Meandering up the Mekong

I'm writing this in Vientiane, having just tried and failed to get Chinese visas (for some unknown reason they're not giving them out from today until the 22nd, even the embassy couldn't explain why), and we're probably going to be stuck in south east asia for the rest of our lives. Anyway the future is looking very uncertain, but here's a bit of the past.

April 18th - Siem Reap to Kulean. Crazy Cambodian poverty
We left Siem Reap nice and early, determined to stay on asphalt roads. It only took 17km before we changed our minds and took a dirt road shortcut. This was of much higher quality than the day before and we were soon back on a gorgeous quiet tarmac road heading towards Laos. Again we were shocked by the difference between Siem Reap and the rest of the country. Cambodia is the second poorest country in South East Asia, (second to Burma). Only 16% of the country have a toilet in their house, and only 14% have access to clean water. In Cambodia, 80% of the population earn less than one hundred dollars a month. Half earn less than fifty dollars a month. These are shocking stats. The road is lined with tiny huts that are people's houses, and they're selling warm drinks outside, with mattresses on the floor where they sleep. The children are often running these stalls whilst the parents are asleep. Although primary schools are meant to be free, many teachers refuse to teach unless they're bribed, and almost nobody in rural Cambodia can afford to pay the bribes which means the children don't go to school. At secondary school you pay per subject you study - so if you can only afford to take one subject, or zero subjects, then that's what you take. Government provided education ends at 11. It's impossible to climb out of the poverty cycle. Literally impossible. It's not about trying hard, or having "the motivation to succeed" (bloody tory bullshit) It's impossible. I have never felt so grateful for my incredible luck and privilege that I have done nothing in my life to deserve - except make it out of the womb. Rural Cambodia's shocked me more than any place I've been to so far. 

Outside one of these huts we met an Italian cyclist called Marco! Wearing as few clothes as possible to maximise the tan, with a big flag flying from his bike, and aviator sunglasses, his nationality was never in any doubt. We quickly got chatting and rode on together until the next town which had a guesthouse. This $3 room was not one of the nicest, but fine and we went out in search of food. After searching everywhere to no avail, we eventually found somebody who gave us some fried rice, and some "fresh" (Marco's word) beer. 

April 19th - Kulean to Unnamed place on highway 6. Marco salts his aubergines.
We'd agreed to leave at 6:30 the next morning. This was already a compromise between our early rising and Marco's more relaxed style. At 6:30 the next morning Marco started chopping up the ginger for his morning ginger tea. We eventually left in the burning heat of the day. Marco really is very good company so we didn't mind this too much. The landscape was changing from burning red dust to green rice paddies and rolling hills. The trees provided some shade which was nice. We had planned to wild camp but the whole country is built on an ants' nest and it was so hot that we decided against it. This meant we had to stop a little early. We decided to cook as we'd managed to buy some auberginey type things earlier that day. With our two tiny stoves we had to cook separately. We were absolutely starving and quickly got some oil on. Marco rubbed salt on his aubergines and declared he must wait for 30 minutes. We'd cooked in 30 minutes and to wait for hours and hours and hours whilst Marco got out his glass bottle of Italian olive oil. Ours was very delicious though, o who knows what Marco's was like.

April 20th - Unnamed place on highway 6 - Stung Treng. "Do you have ze espresso?"
We set off a bit closer to 6:30 this morning, only delayed by the infestation of ants. Serious big disaster. Have a look at our honey, which was sealed, inside a plastic bag, inside a pannier:

They definitely died happy, that's for sure.

They were all over every pannier, we both got loads of bites. Complete nightmare. Anyway eventually we left and set off towards Stung Treng. Marco was getting pretty desperate for an espresso (these Italians eyy). Obviously in rural cambodia this is not a thing (this didn't stop him asking anywhere that looked vaguely likely). We'd heard that Stung Treng was touristy and thought that might have been a good opportunity to satisfy his "thirst". Sadly not. The town was beautiful, set on the banks of the Mekong and we had a gorgeous sunset across the river, but there was no espresso to be found. Trip advisor recommended a restaurant and we went there, joined by Natalie, a British girl volunteering in Cambodia who was staying at the same guest house as us. It was quite a party really. The guesthouse was recommended by Toby and Laura, another British couple who we'd met on the road the day before, travelling in their landrover! It was really nice to speak some English again (even if it was very slowly for Marco's benefit), and the plus side of all this british interaction was that we found out about our upcoming general election! #binMayinJune #binMayinJune, http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/politics/should-not-vote-conservative-29-10303180, http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/how-to-stop-the-tories_uk_58f89312e4b0cb086d7e4de6

April 21st - Stung Treng to Don Det. Into Laos on a top heavy boat, with an emergency landing back in Cambodia.
We'd heard from Toby and Laura that the road into Laos was pretty bad, and bad it was. You wouldn't expect a road called "Auto Highway 1" to have such large sections of dirt. Lots of times we wondered if we were on the right road because there were no cars anywhere. Marco stopped regularly on his hunt for "fresh water". All the huts have cool boxes outside, and occasionally there are ice deliveries. Sadly there hadn't been one for a while, and most of the cool boxes were in the sun. As Nige would say, they were just boxes. Eventually we got to the border and paid our fee and a bribe and were allowed into Laos. We saw on the map that there was a ferry over to the islands so we could do a bit of island hopping. Marco confidently said that he thought it went "every hour". Honestly I have no idea how he made it this far without us. We got to where the boat was supposed to go and it turns out it was a sort of taxi service run by the locals. We dragged a man out of his hammock and he said he'd take us in a while... We had lunch which Mum and I were very excited about because we'd found some avocados in Stung Treng. Marco said he can only eat avocados "with ze mozzarella", which we hadn't managed to find in Stung Treng.. Soon we were loading the bikes on the boat and setting off. The boatman simply wheeled our bikes onto this incredibly narrow/shallow boat. I strenuously objected to the topheavy aspect of this system, but nobody else seemed to mind. Marco said "Ze weight is ze same whether the bags are on the bike or in the boat", as if I was a complete idiot Anyway after I'd got a promise from Mum to buy me a new macbook when mine went over the side, we set off. Metres in it was clear disaster was imminent as the boat was swinging crazily

. We were all counterbalancing and we just about managed to land again before all of our worldly possessions were lost forever in the Mekong. After we'd rearranged the luggage we set off and landed on the island, via a quick trip to see the dolpins. The Mekong dolphins are great, and there are only 80 of them left and they're dying off fast. This is mainly due to the new trend of fishing via explosives. The dolphins were so joyful and jumpy and it would be a real tragedy if there were none left in the Mekong.

After this we had a swim, which was FAB. Beautiful cold water and breathtaking views. Then cycled up the two islands to a guesthouse.

April 22nd - Don Det. Our first ever spontaneous rest day. 
We woke up, and decided we couldn't leave. With the mighty mekong 10m away from our little hut, and a room where the "towels smelt nice", we decided we needed a rest day. Marco sadly couldn't spend a day because his flight in Bangkok was pretty soon. We had breakfast and coffee together and then sent him off on his way. Don Det is definitely not an active island. There are no roads, only tracks for cycling but most people just seem to stay still. Almost everyone has a hammock.

Even the dogs lie down all the time. The most active activity on this island is to go tubing, where you float down the Mekong in a inner tube. We thought this sounded great, paid our 2 pounds and got our inner tubes. We'd opted for the "tour" option (to avoid walking) so got in a boat and were driven upstream. Mum said she hoped we weren't going too short a distance, which was probably a mistake. Hours and hours and hours later we were dumped by the side of the river, with simply a wave goodbye. We got in our tubes and set off. I was v v tense waiting for the roaring current to grab me and swoosh me to the largest waterfall in south east asia. The reality was very different. We were moving incredibly slowly. We wondered if we'd missed the stream and paddled across the river. Nothing. We started swimming home, waiting for the rush of water. Nothing. There were no boats around, no people... 3 hours later, and just before sunset, we finished swimming the three kilometres and could see our island. Suddenly we were grabbed by the current. Unable to swim against it, we watched Don Det get further and further away as we were rushed towards the largest waterfall in SE Asia. By this point we were both quite hysterical. Luckily we were rescued by a man in a boat and taken to shore. I felt really faint after our serious exertions in the burning sun, and had to have two ice creams. By this time it was dark and we were unable to do any of our other planned tourist activities. Nightmare.

Next time - Island hopping, illness, a lot of dirt, noodle soup and a man powered rope ferry #staytuned