Chris and I had just left the relaxation of the Gili islands, off the coast of Lombok, Indonesia, to embark on the second half of our Indonesian adventure. A day of travel left us back in Bali, and the next morning, we hopped on an early flight from Denpasar to Flores Island. More specifically, we landed in Labuan Bajo, the jumping-off point for tours of the legendary Komodo National Park, home of the world’s largest lizard: the Komodo dragon. Is it really a dragon, you might wonder? It does not breathe fire, but this apex predator is a gigantic, cannibalistic, killing machine and, with a max size of 3 meters, it is 100 percent worth a visit to this remote park.

Labaun Bajo:

Reaching Komodo National Park first requires a domestic flight from somewhere else in Indonesia. It’s a short ride, only a couple hours from Bali, to a small airport that lies within walking distance of the nearby capital town of Labuan Bajo. Labuan Bajo is known locally as the city of sunsets, and did we ever get some good ones! This fishing town is small and charming, with surprisingly developed roads and sidewalks. Tourism to Komodo Park has obviously brought in a lot of money. As we visited in the rainy season, the town was quiet enough (although last-minute accommodations were a bit tricky to find), but I imagine this little place can get hectic in peak season.

In addition to spotting the infamous Komodo dragon, our primary reason for visiting Komodo Park was to spend 4 days on a scuba diving live-aboard ship. We had spent hours and hours spreadsheeting to settle on a location, and finally picked a ship called the Amalia, operated by Uber Scuba, a local dive shop. As live-aboard dive trips can be pretty pricey, and this was a rare splurge in our travel budget, we were careful in our selection, and were absolutely not disappointed.

After our flight landed in the morning, we grabbed breakfast at an amazing little breakfast place, checked in for our diving trip, set to start the next morning, and explored the town.

Komodo National Park:

We embarked on the live-aboard ship Amalia on a bright morning from the Labuan Bajo harbour. One of Amalia’s two small tenders (a small boat that runs back and forth from a larger boat) picked us up from the dock and brought us aboard, where we received a delicious welcome-drink and snack as we listened to an orientation from the cruise director.

While Amalia can accommodate 11 clients, our group was only 7 people: Chris and I, 4 Germans, and 1 crazy Italian. We split into two dive groups, each led by a Divemaster. Everyone on the boat was very experienced – I was by far the least experienced. Diving in Komodo Park can be quite tricky due to incredibly strong currents. Divers should have at least Advanced Open Water certification, something like 20-30 dives under their belts, and some experience with currents. Komodo is situated at the confluence of the Indian and Pacific oceans, meaning the currents can be very intense throughout the day as the oceans drain into each other. To top things off, we visited the park during the full moon, which made the waters extra wild. But its location also means that the diversity of life is outstanding: Komodo is home to 25% of the world’s fish species, and 15% of its coral. The park is split into three zones: north, central, and south, and with vastly different diving conditions throughout, it means that excellent diving can be found year-round somewhere in the park.

Our experience aboard Amalia was absolutely amazing. Our two Divemasters and all the support staff on board (about 10 people!) were phenomenal. The dive briefings were informative, and our gear was set up and tanks refilled almost invisibly in the background. The boat, beautiful natural wood and teal, was kept squeaky clean and thoughtfully laid out for days at sea, and the non-stop food was wonderful. Some food highlights: fresh-baked bread, tropical fruits, fish curry, soto ayam (chicken soup), nasi goreng (fried rice), fried bananas with honey, banana cake, chocolate mousse, carrot cake, and daily fresh pressed juice. The cuisine was a mixture of Indonesian and western (we had some spaghetti and scrambled eggs with avocado toast), but all of it was freshly prepared on the boat by our tireless chef.

Chris and I had a private double cabin with its own bathroom. The bed was comfy, and the private bathroom with a small freshwater shower was exactly what I wanted after a long day of salty dives. While the boat is not air-conditioned (many live-aboards do have AC – Amalia chooses not to in order to avoid running a noisy generator all night), I was quite cool with the little window open and the above-bed fan going.

A typical day on the live-aboard started early, around 6 am. We would get up, have a light bite (toast, cereal, tea, coffee), listen to the morning dive brief, then be on the dive deck gearing up for 6:30 am. We’d hop into our two small tender boats from here, which would bring us directly over the dive site, where we’d enter the water. After a 50-60 minute dive, the tenders would pick us up and bring us back to Amalia. We’d take off our gear, and have breakfast on the main deck while driving to our next dive site. After a break, we’d get back in the water for dive 2. Another break, including lunch, would follow as we cruised the waters of the park, and then a third dive in the afternoon. Snacks and dinner would follow. We even did one night dive and one sunset dive.

While we saw many cool creatures under water, some the highlights included devil rays, tons of white-tip reef sharks, blue and yellow ribbon eels (fondly known as ‘derp’ eels), crocodile fish, giant green turtles, and one incredibly rare frog fish. The best creature by far, however, was the famous manta ray. With a ‘wing span’ of 4-7 meters, we were very keen to catch a glimpse of these gentle giants. Fortunately, we had arrived in Indonesia in manta season; these massive rays usually stay far below the surface where the water is cold, but at certain times of the year, they follow currents upward, and can be spotted hanging out at cleaning stations around 5 meters depth.

We saw most of our mantas at the dive site named, unsurprisingly, Manta Alley. We saw maybe half a dozen in total. They glided in gentle circles near the surface as fish came to clean them. We were able to plant ourselves in the sand and simply watch for a long time. They seemed curious about us too, coming quite close for a better look.

In total, we completed 12 dives over our 4-day trip. As we were completely immersed in diving, I learned an incredible amount, and got in the best diving I have ever experienced. While our best dive was probably in Manta Alley, hanging out with a couple mantas, half a dozen reef sharks, and a huge turtle, the most beautiful dive site was at Loh Sera, which was jam-packed with stunning red coral and brilliant tropical fish. But our most memorable and thrilling dive was definitely at Batu Bolong.

Batu Bolong is perhaps the most famous dive site in Komodo, and frequently makes lists of the best dive sites in the world. As a lonely rock pinnacle in the middle of two oceans playing tug-of-war, the reef-coated rock offers a feast for marine life, and consequently features astounding biodiversity and density. As we dropped into the water, however, we ran into the wildest current we had ever experienced. Just minutes into the dive, we were clinging to the rock for dear life, fighting against being swept away. As we had learned in our pre-dive briefing, currents at the edge of the rock were known to sweep down, pulling divers rapidly to potentially fatal depths, so remaining in position was critical. Even the sea creatures were struggling. I have never in my life seen a turtle move so fast to remain stationary, and a struggling reef shark, positioned about a foot in front of Chris, nearly hit him in the face in its effort to fight the current. We realized pretty quick that the situation was completely unmanageable; it was time to abort the dive.

But even as we clung to the rock, boulders the size of microwaves would break loose, ripping past the faces of other divers as they held on, but fortunately missing a full-on strike. Turning your head even slightly could result in a regulator being torn out of your mouth, and one of our group members nearly lost a fin (a lucky catch by another diver saved it). Then began a phenomenon we later referred to as ‘the washing machine’. The current began to flip direction. It would blast us horizontally for several minutes, then after a short lull, lasting only seconds, would suddenly blast us down, then up, then 180 degrees from start. Rapid adjustment of buoyancy and holds on the rock was required to keep from being torn loose. The constant switching, finding ourselves upside down frequently, made us feel like clothes on the spin cycle.

Our Divemaster signaled the intent to surface, and we began slowing clawing our way up the reef, stopping to wait out particularly strong swells of current, and moving only during the brief seconds of calm. We eventually made it up. Chris and I surfaced first, and endured a few tense minutes as the tender boat picked us up, waiting for the rest of our group to arrive. Happily, everyone surfaced shortly afterward. The ‘washing machine’ was the topic of conversation for the rest of the day however – a narrow miss to be re-lived, dissected, and analyzed. One of our Divemasters, an experienced instructor with literally thousands of dives under his belt, told us that, in 7 years of diving at Batu Bolong, had never seen it like that, and this was, in fact, the second craziest dive he had ever experienced (the first involved getting unexpectedly pulled to 60 meters depth and crashing through the ceiling of an underwater cave…).

In addition to incredible diving, the trip also included land-excursions to Komodo and Padar Islands. On our third day, we got the chance to disembark on Komodo Island itself, and meet the infamous Komodo dragons. We met a local guide at the park entrance, and he proceeded to tour us through the park, looking for lizards as we went.

As we walked through the park, we noticed that many trees were full of small holes near the top. Our guide informed us that the baby dragons lived up there. Komodo dragons are cannibals, and will eat their young (even their own!). In order to survive, the juveniles climb up trees and create holes in which to sleep, safe from the bulky adults who are now too heavy to climb. They are viscous and fascinating creatures.

In addition to a stop on Komodo Island, we also did a short hike on Padar Island. About 20 minutes of stairs lead to a lovely lookout where the famous shape and bays of Padar are clearly visible. Padar’s many beaches are interesting because they actually feature three different colours of sand: black, white, and pink. See if you can spot them in the photo below.

After 4 amazing days aboard Amalia, we were dropped off again at the harbour in Labuan Bajo. We spent a few more days hanging out in town, waiting for our flight back to Denpasar. Once back on the island of Bali, we had a few more days to kill until our next flight to Nepal. As time was tight, we decided to make a standard tourist stop and visit nearby Ubud, the cultural center of Bali.

Ubud, Bali:

While the white sand beaches of the islands were magical, there was something refreshing about being back in rainy, lush Bali. This island has its own colours: dense green jungle and the rusty orange sandstone of Hindu temples. We spent 4 days in Ubud, in the center of the island, exploring some of the famous sites, coffee shops, and trails.

One of my favourite stops in Ubud was a visit to the Monkey Forest, a park within walking distance of the downtown. The park features many pleasant walking trails, dozens of interesting statues and small temples, and over a thousand long-tailed macaques living in groups in different regions of the park. They are not shy, and their antics, plus the lush greenery of the park, are definitely a highlight of Ubud.

Ubud was the most touristy place we visited during our month in Indonesia, but during the off-season, it wasn’t uncomfortably busy. And I am a sucker for a good cafe, which Ubud had in spades; local coffee and coconut ice cream won me over pretty quick. While the food at the western places was overpriced and not great, we did have some really tasty, affordable meals at the Indonesian restaurants in town. I wouldn’t dare visit in the high season, but I’m glad we spent a bit of time here on our trip.

With our Indonesian visas now at an end, we set our sights to our next destination, what would be the final stop on the Year of Adventure: Nepal, and the towering mountains of the Himalayas. Save the best for last.

It was the end of January, and despite Chris’ best intentions to stay as far away from over-touristed destinations as he could, we somehow found ourselves in ground zero: Bali, Indonesia.

Bali is the most internationally famous travel destination of the 17 thousand islands that make up the nation of Indonesia. Its unique cultural identity – a Hindu oasis in a Muslim country – plus its fabulous beaches and friendly citizens have brought so much tourism to the island that it’s gotten completely out of hand. Backpackers, luxury travelers, and yoga & surf hippies have long made this laid-back island their number one travel choice; the level of westernization and English makes it an easy travel destination for foreigners to live comfortably as well. Unfortunately, this poor little island is struggling to manage the traffic and crowds. In fact, the epicenter of commercial tourism, Kuta, in south Bali, frequently tops lists of the worst places in the world in which to travel.

So how did we end up there? It was hotly debated. Indonesia was perhaps the country I was most excited to visit in Southeast Asia, but my original vision included copious amounts of sunshine, scuba diving in crystal clear blue waters, and hiking epic volcanoes above the clouds. But, as our time in Thailand expired, we realized that we had missed the dry season for the commonly travelled Indonesian Islands of Sumatra, Java, Bali, and Lombok. This meant, simply, that heavy rain may preclude volcano hikes, and stormy seasons may destroy all my hopes and dreams of diving with some legendary 40 meter visibility.

We spent some time debating instead whether to travel to the Philippines, which, along with the far east of Indonesia, is home to some of the best scuba diving in the world (and dry season in February). But, after debating the relative merits of each (the food, the amount of island-hopping flights required, etc.), we did eventually conclude that Indonesia in the rainy season was still worth some exploration. And as we found throughout our month-long trip, the cheaper prices and lack of crowds was well worth the occasional afternoon rain shower.

With diving still on the brain, we decided to make a bee-line straight for the hotspots that we’d read had adequate conditions in low-season. Our first stop was Amed, a small diving town on the north coast of the island of Bali.

