Running Like A Girl

Fifty, Fat and Fighting to Get Fit

Flitting into my head a few times after I arrived in Laos was the thought "now is a good time to run again".
 

Zooropa

Lao Zoo aka 'Vientiane Zoo', 'Baan Kuen Zoo' or just 'The Zoo' (there is only one public zoo in Laos).

Seemed like a great idea at the time - catch the bus to Vientiane zoo for a few hours on Sunday.

Crafternoon #1

It was Martin's idea but we were all for it: let's do something creative; something arty; something crafty.

Vietnamese-style pointy bamboo hats are plentiful and cheap and so is poster paint. What if we put the two together....?

Poster paint + bamboo = ART

 

Plans to sit in a park overlooking a golden temple were shelved due to rain. Elcira and Jorge's flat is gorgeous and has an inspiring view. Perfect!

Inspired and creative on a wet afternoon

Most of us had no clear direction or approach. But Martin knew where he was going:

Inspired

 

Clara and Jorge got right into a cubist interpretation of woven bamboo:

 Practical application of mathematical formulae

Tentative at first but precise and orderly

 

 Elcira launched into some free-flowing floral folk art:

free-flowing, floral and folky

 

Suggestions were made that I was re-living the decade when Sandman panel vans ruled the streets and airbrushed palm trees were cool. Not true! My inspiration actually came from the view outside the window. I don't think they believe me. 

 

 Not a panel van in sight



 

Some of the aforementioned inspiration may have come from a 3 litre cardboard box (allegedly).

Liquid inspiration

 

Expressing our creativity and individuality made a nice change from the usual weekend activities. (What ARE the usual weekend activities around here?)  It may also have been just an excuse to have a wine with friends.

 

What else are weekends for?

 

Productive or what?

 

I'm not sure if it'll create a new trend in town but painting bamboo hats was great fun and a lovely way to spend a rainy arvo in ol' Wiengchan. Now if only it would stop raining long enough for us to wear them in public!

River Song

We Went to Wang Wieng for the Weekend.

(OK, so without the Laos accent it's called Vang Vieng. But that didn't sound as good. I love a little alliteration!)

This post is partially to show off what a cool time I had recently, but also to show how spectacular the scenery is a little way up north.

And some might be wondering whether to add it to your Laos itinerary. I vote yes.

 

Yes!

 

If you've heard of this place recently it is probably because of some sad and nasty experiences had by some fun-loving back-packers when filled with grog and other stuff and doing dumb things in fast running rivers.

It was the scenery that called my name. And the river, Nam Song. (River Song). I've been here before but so long ago I've forgotten everything except the limestone karst panorama. There wasn't much to do here back then. Certainly no water sports and over-indulging. Not that I remember anyway!

River Song and her jagged panorama

 

It still attracts backpackers. Young and gorgeous; grubby and underdressed; funded by parents and carrying iPads and secret little stashes in the bottom of their packs. (I suspect).

But there weren't many people of any age around. The place was pretty quiet, We'd expected a fair bit of doof doof  and a dose of 'falang cringe' but the doof was minimal and the bogans were rare.

A few falang

 

With signs like this around can you blame us for tensing in anticipation of 24 hour party people?

 

Fat Monkeys. "Free beer... Laughing gas...Come in and get drunk". I feel so old.

Although slightly older than the targeted demographic, we went tubing.

Loaded up and ready to toob

"And don't the kids love it!"

 

It's not exactly an 'extreme sport'. We floated calmly down the river, gazing in awe at the mountains above. We stopped for a drink and a snack enroute. Kids threw ropes attached to water bottles over our heads. We caught the ropes, they towed us in. We scrambled bare-footed up the bank to the bar. Life in the third world can be so difficult.

We also went "caving". This basically meant sweating our way up a zillion steps then through a great cave that looked like a whale's belly.

I know how Jonah must have felt. Not enough to make me repent, though.

Walking across the bridge to the cave

Looking back across the flat side of the river
 

We stopped at a little temple thing with a statue of Kuan Ying (Buddha in female form), incense and lots of ants.

Kuan Ying

Incense crawling with insects

Gingerish

Another little temple thing

Hanging around. Sweating a lot.

Green beans over River Song

 

We stayed in bungalows right on the river's edge. The rain overnight meant there wasn't much space between the low wall beside us and the swirling brown stuff.

 

That was my room behind the balcony.

The room reminded me of a scene in a movie that I've forgotten the name of.

I got up early Sunday morning fearing that the gorgeous mountain mistiness would fade quickly.  It didn't - it hung around for hours. It was still worth getting up early though.

 Here's a few of my Sunday morning breakfast-time photos...

Misty and moody views

Some bungalows on the other side - and their taxi

 

Collecting little fish for making larp

 

 

And I did enjoin the view, even though I didn't take a baot.

