My Laos adventure

Monday 18th August. 15.00. Book flights to Laos. Excited.
Monday 18th August. 18.00. Informed that all trips to Laos have been cancelled for the past two days due to flooding. Excitement reduced.

Wednesday 20th August. Arrive Luang Prabang, Laos. Raining. Heavily. Excitement evaporates.

Thursday 21st August. As the rain stopped, my three day trek started. A happy coincidence of timing. The only problem being that my trekking route was knee deep with water. All in all a soggy start to my Laos adventure.

However, things picked up when we eventually arrived in the local village that was to be my home for two nights. We started drinking the local whisky - Lao Lao. However, banter was restrained by the lack of a single word in common. Therefore non-verbal communication became essential. The only problem being that their non-verbal communication consisted primarily of commenting on the fact that I was larger than the average Laoitian (family, perhaps). We may have shared a common appearance of a slightly protruding belly (although the politically correct amongst you might find fault in comparing overnourished with malnourished), yet their gentle ribbing became slightly over-the-top when they made me climb onto a set of scales to gauge exactly how many Laoitians my body weight is similar to. Alternatively they may have simply been remarking on how slim I am looking at present, but I can't be sure.

Therefore (slightly drunk) I decided that I'd resort to what the English know best. A game of football. Or football voleyball as it seemed to be. My talents on the pitch seemed more appreciated than in the drinking circle, though communication remained an issue. My cries of "on me 'ead, son" and "send it to the back stick" were greeted with mere bafflement, although I am sure that I heard murmerings, regarding a recent match, that "the forth Cambodian goal was miles offside". It might have been lost in translation.
















Waking up to a breakfast of river weed was an unexpected treat on day 2, but the day's cuisine adventures had barely begun. As I watched lunch being served, I could not understand why they were catching beetles and removing the wings - the ground, mixed chilli certainly had an extra spice. Snails at dinner was a step too far for me (a little too French, perhaps).

The activity on day two might come as a shock to friends and family, but I actually did a hard day's work. Manual labour. In the rice fields. Cutting weeds. However, I did a hard day's work... Laos style. For every hour work, there was at least an hour's break. When this is added to the two hour lunch and siesta, as well as finishing at 3pm, some might question the work ethic of the people. Yet I salute them, having spent three years in employment attempting to bring in similar working practices, albeit to no avail.



















On day three I rode an elephant. Accusations abound that I am simply doing these 'touristy' activities, but if you saw my elephant turbo-charging over waterfalls at hair-raising speeds, I can guarentee you that I would seem like a local. Almost.