Sorya Mall

Sorya Mall and I go way back.

When I first came to Cambodia nearly 8 years ago (I can't believe it's been that long!) I realized I had left something or  other behind and needed to buy a new one (I no longer remember what it was).

I remember the Language Corps' driver, Dara, took me and my co-student Zack to Sorya Mall.

Sorya Mall in those days--as it was throughout my 4 years living in Cambodia--wasn't like a mall in the US.  It had tables set up against the wall and stands...more like a marketplace that happened to be inside an air-conditioned building.  On the top floor, there was a skating rink where you could look down on the city.

When I came here last year, it had mostly been shrouded and shut down.

When I walked in today to escape the midday heat, it had been restored.  And shit.  It actually looked like a Western shopping mall.

This is where I bought all my entertainment needs as an expat

It's now lined with actual glass-fronted shops and counters and stuff.  Nice.

Even better, they've built a mini-Angkor section, with traditional and colonial style buildings and even a small scale Independence Monument.  It's...just like Ibn Batuta Mall in Dubai.  I was very impressed.

Isn't this cute?

Isn't the French colonial-style architecture just charming?

I mean, come ON.  They put a monument inside a shopping mall!

I guess this has been done to keep pace with the Japanese-style AEON Mall near my guesthouse.  Keeping up with the Joneses and all.  Why can't we have some sort of Liberty Mall in America with traditional monuments and historical things, too?  Oh wait, because America's falling into ruin instead of climbing out of it.  My bad.

Silly, but I bought this.  Snow Yogurt is one of my favorite ice cream places in the city, and as near as I can tell, is Cambodian in origin.  It disappeared from my neighbourhood; I'm happy to see it re-sprouted in Sorya Mall.  That's some good yogurt.

A Most Auspicious Start to the New Year

Typically New Year's Day is a time of new beginnings and fresh resolve.  It's not typically associated with chaos, turmoil, festering old wounds, confusion, and hassle.  For most people.  But alas, I'm not most people.

Hear me:

Not yet a week has passed of 2018, and already three things have happened to me:

- I lost my Biometric Residence Permit (BRP) card that would allow me back in the UK, essentially stranding me in Cambodia until I get it replaced
- I'm back in the UK court system since my step-mother refuses to pay her portion of fees to her solicitor forcing him to freeze my assets
- I (unintentionally) wound up receiving a very creepy massage from a lesbian masseuse in Siem Reap

Just more memories for the scrapbook.

Undoubtedly, you'll want to know what I was doing in Siem Reap on New Year's, why I have a BRP card for the UK, and why I am having legal trouble to this degree.

To be honest, I ask myself why I am having legal trouble to this degree.  It was nothing I did.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.  As I have vowed for the last 3 New Years, I will be updating this blog.  You shall soon know all.

Also resolutions.  Slash, wishful thinking:
- Continue the ways of inner-work and self-exploration
- Master the Jade Egg (don't laugh)
- Turn the tide on my ongoing financial problems
- Get a higher degree
- Clean house (trust me, it's that much of a project)
- Destroy my enemies

I think that will suffice.  After all, it's not like any of these things are actually going to happen.  I'll thus save my writing energy for the myriad papers due in a couple of weeks.

How NOT to Treat Someone Who is Depressed

Because I find it sickening how some people treated me during this time in my life, in this entry I will lambaste them.  Alas, the people who read this are likely not the ones who most need to hear it, and those who need to hear it will never stumble across this page.

Still, I will have my say.

Here's what not to do to a clinically depressed person:

- Don't ignore the person, imagining that "it's nothing" and that they're "being dramatic".  Actually, people need support during this time.  And unless you've experienced the pain that comes with it, you have no real reason to belittle someone for trying to express it through words, ranting, rage, confusion, withdrawnness, a bad attitude, or just locking oneself into the toilet and sobbing for 5 hours running.