(is it unfair to take the piss of poor spelling in a country like this?)

And if that's not enough misty, moody mountains for you, read on... I have thoughtfully stashed the rest of my pics behind the "read more" thing below. If you've had quite enough and want to quietly leave now, you are excused. But for connoisseurs of karsts and clouds...

Zen and the Art of Motorbikin'

Needing to feel the wind in my hair, sun on my face, see some rice fields and feel glad to be alive, I suggested hiring scooters for a day and heading off into the wild green yonder. So we did...

Four Australians on three Japanese scooters.  We looked tough; we looked like a bikie gang. We WERE a bikie gang.

Tough - but fair

(yeah, I'm not convinced either)

 

We headed off in the general direction of Buddha Park. I have vague recollections of having been there before. It remember it was tacky and a bit decrepit.

 

We followed the guy with the GPS. He suggested the scenic route. I naively agreed.

 

Country roads - that's Martin in the distance

 

As we reached the outskirts of Vientiane (which didn't take long) the roads started to get thinner and wobblier.  Then they got dirtier. In fact, for a lot of the scenic route, the roads were dirt. And holes.

 

Dirt roads with many wet potholes

 

This picture shows one of the rutted red roads we negotiated. It's by no means one of the bad ones. There was no way I was going to try to ride one handed, manoeuvre around those holes and piles of dirt and the odd goat or two and take a photo at the same time. I would have been eating dirt in no time!

 

On the way we saw a lot of temples. Maybe about 20 or more. Every village had one or two. We stopped at one. A monk came out to chat and take photos.

 

Martin and a monk

 

Amidst the blue sky, fluffy white clouds, bright green rice fields and red-brown roads, the temples were strikingly gold and glittery. There's a lot of attention paid to the glittery bits. They shine and twinkle and make you forget that you are standing near a dead cat and a pile of old plastic bags.

 

Village temple

 

We rode alongside the Mekong River with Thailand on the other side.

 

Riverside Riding

 

This is an Isaan/Lao style temple on the Thai side of the river.

 

One of the things I was keen to see was Laos countryside. I knew it was out there. I'd seen it once a long time ago and more recently I'd seen pictures. It's not far away. Within a couple of kilometres I was seeing rural scenes that are postcard-worthy. Or at least blog-worthy.

 

Stay there, kids, I'm comin' through.

 

At one point a herd of stampeding goats came running at us with wild eyes and tails high and barking dogs at their heels. One of us was slightly startled and had to dodge a few galloping goats. (Not me). It was hilarious. I wished I had my camera in my hand!

Here's a family out for a day trip on the tractor

 

 I remembered the green of young rice fields as almost luminescent. It still is. Not sure if you can see this colour in the same way as I did but it hurts your eyes it is so fresh and crisp and gorgeously green.

That green is astoundingly, um, green.

 

Eventually - and I think it took about two and half hours of rumbling and shaking and dodging potholes and concentrating on the flattest part of the rutted road, we arrived at Buddha Park! Phew.

 

 

Buddha Park

 

Buddha Park was built by a rich eccentric guy in the 50s. It's bigger than I remembered.  And better. It's basically full of concrete statues of Buddhist and Hindu deities and characters. There are Shivas and Buddhas and Ganeshes. they were astounding.  And weird. And some were just tacky.  It was great! Here's some pictures:

This one is eating the moon.

Lots and lots of statues

Love these creepy guys!

 

Rows and rows of stones

 

Lots more statues (sick of them yet?)

 

Elcira climbing out at the top of the pumpkin

 

Here's some risk takers on top of the pumpkin. We endured some of the thinnest, steepest, unsafest staircases to get to the top. But it was worth it!

 

And here's a picture of the pumpkin thing. It's actually a structure representing various levels of hell.

 

Great pumpkin of hell. Or something like that.

 

And here's the view from on top of the pumpkin thing. The great big lying down Buddha was about, oh, lots of metres long and pretty tall. The topiary was interesting, too.

Buddha park from the top of the thing

 

On the way home we saw more pretty rural scenes of (probably poor and definitely nonunionised) farm labourers and green rice fields and we copped a whole lot more sunshine without the protection of conical bamboo hats.

 

Planting of the green stuff

 

Digging the red-brown stuff

 

Arriving home slightly sunburnt and tired I was satisfied I had seen a little bit of rural Laos - or at least the edges-of-the-city rural bits.

 

Vols on wheels. Heading back into the city.

 

Oh, and I am DEFINITELY going to buy a scooter now. I loved the freedom, the independence, the wind in my hair (despite the helmet that would have Eric Estrada green with envy) and what a great way to get away from squealing tuk tuks and the smell of death (or is that just rotting mangoes?)