Comings&Goings
Luang Prabang, Laos
Amy and I welcomed the chance finally to saddle up, break a sweat, and start the bike segment of our experience, although I hadn’t recalled that the trip’s brochure highlighted the many hills in this mountainous section of Laos. Joining a group of fourteen other bikers, hailing from both Canada and the US, we got our biking legs underneath us as we toured the area’s up and downs. I thought it very fortunate that Amy, as many of you know, had committed herself to an aggressive, albeit brief, training regimen back home and quickly found herself setting the pace for some of the steeper terrain.
Surrounded by hills and lush valleys, the city of Luang Prabang, especially the peninsula area, struck us as almost a seaside “Provincetown” type of location, but in this case overlooking both the fast flowing Mekong and Nae Khan Rivers, which intersected below the banks of where we stayed. We loved the French colonial influence too, most noticeable in the architecture and the food, the latter of which offered a nice blend of both Laos and French fusion cuisine. Luang Prabang also hosted some beautiful temples and vibrant market places. We learned too that just about anything with a pulse is considered edible in this part of the world.
Part of our thinking behind joining a bike group to see Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam was to lead us into more provincial territories, to meet some fun people, and to have access to guides experienced in all facets of SE Asia travel. To that end, we loved having two amazing, experienced, fun, and knowledgeable American leaders in Jenna Smith and Kevin Buddell who shared both their expertise and joie de Backroads throughout the trip. In each country a national guide would also join our group and, in our trip’s case, Choy, Sarom, and Hien only further enhanced our exposure to their respective countries. The greatest challenge for me in Laos, however, was trying to sit cross-legged, always a test to my hip flexors, in front of the holy Shamin as he bestowed a Baci blessing upon our group and appeared to select a longer than usual chanting narrative.
We also had our first float on the mighty Mekong River, “mother of water,” that would prove central to our journey and a reminder of the many civilizations which relied upon its powerful presence over time.
For the first time in our trip, we were also introduced to the thread of the United States’ war efforts in the 1960’s and the steady “carpet” bombing of Laos to curtail the flow of supplies, arms, soldiers, and – of course – Communism moving along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. As the trip progressed and we moved further south, our leaders would provide us with a more detailed historical context of the American War, as it is referred to in Vietnam.
Siem Reap, Cambodia
Following a short flight, we arrived in the kingdom of Cambodia to continue our biking along essentially flat terrain but with warmer temperatures and humid conditions. Known for some of the most beautiful ancient temples in the world, we spent two days exploring Angkor Wat (where we watched the sunrise) as well as Bayon and Ta Prohm Temples that were equally magnificent, especially since they had prevailed since before the 11th century. Of note, was a chance to ride along the defensive outer walls while being careful not to careen into a less than inviting moat surrounding the palace and temples.
Later, we ventured out into a more rural Cambodia, biking through villages and rice paddies, the latter of which were empty because of the dry season, a dusty and hot excursion for sure. Similar to other places along our route, the Cambodians exuded friendliness and warmth wherever we went.
We participated in yet another blessing at a Cambodian monastery, this one a water ceremony, where our group sat together on monastery steps for 10 minutes, while an especially efficient monk strategically threw ladles of cold water upon us. Just when I felt things might be coming to an end, again more chants and a few more dunkings for all.
We watched too with some amusement as a Cambodian man pulled his small car up to the steps so that both he AND his car could be blessed. When I asked our Cambodian guide, Sarom, if the Monk throws more water on eight cylinder cars than four cylinder ones, his delayed and somewhat confused response eventually turned to laughter.
Our Siem Reap visit closed on a sobering note as we visited a memorial that was the site of one of nearly 300 killing fields, places where Cambodian victims suffered from the Khmer Rouge and Pol Pot’s brutal campaign during the early 1970’s. We recalled the movie, The Killing Fields, from many years ago and felt both the magnitude and sadness as we observed the memorial.
