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As always, trying to get information on traveling like a local from locals was like pulling teeth. For those who managed to actually get on a local bus they had to face super inflated prices, dangers and the occasional incident with police. Fortunately, for once we weren’t trying to travel like locals, as we only had 18 days to see the entire country and couldn’t waste the time. So, for $34 per person, we bought the open bus ticket that let us get on and off at six different destinations while traveling the 1000+ mile stretch between Ho Chi Min (Saigon) in the south and Hanoi in the north.

Buses ranged in duration from a few hours to overnight. They could be nice comfy AC ones just as easily as a teeny minibuses that crammed people, bags and even a motorbike into the seating area. The worst ride we had was an overnight one where we were in the front row behind the driver. There was no leg room and I was forced to rest my feet on either a fire extinguisher or the driver’s toothbrush holder all night.

When I did manage to fall asleep, I was woken up every few minutes by the sound of a horn: either ours or that of another driver. When I would open my eyes for a second I usually saw the bright headlights of oncoming traffic heading right at us from the driver’s window. I guess passing cars when he didn’t have enough time or space to do so and driving in the shoulder of the wrong lane was how he stayed awake all night.

On another sleeper bus the seats in front of us reclined so far that the only position I could sleep in was with my body completely straight, bracing myself against the wheel hump on the floor in front of me. At one point it was so uncomfortable that I took my blanket and slept on the floor for the rest of the night.

Cyclos
Buses aside, the other transportation method we used was the cyclo. Propelled by a Vietnamese man on a bicycle, it is a variation of your classic bike rickshaw. The seats are big enough for one person to fit comfortably, though locals often cram whole families onto one cyclo. As for us, we managed to both get into one only once. The other times they told us we were too big and had to take two. Really, they just wanted more money.

The primary way for both tourists and locals to get around the country is via air conditioned bus. These range from deluxe first class to ones where the AC barely works. Either way, there is not much to write about these as anyone who has ever taken a long distance bus can picture the inside easily. Perhaps the only noteworthy part is the fact that loud Cambodian karaoke videos are blasting over the speaker system for most of the ride.

As for the Cambodian tuk tuk, it differs a bit from any I have seen in other countries. The actual carriage part is attached to a standard motorcycle by a clamp that straps onto the middle of the bike seat. The carriage can move from left to right but has a slight delay from when the bike actually makes the move first. It is also far less stable than other tuk tuks, as if the motorcycle falls over, it will take the carriage with it.

We knew that we were going to be traveling during monsoon season but, up until arriving at Kratie, it had never affected our plans. However, shortly after arriving the deluge began and we had no choice but to hole up in our hotel for the night instead of doing our planned activities. This was a big bummer, as our schedule had us on the first bus out the next morning and the town became a casualty of war.

The next day our early morning bus took us to Phnom Penh, the capital, where we had to drop off our passports at the Vietnam embassy to get a visa. We originally thought the process would take a long time and we would have to spend the night but it took less than five minutes.

At this point we decided to try and make the last bus of the day to Siem Reap that was leaving in 10 minutes on the other side of town. A taxi or tuk tuk would never make it so we hopped on the back of motorcycle taxis and sped off. Weaving in and out of traffic we narrowly avoided cars, trucks and other motos…but we made it on time. And then the rain began.

We finally made it to Siem Reap at nearly 10pm after leaving Kratie at 7am and hopped into a motorcycle tuk tuk to take us to our hotel. The monsoon rains were still falling and halfway into our ride the moto started to skid out in the mud. Bags went flying out of the open sides as we slipped down a small hill: the driver trying hard to get the vehicle under control.

We finally came to an abrupt stop and got off to reclaim our bags and survey the damage. No one was hurt and everything seemed fine until I discovered what actually caused the tuk tuk to stop: my DSLR camera backpack wedged under the wheel! We won’t go into the mini-freak out I had but when we finally arrived at the hotel I got to survey the damage.

