East Meets West

Today's electric bike tour had me slightly concerned. Having seen the mountains surrounding Luang Prabang, experienced how hot it gets in the middle of the day and never having ridden an e-bike before I was seriously dreading a full day's intinerary even if it did include lunch! Sometimes I make even myself laugh. 

Within minutes of being met by Ken and the tuk tuk for the short journey to the bike hire place, we were shown the ropes and were off. What ever was I thinking? You know how you can read something that isn't there and ignore what's written in black and white when one's imagination gets the better of you? Pah! This was in fact a gentle pootle around the charming small town of Luang Prabang with the added whoosh that a flick of the wrist injects when you simply can't be bothered to pedal any more. Within minutes I was a total convert to the electric bike and imagining myself buying one of these mega-machines back home, eating up the short drive to work and into town, even with the hill in Loxley to contend with. Furthermore our day involved merely exploring town centre museums, temples, an ethnic centre, a fabulous restaurant for lunch, an amazing viewpoint and a dying crafts centre to boot. Joy upon joy for our photo album and our burgeoning knowledge banks. 

First stop - ex Royal Palace, now museum.

Buddhas everywhere you look.

Next we moved on to Wat Xieng Thong, considered by the locals to be the most important symbol of their country's religous heritage. It was getting hot by now so to stand under a tree listening to our guide's life story was a pleasant way to pass a few minutes before we were free to roam the magnificence of the buildings at our leisure. 

Parade paraphernalia - mega gong ...

... Sedan chair type thing containing gold Buddha ...

... Multi-headed Naga (dragon) on wheels  

And amazing wall carvings. 

Another zip along and we pulled in at Wat Aham, the oldest temple in the town which boasts an enormous gilded statue and highly decorated walls depicting all the stories the monks learn about paths to enlightenment, and to hell. Gruesome. 

The oldest temple in Luang Prabang, hence the simpler design (really?) We liked the chaps outside.

Ming 

And Mong *

The biggest Buddah we've ever seen - he was probably 25 ft tall.

Ethnic bingo**

Feeling pretty templed-out by now we were happy to be informed that lunch was next on the agenda but not before a brief stop at an amazing vantage point for fabulous views across the river and to see something Ken had previously referred to - the bamboo bridge. This incredible structure has to be rebuilt every year as the rainy season waters simply wash it away.

Couldn't resist taking the inevitable selfie - such tourists!

Lunch was a set menu Lao affair providing yet more opportunity to push ourselves to taste things we'd probably never have chosen. Most of it I can't remember the names of but it included chicken baked in lemongrass, a delicious plum cocktail and dessert consisting of guava, jujube, longan and tamarind - all fruits and all delicious. What an experience. 

Banana & coconut smoothie and Jujube and Plum Mocktail.

Next it was off to the silk farm - Ock Pop Tok - which was started by two women, a Lao master weaver keen to keep the tradition alive and a Western woman who wanted to support this female-dominated art, and so was born East Meets West or Ock Pop Tok in Lao). Here we saw the young silkworms, cocoons forming the raw silk and every complex and detailed step of the dying and weaving process. It's unbelievably skilled and, by the admission of the male guide, one which men simply don't have the dexterity or patience to undertake, another reason why the art is important to sustain for the womenfolk. 

Silkworms on a bed of mulberry, the cocoons form, natural dyes using tree bark, plants or rock, and the weaving shed. I would have loved to buy something truly dramatic but know that, back home, an intricate 10 foot long Asian wall hanging would probably look out of place. 

Final stop (and by now we're flagging - hot and in need of a second cooling shower of the day so could be forgiven if our attention span was short) was the ethnic centre to learn more about the Hmong and the other 48 ethnic groups that make up the rich tapestry of Lao life. I took pictures of pictures but think they are beautiful none the less. 

Making incense sticks

Handicrafts - baby goes to work too 

Embroidery class.

And if YOU are exhausted reading this, imagine how we felt. A nap was very much required but it had been a really fun day. 

* Not really - I made their names up

**Sorry - made that up too. Actually this is a sort of astrology cum fortune cookie 'game'. Shouldn't diss it really but it does sound a little far-fetched. 

"Sabaidee. My name is Khen"

When we were met at Luang Prabang airport yesterday our guide introduced himself as Ken. "That's nice and easy to remember", says I. "Probably not his birth name", replies HRH who, from experience knows that (certainly in China) many from the East adopt western names. "No, truly", says Ken, "but I'll tell you the story of my name tomorrow". Intrigued? We were ....

Ken's parents tried for many years for a baby, with no success. They adopted four children but still yearned for their own child. Being of the Hmong ethnic group they believe in spirits and so visited caves and forests etc to ask for the blessings of a child. One day, whilst at their temple, a monk gave them a bowl of water, told them to drink it and if they were not blessed within three months, to return. Sure enough they got "a pregnant" (so cute when he said that with a big smile on his face) and so, because they believe he was a gift from the holy man they named him Khen (which means gift). Furthermore, three days after he was born his parents gave their baby back to the monk for three days, before they returned home together, promising that he would return to the monastery before he married. 

As a growing child Khen was lazy, by his own admission. He didn't enjoy working in the fields, and was often berated for being slow. One day it was decided he should go and get an education in a monastery. Before he could go he had to complete a registration document and was asked to enter his age. He had no idea when his birthday was - his people live by the seasons and do not observe a calendar like we do. "You must give your birthday!" he was told. All he knew from his parents was that he was born in the hot season. So he chose May. "And a day", said the registrar. Khen told us he thought of a number in the middle, but then wanted to be higher - so he chose 25. Thinking that would do, he handed back his paper. "You must put which year!" They weren't giving up. Khen looked to the boy on his left who had written 1988, and to the boy on his right. 1986. And so he wrote 1987 ... And to this day he gives his birthday as 25th May 1987 and he really likes this date, because he chose it himself!

Meet Khen, or Ken - our gift. 

Khen thought he would stay in the monastery for maybe 10 days. In fact he remained for two years. "What made you decide to stay?" "Good question - I tell you". 

One day, after prayer Khen saw one of the monks talking to white people. When he approached he realised they were talking in a different way. "Why are you talking to the white people in this way?, asks Khen. "This is English". "What is English?" "It's a language people speak in other parts of the world. It might help you to get a job". "What is a job?", asks Khen. And this conversation went on ... "What is a salary?", "What is money?" And so on, and so on. Eventually, the penny dropped that if Khen could speak English he would not have to work in the fields but could spend his time being paid to speak  ... And so that's what he does. True story. 

Life on Two Wheels

Despite the fact that there are many large, expensive cars in evidence in Siem Reap (mostly Korean, Japanese and British at that), the significant majority of natives rely heavily on two wheels. The astonishing thing is what they manage to transport on their bicycles or mopeds. So far, apart from the washing machine strapped to one in Phnom Penh, we've seen pig carcasses, whole 'kitchens' (barbecue, cooking pots, fuel, ingredients etc all ready to set up shop somewhere), crates of live chickens, sacks of rice, blocks of ice, and crops. 

Unfortunately most are travelling at such speed that it's tricky to catch them on film but this chap and his bales of rice grass was moving obligingly slowly.

Their imagination, dexterity and skill is driven largely by necessity but they are certainly well practised, starting at a young age. We are told there's no requirement for a license to ride a moped and as such they start as young as 10 in the countryside, but if you want to progress to tuk tuk driver in town then once you reach 18 a license IS required. Of course, the cost is often prohibitive and explains why many start with a bicycle, save hard to progress to a moped and then make maximum use of it amongst all members of the family ... and neighbours! 

Today it was our turn. Last night when we made plans with our guide for today's cycle trek we tentatively suggested a slightly later start time. "8.30am maybe?" says HRH questionningly. Sharp intake of breath and a wry chuckle followed from Mr Lim. "7.30am is better. Ok?" Very well ....

So once again the alarm was set for 6.30am, we breakfasted before most were awake and were sun-tan-lotioned up by the agreed time. And what a good job we took his advice! 

Today, instead of an air-conditioned car, we set off out of town in a tuk tuk with three mountain bikes on the back. Our trek was to take us out into the countryside to see some of the local agriculture along roads no more than bumpy, sandy, stony tracks with little shade and clouds of dust for the slowest (guess who?) to inhale. Fortunately the tuk tuk followed along behind us carrying our bags and fresh supplies of water. 

It's incredible that on this side of the world an entirely different flora and fauna sustain life than those we see at home. You learn about these things in school and know instinctively that temperate climates sustain one type of agriculture and that more tropical heat and humidity are required for other crops but somehow it only becomes real when you see it for yourself. The coconut palms are not just for decoration - they provide food, drink, construction materials and shade. And so it goes on ....

Tobacco - in someone's garden, for personal consumption only.

Jack fruit - these are the size of basketballs.

Fields of eggplant - the purple ones we recognised are only one of three species here.

Local farmer watering his crops - with the skinniest cows you've ever seen.

After 10k or so the sandy track and the heat got the better of me so I opted to complete the tour in the tuk tuk whilst HRH soldiered on. 

Bye bye - see you soon.

Another 5k later and we were reunited. It has occurred to us more than once that we are so very different coming, as we do, from such varied backgrounds and yet are so very similar as humans. Sareth in Phnom Penh has two small children, his youngest the same age as Polly - and whose favourite song is 'The Wheels on the Bus'! Today Mr Lim showed us his home - recently purchased, and where he has work to do but where he has already installed his chickens - essentially we're just 'same same'! 

Messing About on the River

If I have learned nothing else on this holiday it is never to take for granted how lucky I am. Another trip, another eye watering experience, another series of incredible photographs bear witness to sights I might only otherwise have seen in books or on the television and STILL have difficulty believing. For these people this is their LIFE. It is sometimes hard not to feel like a voyeur so perhaps, if you are reading this, you will accept the need of my conscience to share, even if in some small way, so that others who might not choose to visit are at least aware. Soom aw kuhn. 

Almost an hour's drive out of Siem Reap after another early start we realised we were now on a single track red dirt road lined with shacks either side, beyond which falls away the bank to the water way below. These timber and grass constructions on stilts are the homes, businesses and storage units of countless families who choose to live along the banks of the Tonle Sap lake and the waterways that it feeds. As explained by Mr Lim this way of life is all these people know, never having a chance to leave and learn other skills, and so perpetuating an existence heavily dependent on fish, what rice they can grow in their paddy fields and traded goods when available. For all that they appear content, busy going about their daily routines with everyone pitching in to make their world go round.

The bamboo stilts last 6 years, then have to be replaced.

We are in the dry season at the moment. In a few months when the rain comes the  water will rise to the level of the houses on the higher level. Those lower down will have their anchors loosened so they float.

The low water level makes for muddy work. In the wet season it is clear and abundant with bounty. 

These stakes mark a netted fishing area.

The whole family set off to work.

Racks of fish drying in a smokery.

Heartbreakingly adorable, helping mum and grandma to wash, thread and stack fish.

Some people choose solitude...

... others group together in large communities. These are the people of Kompong Kleang and this my humble tribute.

Stuffed Frog Anyone?

Bless him! HRH does take me to the nicest of places. Not sure tonight's supper would rank amongst the most salubrious of 'restaurants' but the fare was perhaps the most fascinating I've ever eaten. 

We started our street market food tour at a different hotel where we were to join with others signed up to the same experience - only to find there weren't any! Just us - private tour again then.

New guide, 25 year old Dyuimchuk (Dynamic for short) showed us to a tuk tuk and we headed out of town. First stop - hop out, cross a semi-constructed road, dodging the Friday evening rush-hour, and head to what looked like a row of shacks. HRH had apparently posed a small problem to the tour guide being vegetarian, so this stop was especially for him. 

Noodle cakes, flavoured with 'little bit sweet little bit chilli', wrapped in rice 'paper' and shallow fried - "but you can't eat it now. Too hot". Takeaway tucker for him then. Moving on ....

Palm sugar being squeezed from the cane. We declined a drink at this point. The flies seemed to be particularly partial though.

Various native fruits - including tamarind and jack fruit (can't remember the name of the first one). We bought some jack fruit to have as dessert 'later'.

I confess one or two of the available options most certainly didn't appeal, not least the boiled duck eggs - this being a fertilised egg, you understand. Boil, peel off the shell, eat small duck foetus inside with sticky rice! No thank you! We did however pick up some rice flour and coconut cream wafer biscuits to accompany our jack fruit, before hopping back into the tuk tuk and off to the Cambodian equivalent of Wellesbourne market! 

First port of call here was the insect aisle where, before moving on to 'barbequeing', I tried cricket and silkworm but stopped short of water beetle. Stephen certainly enjoyed this bit - he was operating the video camera! - although to be fair they weren't bad, just different. 

The darker ones in the background are fried crickets. Westerners apparently don't much like the heads, wings and legs so I got mine peeled! The pale silkworms taste like peanut paste with a crunchy outside. Didn't fancy a waterbeetle! 

The barbecue section was next. Unbelievably hot, I have no idea how the vendors cope, many wearing long sleeves for protection presumably, against burns. I sampled a weird sausage on a stick and marvelled at the array of beautifully butterflied chicken, the numerous types and sizes of fish and some more exotic fare like whole splayed quail, 

I chose stuffed frog!

Again this was set aside for later - at this point we still had no idea when, how or even if we were actually going to be dining on this gathered harvest. And in fact our final destination was not revealed for another half hour or so, during which we were 'treated' to the fun fair end of the market. This was not our idea of entertainment - loud music, bright lights and cheap Khmer versions of 'roll up roll up' type games - so HRH made appropriate noises about the time and we headed to 'supper'.

A short stroll later and we were installed on a pavement-side mat, shoes off of course, next to a vendor who was to prepare our traditional soup. I was given the choice of sticky rice or noodles and chicken or pork. At this stage it felt like there was nothing to lose so I told Dynamic to choose for me. Stephen got the same without the exciting bit!!! When it arrived it turned out my 'added extra' was soft, semi-solid chicken blood chunks. The slices of water lily stem garnish were nice though, and like the 'game bird' I try to be, whilst also not insulting our 'chef', down it all went. Not sure about the crunchy bits in the stuffed frog - otherwise it was ok. 

Stephen, on our dinner mat

My supper, laid out in its various plastic bag containers - frog, sauce and tamarind paste.

Diving in - couldn't eat it all though. Stephen suggested I might take a 'froggy bag' home - ha ha!

PS Jack fruit is delicious.

Thom and Prohm

5.00am is not a time you want to encounter on holiday. But today was special. 30 minutes later we were in our car with Mr Lim, and breakfast safely tucked away in the boot for 'later'! Destination: sunrise at Ta Promh. 

After a short drive out of town we parked up on a patch of open dirt space, in the dark, and Mr Lim ushered us towards a hole in a wall by torchlight! The first thing we noticed was the noise - incredible sounds of the jungle (geckos, pounder birds, screaming squirrel) and the quiet murmuring of a few other voices. All very surreal until gradually, albeit within just a few minutes, the light improved and there in front of us was revealed the beginnings of Ta Promh. Founded as a Bhuddist monastery and university, unlike most Angkorian temples, Ta Prohm has been left in much the same condition in which it was found. These ruins are unique in that many of the ancient trees which once engulfed the monastery after it was abandoned are still visible growing through, on or over the stonework. All this makes for an incredibly atmospheric and eerie place, one where mosquito bats roost, where the jungle is within a few steps and where sunrise has never felt more mystical. 

The tree in the centre of this image is growing ON the roof.

Cheeky!

Actually it's another giant root.

At Ta Prohm - where the strangler figs engulf the ruins.

Moving on, as the heat of the sun quickly made its presence known, we arrived at Angkor Thom (Great City) which covers an area of 9 km², at the centre of which stands the king's state temple, the Bayon with the other temples clustered around the area. The predominant design style here is the four-faced Buddha in the shape of a lotus bud, of which there are hundreds, mostly bearing a charming and enigmatic smile. 

Arriving at Angkor Thom

Four faces, symbolic of the four seasons or something.

Within the Bayon.

Nosey! 

Elephumps!

And as if all this wasn't enough, when breakfast emerged from the boot of the car it was in beautiful wicker baskets containing fruit, pastries, yoghourt, and much more we simply couldn't manage. That was a pretty special moment - sharing an early morning picnic in the jungle, close to a dais where I later received a friendship bracket and a blessing from a monk!