Where to begin? Just attempting to write this entry brings back a surge of emotions we never hoped to revisit. But for you, our four dear readers, we would go to the ends of the earth and back. Unfortunately, this experience was the worst of our lives… ok maybe not, but it’s more fun to exaggerate.
It began harmlessly enough as we got into a van around 8pm that would arrive at our next destination, Sam Neua, around 4am. We figured we would fall right asleep and wake up to arrive at our next hotel unharmed. Easier said than done. Ironically, the “driver” simply did not know how to drive. He drifted around cliff corners in the pitch black at forty or fifty miles an hour. Turning the wheel one millisecond too late would have been the end of the world as we know it (imagine the tune as you sing along). The other two locals were fast asleep as we began pleading with the “driver” to slow down. His reaction made us feel as sick as his driving: he laughed creepily and uncontrollably. We weren’t sure if he was a Laotian or some sick horror film actor sent to radiate chills up and down our spines. At around midnight, we made him pull over and begged a random minivan of locals who spoke NO English to take us ANYWHERE. Either they didn’t understand or they were in on this demented joke. Knowing we couldn’t sleep on the side of the road (which we would’ve paid to do) for safety’s sake, we had only two options left. Jen prayed for the first (and last) time in her life and Cam took a chill pill (not for the first or last time). We held hands, bawled and watched for the first signs of sunrise. We arrived in physically pristine condition, yet emotionally destroyed. The night ahead was plagued by nightmares and sleeplessness.
We had come to Sam Neua to see some allegedly spectacular caves but didn’t have the willpower to re-enter a moving vehicle for a couple of days. Knowing we had to meet B-Sun in Hanoi the next day, we had no option but to nourish ourselves with our first bowl of Pho, buy a ticket to Vietnam and be on our not-so-merry way.
After confirming that Cam’s lost wallet had (of course) not been turned in, we departed the bus station en route to Hanoi. About two hours from the Laos/Vietnam border, an hour from any form of civilization and completely engulfed by rice paddies, the bus came to a halt and the driver demanded that the two American girls sitting behind us pay an extra $10 US each or they would have to leave the bus. Acting on principle and already the victims of a scam earlier in the morn, they took their bags, disembarked, and attempted to hitch their way to Vietnam. Before we had even reached the border, this episode put a very bad taste for Vietnam in our mouths (and a probably worse taste for these two friends of ours). Unable to help, we wished them the best, quickly exchanged information and each went on our ways. We eventually made it to the border, crossed over with only slight passport trouble and felt the unforgettable and slightly orgasmic feeling of paved highway for the first time in two weeks.
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