"International Border" Disaster

Sabaidee (Hello in Lao)!

We are happily writting to you from Luang Prabang, wine glasses of "Crazy BOB" in hand, after enjoying the most relaxing hour of our trip thus far. We each just received a full body massage that far exceded our expectations for just 50,000 kip (1 USD=8,000 kip). We have come a long way from what you are about to read. Upon completing this post, we hope you will join us in breathing a huge sigh of relief!!!

Let's take a step back...you need to understand that prior to crossing the Vietnam-Laos border, we responsibly did our research in several cities, asking, reading, and cross referencing the process and best route to cross by land, given our tight budgets. Little did we know all of this would be in vain.

Our bus from Sapa to Dien Bien Phu, a border town, brought us a new set of Italian friends who we would spend the following week with. Let us introduce the characters...da ta da ta (drum roll)!!! Eliza and Michele have been traveling together throughout Asia for 2.5 years after working in New Zealand and Australia for even longer. They are just two weeks away from the end of their travels; we were happy to be part of their last impressions.

After being told by multiple sources that the border was either broken, or the bus was full, as a cohort, the four of us decided to skip the 5:30am bus and get a taxi at 8:30am. We arrived at the Vietnam exit point and had our single entry visa's terminated. There was no going back... Acording to the Lonely Planet and other sources, we should have been able to take a motorbike taxi over the 6km dirt road with all our luggage. Upon arrival, there were no vehicles in sight which the Veitnamese border patrol seemed to find hilarious. After tromping through the mud in no man's land, each carrying two backpacks, we arrived victoriously to the Laos border, US dollars and passports in hand. The visa paperwork went smoothly...and then we were asked to pay... Despite our seemingly flawless preperation, we discovered the prices were higher than anticipated and collectively we were missing 11 USD. Our two available ATM's were back in Vietnam or 250km deep into Laos (two towns, two buses, a boat ride, and 12 hours). Panic ensued...

Four hours later, after extensive pleading, arguing, and general commotion with various passing vehicles, we recieved a donation of 12 USD from two foreigners entering Vientam. Victoriously, our visas were approved! At this time we had 0 USD to get to Laos, and once again panic ensued...

We exhausted all possibilites. Michele was forced to drive a borrowed moped back to the Vientnam exit to meet his Australian friend who exchanged 100 USD for a personal check from Lisa. Money now in hand, we began to offer all vehicles entering Laos copious amountes of money to take us to the next ATM (250 km away). Very few vehicles were headed to Laos that day and we negotiated with a semi truck carrying pipes in an open bed, a minibus carrying stinky caged chickens, pigs, and dogs, and a plethora of mopeds. Flabbergasted, we realized no one was enticed by our offer, or pittied our situation, or had good karma. At this point, we were in for yet another homestay experience, this time with the military personel at the Laos border.

Our only option was to order a round of BeerLao, the official, and most delicious local beer. With no infrastructure for "guests," we were confined to the visa processing area and three shacks housing a communal bed, a small resturaunt, and the "bar", no bathroom included. We passed the time by consuming the only menu options; noodle soup, fried bananas and BeerLao. Michele tried to hang up his sopping sweatshirt to dry and was told by the head guard that visible laundry was not permitted at an "international border". Complying to instruction we observed men playing football amongst free roaming chickens, none of which were dressed in "international border" uniforms. Sunset ensued.

On the top of a mountain, surrounded by jungle, we needed a place to sleep and got creative. Realizing the processing offices had been abandoned by the staff for a game of soccer, we secretly explored them for a covered place to sleep. Gabi and Eliza returned with thier arms covered in visa acceptance stamps, but no place to sleep. After setting up camp under a cement stairwell protecting us from the windchill, seven guards entered our "bedroom" and physically removed us while threatenting to put is in handcuffs and send us back to Vietnam. Mind you, our single entry visas were now expired. Realizing we had taken photos, they proceeded to snatch our cameras from our bags and after deleting the incriminating photos, returned them to us. The head guard did not want us under a roof. He had bad karma.

As soon as the head guard had gone to bed, the military personel invited us into their shack bar. A minivan with a driver arrived to our exitement, however after one hour we realized he had only come to the Laos border for the "shack bar" and was too drunk to drive us. He even went as far as inciting a fist fight with the military personel. With no other option, we joined the party enjoing free BeerLao, courtesy of the Lao military, and even finding women (wives, cooks, and cleaing staff) to start a dance party.

Graciously, two of the military personel offered us space on their communal bed in the neighboring shack. Scheptical, yet exhausted and desperate for warmth and a place to lay our heads, we accepted the offer. Five hours later, the four of us huddled together for warmth, awoke to rats and fleas and a man standing in our doorway staring at us sheepishly. We went to the resturaunt for a second round of noodle soup and instant coffee, freshly energized for a new day of adventure.

Four hours into our day, we sighted a bus on the horizon of no man's land approaching the Laos border. We cheered and without hesitation sprinted to the vehicle. Thirty skeptical western travelers watched as the bus charged us four times the amount they had paid for the same bus ticket to the next town. After extensive arguing, we laoded the overflowing bus and found our seats on the ground. Our mumpy, muddy bus ride through flooding rivers depostited us at a boat taking us across the river to our first village...still no ATM. The four of us had just enough to buy yet another bowl of noodle soup, a shared bottle of water and a bus ticket to the next town. When the bus stopped at the ATM the foreigners aboard cheered, to the confusion of the Lao passengers. Thirty-six hours later, covered in a layer of dirt, sweat, utter shock and with unbrushed teeth, we had reached an "international ATM!!!"

Joyious celebrations ensued...please join us in a sigh of relief.

Despite our tumultuous entrance, Laos would soon swoon us with its laid back nature, friendly people and breathtaking scenery.