Mekong Delta, Vietnam
We spent only one night in Phnom Penh, Cambodia’s capital, and then moved onto a boat, The Jayavarman (named after an ancient Cambodian King), where we would live for three nights as we floated down the Mekong River and into both Vietnam and the Mekong Delta area. I could not help but think of both Huck and Jim on the Mississippi in Twain’s classic novel and the lovely, slow, smooth, and almost timeless movement of life on a river. The Mekong’s running brown waters were a constant while the industry of life moved across its surface, transporting people, rice, produce, and who knows what else. There was always something to draw a traveler’s attention.
Our biking, however, would continue as we would “hop ship” at various points along the way, bike for part of the day, and then rejoin the boat further down the river, having experienced other novel encounters.
Another of my strongest impressions from biking time on the back roads included my sense of peoples’ collective hard work, ingenuity and pride surrounding their homes and workplace, which usually were one and the same.
As we passed through villages, we watched people ply their craft at homefront shops, surrounded by animals, children, grandparents and more. Just as often, someone was sweeping the area in front, or cooking a meal and feeding a child. While at times these lifestyles looked a bit chaotic to an outsider, I had a sense that they worked and, perhaps, the family units were even stronger because of the tradition. And as we biked, Laotians, Cambodians, and Vietnamese alike would wave warmly and offer a “Hello,” a refrain that would become an echo within the neighborhoods we traveled.
One element of the bike trip that was especially noteworthy were our many lunches along the way, either enjoying ethnic food from street vendors or joining together at a restaurant to eat family style and educate ourselves about the many local and often bold, flavorful tastes. After a little early trepidation, Amy was all in on the meals and pleasantly surprised and ultimately adventurous with her food, avoiding – as I recall – only the roasted Cambodian crickets.
Personally, I have come to love the many curries, coconut and constant Coriander that seemed to find its way into more than a few tasty broths.
One amusing anecdote that I will never forget included a conversation, again with Sarom, as I tried to explain the concept of catch and release fishing for sport. You can only imagine the difficulty this principle posed for someone who lives in culture which relies on eating what they catch. When Sarom finally and begrudgingly accepted this peculiar American pastime, he asked “But I still don’t quite understand how you catch the insect and then tie it to the end of your line.” At that point, I decided to move onto other topics.
#Amy’stakeonthings
Vietnam immediately smacked us in the face with its energy and vibrancy and smiles. As we set out on our first bike ride in Vietnam, our trip leaders taught us hello in Vietnamese “Xin Chao“, adding we would receive hellos from many. And we did: from all, as far as I could tell. As we rode our bikes through markets and rice fields, small villages and crazy (literally crazy) city streets, we waved back, answering the “Hellooo!’s” with our “Xin Chou!”. Our bike trip, to use a word we all agreed upon, had a perfect cadence to it, beginning quietly and gently in the rolling hills of Laos, moving easily to the warmth of Cambodia, and ending spectacularly with Vietnam – and, for Scott and me, the New Year in Saigon. On Monday morning, our last day in Southeast Asia, we woke at 6:00 am to watch the Superbowl in a rowdy local bar with new ex-pat friends, and ended our day on the rooftop of our our hotel, watching the New Year’s fireworks with a final Chúc mừng năm mới (Happy New Year!) to all our fellow travelers who have kept us company along the way. It’s been a wonderful three week journey on planes, scooters, bikes, boats, hot air balloons and feet, and now we are both looking forward to getting home, unpacking the suitcases and keeping the smiles in our memories.
Jenna on crossing a Vietnamese street
And Finally
While in Saigon on one of our last days, Amy and I did visit the Museum of War Remnants that reminded the two of us of our country’s painful and complicated relationship with Vietnam in the past. One photography exhibit, focusing on the work of embedded photographers from all nationalities who lost their lives covering the Vietnam war, was especially powerful, graphic and moving.
Lastly, the seemingly chaotic traffic patterns in the city both intrigued and fascinated us. Essentially, pedestrians have no rights, and very few rules seem to exist, especially for scooter traffic. Yet, there also appeared to be a constant, workable flow, almost like schools of fish entering and exiting the current, relying on instinct, but with a natural human civility, and a host of good faith as all moved forward together.
