An unfair advantage and wedded blisth
So here I was in Luang Nam Tha in northern Laos without a trek and wanting to explore. Here I bumped into a photographer (whose name I cannot bloody remember) and his Chinese friend. We decided to head out with the camera on a bit of a 24km bike trail taking in some of the local villages on our way. As the photographer’s friend couldn’t ride a bike they hired a moped whilst I, feeling in need of exercise, hired a bicycle. What a stupid plan… mopeds are faster than bikes! I was knackered all the way around as I peddled hard to catch up with the dots on the horizon.
One small mercy was that on the way round we stopped for lunch and we stumbled into a wedding taking part right by the street side stalls. Some pissed Laos guy practically dragged us inside and not being one to turn down a drink I willingly agreed. As soon as we went in we were greeted by lots of drunken cheers and pulled onto the dance floor for a Laos version of the conga! After that ordeal was over we were ushered to a table and being the only ‘Falang’ (westerners) there we were centre of attention. This extra attention meant that everyone was rushing at us with a bottle of what we found out was called ‘Lao Lao’. Before we knew it a shared shot glass was topped up and thrust under our noses. Lao Lao is supposed to be a particularly strong rice wine but it tasted more like a mix of camel piss and pond water, a definite possibility as I hadn’t seen a single camel in Laos and there were plenty of dried out ponds!
Dry season my arse!
Well after having 2 shots each it was decided that because I was the youngest and as I was on a bicycle instead of a moped then I would fend of cultural embarrassment by having the resulting shots that the other 2 turned down. It didn’t dawn on me at that point that I was shortly going to be riding my bike for another 15km and the moped had a passenger who should have taken it for the team. After 6 of these shots we decided it was time to leave and cycle home. Dehydration, midday sun and lao lao don’t mix, I got on the bike, hit a bump and stacked the bike within minutes.
Don’t drink and ride boys and girls, even if it is a dusty muddy track with nothing more dangerous in your path than a randy water buffalo
One small mercy was that on the way round we stopped for lunch and we stumbled into a wedding taking part right by the street side stalls. Some pissed Laos guy practically dragged us inside and not being one to turn down a drink I willingly agreed. As soon as we went in we were greeted by lots of drunken cheers and pulled onto the dance floor for a Laos version of the conga! After that ordeal was over we were ushered to a table and being the only ‘Falang’ (westerners) there we were centre of attention. This extra attention meant that everyone was rushing at us with a bottle of what we found out was called ‘Lao Lao’. Before we knew it a shared shot glass was topped up and thrust under our noses. Lao Lao is supposed to be a particularly strong rice wine but it tasted more like a mix of camel piss and pond water, a definite possibility as I hadn’t seen a single camel in Laos and there were plenty of dried out ponds!
Dry season my arse!
Well after having 2 shots each it was decided that because I was the youngest and as I was on a bicycle instead of a moped then I would fend of cultural embarrassment by having the resulting shots that the other 2 turned down. It didn’t dawn on me at that point that I was shortly going to be riding my bike for another 15km and the moped had a passenger who should have taken it for the team. After 6 of these shots we decided it was time to leave and cycle home. Dehydration, midday sun and lao lao don’t mix, I got on the bike, hit a bump and stacked the bike within minutes.
Don’t drink and ride boys and girls, even if it is a dusty muddy track with nothing more dangerous in your path than a randy water buffalo
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