Amed

Amed, and the neighbouring village of Tumbalen, boast the best scuba diving on Bali. As the beaches on the north coast are black and rocky, with more than a few rough waves, most tourists that aren’t into scuba give it a skip. We found the small town very charming, although very quiet in the low-season. Amed’s downtown is a single street full of warangs (local restaurants), cafes, hotels, and dive shops. There is also a huge French presence in Amed, with most of the dive shops offering dives and courses in French (I was never able to discover why French people seem to love Amed in particular!). Chris and I had to clarify repeatedly that we were English-Canadian, and not French-Canadian!

We stayed in Amed for about 4 days, and got out for a couple days of diving. The area is famous for its wreck diving, most notably the USAT Liberty, a massive WWII-era ship sunken about 10 meters off the coast of Tumbalen. The Liberty, a cargo ship, was damaged whilst at sea, and was able to limp to the beach, where it sat for years. However, seismic activity from the nearby Mt Agung, an active volcano, ended up pushing this ship fully into the ocean. These days, it’s the most popular wreck in Indonesia, and boasts a thriving marine eco-system.

In addition to our USAT Liberty dive, we dived a few deep walls, and one artificial reef site called ‘pyramids’ right off Amed Beach. The dives were fantastic: we saw four octopuses, a rare treat! We had been worried about poor visibility during the low season due to wind, rain, and storms, but visibility was fine (about 15 meters). While Amed can see up to 30 meter vis during the high-season, our dive shop informed us that the density of the marine life is actually lower in high-season due to the water temperature. We were content with our timing! Our dive centre, Abyss, even made a cool little video of us diving – check it out here.

Amed was our first experience in Indonesia, and we were blown away with how friendly the locals were, the excellence of their English (better even than Thailand), and the deliciousness of the food. The highlight? Getting a ride in a traditional outrigger boat, called a jukung, to the dive sites. These narrow boats fitted with two huge outriggers accommodate only four people, and you must put all your dive gear on once in the water to not upset the balance! And the rain? Yes, we got some huge rainstorms, but they occurred somewhat predictably in the afternoon, and only lasted for a few hours. A little rain for no crowds seemed like a fair deal.

Nusa Lembongan

After diving in Amed, our next stop on the diving itinerary was Nusa Lembongan, one of a set of three islands located just off the south coast of Bali. Lembongan, and the larger neighbouring island of Nusa Penida, is the busiest dive destination in Bali (or rather, just off the coast of Bali). And, similar to Amed, while low-season sometimes comes with lower visibility, it is also the best time of year to spot huge manta rays. And again, less crowds!

To reach Nusa Lembongan from Amed, we started by taking an incredibly rainy taxi ride south to the local ferry at the Kusamba pier. We were relieved that our boat ride was only 30 minutes, as the day had been stormy, and the water looked a bit choppy. As big waves seem to preclude a permanent dock, the ferry employees have come up with an entertaining temporary dock scheme: when the ferry is ready to depart, about 8 men roll large pieces of metal bridge down the beach and into the surf, and then assemble and hold this structure in place with their hands while passengers cross. Crossing of the bridge must be timed carefully with the waves however, which was very entertaining and only a little bit wet.

Nusa Lembongan was significantly more touristy than Amed, despite it being low-season. While we got an excellent deal on accommodation, food was very expensive. The restaurants, shops, and general vibe of the town was a lot blander than Amed, similar to all other tourist hot-spots. But what Nusa Lembongan lacked for in character, it made up for in delicious French pastries. We wisely chose to stay across the street from a truly excellent French bakery.

Our first mission in Nusa was to go diving. The vast majority of the dive sites in the area are located off the neighbouring island of Nusa Penida, and are split into a couple areas during rainy season: the north, featuring many drift dives and strong currents, but with reasonable visibility, and the south, which included the famous Manta Point dive site. We initially booked trips to both north and south, but as I came down with a bad cold at the beginning of our trip, we only ended up doing three dives in the north. Visibility was decent, and we saw some cool creatures, but it was nothing amazing. While Chris was initially bummed out to be missing Manta Point and his chance to see a manta ray, we heard later that visibility in the area was extremely poor (about 2 meters), so we probably would have seen absolutely nothing if we ended up going anyway.

Unfortunately, much of my time on Nusa Lembongan was spent in bed recovering from, firstly, the bad cold I had acquired, and then secondly, some unexpected back pain. Aside from some beach sunsets, a round of mini golf, and lots of fish barbeques, I didn’t get the chance to experience much of the island, but Chris was able to get out for a few runs to explore.

After about a week taking it easy on Nusa L, we packed our bags and hit the beach to catch a boat to our next island destination: Gili Air.

Gili Air

Gili Air is one of three small islands located just off the northwest coast of the island of Lombok, the neighbouring island to Bali. A three-hour ferry ride took us from Nusa Lembongan to Gili Air, and dropped off on a wave-battered dock on the small island. Of the three islands, Gili is the second largest. The largest, Gili Trawangan is the most developed, with a strong party reputation. Gili Meno, the smallest, apparently is a quiet, secluded, and somewhat romantic island, with not much going on. Gili Air, famous for its diving and snorkeling, lies somewhere in the middle in terms of atmosphere.

Still a small island, Gili Air only takes about 20-25 minutes to walk end to end. No gasoline-powered vehicles are present on the island; the primary mode of transportation, aside from walking, is bicycles and electric scooters. To move goods around, locals use horse-drawn carts. The entire island is bounded by beautiful beaches, as well as a perimeter path (some paved, some packed dirt, and some just sand!). While all the beaches were gorgeous, the waters can get a bit rough on some sides (especially the south where the ferry dock is located). We elected to stay in a cute bungalow house near the best beach in the northwest. This was also close to the some of the prime snorkeling sites.

While I’d enjoyed my time in Indonesia so far very much, Gili Air rapidly took the lead as my favourite spot. While missing some of the green and dripping jungles of wet Bali, as well as the striking grey and orange carved Hindu temples, Gili Air was bursting with island charm. It was quiet and relaxed, with a great mix of local and international restaurants. The locals were so friendly, and the lack of vehicle traffic noise made for a very relaxing stay. While, interestingly, there were zero dogs on the island, there were plenty of friendly cats, rabbits, chickens, cows, and horses. Chris enjoyed a number of early morning runs around the island perimeter trial, while I had some truly beautiful bike rides through the quiet streets, green farms, and sandy beach trails.

While a very laid back island, Gili Air was not without culture. As with everywhere in Indonesia outside of the island of Bali, the primary religion of Gili’s local population is Islam. As our first visit to a Muslim village, we enjoyed the novelty and striking melodies of the daily Call to Prayer. The Call to Prayer occurs five times throughout the day. It is a series of sung prayers that are broadcasted from the minaret of the local mosque, which summons worshipers to join in prayer. As Gili is so small, these can be heard across the island.

Our time on the island was mostly spent relaxing, exploring, and eating excellent Indonesian food. We spent most afternoons inside, hiding from the heavy rainstorms, but these would pass through and leave things dry by dinnertime. We laid on the beach, went snorkeling, and I even indulged myself with a hot stone massage and an afternoon at the hair salon. While we considered doing some diving, as there is a big scene on Gili Air, we decided against it. The conditions apparently weren’t amazing, and our snorkeling excursion confirmed what we’d heard: a lot of the corral near the island is dead due to the practice of dynamite fishing. While I think Gili Air used to be a great scuba destination within Indonesia (and perhaps still is at the right time of year), I got the impression that perhaps it was past its prime.

One of our most engaging activities was an Indonesian cooking class with a very friendly man called “Chef Hero”. Here, we learned about the basis of Indonesian food: bumbu paste. Bumbu is basically a mixture of a variety of ingredients (such as garlic, onions, ginger, turmeric, and galangal) ground into a thick paste, and used as the basis for classic dishes such as mie goreng (fried noodles), nasi goreng (fried rice), and curries. We even learned how to make the classic spicy sambal sauce – a salsa made with chilis that accompanies almost every Indonesian meal. In the end, we made waaaay too much to eat, and left with a few boxes of leftovers for later.

After our time in Gili Air, we booked a ferry back to Bali and bused back to the airport to prepare for the next leg of our Indonesian journey. After much, much, MUCH planning (there was a spreadsheet created and everything), we had booked a fancy scuba diving liveaboard trip in Komodo National Park, located off the coast of Flores Island to the east. We eagerly awaited our flight to Labuan Bajo, Flores, for our next adventure. Stay tuned!

After about 5 weeks in the north of Southeast Asia exploring both Thailand and Laos, the time had come to turn south. So far since our arrival in October, we’d explored Vietnam, Cambodia, Bangkok and northern Thailand, and Laos, completing something of a circle (or more of a spiral really). With the intent of eventually making our way further south to Indonesia, we booked a flight to Phuket, perhaps the busiest area of peninsular Thailand.

The plan was to spend about a month moving slowly and checking out the famous tropical beaches. While we found the logistics of travel to this area very tiring – we were traveling over the holiday season and into January, which meant everything was crazy busy and required lots of advance booking (no spontaneity allowed!) – this was offset by the bountiful white-sand beaches for relaxation. I also got to resume the new hobby I’d picked up in Cambodia: scuba diving.

Phuket

A short plane hop from northern Thailand deposited us in the balmy south just before the New Year. Our previous 5 weeks in the north had caused our hard-won tropical acclimatization to deteriorate however, and we were hit with a wave of heat and humidity as we boarded a shuttle bus outside of the Phuket airport. We arrived after dark in Patong Beach, one of many bustling beach towns along the coast.

Patong Beach is the largest, busiest, and most developed area of Phuket. While it is not perhaps somewhere Chris and I would normally be drawn to, we selected it for its renowned New Years Eve fireworks beach party, and figured it would be interesting to check out for a few days. Our impression after our three-day stay? Phuket is definitely the Las Vegas of Southeast Asia. It’s loud and busy, full of spectacle, luxury shops, fancy restaurants, and tourists getting a little too loose with Thailand’s liberal substance policies. That being said, I’m still glad we went to discover it.

Perhaps the most surprising discovery about Phuket was that it was absolutely jam-packed with Russians. It was a surprise to us, upon sitting down to dinner when we arrived in town, that the menu was written in Thai, English, and Russian. You hear Russian all over town, and there’s a slew of Russian-owned businesses that are drawing in even more Russian tourists. Their arrival in droves seems to be explained by the war in Ukraine; while western countries have sought to isolate Russia with sanctions, Thailand has welcomed them in an effort to boost tourism post-pandemic.

We found no shortage of shopping in Patong, including a modern new mall with western brands. We also found a little slice of Canadian culture.

We honestly weren’t floored by the food in Thailand. While this cuisine frequently enjoys rave reviews by folks around the world, by the time we hit south Thailand, we’d already had more than our share of pad thai, fried rice, curries, and rice (Cambodia and Laos have very similar food to Thailand also). Phuket presented this same westernized ‘fast-food’ style Thai menu, but at an extremely elevated price. We found lots of expensive chains as well, such as the uber-fancy Coffee Club.

Phuket, situated next to many prime scuba diving sites in the Andaman Ocean, is a hub for diving vacations. After stopping into a scuba shop for some info, we booked ourselves a fancy single-day boat diving tour to the Phi Phi Islands. Located about two hours off the coast of Phuket, Phi Phi is famous on social media for its pristine beaches and elaborate resorts. While we had decided that staying on the Phi Phi Islands was not for us (it’s a messy and expensive party scene for young adults apparently, and we were having a hard time imaging anywhere more expensive than Phuket…), we were happy to dive the Islands as a day-trip.

Our tour was scheduled for New Years Eve. A shuttle picked us up from Patong in the morning, and drove us across the peninsula to the harbour, where we met our Divemaster (guide) and dive group. We were shown onto the boat, where the crew proceeded to pack us full of food for the duration of the day. We did three dives, with all the intervals centered around delicious meals and snacks: a breakfast buffet, fresh fruit, a lunch buffet, snacks like spring rolls and french fries, and even an ice-cream bar. The dives themselves were fantastic: some of the most memorable sights include a massive green turtle, a tiny seahorse, a huge sting ray, and an elegant leopard shark that swam around with us. We even swam into a dark cave (a first for me).

The Phi Phi Islands dive trip was the fanciest diving experience I have ever had. It was by far the biggest boat, with plenty of good food. The crew and Divemasters completed all gear setup for us as well (unusual on smaller or cheaper trips), and the crew ran the whole operation like a well-oiled machine. The smoothness and quality, given the sheer volume of people on board, was outstanding.