Looking at my stuff I realized that the wheel had come to rest right on top of my big super zoom lens. Fortunately, I had a filter attached to the front of it that absorbed most of the damage. The filter glass had shattered and the ring that screws onto the actual lens was badly bent and could not be removed, but the lens itself still worked. To this day the filter ring is still on there and a few shards of glass remain. Guess it’s something I have to take care of when I get home.

Tourist Travel: Buses, Sleeper Buses and Minivans
Like most countries, Laos offers tourists pre-packaged ways to get from one popular destination to the next at a price way higher than local transportation. The advantage of taking one of these AC minivans or comfy first class buses is that they pick you up at your guesthouse and take care of all transfers along the way.

Overnight trips are taken on sleeper buses that literally have beds instead of seats. Some beds are big enough for one, others have space for two, though barely. The twin beds are very narrow and too short to lay straight on the back. This worked out fine for Carrie and I since we just curled into a ball and fell asleep next to each other, but we know some people traveling alone who got stuck with random strangers in their bed.

While we sometimes took the packaged buses, we also tried to do it ourselves in order to pay less and travel like the locals. While we always got to our destination, we often found that it took far longer, was more uncomfortable and cost just about as much. We still got the foreigner price, even on local transportation, and got none of the frills. Still, that didn’t stop us from trying.

Songthaew:
Take an oversized, rickety and old flatbed truck. Put benches on either side of the cab and possibly a third bench in the middle. Then put a canopy attached to poles overhead and cram on as many people as humanly possible. That’s a songthaew and the most common way to travel as these are the only public buses offered. Bags, chickens, bikes and anything else people carry are placed on the roof or tied to the rear bumper, which usually has an extended grate for stepping or storing.

On one particularly uncomfortable three hour ride from Champasak to the 4,000 Islands we joined 21 other people in the back of a songthaew, bumping our way over potholes and dirt roads. Tied to the back bumper were about a dozen pigs in a wicker basket and a few more stuffed into sacks: all tied down with rope, squealing and sending their stink wafting into the songthaew. I had a guy next to me for a while who used me as a pillow. Carrie was pointed at and discussed in the local language for a few minutes after we got on. Best of all, we paid as much as we would have if we had taken the AC bus. Gotta love traveling!

In towns there are other types of songthaews that are a hybrid of pickup truck and tuk tuk. Maybe 10 feet long, they run on three wheels, have a single seat up front for the driver and a cab-like back with benches on either side. They hold less people than their truck counterparts and go way slower, which is why they are not used for long distances.

Tuk Tuk:
Aside from the songthaew tuk tuk, Laos also has smaller versions of these popular Asian taxis. Still using only three wheels, the driver sits on what looks like the front half of a motorcycle (it is also driven like one) with an area to put his feet. The back part has two benches like a songthaew but is significantly smaller and can fit only four people (as long as they don’t have bags) comfortably…or as comfortably as one can sit on a wooden bench in a vehicle with no shocks.

Boats:
With the Mekong running through the entire country as well as tons of other rivers and lakes, boat travel is very popular in Laos. Options range from speedboats to ferries, motorized canoes, barges and even a long wooden boat big enough for hundreds. But more on that later.

Street vendors selling chicken, drinks and more surround our sangthaw in southern Laos

We spent the night dancing and having a blast before going to bed at around 8am. Reuben returned. Karen came back. But where was Claire? This was the question we were still asking at 7pm when I hopped onto the back of a motorcycle driven by a Thai friend I had made. Our destinations? Health clinics and the police station to see if anyone had seen the girl whose passport I held in my hand. None of us knew what to do but we were very worried.

My friend told me that people go missing all the time and if she didn’t show up and we filed a police report that we would have to stay on the island until she surfaced. I had no luck on our motorcycle ride, but upon returning what did I see? Claire chatting with the girls telling a story about meeting new friends and winding up on the other side of the island with no cell phone. Thank goodness she was ok but what an experience for us.

