward. When I argue back he says 'I don't know, I don't know', which I think means he doesn't understand my protests. The same happens when we stop at a service station - Lao and Vietnamese sit in one room, Western travellers in another. I don't why this is.
At 2:00 in the morning the bus stops, engine off and, with no explanation, the drivers come and sleep in the vacant seats. I guess that this is because we are at the border, which doesn't open until 6:00. I don't sleep because of the snorning from every direction, and sure enough when the sun rises and I step outside there are tens of buses lined up in front and behind of us.
Despite already having my Vietnamese visa, it takes three hours to get my exit stamp from Lao and have my passport checked (eight times) in Vietnamese immigration. There is lots of pointless waiting, form filling out and stamping (of feet and passports), all done by very important men in militaty uniform.
Nine more hours in my narrow little bed and I arrive in the capital - the dense green country side having merged gradually into rice paddies, followed by rice paddies dotted with ugly concrete buildings, followed by inner city Hanoi. With more traffic than Mumbai, more pollution than Kathmandu, more lights than Bangkok and more mopeds than the whole of Laos put together (and there are a lot of mopeds in Laos), Hanoi is crazy. And very hot. I almost wish I was back on the airconditioned bus, but not quite.
* Vang Vieng was famous a few years ago for being the most unlikely party town in the world. A tiny riveside village in the middle of Laos, travellers flocked here for Magaluf style partying whilst 'tubing' down the NamSong river, stopping at bars on the way. In 2011 more than 20 tourists died from drowning, jumping the river and hitting their heads on the rocks and drug overdoses, making it Asia's most dangerous destination for tourists. This figure was only slightly higher than years before, but, coupled with at least one serious injury a week, was eough for the Lao government to shut down bars, put serious fines on drug posession and ban zip wires, rope swings and slides into the river. There are now just three bars along the NamSong, with ping pong tables and boule. Tubing is a leisurely affair, although there are still groups attempting (and failing) to recreate Vang Vieng's crazy past by dancing on tables and embarassing locals by walking around the town in swim wear, beers in hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment