Fun Trip in a Tuk-Tuk in the Funtok

Some of you may be familiar with my weird phobia about half-dead balloons, but probably only a few are aware of my shopping phobia---especially Marion, who did 99% of our shopping, and my kids, who remember me ringing them up on my mobile, seeking counselling to get through the weekly grocery gathering at Coles.

I really hate trolling up and down the aisles trying to recall the list I left at home, getting more and more depressed by the screaming children, the Miserable Meanderers, the dreadful smells of all those room deoderants, and the squeaking, intransigent shopping trolleys.

But shopping here is another kettle of odiferous dried fish altogether. Mostly I rely on my maid Me, who picks up what we need in the markets on her way in in the morning, or Sommay who goes with me to the Chinese market and bargains ferociously and works economic miracles without a shadow of guilt. Sometimes, Joy is sent out for something, but the other day he came back with, inexplicably, thirty eggs in a plastic bag, many of which arrived unbroken after a wobbly ride in his bike basket, so we don't usually ask him to do that sort of thing any more.

So this past weekend, Joy was left here and Sommay and I went to the Big Smoke--Vientiane, where 234,000 of the 5.5 million strong Lao population lives for a shopping trip. The real destination, however, was Thailand, just over the Mekong, where I needed to renew my visa, and where one goes for shopping---much cheaper, better selection of goods, actual shopping centres.....We very much needed a new router to try and improve our sporadic internet coverage, and the odd wine glass and what-not.

This is a fairly routine trip for most folks; a 40 minute flight, a couple of nights in town bracketing a dash over the Lao-Thai Friendship Bridge to Nong Khai and a 90 minute bus ride down to Udon Thani for the aforementioned shopping.

For Sommay, however, it was a huge, spine-tingling, ear-to-ear-grin moment in his life, as he'd never been to Vientiane, never been on an airplane and never been to Thailand.

It was a delight to watch his little face light up and his eyes dart about as he discovered all the fun things about airplanes, saw the world from the air and landed in the big city for the first time.

The traffic was a real eye-opener, and novelties like traffic lights, which he'd never seen, and he often lost his sense of direction completely which is very unlike him, but to me it's a small, flat, dreary town and I knew it well enough so we got around fine.

We found a centrally located guesthouse for $6 a night each, but soon discovered why it was so cheap. so we moved to a great place reccommended by our taxi driver. Only $9 each and wonderful!

But the real mission was the trip to Thailand, so we got to the bus station early for the 10:30 bus, very comfy, sailed along to the border, and then came to a grinding halt in the thick throng of fellow-border-crossers all trying to thread our way through the undermanned exit and entrance to the two countries. It took three and a half hours to do the 90 minute journey, but it was great seeing Sommay's happy face as we drove across the Mekong and he was suddenly an international traveller for the first time.

He was blown away by the merchandise on offer and by the prices as he scurried about buying various bits and pieces for friends a relatives in his village. I was over come by the sheer volume of goods, people, noise, and the fragrance of buttery coconut waffles being made and sold at several stands in the shopping centre, permeating everything with a golden miasma of toasty-brown cholesterol.

Anyway, we GOT the router and I got some speakers and a couple of tops and Sommay got his phones and it all took forever, so we were starving and decided, rashly, to eat before we ducked back to the bus station to book our bus trip back to Vientiane.

The food was great---BBQ duck, lovely veggies in oyster sauce---and the restaurant was one of those where some bright spark has decided to improve on a good thing and feature dancing waiters...Yes, suddenly the music hit a particularly peppy note and all the staff took up positions in the aisles and boogied away to a smart set of coordinated dance steps, while customers hoed into their steaming hotpots. It was halfway between charming and bizarre.

Less charming, however was the fact that we managed to get back to the bus station shortly after they had sold the last seat on the last bus, so we blinked a few times and asked for a taxi. This is where the adventure began.

The fellow yelled, no, he bellowed across the bus station to another guy who led us to a rank of tuk-tuks. It took a minute to realise he was serious. A tuk-tuk is a far cry from a taxi and great for pottering around town, being basically a three-wheeled motorcycle with covered seating attached to the back, but for a 60 kilometre run...

But, when the devil drives.... Actually, far from being a devil, the driver was a big cheerful solid-looking bloke who was willing, for just under $20 bucks, to drive us the 60-odd kilometres to the border and it was either that or walk....

So in we hopped, cheerfully thinking that it would be a bit of a lark, if a bit juddery. Until we looked in the direction we were headed and saw the blackest sky I've ever seen, getting blacker....

The driver pointed at the doomsday scene ahead and laughed and we joined in, but after the first 15 or twenty k's, it started. Just a fine spray at first, then a proper rain, followed by a deluge, a short period of fine mist and then back to pouring....

There is a roof on these vehicles and plastic curtains along the sides of the seating area, but they tended to flap uselessly under the onslaught of the rain, the splash from the larger vehicles and huge double-trailered trucks that hurtled past us in the dark.

Sommay got a good position right behind the driver and bore up stoically despite wearing only jeans and a T-shirt, so I had to do the same, with only a large plastic carrier bag to protect the side of me that faced the torrents.

At first it was actually refreshing and kind of fun, but gradually the water turned icy because of the speed we were travelling and began to trickle down my back, and I was, for the first time in the entire month I've been back in Asia, chilled to the bone. Also soaking wet.

I kept seeing road signs with the mileage, but soon decided to ignore them as it seemed to get longer between kilometres as we went along and even with only 16 ks to go, it wasn't a lot of comfort. Finally we slowed down as we got into Nong Khai, and it was at this point that we discovered that the driver had no idea how to ge to the bridge. After trundling down several dirt lanes and stopping to holler for directions from people sheltering under trees and roofs, he decided to follow the very obvious signs and we ended up at the bridge, feeling like refugees under the eerie orange halogen lights.

We slopped wetly through the routine of customs, departure, over the bridge, and then through the apply-for-a-visa and wait and then got through immigration and collapsed happily into a nice comfy minivan that took us, shivering in the air-con, the last 25 k into town and up and down several dark wet streets before we finally found our hotel and our nice warm showers and warm dry beds.

The next day was sightseeing and more shopping at a huge traditional market and at ITECC, a Lao style shopping mall, which was basically just a market but inside a brand new exhibition centre just outside of town. We got there after a lot of searching and adventures like running out of petrol on the lousy motorbike that we rented from the hotel and which Sommay distrusted deeply. You actually have to wear helmets in Vientiane so I had to do a lot of hollering in his ear to navigate , but it was a pretty good day, visiting the vast golden That Luang temple and the big lump of concrete that is Patuxai Arch with its fancy dancing fountains.

The best bit of the trip, beside watching the dear lad's delighted face, was getting home, where we celebrated with big bowls of noodles from our favourite (non-dog) restaurant across the road.