The next day we all said our goodbyes and Carrie and started our 700 kilometer journey north to Chang Mai for some trekking. We had gone against our usual method of travel and booked a direct trip to Bangkok through a tour agent to make our life easier. Our taxi left the hotel at 11am and we next joined thousands of Westerners boarding a boat to what we thought was Surat Thani.

In reality the boat dropped us off a few hours later at some dock somewhere in Thailand where busses waited to take us the rest of the way. We were among the last people off the boat by the time we finally got our bags all of the busses were full and we had to wait on this random dock for nearly two hours before the next bus came.

When we finally arrived in Surat Thani we were left at a bus terminal in the middle of nowhere so we had no choice but to buy their overpriced food. Our bus left 30 minutes late and got into Bangkok 30 minutes early: at 4:30am. We hopped in a cab to the train station, booked an 8:30am train to Chang Mai and waited in the terminal for it to leave.

A twelve hour train ride later we got to Chang Mai. got in a cab, found a hotel and passed out.

Final tally:
3 taxis
2 bus rides
1 boat ride
1 train ride
34 hours of travel

Add the 26 hours to get from Malaysia to the full moon party and you get 60 hours of travel in 6 days. Had we skipped the full moon party and flown from Malaysia to Chang Mai it would have taken 3 hours. Was it worth it? 100%!

“Can you help me? I seem to have gotten lost in southwest Thailand and am trying to find my way back onto the backpacking trail.” These are the types of thoughts that Carrie and I have had lately after our visit to the Andaman coast. It started in Krabi, where we headed to after Bangkok to check out some beaches, the stunning limestone crags that line the sea and to do some diving.

Upon arriving in Krabi, we quickly found that our ideas of finding a cheap local boat to take us around to the crags and beaches would not work. The system in place makes it very difficult to do anything yourself unless you know the right people or have a large group to split the costs. If you are traveling solo, or with one other person, there is little other choice than to go through a tourist agent to book a tour.

For two days we shopped around, comparing tour options and prices while trying to coordinate with our friend Sean that we met in Bangkok. In the end, we found a few we liked but first had to head to Kho Lak to see about scuba diving.

Though only two hours away, everyone we talked to said the only way to get there was an overpriced AC minivan. Even the locals we talked to said that it was the way to go, so we booked it and hopped onto the van that picked us up at our hotel…can’t complain about that. However, a mere five minutes later we pulled into a restaurant parking lot and were told to grab our bags and get off.

We soon learned that tour agencies sell tourists these rides without coordinating with the actual van company. Upon arriving at the restaurant everyone gets off the van and is given a little sticker with the name of their destination. The staff then has to figure out how many people are going where…and how to get them all onto the few vans that they have. For more popular destinations there is no problem, but some people had to go out of their way to drop off others first: no problem in a bus, but they paid for a direct shuttle!

Everyone was also told that they could be dropped off at their hotel if they had one, and if not the company had to book them a hotel or they would be left at the edge of town. This was just a ploy to get hotel commission, as in the end everyone was dropped off at the same place in Kho Lak and the driver refused to take people to their hotels. Thankfully, we knew better…but some in our van did not.

Getting around Sri Lanka is a bit tough, especially when you leave the bigger cities. The primary method of transportation is what can best be described as a public bus from 1981 with the remains of the same seats it was built with. There are luggage racks that hang from the ceilings, but they rarely big enough for our small day packs, let alone our large backpacks. At times there is room under the seats for our bags, but they usually wind up propped against a door or some in an aisle against an unfortunate Sri Lankan’s legs. At times, they even share the same space as the driver’s gear shift.

Rickety and shock-free, the buses go barreling down the road while passing cars by heading into oncoming traffic. However, this is no different from India and actually seems normal by now. For a slower and more tranquil ride, coach mini-buses are also available with air conditioning for about five times the price of the public bus. These usually go express with far fewer stops and have more comfortable seats, although they still find a way to cram them in there.

If buses aren’t your thing then all aboard a Sri Lankan train. However, unlike in India where the railroad is the most efficient method of transportation, a ride here often takes a few hours longer. This is especially in the hill country where it must chug up and down mountains, but the views are usually more stunning and the ride much smoother. As for the trains themselves, the cars are quite small: usually four seats wide with an aisle in the middle and have no sleeper sections. There are first, second and third classes, with second being Carrie and my section of choice.

Once in a town, the fastest, though not cheapest, way to get around is a three wheeler (aka auto-rickshaw, tuk tuk or taxi). All prices start out at least double what locals pay and we always have to negotiate to as close as we can get to a fair price. Even once we arrive the driver often tries to get a few extra rupees out of us and we have to stand strong and let them know they can’t change the price after we agreed on it.

Just under two months into our trip we hit Kanyakumari and the southernmost tip of India where the Arabian Sea, Bay of Bengal and Indian Ocean meet. In our one night there we watched the sunset over all three bodies of water, saw the place where Gandhi’s ashes were laid to rest before being swept out to sea and enjoyed the view from our amazing balcony. In fact, the specific room we stayed in was actually recommended, by number, in our guidebook. The next morning I woke up dark and early to watch the sunrise over the same three bodies of water from our rooftop. It was beautiful, but due to a layer of haze I didn’t actually see the sun until it had been above the horizon for nearly 20 minutes.

A few hours later it was time to check out and begin our trip to Kodaikanal. Most towns have countless tourist offices where you can book tours, trains, buses or just get general information. After asking four such offices for the bus schedule and getting four different answers, we headed to where one of them told us the bus station was. Naturally, after a long  walk in the blazing sun with our giant backpacks, we learned that the bus stop was actually right up the street from the tourist office. Uuuugh!

Hot and sweaty we tried to get a rickshaw to take us the 2 kilometers to the bus station but they all were charging obnoxiously high prices so we waited for the local bus into town that would end its trip at the station. Naturally, even the bus found a way to overcharge us, which I realized when I looked at the sign right in front of my face listing distances and fares. Tired and not wanting to deal with making a scene over a few cents, I forced myself to bite my tongue.

Once in the bus terminal we asked the most unhelpful man ever to sit at an information desk for departure times. He told us our only two options were to wait 10 hours for a direct bus to Kodaikanal or to wait three hours, get a bus to Madurai and hope to catch a connecting bus. Not satisfied with that answer or with the man’s attitude, we began asking all the other bus drivers and food vendors in the station and learned that a bus to Madurai was actually leaving any minute

As is often the case, any minute really meant in about two hours. So, after killing time eating a bus station breakfast (fried food, soda and chips) we finally got on the road for our worst bus ride to date. Cramped, bumpy, hot and loud are words that come to mind to describe it.

We spent much of the ride squeezing locals into our row of seats that was barely big enough for the two of us including a few hours with what we guessed was a 6 foot 3, 240lbs man. The bus helper was also sitting right next to us and his job was to blow a loud whistle every time we had to stop to let someone on and off (which happened at least every few minutes as we were on a local bus). Suffice it to say, it was among the longest six hours ever during which I spent lots of time just wishing I was back home.

Our bus from Kodaikanal to Puducherry was billed as an overnight semi-sleeper, which meant that the seats reclined more than usual but it did not have the sleeper compartments above. As Carrie and I both have long legs, we chose to take the two front seats to avoid another seat reclining into our laps. What we could not have known was that our safe seats would be right next to a door that would open and close at least once an hour or that the one actually needed the seat in front to stop your body from sliding off the chair.

For nearly ten hours we tried to sleep: slipping, sliding, being awakened by everyone who had to ask the driver for a pee break. Everyone once in a while the zzz’s came, but there was no doubt that we would be woken up again shortly. In fact, for a large part of the evening I so slumped down in an effort to not slide further that my back was almost on the actual seat. When we finally arrived at 5:30am we were so happy to be off the bus that the fact that we still had to find a hotel for the night didn’t even phase us.