Getting back into Patong after our dive trip was another matter however. The sun had now set, and everyone was now on the roads trying to get to their various New Years Eve festivities. It took a loooong time to get back to our hotel, and after a brief rest to try to marshal our remaining energy, we headed out into the chaos of New Years in Phuket. While Chris was still feeling sick from the stomach bug he acquired during Christmas in Laos, he rallied and managed to get out for a couple drinks.

We spent our evening on Patong Beach watching the skies. Fireworks are cheap and available, and are thus being set off constantly for hours. Additionally, lighting paper lanterns and sending them aloft into the sky is a popular tradition. The beach ambience – fireworks and hundreds of floating lanterns – is wonderful. We also got plenty of amusement from those tourists who failed to properly launch their lantern. The floppy lantern would limp and stutter just above the heads of the crowd, then burst into flames and plummet down before burning up. Fortunately, enough watchful eyes were present to call out warnings whenever a precarious lantern got too close.

In addition to the fireworks and lanterns, a stage was set up for a beach concert and countdown. We joined the countdown near midnight, but didn’t stay long afterwards, as we were quite tired from our early morning and day of diving.

Shouldering our way out of the dense crowd around the stage, we fought to make our way back towards Bangla road and the quieter streets beyond. Unbeknownst to us, this exact spot and date was a known problem to Phuket officials and residents: Chris and I soon found ourselves caught up in crowd crush. A crowd crush occurs when a dangerous density of people is reached in a confined space, leading to a loss of autonomy within the crowd, and potentially fatal consequences if individuals lose their footing and the crowd begins to ‘collapse’ (ie: fall down and get crushed). You may recall a recent media story about the tragic Halloween gathering in Seoul in 2022, in which 150 people died due to a crowd crush.

As the crowd continued to thicken around us, we couldn’t help but recall such stories. At first, it was just a vague association, but as the pressure continued to increase, and we began to seriously wonder if we were to be caught in a crush. Our progress was halted, and space dangerously limited, and we began to get caught up in ripples of movement as people started to get anxious and push. Barriers had for some reason been erected, which meant that we, and everyone with us, were increasingly powerless to escape. The air soon felt hot, stuffy, and thin. Standing on tip-toe was enough for me to grab a breath of fresh air, but other people lacking my height were not so fortunate.

A woman passed out somewhere near us in the crowd. Her panicked friends hoisted her onto their shoulders and aggressively began fighting through the solid mass of bodies, one of the young men with them screaming and on the verge of panic. Chris yelled at him repeatedly to calm down; the last thing any of us needed was for people to panic and begin shoving, which could lead to the entire crowd falling like dominoes. Just enough space was found to extract the unconscious woman, and slowly, the entire crowd inched forwards. We had no choice in the matter – movement occurred only as pressure ripples with that density of people. But slowly, we moved forward, and the barriers dropped away to deposit us on the street. While still crowded and tight, we had some freedom of movement back, and after a few more minutes of escaping the Bangla Rd area, we were back to normal levels of street traffic. With fireworks still blasting off in the distance as we walked back to our hotel, we were left to recount our stories of growing fear during the event, marvel at the poor management of the Phuket authorities, and appreciate that a major disaster had not taken place.

2024 was certainly off to an interesting start.

Ao Nang (Krabi)

After a loooong day of bus riding, we arrived late in Ao Nang, the famous beach town of the Krabi province (just east of Phuket). While still touristy, we found Ao Nang much quieter than Phuket, and with so many absolutely stunning beaches nearby, we could hardly blame others for flocking here in droves. Beyond the two land-accessible beaches in town (Ao Nang beach and Pai Plong beach), another three were just a short boat ride away: Railay, Tonsai, and Phra Nang beaches.

While we stayed in Ao Nang, we wished we were able to stay in the water-access village of Railay. As we visited in high-season in January, the limited accommodations there were already booked solid. We had to content ourselves with a day trip.

A walk through Railay leads to Phra Nang beach, arguably the best beach in Krabi. The beach, besides plenty of hot, white sand, features some cool rock climbing routes, a famous shrine, and a large cave for exploration known as the Bat Cave. Without having a ton of information, we set off to find and explore the Bat Cave.

Walking all the way down to the end of Phra Nang beach, we waded through the water with our backpacks (sometimes up to waist deep!) to reach what we thought might be the entrance. After a steep climb up, we we realized this was not the Bat Cave entrance. We did get some great photos however.

After climbing back down and wading back to the beach, we soon located a trail in the bushes at the end of the beach. Following this led us to a bunch of rock climbing routes, and climbed up eventually to the mouth of the Bat Cave.

Bat Cave itself was a fun adventure. It takes about 15 minutes to wander through. It’s pitch black, so you’ll need a light to hunt for the ladders which mark the way to a viewpoint opening at the top. We discovered once we arrived that this was also the top of a climbing route – many tours take folks through the cave to rappel down the climbing route and back to the beach.

As well as beach hopping, Ao Nang has all the other typical tourist beach town attractions: lots of restaurants, cocktails, and shopping. There is also a nightly fire show that I found unusually entertaining.

Koh Tao

Our final stop in Thailand was the small island of Koh Tao, located in the middle of the Gulf of Thailand. Koh Tao is a backpacker paradise, famous primarily for its scuba diving and beach party scenes (although not nearly as crazy as neighbouring Koh Phangan). What attracted us to Koh Tao was the promise of some of the cheapest scuba diving in the world, accompanied by a proliferation of dive shops focused on teaching; as diving is so cheap, many travel to take courses here, including multi-month courses such as Divemaster.

A short bus ride from Ao Nang, plus a 3 hour ferry, left us in Koh Tao. We stayed just up the hill from Sairee beach, which is the main hub of the island. The area is a little crazy, full of shops, restaurants, hotels, dive shops, and tourists zipping around on motorbikes.

As we intended to remain on Koh Tao for a few weeks, we had plenty of time for diving. I started off by taking the Advanced Open Water course, and followed this up with something like 6 more dives. The diving was very enjoyable – I saw some cool creatures and met some interesting travelers on the boat.

In addition to scuba diving, I also got out for a full-day snorkeling tour around the perimeter of Koh Tao. We stopped at Nang Yuan Island, Mango Bay, Hin Wong Bay, Aow Leuk Bay, and Shark Bay. The snorkeling was fantastic; many beautiful and healthy reefs lie just beneath the surface of the water. Visibility was great, and I saw a ton of colourful fish, as well as two giant green turtles.

My favourite stop of the tour, however, was Nang Yuan Island. This island is about a ten minute boat ride north of Sairee beach, and is the home of an iconic white sandbar bridge and a dive resort. The island was incredibly beautiful, with white sand beaches miraculously free of plastic (thanks to very strict rules on what visitors can bring to the island), and featured a little cafe restaurant perfect for a midday mango smoothie. A few snorkeling spots lie right off the beach, and there’s even a short viewpoint hike for some panoramic photos.

Overall, Koh Tao is exactly what I expected from a small island in Thailand. It was full of young backpackers living cheaply, sunset beach bars, all-night parties, yoga studios, Muay Thai gyms, and countless places for a dish of classic pad Thai noodles. Despite the busyness, I found it comfortable for a multi-week stay. While food and accommodation were some of the most expensive we’d encountered in Southeast Asia, life in Thailand is easy, as it’s one of the most Western places you can visit outside of the West. Love it or hate it, these tourist hot-spots in Thailand do not require that you step outside of your comfort zone.

All I had wanted from Thailand was beaches and scuba diving, and that’s exactly what I got. Was I done with either? Nope! Stay tuned for more beach adventures from Indonesia, the next country on our itinerary.

After nearly a week in the ‘big city’ of Luang Prabang, we decided to give up our extravagant coffees and return to the countryside. Nong Khiaw, a small town northeast of Luang Prabang, had caught my eye during our original research for a multi-day trek. After visiting Luang Namtha earlier in the month, we decided we were good on camping for a while, but the fabulous cliffs and reputedly wonderful views certainly still recommended Nong Khiaw as a worthwhile place to visit for some day hikes.

From our accommodation in Luang Prabang, we took a shuttle to the bus station, and then embarked on a packed mini-van ride to Nong Khiaw. The 4-hour ride felt a little slow; we got unlucky and ended up in some makeshift seats in the aisle, but at least we didn’t have to sit on the floor like one poor girl! In general, the ride was typical for Laos – a slow, winding plod through pot-holed mountain roads in a warm and windy van.

Nong Khiaw

We arrived in the quiet mountain town in the early afternoon. Our accommodation – an amazing hotel literally built on a floating platform on the river – was on the quiet, local side of town. A 15-minute walk to the other end of town confirmed two things: that the ‘tourist’ side was certainly busier than ours, and that Nong Khiaw was stunningly beautiful. Nestled among dramatic peaks amidst lush jungle greenery, a wide river cuts through this remote little outpost. A small town with mostly dirt roads occupies one bank, while a number of hotels have sprung up across a new-ish Chinese-funded bridge to meet the growing tourism demand on the other side of the river. In the hills, tucked in the gentle valleys between the peaks, are many small homesteads and farms.

The next morning, we were eager to explore some of the famous viewpoint hikes of Nong Khiaw. Picking what our google search indicated to be the hardest trail in the area – the Phar Kewlom lookout – we borrowed some incredibly horrible bikes from our hotel and biked about 3 km to the trailhead.

The trail was, as expected, hot, sweaty, steep, and short, although it was well-maintained. About an hour or so of jungle hiking, including a few bamboo ladder climbs, left us not at the peak, but at a platform built to create a viewpoint. The summit of the mountain was still a couple hundreds meters behind us, but no trail seemed to lead there, and with the possibility of encountering unexploded ordinance dropped by the USA during their bombing campaign of Laos in the 1960s-70s, we certainly were not going to step off-trail to explore. We contented ourselves with the lovely view from the platform while we had a snack and lots of water, trying desperately to cool off.

Our descent from the viewpoint was fairly quick – or else, would have been, had we not stopped to chat with a friend we’d met in northern Laos and randomly ran into again on this hike! Afterwards, we spent a relaxed afternoon at our beautiful river-side hotel. I gleefully stepped off the dock for a swim.

The next morning, I set off again for another hike. Chris, feeling a little unwell, stayed behind to rest, and I made it my mission to see how quickly I could complete the double viewpoint hike known as the Sleeping Lady. The Sleeping Lady trailhead was only a 5 minute walk from our hotel. While I’d read enough to know there were two viewpoints to visit, I knew almost nothing about either one.

I ended up at the upper viewpoint first (by randomly following a sign labelled ‘viewpoint 2’). It was great getting a view of our hike from the previous day, as well as the town from the opposite side. I charged down the steep trail and rapidly made for ‘viewpoint 1’, which I quickly discovered was located only 4 minutes from the junction. A quick descent left me at the bottom with a roundtrip time of about 1 hour 15 min. Not too bad for months of noodles, rich curries, and beer…

Our three-day stay in Nong Khiaw left us with the impression of a small, peaceful town not yet overrun with travelers, but with enough tourist infrastructure to make for an interesting visit. We enjoyed many of the local restaurants (although there are a few western restaurants, which we avoided). There are also lots of activities to stay occupied. While I’m sure the majority who visit set up at least one tour with the many tour companies, we were content to hike, relax by the river, and eat for our short stay, especially since we’d already done a similar tour in Luang Namtha in the north. I very much enjoyed Nong Khiaw and its small town vibe, and thought it was one of the most beautiful places we’d visited yet in Asia. (It reminded me a little of the town of Squamish back home, actually.) Also, the shops in town make simply the best mango smoothie in existence.

After our stay in Nong Khiaw, we booked a bus back to Luang Prabang. From here, we got a ride to the train station, and again hopped on the Chinese-run LCR to get to our next destination: Vang Vieng.

Vang Vieng

Our last major stop in Laos was the town of Vang Vieng, previously famous for its wild river tubing party scene. After a number of unfortunate tourist deaths (drugs, alcohol, and water don’t mix well), the government has cracked down on the indiscriminate partying. We visited the town amidst its attempt to reinvent itself and discover its new place in Lao tourism. We also intended to spend Christmas there, and were hopeful that we’d be able to find at least a modicum of holiday spirit, as well as a nice roast-style holiday dinner somewhere.

Aside from its former party scene, Vang Vieng is famous as an adventure town. Tours abound here: cycling, kayaking, rock climbing, paramotoring (like paragliding, but with a motor – more on this below), cave exploration, swimming holes, dune buggies, hiking, and of course, river tubing, are some of the activities that can be done here, all set amidst a striking landscape of farms and sharp peaks.

One our first day in Vang Vieng, we rented a motorbike and headed out into the country for a hike, as well as to check out one of the famous Blue Lagoons. While we usually each ride our own bike, I decided to hop on the back of Chris’ bike to save some cash on the rental. I soon realized how poor a choice this was, for I soon encountered Death Bridge.

What, you might ask, is Death Bridge? Death Bridge is the most shameful excuse for a water-crossing structure I have ever encountered in my life, and one that, funnily enough, is the only convenient way out of downtown Vang Vieng into the valley where most of the recreation lies. It is a series of two wooden skeletons of bridges, full of gaping holes clumsily spanned by loose wooden boards and ready to eat up motorbike tires. Death Bridge is immediately followed by a horribly loose and rocky road that could topple inexperienced riders in a second. I generally dislike riding on the back of a bike (it’s waaaay scarier than just driving you own!), and this “bridge” made all my nightmares come true.

This certainly wasn’t our first time on the bikes in Southeast Asia though, and Chris did an admirable job dodging walking tourists, other motorbikes, loose boards, huge holes, and the odd car that somehow squeezed itself onto that bridge, and we made it across and down the rocky ramp unscathed.

A quick drive further led us to the Pha Ngern viewpoint hike, a short and mostly shaded hike with two viewpoints. The first comes with many great spots for photo-ops: a laotian flag is ready for waving, and a buggy cart somehow made its way up there as well. The second viewpoint trail was nearly deserted – we had it almost entirely to ourselves, which was a lovely break after the tour-group-craziness of the first.

After our hike at Pha Ngern, we took a quiet and scenic drive through country roads to reach Blue Lagoon 3. Vang Vieng has a number of these ultra-blue swimming holes – I believe there are Blue Lagoons numbered 1 through 6. Each has its own special character. We selected Blue Lagoon 3 for our visit as we’d read that it was relatively quiet, had a number of fun swimming structures, and came with a cave! While we didn’t end up swimming – the lagoon gets a lot of shade, and it ended up being shockingly cold – we did really enjoy watching guys launch themselves off the rope swing (we even witnessed one guy breaking the rope swing). We also very much enjoyed exploring the nearby cave.

A short walk and climb past the lagoon leads to the entrance to the cave. You must descend down a ladder into pitch black darkness. A light is a must. While we meant to bring our headlamps, we forgot them, but we actually made due, albeit awkwardly, with our phone lights. There are no directions provided once in the cave, but the object is to find two underground lagoons for swimming (if you’re brave enough to get in them!). The adventure comes from wandering around in the dark and trying to find the correct passage to proceed through the cave. While it seemed a little crazy at the time (could we get lost and never find our way out!?), now that we’ve been through, it turned out that it really was easy. There was really only one way to go (ie: no extraneous passages in which to get lost). By looking for and following the numerous wooden ladders that have been placed to aid passage, you can’t go too wrong.

We eventually stumbled across both of the lagoons (which were found by throwing pebbles over the edge of drop-offs into inky black nothingness and listening for the sound of them striking water), but it turns out we were not brave enough to dare the black water. I’m pretty sure monsters live in there.

After the cave, we hopped on our motorbike and headed back to town.

However, our final challenge of the day was still before us: the re-crossing of Death Bridge. At the entrance to the bridge, we were forced to wait nearly 10 minutes; a couple trucks were dumping dirt on the rocky ramp leading to the bridge in an effort to make it less horrible. As soon as a small space opened up between the work, the locals waiting around us all hopped on their bikes and made a dash for the bridge. Chris was behind them.

I think the fresh dirt on the ramp made it worse, although maybe less bumpy. The series of bridges were as terrible as ever, and I held my breath as I clung to the bike, trying my best to be an inert sack of potatoes and not upset the balance. Bridge one, down, bridge two, down…. but wait! Due to the construction, a gate had been thrown across the entrance on the far side, preventing any cars from driving onto the bridge. “Duck!” yelled Chris excitedly, as we blasted straight for the gate. If we kept to the far right and got low, there might be just enough space for us to pass underneath. We blasted through and managed to duck at precisely the right moment, whopping exultantly on the other side. Although at this moment of celebration, a truck tried to back up into us in an attempt to park. Nothing could dampen Chris’ high at his successful completion of Death Bridge and Decapitation Gate, so he deftly dodged the truck, and in one more minute, we were hopping off the bike and handing the keys back to the guy at the rental agency. Not today, Death Bridge.

One of the most charming things about Vang Vieng is the numerous hot air balloons drifting over town. Groups of balloons take off every sunrise and sunset, and there is nothing so enjoyable as grabbing a beer on a riverside patio and watching the balloons float gracefully into the sky with the sunset.

During our time in Vang Vieng, Christmas came and went. While the town itself isn’t particularly western – there aren’t many Christmas decorations, and not much in the way of parties or festivities – we were able to find an excellent roast dinner at the local Irish pub (as every town seems to have an Irish pub). It was exactly what we needed: juicy roasted chicken covered in gravy, and served with very homemade tasting mashed potatoes and veggies, and of course a glass of wine.

On Christmas Day, we signed up for one of our favourite activities: rock climbing. While Laos’ trademark limestone made for some cool climbing features, we found the combination of very polished stone (due to the high traffic of the tour groups), squishy rental shoes, and generally overhanging routes to be incredibly difficult.

Unfortunately, Christmas night was a little rough for Chris, who came down with some of horrible food poisoning. Our next few days were pretty quiet as he tried to recover. On our last morning in Vang Vieng however, I had booked an action-packed send-off: a paramotor tour. Inspired by the hot air balloons gracefully floating around town, and disappointed that the rides were sold out weeks in advance, I decided to try a more adventurous air adventure. Paramotoring is pretty much like paragliding, except instead of jumping off something tall to gracefully sail back down, both the ascent and the descent are managed by a little motorized cart attached to the parachute.

At sunrise, I stood in the yard of the paramotor company and geared up for my flight. My guide gave me an extra jacket to wear, plus gloves and a buff to shield my face from the chilly morning wind. It gets surprisingly cold in Laos in December, especially as you sail through the air. For communication, I got a helmet with integrated headphones and a radio. He also gave me a selfie-stick to connect to my phone for photos. With all this prepared, I was buckled into the cart in front of my pilot, and off we went!

The take-off was incredibly smooth. The paramotor gently moves down the grass runway, gaining speed, and at some point, the parachute gets enough lift to pull us into the air. The ride was not bumpy or scary at all. In fact, it’s far gentler than a plane taking off or landing. Once airborne, the ride remained smooth. As someone who engages in a large amount of fairly extreme sports, I have to say, I found nothing about the ride nerve-wracking or scary. It was very calm and peaceful.

Landing the paramotor was just as gentle as taking off had been. Overall, it was a very cool experience – everyone at the company was wonderful and I had full confidence in their abilities and safety procedures, and I got some amazing and unique views of a very beautiful place. The ride was definitely cold, despite all my extra layers, but very much worth it, although I found it to be more relaxing than thrilling.

With a new fringe-sport experience now under my belt, Chris and I packed our bags later that morning and caught a local bus to Vientiane.

Vientiane

Our final few days in Laos were spent in its capital city, Vientiane. While many travel blogs, and even others we’d asked, recommending skipping Vientiane entirely, I enjoyed the city a lot more than I thought I would. We didn’t specifically intend to visit Vientiane, but ended up staying a few nights anyway as it was a logical place to stop as we traveled back to the Thai border to catch a flight out of the international airport in Udon Thani. Vientiane, the seat of government, and the most modern and developed city in the country, gets a bad rap as a city with nothing to do, but I enjoyed the contrast with the rest of Laos, and appreciated the food scene, which was not unlike any other capital city around the world; the meals we had here were among the best we had in the country.

To reach Vientiane from Vang Vieng, there are a few options. The Laos-China railway is just a short ride away, but as a new expressway for vehicles was recently built, offering a straight, fast, and hopefully well-paved ride, we elected to save a few bucks and take the bus. A short-ish ride (about two hours) left us at the bus station in Vientiane. We were surprised to note that, aside from some of the bigger highways, most of the roads just outside of downtown Vientiane were dirt and not paved.

Vientiane, as a government town, is full of French – it’s on signs, it’s spoken by both expats and many native Laotians, and it’s represented in about half the restaurants downtown. Never have I witnessed such a concentration of fine French dining, French bakeries, and French coffee shops. Needless to say, we ate well here.

On the morning of our last day in Laos we walked to the local bus station and caught a bus to the Thai border. Here, we engaged in a weirdly rushed crossing (everyone was anxious that we move fast for some reason!), then returned to the bus for the hour-long drive to Udon Thani. From here, we then taxied to the airport and settled in for a very long wait for our flight to our next destination: Phuket, in south Thailand, a place renowned for its fireworks-filled New Years Eve beach celebration. Goodbye to 2023, and here’s to a tropical New Year!

Luang Namtha

An unfortunate reality of long-term travel is managing your budget; you can’t do every single tour, trek, zipline, or amusement park that you stumble across. You’ve got to be strategic and spend your money where it counts. But as we researched trekking from our hotel in Chiang Mai in northern Thailand, a place renowned for its trekking, we were faced with a bit of sticker shock. Thailand sees a ton of tourist traffic, and that’s reflected in the prices. Luckily, right next door to Thailand, we found the perfect solution: a small town named Luang Namtha in neighbouring Laos. This town is home to about a dozen tour agencies running treks through the jungle. A three-day trek, including camping and a homestay in a local village, would run us a grand total of $80 each (vs $250 in Thailand). We were sold.

Departing from Chiang Rai in early December, we took a series of buses and shuttles over the Laos-Thailand border along comically horrible roads through the hills, finally landing in Luang Namtha (it took me about three days to realize the name of the town is pronounced “Long Nam Ta”). The town itself is pretty small and not very touristy. With only a handful of hotels and not much English, it was a sharp contrast to bustling, commercial Thailand. We spent a day visiting various tour agencies (we settled on a company called The Hiker) and arranging our trip, then headed off the next morning in a group of eleven (consisting of four Dutch couples/friends, two solo female travelers, and one solo American, plus our two friendly guides) for the jungle.

Day one of our trek started off about 45 minutes outside of town, in a flat, open rice field, full of hot sunshine, low clouds, and plenty of cute farm animals. But we soon found ourselves in the shady and humid jungle of the Nam Ta Protected Area, crossing small streams and heading up steep, muddy embankments beside waterfalls. The hiking was hot and occasionally steep, but we soon arrived at our lunch stop, a lovely viewpoint looking out over Luang Namtha. Here, we were met by some ladies from the nearby village who prepared some amazing fish over the fire for us. We ate it with assorted vegetables and plenty of sticky rice, on a rustic wooden table overlaid with large banana leaves. In the local style, we ate everything with our hands.

After some more hiking, we arrived in our camp around 3 pm. The camp consisted of a couple small huts (one for sleeping, and one for cooking), plus a table, a fire pit, and a small stream. After a lazy afternoon, we enjoyed a dinner of pork, bamboo soup, tomato salsa, more veggies, and of course more sticky rice, followed by several shots around the table of ‘happy water’, also known as Lao whiskey (which is actually a high-alcohol rice wine).

After dinner, we ventured out on a short night walk into the nearby jungle, but we didn’t see a lot: many spiders, a praying mantis, a small frog, and a mouse were some highlights, but nothing big. After some chatting around the campfire, we went to sleep. While Chris and I camp a lot (we spent four months living in a tent earlier this year), and are used to some uncomfortable nights in the wild, this was perhaps the most minimalist sleep set-up I’ve ever had: a bamboo platform with just a thin straw mat, plus a sleeping bag and a mosquito net, and no pillow. I get cold pretty easily, so was a little chilly, but made it through well enough.

Day two started off with a breakfast of fried rice before we hit the trail again. The second day of hiking was pretty similar to the first, although with a little more bushwacking, and a long stop to whip huge pomelo fruits at other pomelos still high up in the trees (surprisingly amusing). We arrived in our home for the night – a traditional Lao village – around 2:30 pm. After going for a swim in the river, we took a tour around the village in the evening, taking turns to cross a hilariously sketchy bamboo bridge (although bridge is a generous term).

We also got to witness some of the young men and teenagers playing rattanball – a favourite pass time here. Rattanball is basically volleyball played with a small ball made of rattan, except that no hands are allowed. The men used a combination of feet, knees, and headbutts to send the small ball back and forth across the net. I could see the soccer influences as the participants deftly used their feet to control and launch the ball. At one point, the rattan ball flew directly at us as we watched from the sidelines, and Chris (a veteran soccer player) expertly sent the ball back across the net, scoring a winning point (much to the team’s surprise)!

After dinner, we gathered around a fire and watched a show put on by the village children. They showcased their traditional dancing in costume, accompanied by some less-than-traditional music; at one point, there was an electric guitar, and we even heard a modern Laos tourism song with some English. The dancing was very cute, and they even got us to join in a few times in a big circle around the fire, which was slightly awkward and very fun. The show ended, and the kids put on their favourite electronic dance music, sharply out of place in this rustic village, but it set the tone nicely for a fire-side dance party – perhaps my favourite moment of the entire trek. After playing a few fireside games with my trekking companions, it was time for bed in a significantly more comfortable bed than the previous night. This time, we had some squishy mats and pillows in our bamboo loft.

On the morning of the final day, after a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs, rice, and instant coffee (we were all just so thankful for caffeine at that point!), we spent a bit more time exploring the village and its culture, which included admiring the many cute animals (puppies, cats, ducks, and chickens). We toured the town again, saw the school, learned about daily life of the villagers, practiced pounding rice with some of the local ladies, and got a chance for target practice with some small hunting crossbows.

Afterwards, we set out for our final day of trekking. The trail started flat, with a short and hot uphill to our lunch spot (eggplant, potatoes and carrots, fried green, pork, and rice). After only another hour of hiking, we reached the road and pickup spot. A 45-minute drive left us back in town for about 2:30 pm.

Our trek through the jungles of Luang Namtha was incredibly enjoyable. Some of my favourite memories include getting to know the other travelers on our trek, the fireside dancing with the villagers and other tourists, the recurrent singing of the Indiana Jones theme song, the night walk, the happy water with dinner, watching the village puppies playing together, spotting a blue bumblebee (what?!), and the death-defying bamboo bridge in the village.

After the rawness of the jungle and the simple, small-town life in Luang Namtha, I’ll confess that I was very excited for some modern comforts in our next destination: Luang Prabang, perhaps the most famous city in Laos. Luang Prabang’s French-inspired downtown next to the massive Meekong river is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The streets are full of bright and colourful colonial buildings, and its long relationship with France has left the city packed with cafes and pastry shops. While many of the places we’d visited so far in South-East Asia are former French colonies (French Proctorates), the relationship is often faded and subtle; not so in Laos, and especially not in Luang Prabang. French is still the language of government in the country, with many older citizens still speaking it fluently, and encountering the many bilingual government signs (Laotian and French) across the country reminded us bizarrely of our home in Canada.

The Laos-China Railway

To reach Luang Prabang from Luang Namtha, we took a bus to the site of another interesting cultural collision: the Laos-China Railway (LCR). The LCR is a contentious topic in Laos. Connecting the Yunnan province of south-China to a brand new high-speed rail line that traverses the north of Laos down to the capital of Vientiane, the rail line is expected to produce a boom in economic opportunities. However, the economic impact for the average citizen, as well as those in surrounding communities, is mixed, as the LCR employs only Chinese citizens for its operations in Laos. In fact, local communities were not at all consulted when the line was built through their homes. Such a huge project came with a large price tag too, and China was more than happy to lend Laos the money. The surge in foreign debt has contributed to high inflation and a depreciating currency. While we didn’t get the opportunity to discover what the Laotians thought of the LCR, we knew that other travelers had similar misgivings as us about supporting the rail line and China’s economic hegemony in the region.

Laotian transportation is a study in extremes. As Laos is the least developed country in the region, its road network leaves much to be desired. ‘Buses’ in Laos are actually mini-vans, and these will be packed to maximum capacity, with people even sitting in the aisles and on the floor. The roads are slow going: they wind torturously around the many mountains, and they can never pick up speed due to the many potholes and severe sections of road damage. Due to the sheer painfulness of some of the bus routes, we did elect to ride the LCR a few times, and were able to witness first-hand the highly modern operation run to Chinese efficiency standards. And boy are they efficient. From the airport-style security checks, to queuing at the platform gates, to the actual train departure, everything runs accurate to the minute.

Riding the LCR did give us the opportunity to better understand Laos and its geopolitical relationships. We were surprised by exactly how Chinese the operation was – case in point, the snack shop in the train station sold only food and drinks imported from China, and displayed prices in Chinese Yuen, not Laotian Kip. But as far as travel goes, navigating the station was easy, the ride was unbelieveably smooth (at 150 km/hour!), and the view out the window of the quiet countryside and stunning limestone cliffs nothing short of jaw-dropping (when we weren’t barrelling through one of the hundreds of tunnels, that is). Overall, what should have been a 7-hour bus ride from Natuey to Luang Prabang ended up being an hour-fifteen train ride. After months of travel being synonymous with long bus rides, it felt almost surreal to be stepping off the train in Luang Prabang after so short an interval.

Luang Prabang

We arrived in downtown Luang Prabang near sundown, after a 20-minute shuttle ride from the train station. After noting some recommendations from Keagan, the solo American we had met on our Luang Namtha jungle trek (who had coincidentally booked the exact same train as us), we wandered the streets to find an available hotel. Fortunately, the downtown is not big – only about 1.5 km from end to end – and is full of guesthouses, restaurants, and shops. After lots of travel and a quick pace through the towns of northern Thailand, we were eager to slow down, so we booked a nice guesthouse for 6 days and settled in to enjoy the city comforts at a slow pace.

We spent most of our time in Luang Prabang slowly exploring. The streets are full of character, and there were many excellent cafes and bakeries to occupy an afternoon. As we visited mid-December, I was excited to find a number of Christmas decorations up as well, even though the heat and humidity made it feel more like July. The historic center is packed with temples, and in the evening, this area comes alive with a large night market. Hundreds of stalls sell all the standard tourist souvenirs, and a huge street food market, featuring the famous Beer Lao on tap, was a nice place to spend the evening (if you can find an empty table, that is!). The morning market, a much more local experience, was worth a visit too for a cheap, local breakfast (rice noodle soup, a staple food for every meal in Laos).

Our biggest excursion during our week in Luang Prabang was a motorbike trip to the famous Kuang Si falls, a set of tiered turquoise waterfalls next to a bear sanctuary. We found a pretty pink motorbike for rent in town, and set off in the morning, trying to beat the worst of the tourist buses that monopolize the falls after lunch. The ride was about an hour on the best road we had encountered so far in Laos (that’s those tourist dollars at work, I suppose). Once at the falls, we elected to walk about 20 minutes up the hill to the falls entrance (there is a shuttle, but, you know, exercise…).

Before beginning the falls trails, we took a walk through the adjacent bear sanctuary. This organization is dedicated to rescuing and caring for previously captive bears being exploited as part of a number of illegal industries. They can not be released back into the wild unfortunately, but are given a comfortable life in the sanctuary. The bears we witnessed were sun bears – black with a distinctive white chevron on their bodies, and a little smaller than our Canadian black bears. I was thrilled to see them.

We spent some time walking the various Kuang Si falls trails, stopping for photos, but not for any swimming, as we heard the water is surprisingly cold. Past the largest of the falls, we hiked up a short and steep trail to the pools up top and explored the mangrove forest for a while in relative quiet, as not many tourists attempt the hike. After soaking up the cool colours, we headed back to our bike and headed off for our lunch spot: a little restaurant on the riverbank with an unbeatable view of the Meekong river.

After some relaxing days in Luang Prabang, it was time to continue our journey through Laos. Our next stop? Back to small town life in Nong Khiaw, an outdoor paradise. More to come!

The Cambodia – Thailand Border

In our modern world, online reviews are a bit of a double-edged sword. During our travels, they’ve been an invaluable tool to answer logistical questions, such as bus ride conditions, but they can also curse you with too much knowledge – things you perhaps didn’t want to know. Such was the case as we made our way from Battambang, Cambodia, to Bangkok, Thailand, and to what I had decided to call “the bad border”. Of the numerous border crossings into Thailand, our shuttle bus was headed straight for the one with hundreds of online comments documenting the “border from hell” – three hour wait times in a small, non-air conditioned room, with one grumpy official sorting through hundreds upon hundreds of foreigners’ passports. And now that I’ve been through it, I can confirm: that is exactly what it’s like. While we foolishly picked a weekend to cross, and so got stuck in a massive crush of travelers, there was only a single border official available to process us, and we did wait in line for three hours.

After the exhausting border crossing, we loaded into a mini-van from the 1970’s and embarked on a five-hour drive into the center of Bangkok.

Bangkok

Arriving after dark in big cities is a lot of fun. The huge buildings, elaborate lights, and vibrant night life as people grab dinner, meet friends, or head home after work is a treat to see, and usually provides me with a jolt of energy after a long trip. My first impression of Bangkok – a city I had expected to be a chaotic collision of Asian culture and city frenzy – was significantly more tame than I expected. Drivers were calm and respectful, and the thousands of motorbikes usually crawling the sidewalks and shoulders of big Vietnamese roads were replaced mostly by cars neatly staying in their own lanes.

In order to recreate Chris’ childhood, we elected to stay near the ultra-famous Khao San Road, known for decades as the center of backpacking culture in Asia. Chris had passed through here as a child with his family on a long trip to Myanmar, and was eager to see the area again. We had reports, however, that Khao San was nothing like it used to be.

Every travel destination goes through phases. First, they start undiscovered to the rest of the world, with no tourist infrastructure. Some adventurous travelers find something they love, then some tour companies move in, some English-speaking restaurants, some shops. When travel gets too easy, and the area too famous, it becomes overrun with tourists, and quickly loses all charm. This is the stage Khao San Road is in now. It’s packed with so many Asia travel cliches it’s embarrassing: the elephant pants, the weed shops, the pad thai stands, the Thai massage shops… Everything was marketed to extract as much money as possible from gullible travelers lacking the experience to know that this isn’t the real Thailand.

While Khao San Road was not to our liking, I found the rest of Bangkok quite charming. The massive temples were much grander than I expected, full of intricate artwork and stunning gold reliefs that would give any cathedral a run for its money. The 24-hour flower market, a common tourist stop, was actually full of locals buying and selling things (unlike Khao San). We spent hours walking around downtown Bangkok near Chinatown, and this felt like a city people actually lived in, not just a place built to support tourism (I’m looking at you Siem Reap!).

My favourite activity in Bangkok was a trip to a bouldering gym for some climbing. We took the metro, which was cheap and easy to navigate. After riding for a dozen or so stops, we got off at a massive shopping mall to begin our ten minute walk to the gym. Seeing the modern mall was very refreshing (plus such a sharp contrast to our time in rural, less-developed Cambodia); I appreciated seeing regular people living in Bangkok doing their regular thing. The bouldering gym was a similar experience: it was nice to feel almost like a local for a day.

Chiang Mai

After spending a few days in Bangkok, our plan was to head to northern Thailand. While we heard that Thailand has an amazing rail system offering comfy rides all over the country, we soon found out that you need to book tickets months in advance to secure a spot! After struggling with websites and sold-out ticket offices, we gave up, and took a long bus ride north to Chiang Mai, the center of the north.

Chiang Mai is another of these famous Thai travel destinations. As well as containing countless tour companies, hotels, and western-style restaurants, Chiang Mai is also very famous for the amount of ex-pats it houses. Call me a little jaded from months of travel, but I honestly couldn’t figure out why everyone seemed to love this town so much. While the city itself has some interesting history as the capital of the Lanna empire, including a historic Old Town and temples, it really just felt a like an ordinary Thai city to me, except with a downtown that was overrun with businesses catering to tourists (sooooo many spas, hotels, and tour companies! Geeeze!). I thought it was overrated personally.

We spent about four days in Chiang Mai, visiting the Old Town museum, trying the famous night market street food, and signing up for a city walking tour at night. We also signed up for our first (of hopefully many) Muay Thai classes. Muay Thai, aka Thai Boxing, is sort of like kickboxing, except fists, elbows, and knees are all in play in addition to kicks. The group class we took was really intense but a lot of fun. We learned the basic technique, and got some one-on-one time with the instructors as they held up pads for us to attack. After months of travel without routine exercise, I was humbled, but eager to take some more classes in the future.

Mae Hong Son Loop

From Chiang Mai, we decided to do the Mae Hong Son motorbike loop, a 600 kilometer loop through the northern Thai highlands. The route features something like 1500 turns through winding mountain passes, and is regarded by some as one of the best motorcycle rides in the world. The route begins from Chiang Mai and passes through numerous small Thai towns, including the famous backpacker haven of Pai, before looping back to Chiang Mai. Most people take about four days to complete the ride (we elected for five days), while some take up to a week in order to spend more time in each location.

In Chiang Mai, we rented a couple 125cc Honda motorbikes for about $10 CAD a day. Plus full tanks of gas, we were in this for only $15 a day. We headed off in the morning through the traffic of the city. While we had driven motorbikes many times before on this trip, I was nervous – this was our first time driving in Thailand, and Thailand is a left-hand drive country. Left! But while I was worried about this supposed flip in all my driving routines and habits, it was actually really easy. You just keep left. It really is that simple.

Day one of the loop was perhaps the least interesting. A very long and very straight highway leads out of Chiang Mai, and it’s pretty busy in some spots (Chiang Mai is the second largest city in Thailand, in fact). After nearly 100 km of driving south on highway 108 (around the halfway point for the day), we stopped in the small town of Hot for a quick lunch at a local restaurant. No English, but the thing I pointed at on the menu was absolutely delicious.

Continuing west now, still along highway 108, the road became more interesting, with plenty of hill climbs, twists, and turns. It even got downright cold on the bikes as we sped along the road, high up in the mountains. We stopped a few times at viewpoints, and once at a national park full of pine trees (an unusual and exotic tree here in tropical Thailand, but it smelled like home to us!).

We spent the night in Mae Sariang, a very small and very local town in the highlands next to a wide river. We had outstanding pork buns (bao) at a small Chinese restaurant, and visited the local night market at sunset for some street food (we were perplexed that all the restaurants in town seemed deserted until we accidentally found the market and discovered that this was where the whole town was hanging out). Mae Sariang was very enjoyable simply due to its lack of tourists and English. It was a welcome change from the well-travelled, developed Thailand we had been experiencing, a Thailand where everyone speaks English, and that is almost uncomfortably western.

In the morning, we grabbed an excellent coffee from a small shop and began our drive through a beautiful, shady jungle canopy. The road was beginning to get more twisted, with frequent climbs that showcased stunning views of the countryside. Near the end of our drive on day two, the drive became downright fun, with super sharp bends and a lot of turns. The Mae Hong Son province highway department has done a simply fantastic job maintaining that road (perhaps because it’s so famous) – it was smooth, well-paved and well-painted, with adequate camber on the sharp turns, extra grip applied to the pavement, and good signage indicating speeds, surprise corners, and distances to landmarks, towns, and attractions. Along the way, we encountered hundreds of other motorbikers on the road, although most of them seemed to be Thai visitors for the time being.

Night two was spent in the town of Mae Hong Son, the provincial capital. It felt very small to me, but was very clean and sharp, featuring lots of government offices and even a small airport. For dinner, we again stumbled across the local night market. I even found some $4 “Ray Ban” sunglasses to replace the sunglasses I had lost somewhere in Chiang Mai – the logo is all that matters anyway!

Day three was the single most fun day of the drive. Although it was the shortest by distance (about 130 km to our next town, Pai), the drive was by far the most involved, featuring non-stop curves and climbs, accompanied by simply stunning views of deep valleys, high peaks, quaint countryside, small villages, and lush jungle plants. I wish I had been able to capture more of the jaw-dropping views on camera, but the drive was sometimes simply too much fun to stop; it was like a go-cart track. My favourite moment? Playing a game of chicken with an actual chicken: it ran out on the road in front of me, and I went left and sped up to not hit it, but it did the same, and for one gut-wrenching moment, I was certain I was going to run over this stupid chicken, but we both miraculously made it. That brain-dead chicken was absurdly funny.

On our third evening, we rolled into Pai, a famous backpacker town not too far from Chiang Mai. Many people make Pai their only other stop in northern Thailand. The town itself isn’t very Thai – its full of young Europeans looking to drink cheap beer and tube in the river. In fact, the walking street night market was full of vegan food – nothing screams western so much as vegan pastries….

Despite the town not really feeling like Thailand, I have to admit that Pai is absolutely stunning. It’s perhaps the most beautiful place we’ve visited in Asia so far. We booked a remote bungalow in the countryside for a few nights in order to explore the town, and nothing was as enjoyable as simply driving around the quiet roads to soak up the mountains and sky.

The next day, we headed down to Pai Canyon for a little hike. I don’t know exactly how this place formed geologically, but it’s a super interesting series of steep, sharp ridges, each with a flat path along the top, perfect for walking! While most stop at the beginning for a few key viewpoints, if you’re not afraid of a little climbing (and of getting very, very dirty), you can continue along any number of these ridges to explore.

Once back in Pai, we headed off into the countryside again to seek out a mini-golf place we found online. “Bamboo Golf” ended up being a fun afternoon activity. A Scottish guy and his wife created a little mini-golf putting course on their property. The game is played with big bamboo mallets and a tennis ball on slightly springy grass, and makes for a fun challenge – a little like a combo of mini-golf and croquet!

On our fifth morning of the Mae Hong Son loop, we got up bright and early – or, it would have bright except for the heavy blanket of low clouds covering the region. We had to be back in Chiang Mai by mid-day to return the bikes and catch a bus onward to Chiang Rai, near the border of Laos. After grabbing coffee at the only shop open in town at that hour, we set off into the mist.

Driving in the early morning meant we had the roads pretty much all to ourselves. Well, except the dogs we frequently found sleeping all over the roads. Not sure if the pavement is warm or something, but they seem to think ideal sleeping spots are those that put them in the way of oncoming traffic. We also had a brief encounter with a herd of cows, who perhaps thought the same thing.

The drive out from Pai was nearly as twisty as the drive in had been. The main difference this morning was that is was absolutely freezing! I ended up putting on nearly everything I brought to stay warm, but driving fast on a motorbike through wet clouds in the early morning mountain air is a recipe for being chilled to the bone. Although it was worth it for those moments when we emerged above the clouds and were treated to a stunning view of the golden morning illuminating the white sea below.

Chiang Rai

We made it back to Chiang Mai and returned our bikes without incident, and that afternoon, took a shortish bus ride (only 4 hours) to the northern tip of Thailand to Chiang Rai, right next to Laos and Myanmar. While we spent a few days here, we didn’t end up doing much – I think we needed a break after the bike loop. Some highlights from Chiang Rai were a mildly amusing clocktower show, and a great night market famous for cheap hotpot.

After spending only about 2 weeks in Thailand, mostly in the north, we decided to move on to Laos. Our plan, roughly, was to spend much of December in Laos, including Christmas, and then grab a flight to the south of Thailand to spend News Years Eve in Phuket, a town known for its extravagant NYE party. With our flights and accommodation for the holiday booked well in advance (booking in advance is generally challenging on an open-ended trip like ours, but we pretty much had to book ahead for the holidays, as the post-pandemic world has gone travel-crazy!), we wanted to allocate enough time for Laos before we had to head south. Crossing over to the town of Huay Xai, we were onto our next country!

We’d made a huge mistake. Sitting in the bus station in Sihanoukville, waiting to catch a night bus north to Siem Reap, I read the reviews of the bus company with whom we were about to travel. “Cockroaches”, “missed connections”, and even “sexual assault” – words that I definitely did not want to read were appearing. Stories of spending the night sharing a double bed space with a random stranger, theft, and rude, hostile staff. I am a bad sleeper at the best of times, never having achieved more than 20 minutes of light dozing on a car, bus, or plane. I hated the night buses of Vietnam with a passion, having tried multiple times to overcome my stubborn awakeness while drivers took hairpin turns on bumpy roads at breakneck speeds. I’d sworn to never ride another one. But due to continued credit card malfunctions during our trip, we found ourselves unable to pay for anything online, and that included bus tickets. We were at the mercy of whatever bus companies happened to have an office nearby where we could show up and pay in cash. And that meant, in this case, we were stuck with the most poorly reviewed company in the country (like, a one star), the one that hostel websites warn against booking.

So for this trip, a 12 hour night bus from Sihanoukville on Cambodia’s south coast to Siem Reap in the north, I pulled out my best mental toughness strategy: low expectations. “I can sit in a dirty, maybe bug-infested, jarring, smelly, and uncomfortable space for 12 hours”, I told myself. I’d keep my bag with my valuables firmly in reach, and I had Chris around in case they tried to make me share a space with a stranger. It wouldn’t be nice, but I wouldn’t die. (I had yet to read any headlines along the lines of “30 dead due to manic bus driver in horrific crash”). As long as I arrived alive, that was all that I required of this bus ride.

Boarding the bus in the evening, I was cautiously optimistic. The bus seemed fine – nothing like the monster-infested bus from hell I’d been considering. Chris and I were directed to a double bunk on the top, and I was very pleased to see that the sheets and pillowcases of our bunk were crisp and fresh, and smelled freshly laundered. No bugs came crawling out of anything, and as we got underway, I was absolutely shocked to find that I could sleep. The bed was mercifully flat (sometimes they don’t recline all the way on night buses, and it’s horrible), and sharing a bunk with Chris meant that I rocked around less on sharp turns. The staff seemed fine, and made sure no one missed their midway stop at Phnom Penh.

What I thought might be the nightmare to end all night bus rides actually turned out to be the best ride of my life, and a milestone at that: I slept. Pretty much the whole way through the night. I even left a nice review for the bus company instructing others not to panic if they accidentally booked with the “bad company”. Things might just turn out okay.

Siem Reap

Our first morning in Siem Reap consisted of an excellent breakfast at the best cafe in the city (the Source Cafe), a good, strong coffee, then a visit to the museum to begin to get acquainted with the main attraction of the city, and indeed, the main attraction of the country: Angkor. The single most common reason anyone visits Cambodia is Angkor Wat, recently named the eighth wonder of the world (in fact, it was awarded this title only a few days after we visited!).

Angkor Wat is a massive stone temple and ancient city built in the 12th century just north of the modern city of Siem Reap, but the term is also used to broadly refer to the entire Angkor Archeological Park, a massive area (over 400 km squared) that contains dozens of ancient temples of the Khmer empire. Angkor Wat itself is the largest, grandest, and most famous temple of the park – it is literally on Cambodia’s flag. Look it up. It’s also the largest religious structure in the world. It is impossible to understate what this place means to Cambodian identity, as well as the economy; tourism to the Angkor Archeological Park accounts for a significant portion of the entire country’s GDP. And for good reason. It is astounding.

After a day at the museum, more binging on our favourite Cambodian history podcast, and watching a few documentaries on Angkor, we elected to see the park without a guide. As the temple complex is not walkable (the temples are quite far away from each other), the two common ways to explore the area are by tuk-tuk, with a driver hired for the day, or on your own by bicycle. I love biking, and as we had already learnt so much about the ancient capital, we felt well-equipped enough to tackle things on our own. Renting mountain bikes for $5 a day, we biked roughly 10 km from the centre of Siem Reap where we were staying to the park. We had purchased a 3-day pass ($62 USD each), which allowed us to visit 3 separate days out of the next 7 days, but we ended up using only 2 of days.

The first day, we cycled what is called “the mini circuit”, covering about 17 km and stopping by the largest and most famous temples: Angkor Wat, Phnom Bakheng, Bayon (Angkor Thom), and Ta Prohm. On our second day, we cycled “the grand circuit”, covering about 26 km and stopping by maybe 10 temples, including Preah Khan, Neak Pean, East Mebon, and Banteay Kdel. The roads were in excellent condition for biking: flat and well-maintained, often with dedicated (or even fully separated) bike-lanes, and not much traffic. As someone who loves road biking, I thought the bike ride was excellent: shady and smooth, and presenting some of the most amazing sights in the world. I was not surprised to see large groups of road bikers out for evening rides.

In sharp contrast to the power and majesty of man that is displayed through these stone works of art was the power of nature at a few of the sites, most notably the temple Ta Prohm. Ta Prohm was made particularly famous by an appearance in Angelina Jolie’s Tomb Raider movie. As no mortar was used to secure the stones, the roots of trees have long since taken over, wedging themselves into unlikely places and loosening the stones. While the temple is in a state of semi-collapse, it is arguably the most beautiful, and definitely one of the most popular in the park.

Aside from Angkor Wat, we took it easy in Siem Reap, spending about 5 days in the town. We visited the night markets and the famous Pub Street (75-cent beers), tried grilled frog (very good!), swam in our hotel pool (refreshing), and got a very cheap massage from a very fancy spa (only $12!).

While Angkor Archeological park is a powerful, awe-inspiring site, I found the city of Siem Reap to be quite bland. It was fantastically clean – the cleanest place in Asia we had yet visited on our trip. It is very western in many ways, as tourism is so developed, and it was clearly richer than every other place we visited in the country. We had heard that some people really didn’t like the town (we heard someone liken it to Las Vegas! I can confirm: it is nothing like Vegas), but it is certainly worth a visit to see Angkor Wat, despite the lack of character of the city.

Battambang

From Siem Reap, we took another bus (blessedly short this time) to neighbouring Battambang. Despite being nearly the same size, Battambang was a sharp contrast to Siem Reap’s clean streets, manicured gardens, and air-conditioned, glass-walled stores. Battambang is sprawling city that feels like a small town, as most of the population seems to live in what seems like the countryside. The city centre felt oddly deserted during our time there as well. Despite what we had read about Battambang being the next up-and-coming tourist hotspot of the country, we found many closed businesses, and not much happening.

Through a few tours, we got more insight on the poverty of the area. The region was hit particularly hard by the nightmare of the Khmer Rouge in the 1970’s, and again by the covid pandemic. Cambodia is, in many ways, a country still struggling to get back on its feet after a national trauma, and that was starkly apparent in Battambang, a town that only got electricity 10 years ago. Strolling through what I had expected to be a busy downtown began to make more sense: this was a place where locals cooked food on the side of the road beside their homes, and where cold drinks came out of coolers filled with ice, not electric refrigerators.

We did two tours while in Battambang: a day-trip around the countryside by tuk-tuk, and a half-day bicycle trip.

One of the most fun activities we did on our tours was ride the famous bamboo train, a wooden platform on a couple axels with a small motor that runs along the railroad tracks. In the past, the bamboo train was used for transporting goods – now, it’s more of a tourist attraction. The carts are pictured below. When you’re riding, and another cart comes along towards you in the opposite direction, both carts have to stop, and one has to be completed dismantled and lifted off the tracks to allow the others to pass. Fortunately, this only takes a minute.

In town, we also took a cooking class. While we found Cambodian food to be quite similar to Thai food, we did get a chance to make a handful of uniquely Cambodian dishes: lok lak (marinated and fried beef, usually served on top of some veggies) and amok (a fish curry traditionally steamed in a banana leaf).

Right after our cooking class, we caught a tuk-tuk down to the Phare Battambang circus! Phare is a performing arts school for disadvantaged children – it provides free arts education and vocational training to young Cambodians, as well as community support and cultural preservation. In addition to acrobatics and performance arts, the school also teaches graphic design, visual art, music, animation, and much more. This not-for-profit school is a wonderful organization full of immensely talented kids, and those kids put on an amazing show, full of humour, daring tricks, and fun moments.

Our time in Cambodia was filled with both the highs and the lows of the Khmer people. We saw everything from the wondrous temples built to showcase the empire at the height of its strength, to the every day life of working people trying to recollect themselves after the collective nightmare of the Khmer Rouge. We learned more about the history and culture of this country and its people than any other place I have ever travelled, and I feel like we’ve still only scratched the surface. Cambodia was a good reminder of why we travel – to broaden our perspectives and learn more about our world.

With our trip across the country complete, we packed our bags yet again, and headed for the border of Thailand. Next stop, Bangkok!

After a month in Vietnam, our tourist visas were up, and it was time to move onto Cambodia. From Ho Chi Minh City, we elected to try out an underused land border crossing in the south, along the coast to the small town of Kampot, rather than the well-traveled tourist trail that would take us to the capital of Cambodia, Phnom Penh. As this particular border crossing (from the Vietnamese town of Ha Tien) was lesser used by foreigners, we weren’t sure exactly what to expect. We booked a bus from downtown HCMC with the local company Futabus the night before our visas were up. We were at the bus station promptly at 6am to start our 8 hour ride. The ride was smooth enough, and we were deposited in Ha Tien without difficulty. From here, numerous taxi drivers swarmed us to offer over-priced rides to the border. Balking at the cost, we turned them all down. Fortunately, as we regrouped outside the bus station, Chris met a man in the washroom who offered us a cheap motorbike taxi ride. Score for random washroom encounters. We each hopped aboard a moto-taxi to enjoy the breezy 20 minute ride to the crossing.

Once at the checkpoint, departing Vietnam was easy and fast. Entering Cambodia was another matter however. As we walked up to the arrivals building, a young western man approached us, asking if we had any US dollars we could trade him. While US dollars are one of the two currencies accepted in Cambodia (the other being the local Riel), Cambodians are very picky about the quality of the bills; no tears, discolourations, excessive creases, or dirt of any kind are allowed, else the bills are worthless. To enter Cambodia, one must purchase a visa with crisp, fresh US bills only. Period. And this poor man we encountered at the border, stuck with a slightly inky and thus useless $20 bill, was currently in mid-border hell: unable to purchase his Cambodian visa, and unable to return to Vietnam to obtain more cash as he had already received a check-in stamp to Cambodia prior to paying. He and his partner had been waiting, trapped, for about an hour and half already. Fortunately, Chris had some pristine US cash, and after buying our own visas, we had enough leftover to swap with this guy and get him over the border. Once across, the four of us split a cab, and we arrived in Kampot just as the sun was going down (only an hour drive, fortunately).

Kampot itself is a pretty small town along the banks of the Preaek Tuek river with kind of a funny vibe. Neither of us liked it at first, but it grew on us during our 4-day stay. The town is sleepy, and was hit pretty hard by covid. It has a large expat community of older white men (some with Cambodia wives, and honestly, probably a good deal just there for sex-tourism – yuk). Since the demise of the neighbouring city of Sihanoukville, which used to be a backpacker/hippy party-beach town but is now almost entirely taken over by Chinese-owned casinos, many of the expats have migrated to sleepy Kampot. There isn’t a whole lot going on in town, but the countryside is quite beautiful, especially if you time your visit with the end of the rainy season when everything is at its greenest (November). Kampot’s claims to fame are pepper farms, the nearby beach town of Kep (which in turn is famous for fresh crab), and an abandoned holiday resort on top of a mountain.

We took it easy in Kampot, renting both bicycles and motorbikes to explore the area, but also spending some time just hanging out at our hostel, Monkey Republic, which featured good food, a huge craft beer selection, and a pretty good live band on Saturday night.

Our biggest outing was a day-trip to Kep. After failing to take our motorbikes down a muddy, washed out puddle of a dirt road to see a waterfall, we instead turned our bikes towards the dustiest road in existence, the highway to Kep. Once in town, we stopped for some drinks and fresh Kampot pepper crab by the water, a must-do activity. During our entire time in the south of Cambodia, we were hit daily with a huge rainstorm sometime in the afternoon. This day, it struck as we were departing Kep. After a brief stop huddled under shelter at a local shop, we donned raingear, threw the rain cover on the backpack, and decided to commit to a very wet bike ride home. It felt like a local experience we really should try, and it actually wasn’t so bad.

The highlight of our time in Kampot was a highly informative bike tour we took with a Canadian expat, Jason. Jason, a former tour guide, history buff, and amateur anthropologist, had been living in Cambodia since just before the pandemic struck, and had gone to great lengths to integrate with and truly understand the Cambodian people. In a five-hour bike tour through the countryside, he gave us a crash course in Cambodian history (and recommended our new favourite podcast for long bus rides: In the Shadows of Utopia), and helped us start to understand local beliefs, mindsets, traditions, and social structure. It was simply the best tour we have ever taken, helping us to bridge the cultural and psychological gap from where we stand as Canadians to the Khmer (Cambodian) people, and, importantly, to begin to unpack the ubiquitous national nightmare that was the Khmer Rouge.

Our time in Cambodia would be continually punctuated by discussion of the Khmer Rouge, the communist party that led the country from 1975 to 1979. The brutal totalitarian regime emptied cities, forcing the population into the country for forced agricultural labour, and resulted in a horrific mass-murder of approximately one quarter of the entire country’s population. It is an appalling and bewildering tale, and to understand how something so terrible could happen, a deep-dive into history, world-events, and Cambodian culture is required (and thus began our addiction to our new podcast mentioned above). Nearly everywhere we visited in the country was marked by the scars of the Khmer Rouge, and indeed, many of the tourist activities throughout the country are visits to sites from this infamous period in history. We’d come to spend a lot of our time in Cambodia reflecting on the madness that occurred in this seemingly peaceful, pastoral landscape.

The next stop in our Cambodian itinerary was a trip to Koh Rong Samloem (KRS), a small island off the southern coast of the country. KRS is reached via speedboat from one of the ports in Sihanoukville. On the recommendation of our tour guide Jason, we booked a trip to Sihanoukville from Kampot via the train (you can also go by bus, which is apparently absolutely horrendous – bumpy, hot, and slow). We took a glorious train (short and air-conditioned!) to Sihanoukville, then a quick tuk-tuk ride deposited us at the Autonomous Port, where we caught a speedboat to the island.

Arriving in the small village of M’Pai Bay on Koh Rong Samloem, we were treated to a unique community in a beautiful setting. Much quieter and less-developed than the neighbouring Koh Rong Island (which has a party reputation these days), Koh Rong Samloem is split into half a dozen disconnected beaches, most of which require a boat to move between. While most of the beaches are dotted with resorts, we elected to stay in the Cambodian village of M’Pai Bay, which we read had a lovely backpacker scene, and more importantly, was home to a well-reviewed scuba dive shop. Our goal for KHS was for me to get my first scuba certification: Open Water. Chris, already being a Dive Master (a professional-level cert, meaning he’s worked in a dive shop and dived about a million times), planned to do some ‘fun dives’ with a guide while I chipped away at my three-day course.

Unlike neighbouring Koh Rong, M’Pai Bay is definitely not developed. There is only one partially-paved road, and you won’t find widespread wifi or air-conditioning (there is cell service if you have a Cambodia SIM card though). It is not glamourous and touristy, and it doesn’t have a huge party scene. It does have a very charming and authentic village feel though, with numerous expat-run businesses interspersed with local ones. We really enjoyed the laid-back vibes and small town feel. Indeed, after starting my diving course and going to just a couple restaurants, we felt like we recognized half the people around town! Our accommodations for the week we spent on KRS – the Hornbill Guesthouse – were particularly social, with regular movie nights and a much-anticipated weekly quiz night. We felt right at home as soon as we stepped off the speedboat, perhaps because the owner of our guesthouse happened to be sitting behind us on the boat, and happily shepherded all us visitors off to our respective accommodations.

But the highlight of our week in M’Pai Bay was scuba diving, of course. I completed the basic Open Water course with a lovely woman from Poland. We had a lot of fun learning to dive, and I’m proud of myself for overcoming my initial terror of drowning on day one. I definitely had to push myself outside of my comfort zone, but those experiences are so valuable, and I came out of it with a handy new cert to use to explore the ocean (and another very expensive hobby). Once certified, I got to dive a handful of times with Chris as well, and we’ve since made many more plans for continuing to dive in Thailand and Indonesia later on during our trip.

After completing the Open Water course, Chris and I decided to check out some of the other beaches on KRS. The downside of staying in M’Pai Bay is that there are no roads that connect it to other parts of the island; in order to access some of the famous beaches, we’d have to take a boat. While there are numerous water-taxi services, they’re a little expensive unless you put together a group of people. We learned instead that the cheapest way to beach-hop is to take the ‘slow boat’, aka: the resupply ferry. This ferry bounces back and forth between Sihanoukville on the mainland and the islands, dropping off and picking up supplies and people. With some patience, we were able to hop on early in the morning off the pier in M’Pai Bay, and arrived in Saracen Bay about 45 minutes later, all for $5 USD.

Saracen Beach, while better maintained than the beach in M’Pai Bay (which suffers a lot from plastic pollution), is full of small resorts. We found the restaurants to be a bit expensive, and felt it lacked the community charm of M’Pai. While it was nice to visit, we were happy with where we stayed. From Saracen, where we ate a quick breakfast, we walked 30 minutes along a jungle path across the island to the remote Lazy Beach, where we set up for the day. Lazy beach was perfect: hot with some shade, flawless sand, warm water, and quiet. Only one small, rustic resort operates on this beach – just enough for a few of the amenities we wanted for a day at the beach (namely, a place for lunch and drinks, and a bathroom).

We made our way back to Saracen in the late afternoon to catch the supply boat back to M’Pai Bay. While our morning drop-off had been quick, this time, the boat was absolutely packed with stuff. Every single business in the bay pulled up their little boat next to the big ship and began unloading their orders. We figured we were in for a long wait before departure. Fortunately, a women waiting beside us on the pier had scheduled a water-taxi pickup, which we happily joined for the same price as the slow boat. We had just enough time to land back in M’Pai and get to a restaurant for dinner when the sky opened up with the daily torrential rainstorm. Boy were we glad that we weren’t still on the slow boat!

Our visit to M’Pai Bay, as well as my first experience scuba diving, was perhaps the highlight of the Cambodian leg of our trip. However, we were in for a lot more history, plus a lot more amazing locations, at our next stop: the city of Siem Reap, to visit the unparalleled Angkor Wat, the eighth wonder of the world.

Our final week in Vietnam saw us heading south towards Ho Chi Minh City (formerly known as Saigon). To break up the long travel, Chris and I decided to stop for a few days in Dalat, Vietnam’s highlands and bread basket of the country. Dalat is an agricultural paradise, full of ardent green valleys and low mountains. Nearly everything imaginable is grown here, from coffee to flowers to tropical fruits to vegetables to grapes for wine (Dalat boasts Vietnam’s only wine region in fact, although locals told me it wasn’t great wine compared to the French, Australian, and Chilean wines readily available in stores).

We spent a few days in Dalat touring the sights, although we honestly didn’t love the town. There isn’t much tourist infrastructure in Dalat at this time, and it really just felt like another generic town. We also arrived at just about the worst time: a number of unfortunate tourist deaths the week prior had caused many tour companies to have to scale down or close their operations temporarily while a review was conducted, so many activities weren’t available. The deaths were due to 1) a flash flood, and 2) a selfie-taking tourist falling backward of a rock. While both of those sound like tragic accidents to me, it’s probably a good thing that the government demanded a review.

Our Dalat tour took us through many types of farms and factories. We ate fried crickets at a cricket farm (a well-loved Vietnamese snack), discovered how to make rice wine, and stopped by a traditional silk factory. While I think everyone knows in the back of their mind that silk comes from silk worms, I’d never really thought much about what the fabrication process might look like. While I can say that I was mildly disgusted by the whole thing, I did end up trying a cooked and flavoured silk worm – another traditional Vietnamese snack. It was not good.

One of the highlights of our tour of Dalat was a visit to the weasel coffee farm. Aside from having amazing fresh coffee and a stunning view, the farm also produced the famous ‘weasel coffee’. We’d seen weasel coffee around Vietnam during our travels, but I’d always just assumed it was a brand name. Turns out, weasel coffee is actually made with the help of weasels. I will not go into more details on how specifically they help.

After Dalat, we bused down to our final stop in Vietnam: Ho Chi Minh City, the largest city in Vietnam with nearly 10 million people. HCMC was an interesting contrast to the small towns and rural life we witnessed in much of the country. The city was about as modern as it gets, and it felt for a while like being back in North America. Saigon, as the city was known until 1976 when the city was renamed after Ho Chi Minh, is full of history, French colonial buildings, and museums.

A must-do while in the city is a visit to the War Remnants museum, a museum documenting the history of the American-Vietnamese war. The visit is heavy, but the museum is extremely informative and well-run, with an optional audio-tour that sheds a lot of light on the complex history of the conflict.

The end of October rolled around during our time in the city, and what better way to celebrate Halloween, we thought, than a trip to Ho Chi Minh’s famous beer street? The street, lined with small pubs and big, noisy clubs, was even more of a spectacle than we expected, with lights, smoke, and fantastical projections. Halloween added to the revelries – the street was jam-packed with families with their costumed kids in tow, driving or walking by to witness the chaos. We had some beers here, but left before the party got out of hand. Apparently the celebrations on beer street can last well into the morning. My favourite moment? As more and more patrons arrive for a beer and seats run out, the waitresses simply pull out some more of those classic tiny plastic chairs and set up seating on the road itself. However, this is apparently illegal. At one point, one of the waitresses at our drinking stop somehow realized the police would be by momentarily, and rapidly ushered the outmost group to join a group at a table behind them. Within seconds, their chairs were gone, a couple patrons made some new friends, and any evidence of non-compliance was gone!

One of the highlights in Ho Chi Minh city for us was the AO show, a hour-long cultural show at the Saigon opera house which combined elements of the Vietnamese bamboo circus with modern performance art. The acrobatics were incredible, and the show was surprisingly funny. No photos were allowed during the performance, but I got plenty of pics of the venue.

On our final night in Ho Chi Minh, we splurged on a street food tour – but not just any standard street food tour. The majority of the tours we encountered covered the standard Vietnamese foods we’d already spent a month eating – bahn mi, pho, egg coffee, etc. We instead found an interesting tour with some foods we’d never tried. With a guide and a fairly large group of older tourists, we tried pho bo kho (a pho-like beef stew), barbeque duck eaten with a French baguette, a Vietnamese pizza (a rice crust covered in a scrambled-egg-like mixture topped with shrimp and sauces), steamed rice rolls (filled with minced pork and mushrooms), and a caramel flan. We finished up our tour by pulling up some small plastic chairs at a place on Beer Street, having some drinks with our group, downing a quail embryo (more below), and hiding from a torrential downpour of rain.

Ho Chi Minh wrapped up our 30 days in Vietnam. Next stop: Cambodia’s south coast.

Any research into top places to visit in Vietnam will leave you with a couple names you probably recognize, such as Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi, but one you probably won’t: Hoi An. Hoi An is a colourful town near the coast in central Vietnam, perhaps best known for its well-preserved ancient town and colourful lantern festivals. After hearing rave reviews on Hoi An from folks who had been there, we decided to spend a bit more time in the town. We found Hoi An to a charming, well-kept little city with loads to do. Read on for some highlights!

Our first morning in Hoi An saw us on a walking tour in the heart of the Ancient Town, Hoi An’s historic district and centre of tourism, on the riverfront. This area was established as a renowned international trading port in the 1500’s, and as such, is the confluence of many different cultures, notably, Chinese, Japanese, French, and of course, Vietnamese. These international influences can be seen in everything from decor to lantern styles to traditional foods. Hoi An famously contains many museums, landmarks, and historic houses from its early days, but these are interspersed in a walk-able downtown with a myriad of restaurants, coffee shops, souvenir stores, custom tailor shops, art galleries, and boutique clothing stores. Modern Hoi An, recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is very much working to cash in on some tourist bucks. This did not diminish the charm for me however; I really enjoyed the contrast and variety between the traditional markets and street vendors and the modern shops and cafes.

It is at night that Hoi An really comes alive – lanterns light up each street, boats and tiny candle boxes fill the river, the daily night market begins, and the many waterfront bars are full of happy hour patrons. The small island across the river from the Ancient Town, An Hoi, is where the party happens, if that’s your thing.

One of the coolest tours we took was a so-called “ghost tour”, which took us through Hoi An at night to discuss haunted alleys, a cursed city, and death customs. We learned how the south and north of Vietnam differ hugely in their death rites – one side of the country loves a celebration-style funeral with lots of music and some laughter, while the other sees significance in the amount of sad people that turn up to mourn the deceased, and will even employ “professional criers” to attend and bring the mood down. But our favourite ghost-trivia fact of the trip? When entering temples and other important places, there is usually a very high threshold to cross in the doorway, requiring you to lift your feet high to step over. The reason? Ghosts don’t have knees, and so this effectively keeps them out of buildings. Obviously.

Another huge part of the culture of Hoi An is food of course, and Hoi An has several famous regional dishes it proudly flaunts. One in particular, cao lầu, is only available in town, and is a wonderful symbol of the spirit of the city. Cao lầu is a noodle dish that combines multiple different cultures: the thick noodles are a Japanese-inspired version of udon noodles, but they must be made exclusively with water pulled from a specific local well – this gives them a taste that is uniquely Hoi An. Additionally, the dish includes fried pork, which is cooked in a Chinese manner. Another famous food from Hoi An is the French-inspired bahn mi sandwich. While these are available all over Vietnam, Hoi An is apparently the capital of the sandwich, and has some of the best shops you’ll find in the country. Chris and I were able to find the shop reputed to be the best: Bahn Mi Queen. It was jam-packed when we visited, and I can see why. It was amazing. Hoi An is also home to many trendy coffee shops, cocktail bars, and even a craft beer brewery. One of our standard daily activities was picking a coffee shop with comfy chairs and pulling up for a long stay with an ice-cold coconut coffee.

One of the highlights of Hoi An for us was the Precious Heritage Museum. At first glance online, it simply sounded like an art gallery, but I was convinced to check it out after reading some reviews that noted that this was the best museum in town. It is an absolutely amazing project undertaken by French photographer Réhahn, who, upon traveling to the north of Vietnam to take landscape photos, came to the realization that Vietnam contained dozens of ethnic groups, about which there was little to no documented information. His connection with the people and the cultures led to a decade-long project in which he traveled all over the Vietnamese countryside in an effort to meet and catalogue some small aspects of the culture of each of the 54 ethnic groups, culminating a museum showcasing photos and traditional costumes. Réhahn’s empathy, passion, and artistic eye make this a truly inspiring collection, and Chris and I left full of admiration for the project he had undertaken – a work of breadth, meaning, and wisdom.

If Réhahn’s marvelous museum had left us inspired in the power of clothes, we were able to act on that inspiration in Hoi An, a city famous for its tailor shops. The town has a tailoring history which dates back to the Silk Road days, and that trade is very much alive and well in town. With something like 200 tailor shops, many visitors come to Hoi An specifically to have custom clothes made, as this can be done for a fraction of the cost of western cities. Men’s suits in particular seemed to be big business, with many specialty shops.

Our mission was perhaps a bit more elaborate than most: a suit and a wedding dress. After lots of searching and a half a dozen shop consults, we settled on A Dong Silk, one of the oldest shops in town, specializing in high-end clothing, and with plenty of experience in wedding dresses. We found the experience to be really fun – the wonderful ladies at the shop helped us with design and fabric selection, took our measurements, and then we both turned up the next day to try on completed garments! Several more days of fittings ensued (mostly for my dress!), but we ended up with high-quality, custom pieces for significantly less than we would have paid back home in Canada (a 3-piece suit, shirt, and tie for $230 USD, and a lace wedding dress with hand-sewn details for $420 USD). We had a few extra things made even: some dresses for me, and some more shorts for those hot Asian days. After it was all completed, a man from the post office was summoned to the shop to help us ship our fancy clothes back to Canada. While shipping was a little expensive ($167 CAD for 6 kgs), it was still a deal overall. My favourite moment of the whole experience was this: after boxing up our clothes, the man from the post office perched the box precariously on the back of his scooter, and then zoomed off into the chaotic Vietnamese traffic, our designer clothing in tow!

For those that tire of city views, the ocean is acutally only a short distance away. Chris and I grabbed some bikes from our hotel and took a short ride through rice fields and quiet country side for a day at the beach. We were excited to learn that there is some scuba diving off the Cham Islands adjacent to Hoi An, and a few dive shops in town, but we quickly found out that the dive shops close in October, as this is storm season and the visibility in the water is poor. We still enjoyed the beach however, and stopped by an amazing Canadian-Vietnamese restaurant called Bikini Bottom (Spongebob anyone?) for a fantastic hamburger.

The final activity we did in Hoi An was a tour of the My Son ruins. This historic site contains the temple ruins of the Champa people, a kingdom that occupied central Vietnam somewhere around the 9th century. The Champa practiced Hinduism, and so the temples have a large Indian influence. Unfortunately, these were largely destroyed by bombs during the American-Vietnamese War, but restoration was started in the 80-90’s with the help of a famous Polish architect, and has continued to the present day. Ironically, the new bricks used during the restoration projects aren’t holding up so well – they look black-green and are crumbling due to exposure to the weather. Someone, the master Cham builders of ancient times were able to figure out how to perfectly place and coat their bricks such that they are in nearly pristine condition to this day. Very impressive.

After nearly a week in Hoi An, Chris and I boarded another dreaded night-bus for our ride south. Next stop, Dalat and Ho Chi Minh City!