Sleep all the way indeed! I guess I was remembering the trip from Vientiane to VV. Minibus that time, comfy enough seat that I was dozing involuntarily a lot of the way. Any time I looked out of the window, there was so much dust in the air it was like driving through fog, or a sandstorm. This time I was packed into a minivan with a Dutch couple and a Swiss couple, obviously retirees, a Laotian who worked in mining near VV (copper), and two girls who didn't say anything the entire trip. Took a little over six hours, during which my face hurt on the inside from the sinus infection, and my head hurt on the outside - the roads were so potholed that I kept knocked my head against the window and roof.
At one point a jumping snake flickers across the road. The scenery consists of sheer limestone peaks, rising out of the landscape like craggy headstones. The valleys dip sharply beneath us, exposing the hinterland. Driving through the cloud layer is like something out of a dream, the mist clinging to the tips of the fir trees like so much candyfloss. Then the driver starts blaring Laotian pop music at us. Dream over.
Phonsavan is a dusty one-street town, on first impression. I hunt for a guesthouse with wifi in room, so I can Skype finally (I promised about five days ago). The Jar cafe's room is clean, so I take it. There is even a small balcony outside my room. I fall straight asleep, feverish. At one point the room is full of people. I wake about three hours later, escaping my hallucinations. I get dinner in a place called 'Craters' - tasteful. The wifi password is "BBQ chicken". I spend most of the meal with my head in my hands, hoping the soup will miraculously cure me.
I return to my room for more sleep, which is when I realise my 'balcony' is an outdoor access corridor. People run by frequently, and some stop to make phone calls. My window does not close. The walls on the other sides are made of thin wood. Have to add these to the list of things to check in future. Then the wifi stops working while I am mid-Skype home. This is definitely the worst room I've ever staying in. Text Nora and Andrea to let them know our Skyping must be postponed again. Gah! If I had any energy, I would change hostel now. But even the thought of getting out of bed is too much. I think my body is in control of my mind now. The noise from the street outside is also incredibly loud. iPod in, sleep fitfully.
Random memory: I only forgot once, while driving the scooter in Ninh Binh, that I should be on the right-hand side of the road. Only once!
About five minutes after writing the above, I get on my bicycle and cycle off down the left-hand side of the road. Doh! Felt a bit better this morning - face still hurts, and an effort to move, but at least I can think clearly. Grab some breakfast, and see if I can book a tour. Only one fully day here, want to make the most of it, even in my befuddled state. No luck as a single person, so rent the crappiest mountain bike I have ever seen.
At one point a jumping snake flickers across the road. The scenery consists of sheer limestone peaks, rising out of the landscape like craggy headstones. The valleys dip sharply beneath us, exposing the hinterland. Driving through the cloud layer is like something out of a dream, the mist clinging to the tips of the fir trees like so much candyfloss. Then the driver starts blaring Laotian pop music at us. Dream over.
***
Phonsavan is a dusty one-street town, on first impression. I hunt for a guesthouse with wifi in room, so I can Skype finally (I promised about five days ago). The Jar cafe's room is clean, so I take it. There is even a small balcony outside my room. I fall straight asleep, feverish. At one point the room is full of people. I wake about three hours later, escaping my hallucinations. I get dinner in a place called 'Craters' - tasteful. The wifi password is "BBQ chicken". I spend most of the meal with my head in my hands, hoping the soup will miraculously cure me.
I return to my room for more sleep, which is when I realise my 'balcony' is an outdoor access corridor. People run by frequently, and some stop to make phone calls. My window does not close. The walls on the other sides are made of thin wood. Have to add these to the list of things to check in future. Then the wifi stops working while I am mid-Skype home. This is definitely the worst room I've ever staying in. Text Nora and Andrea to let them know our Skyping must be postponed again. Gah! If I had any energy, I would change hostel now. But even the thought of getting out of bed is too much. I think my body is in control of my mind now. The noise from the street outside is also incredibly loud. iPod in, sleep fitfully.
***
Random memory: I only forgot once, while driving the scooter in Ninh Binh, that I should be on the right-hand side of the road. Only once!
***
About five minutes after writing the above, I get on my bicycle and cycle off down the left-hand side of the road. Doh! Felt a bit better this morning - face still hurts, and an effort to move, but at least I can think clearly. Grab some breakfast, and see if I can book a tour. Only one fully day here, want to make the most of it, even in my befuddled state. No luck as a single person, so rent the crappiest mountain bike I have ever seen.
The roads are consistently dusty, though not badly surfaced. MTBing for 10km isn't much fun. I realise that I am dreading the return journey, that is a sign that I am clearly not well. Find Site 1 of the Plain of Jars without much difficulty. It's exactly what it says on the tin - a few clearings littered with these giant stone jars. Some have been swallowed partially by the ground, others are split into two or more pieces. It's quite an alien landscape. There can't have been any practical purpose, water collection would've been better beside a house. The archaeologist in me says ritualistic, but sure what else is there?
Wander around for a bit - can't go exploring because there's still the risk of UXO - unexploded ordnance. During the Vietnam War, Laos won the title of most bombed country in the world. In what is referred to as the 'Secret War', the USA bombed eastern Laos heavily, in a attempt to sever the HCM trail. Craters dot the PoJ site, and red/white markers demarcate the safe zones. In various places around town, safety posters warn children of the danger of playing with UXO.
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| Collection of UXO in an agency in the town |
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