Returning to the road after a break like Luang Prabang is cathartic. I think that period has been the best bit of the trip by a long way. I have memories that will last my life and stories that will carry on for some long time (thanks again Angels). But like everything one must move onto the next day. One can't live in the past no matter how much one would like to. Just like I can't live in the future. It is the here and now for me, one moment after the next. A rich tapestry with me slinging the weft and the waft or whatever that weaving term is. I am in control of my life at the moment and from the driving seat it looks pretty bloody good mate!
I left Luang Prabang at what turned out to be a respectable hour (at least an hour late). We loaded up our Minivan and I assumed the position in the front seat. Oh Caloo Calay frabjous joy. Comfort plus. A concept usually not known on South East Asian transport but found in spades here. Note to any traveller... Get the front seat in the minibus it's a gas!
Because of the comfort I immediately fell asleep and missed the first bit of the journey. This was Ok because when I did wake up I was confronted with views of very steep mountainsides that we seemed to be on top of. This went on for some time so I fell asleep again. When I rewoke I experienced a severe bout of Deja Vue. The country was so like the New Engalnd tablelands I had to pinch myself to proove that I was not dreaming. They have planted quite a lot of Eucalypt species and also cypress pine as well. The hills were rolling just like that around Armidale at home. The only difference was that instead of wheatfields there were rice paddys and instead of hereford cattle there was the local breed and water buffalo. This continued all the way to Phonsavan. The journey ended at the Minivan station in downtown Phonsavan surrounded by eager hustlers touting thier special hotels. I ended up staying in the first we visited. I was exhausted and did not want to argue. The room was clean cheap and had a TV .. bloody luxury.
The morning forced its way into my conciousness by rubbing the sun in my eyes. I staggered from bed and drew the curtain across the insistent glare. Breakfast was taken at the resteraunt across the street because the one in my hotel had no baguettes. I had a nice omelette sandwich and a lovely restorative coffee. I then bought my minivan ticket to Vientianne for the next day and hired a motorbike complete with helmet and not so helpful map. After an abortive try (bloody map) I managed to find my way out of Phonsavan and off to the Jars site #1.
The Jars are truely a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a mystery. There is no visible evidence that gives one any idea why or what they are for. The stone comes from a mountain about 40 to 50 Kms away. Some jars weigh up to 6 tonnes so they would have had a big time getting them to any of the 27 sites so far identified. There is no consistency in size, shape or arrangement. They lie there higgdy piggildy like some giant had got carried away with a wierd craft display. Site1 was my first expereince. One had to be careful where one walked. You had to stay between the MAG markers for want of being blown to pieces by UXO. Times like these make me really happy to see the demise of the US empire these days. I cheer when I hear of dead Americans in some foriegn war. One back for the good guys I say. Hey George, I don't support you you fucking prick so I must be the enemy mate. Come on you fucker I'll have you. Stand up and have a go ya mug!
Back to the Jars boy, calm down go back to green. Site 2 and 3 were just as interesting but a little different. Still hill top sites but not so many jars. Site 2 had a few more lids which was interesting as were the patterns on their tops. What was stunning though was the views. Tree clad hills and stunning paddy lined valleys. Beautiful.
The trip was fulfilled by a visit to a waterfall. An unexpected addition to the tour that I found. It was so like the falls at the Blue Holes outside of Armidale that I started to look for the turn off to Dorrigo. The run back to town was uneventful but the stop at the MAG offices in town was very interesting. I finished with a massage at the place next door for the people who have suffered from the UXO. It was painful but great.
Now for dinner and a good lie down in preparation for the trip to Vientianne tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment