This post begins extra early on day one of four long drive days with three bush camps in between.
Another clear day, we had good views of the beautiful mountain scenery in this part of China. Here too, all but the steepest and craggiest acreage has been cleared of its dense foliage, terraced and cultivated.
Thanks to the good toll roads, tunnels and viaducts, Will was able to put a lot of kilometres behind us, but was unable to find anywhere for up to stop, camp and cook for the night. As night began to fall - and we resigned ourselves to cooking in the dark - he even tried a fire station by the mouth of one of the tunnels. It had a garden and would have been perfect, but they weren't able to oblige us. Maybe the idea of us starting a fire to cook on went against us. Could have been embarrassing for them if it had got out of hand, I suppose.
Next he tried a service station, but they said no too. That was also a pity, since it would have ruled out cooking entirely, open fires being particularly poor bedfellows with petrol pumps. Now well after dark, Will was just about to try a nearby town to see if there was a hostel or similar, when he and Jonny, who was on the same trip last year, found the spot where they camped last time: right next door to a graveyard. No bother from the neighbours at least.
With plenty of help from the others (and a small quantity of diesel) we soon had a fire going and dinner - a bean casserole - on its way. About an hour and a half later, we were washing up and deciding where to sleep: Juli on the truck (too warm); me under it (a bit chilly).
The next morning, Adam and Corinne were up even earlier than we were to help with breakfast. So quickly did Adam and I get the fire going again and the kettle boiled, that breakfast was ready, taken and put away again even earlier than usual, which meant being able to get going earlier too.
Continuing our journey through the mountains, this time seen through the morning mist, we entered yet another tunnel, but emerged on the other side into what might just as well have been another world: the sun was shining, the terraces were now planted with tea bushes and, a little later on, the white sap of rubber trees was being tapped.
When we stopped for lunch at a service station - thanks again, George - we saw bananas, coconuts, lychees and pineapples being sold from small stalls at the edge of the forecourt, the weather was decidedly warmer and more humid and I realised that we'd now travelled sufficiently far south to have crossed the Tropic of Cancer.
All around us, in amongst the rubber trees where banana plants and we saw signs like 'Elephant Vale' and 'Elephant Watch Post'. Even the regular road signs advising drivers to keep their distance or not to drink and drive featured elephants, pink ones in the case of the latter.
At about four o'clock, Will turned off the road and into what I'd have to say was quite a nice quarry, but a quarry nonetheless. This early stop was so George could lead that night's cook group (augmented by a willing band of helpers) in whipping up a feast of no less than six dishes, including a soup, to mark his last night with our group, for tomorrow we were to cross out of China. It's just as well we stopped early, as preparing and cooking this banquet took no less than four hours. Mind you, there were no complaints once the food arrived: it was delicious and all cooked on an open fire in the middle of nowhere.
The next morning we drove straight for the Laos border, which turned out only to be another hundred or so kilometres from where we'd camped. The crossing itself was pretty easy and not especially lengthy.
Waving goodbye to George and China, we drove on into country number 21 the Lao People's Democratic Republic - capital: Vientiane; population: about 6.5 million; currency: the Kip (and they do know the value of a kip, let me tell you); time zone: GMT+7, so we had to put our watches back an hour.
Immediately, you know you're in a different country: somehow it's all a bit more raggedy. The roads were a bit more bumpy, the terraces less well defined and the greenery much more mixed than in China. Our journey too was less smooth. Somewhere along the way we took a wrong turn, which meant back-tracking quite a few kilometres and missing out our habitual lunch stop. Lunch (leftovers from the feast - quite a lot of them) was instead taken on the go in the back of the swinging truck, which was moving at speed in an attempt to make up the lost time. Next was a stop to change tyres. An unevenly worn one from the front, which was making driving difficult, was moved to replace the previously patched one on the back, which had gone from having a slow puncture to having no air sooner than expected, and the last good spare was put on the front.
We drove through small villages of houses on sticks with much more steeply pitched roofs than in China and covered with grass or bamboo shingles instead of clay tiles.
Driving on along steep and winding mountain roads, we eventually stopped - after dark again - on a small patch of land not much more than a layby by the side of the road and set to returning Adam and Corinne's favour by helping them to prepare their evening meal, pasta with a tuna sauce, if you want to know.
Breakfast the next day was pushed back to after sunrise. Welcome as this was, sadly the reason was less about allowing us to enjoy our breakfast than being able to change yet another wheel in the daylight.
Once the wheels were changed, including using our one remaining, 'to-be-used-only-as-an-absolute-last-resort' spare, a bumpy drive took us to a small town called Nongkhiaw, where some of us caught a slow boat to Luang Prabang. There, we met up with the others at our hostel and home for the next three nights, about which more next time.
TTFN - N
Another clear day, we had good views of the beautiful mountain scenery in this part of China. Here too, all but the steepest and craggiest acreage has been cleared of its dense foliage, terraced and cultivated.
Thanks to the good toll roads, tunnels and viaducts, Will was able to put a lot of kilometres behind us, but was unable to find anywhere for up to stop, camp and cook for the night. As night began to fall - and we resigned ourselves to cooking in the dark - he even tried a fire station by the mouth of one of the tunnels. It had a garden and would have been perfect, but they weren't able to oblige us. Maybe the idea of us starting a fire to cook on went against us. Could have been embarrassing for them if it had got out of hand, I suppose.
Next he tried a service station, but they said no too. That was also a pity, since it would have ruled out cooking entirely, open fires being particularly poor bedfellows with petrol pumps. Now well after dark, Will was just about to try a nearby town to see if there was a hostel or similar, when he and Jonny, who was on the same trip last year, found the spot where they camped last time: right next door to a graveyard. No bother from the neighbours at least.
With plenty of help from the others (and a small quantity of diesel) we soon had a fire going and dinner - a bean casserole - on its way. About an hour and a half later, we were washing up and deciding where to sleep: Juli on the truck (too warm); me under it (a bit chilly).
***
The next morning, Adam and Corinne were up even earlier than we were to help with breakfast. So quickly did Adam and I get the fire going again and the kettle boiled, that breakfast was ready, taken and put away again even earlier than usual, which meant being able to get going earlier too.
Continuing our journey through the mountains, this time seen through the morning mist, we entered yet another tunnel, but emerged on the other side into what might just as well have been another world: the sun was shining, the terraces were now planted with tea bushes and, a little later on, the white sap of rubber trees was being tapped.
When we stopped for lunch at a service station - thanks again, George - we saw bananas, coconuts, lychees and pineapples being sold from small stalls at the edge of the forecourt, the weather was decidedly warmer and more humid and I realised that we'd now travelled sufficiently far south to have crossed the Tropic of Cancer.
All around us, in amongst the rubber trees where banana plants and we saw signs like 'Elephant Vale' and 'Elephant Watch Post'. Even the regular road signs advising drivers to keep their distance or not to drink and drive featured elephants, pink ones in the case of the latter.
At about four o'clock, Will turned off the road and into what I'd have to say was quite a nice quarry, but a quarry nonetheless. This early stop was so George could lead that night's cook group (augmented by a willing band of helpers) in whipping up a feast of no less than six dishes, including a soup, to mark his last night with our group, for tomorrow we were to cross out of China. It's just as well we stopped early, as preparing and cooking this banquet took no less than four hours. Mind you, there were no complaints once the food arrived: it was delicious and all cooked on an open fire in the middle of nowhere.
***
The next morning we drove straight for the Laos border, which turned out only to be another hundred or so kilometres from where we'd camped. The crossing itself was pretty easy and not especially lengthy.
Waving goodbye to George and China, we drove on into country number 21 the Lao People's Democratic Republic - capital: Vientiane; population: about 6.5 million; currency: the Kip (and they do know the value of a kip, let me tell you); time zone: GMT+7, so we had to put our watches back an hour.
Immediately, you know you're in a different country: somehow it's all a bit more raggedy. The roads were a bit more bumpy, the terraces less well defined and the greenery much more mixed than in China. Our journey too was less smooth. Somewhere along the way we took a wrong turn, which meant back-tracking quite a few kilometres and missing out our habitual lunch stop. Lunch (leftovers from the feast - quite a lot of them) was instead taken on the go in the back of the swinging truck, which was moving at speed in an attempt to make up the lost time. Next was a stop to change tyres. An unevenly worn one from the front, which was making driving difficult, was moved to replace the previously patched one on the back, which had gone from having a slow puncture to having no air sooner than expected, and the last good spare was put on the front.
We drove through small villages of houses on sticks with much more steeply pitched roofs than in China and covered with grass or bamboo shingles instead of clay tiles.
Driving on along steep and winding mountain roads, we eventually stopped - after dark again - on a small patch of land not much more than a layby by the side of the road and set to returning Adam and Corinne's favour by helping them to prepare their evening meal, pasta with a tuna sauce, if you want to know.
***
Breakfast the next day was pushed back to after sunrise. Welcome as this was, sadly the reason was less about allowing us to enjoy our breakfast than being able to change yet another wheel in the daylight.
Once the wheels were changed, including using our one remaining, 'to-be-used-only-as-an-absolute-last-resort' spare, a bumpy drive took us to a small town called Nongkhiaw, where some of us caught a slow boat to Luang Prabang. There, we met up with the others at our hostel and home for the next three nights, about which more next time.
TTFN - N
