5th – 7th October 2011
Clambering out of the longtail boat moored not-so-steadily on a low sandy bank on Don Khon, we ventured just a hundred yards or so before we found a guesthouse offering a little bungalow built on the river, complete with a couple of hammocks and a desk looking out over the water we were set. At 20,000 kip it was also the cheapest room we had been in, a reason made evident by the concrete box shared bathroom where the only place to hang your clothes was on a bamboo road doubling as a highway for nasty big red ants. I actually managed to get all my clothes wet, including my towel when I had a shower there.
After our early start in Champasak we decided to take a little walk to the end of the island and reward our wonderful selves with several beers. We took the computer and while I worked on the photos and swilled beer, Djalma fell asleep in a hammock.
Come late afternoon, I had had more than enough beer but we decided to move to a slightly more expensive bar at the tip of the island from where we could watch the sun setting and nibble on some much needed food. I sipped on a Lao Lao cocktail while Djalma polished off another beer and we watched the sun go down over the river. There wasn’t much of a party scene and aside from an Australian family of three it was just us and the waitresses. We decided to hit the sack and watch a film, I guess we can’t really comment on the night life seeing as we went to bed at 8.30.
The next we lazed about in our hammocks watching the world go by, I mended a rip in my trousers that I had got when visiting the waterfalls in the Bolaven Plateau and Djalma snoozed and read a book. We checked out of our hotel when I decided that I couldn’t face the prospect of another ant infested shower. We hoisted our bags over our shoulders and walked down the length of the island to a small bridge connecting Don Khon to Don Dhet, a much quieter island but home to all the sights.
We found a small room next to the islands only Wat, again looking out over the river but onto the other island. It was still cheap but had its own attached bathroom out the back, a hastily made concrete structure with plaster still on the tiles but no ants!
We chatted to a guy we had met previously, a friendly German dude who was travelling by himself before setting off to get some lunch. We found it less than 100 metres away. The food took and age to arrive and after a few minutes I decided to go into the Wat which was right next door. It was pretty quiet, I saw only a couple monks walking about and some kids playing in the large path lined with chedi (I think – these are usually bell shaped and contain relics of the Buddha but more frequently ashes of patrons).
Back at the restaurant my yellow coconut curry with carrots, potatoes and chicken had arrived, it was much better than Djalma’s stir fried beef with vegetables but alas, it wanted to make a quick escape not long after arriving in my tummy.
After lunch we followed the road leading to a set of rapids which was one of the highlights of the island. They were impressive and loud but really muddy and not all that photogenic. It was here that disaster nearly struck and my curry nearly exited without permission in a very public location. I sprinted around the little shops set up nearby, shouting for a toilet while my husband continued to sit and look out over the waterfall/rapids. Having, mercifully, found a loo, I schlepped back to the bench feeling rather sorry for myself. We tried to pay the toilet lady for my quick dash but she had no change, in fact no-one had any small change, so I had a poo for free.
We went back to our room not stopping for the butterflies this time and I lay on the bed feeling sorry for myself (I really do hate diarrhoea). We watched a film and then went to sleep, the only event of the night being a largish cockroach that crawled over our feet trying to make it into bed. I didn’t sleep too well after that.
The next day we were away having booked a place on a bus to take us across the border to Cambodia, It was the same affair to get off the islands as it was to get on, boat then a bus which we had to wait a good hour for.
Into Cambodia
While we waited for that bus we filled in Cambodia arrival forms and Laos Departure ones, attaching photos were necessary. The bus took us to the border where we were greeted by the MOST AWFUL CUSTOMS OFFICIALS it has ever been my (dis)pleasure to meet. Everywhere someone wanted a dollar or five to do their job, it made me so angry. Waiting for my visa to be stuck in I watched as the official casually flipped and re-flipped through my passport looking at stamps and previous visas, they pointblank refused to give me a visa in my NZ passport but held onto it just to piss me off, it worked.
He wanted to know about my Russian visas, purely from curiosity not because they presented any kind of problem concerning entry into his country. They sat there in their khaki green uniforms glaring out informing all who passed through that it was actually 23USD instead of 20USD for a visa, a three dollar bonus for them. Most of the other guys who wanted extra money gave in if you said you didn’t have the money or if you demanded a receipt and questioned paying the fee. They even had a medical booth set up where we sat and filled in forms saying we were healthy, had a temperature gun pointed at our faces and then were told to pay a dollar. When we refused the guy took the completed forms back and told us to go to the visa section. What was the point of that?!
We eventually got through and then had an hour wait in the sun for our bus to turn up – we had all been booked on a later bus despite there being one ready to go when we were finished, I took a little walk up the road and had a little whinge before I cooled off. After more than a hour, our bus came, collected us and then dropped Djalma and I off at a junction 20km outside of Stung Treng, a small transport hub.
We sat and waited passing the hour we were told we would have to wait, in a small roadside restaurant. The hour came and went and we asked a guy at the next table if he knew what time the bus would be passing through to Ban Lung, our first stop in Cambodia. He replied that it came at 6pm. We had been dropped off at 2 in the afternoon and told to wait until 3pm. Feeling like first time fools we got out our playing cards and played a few hands of trance (in which I beat Djalma’s ass) gathering a little following as playing cards in public always seems to do. We got talking to a boy who tried to persuade us to stay in the town and work in his school just over the road. He was very sweet and after inspecting all our playing cards he drew a little picture of the town.
Eventually, at 5.30pm, our bus pulled up and we lumbered on sitting near the back and trying to catch some air-conditioning. A very long bus ride later, we collected our very dusty red bags from the back seat, minded the glass shards from a window broken from a flying stone mid-trip, and as soon as we stepped off the bus were accosted by hotel touts. After one failed inspection (the shared toilet at the Lakeside hotel was infested with huge black ants, they bite just as much and as painfully as red ants) and A LOT of walking we eventually found a place to stay for the next few days that wasn’t too expensive (5USD a night) and didn’t smell musty (bad for Djalma’s asthma). It was after 11pm when we finally crashed out a mere hour and a half after arriving in the dusty red town.
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