- Remember, they are experiencing a backlog of unprocessable pain, sometimes that has been building up for years.  Sometimes extreme fiery outbursts, sobbing for hours, or rolling into an immobile ball for 3 days is simply the only way to discharge it.  No, they're not deliberately seeking attention or trying to make life difficult for you, not anymore than someone who throws up all over your floor because unprocessable bacteria have been building up in their gut for days and this is the only way to discharge it.


- Don't tell them they'll feel better tomorrow.  Especially if they express suicidal intentions.  They will NOT feel better tomorrow, they will NOT "get over it" any time soon, and such cavalier treatment is the quick way to permanently end a relationship, if not a life.


- Don't criticize their physical appearance.  You know, it's hard enough getting out of bed to do your bidding for the next 12 hours (especially when you're the person who set the damn episode off to begin with).  Let alone constantly being on top of the reflection in the mirror I now despise...because you think I need more makeup.


- Likewise, don't rag on Depressed Person about hygiene.  Sometimes it's hard to wash your hair every day when a cosmic battle between hope and annihilation is being waged daily, with your soul hanging in the balance.  If you think I smell bad, I think you're rude as fuck and lacking in character and fortitude.


- Don't refer to how you were "depressed in high school".  Wasn't everyone just.  I sure was.  I hated my classmates, had no friends, was a gamer, etc etc.  And no, it's not the same thing as having a depressive episode.  It's NOT.  NOT NOT NOT NOT NOT!!!  

When you're "depressed in high school", you're unhappy with the status quo, but usually this is a mood.  A place you sometimes inhabit because, after all, high school is an incredibly depressing place to be.

When you're clinically depressed, you can't escape the mental and emotional agony.  At any time.  Any attempt at positive thinking, imagining a better future, etc, is ripped out of your head by the swirling vortex of despair your brain has come.  Any attempt to "get out and do something" is robbed from you by your mind and body's joint effort to bleed out any vitality you might once have had.  It seeps into your dreams, poisons the image you see in the mirror, takes hold of your psyche and crushes it, laughing as the blood seeps onto the floor.

I sure never went through shit like that in high school, and I'm willing to bet that, because of your attitude, neither did you.  It's a toxic black hole that you, the All-Knowing Advice-Giver, will hopefully be subject to one day yourself so that you may be forced to eat the abuses you so unthinkingly bestowed upon others.


- Don't lecture me about Moral Uplift, Positive Thinking, How to Solve my Problems, or anything else about me you think you know.  Just don't.  Unless you want me to lecture you about Degradation, Negative Thinking, And How to Ruin your Life Like Me.  You don't want to hear that right?  That's an unpleasant imposition, right?  Exactly.  You LET THE PERSON EXPERIENCE HOW THEY ARE, without insulting them by demanding change when they're in the throes of emotional agony.


- If you're on an anonymous, psychologically-oriented forum, don't be surprised if people open up about this stuff.  Don't act like you're being burdened by listening to it when you solicit further information, and for fuck sake, don't tell the depressed person to get over themselves.  THIS MIGHT BE THEIR ONLY WAY OF DISCHARGING A BACKLOG OF UNPROCESSABLE GRIEF.  If you can't handle it, a) stop asking questions, and b) get off the goddamn psychology forum.  You don't belong there.  Go build yourself a pillow fort of the same self-pity you keep accusing me of.


- Don't tell me about starving kids in Africa, Syrian refugees, people with cancer, or whatever.  I know they're keeping a positive attitude and are morally superior to me.  I know I'm weak for breaking under the sheer agony of existence.  I know I'm an ungrateful little shit too self-absorbed by her own problems to acknowledge that literally everyone in the world has it far worse than I do.  I KNOW!  And your reminding me of it is just one more confirmation of why I should indeed loathe myself and complete the suicide I am ideating every waking hour.


- Stop acting so fucking superior.  God told you you are your brother's motherfucking keeper, and all you can do is cause more pain.  So much for all your moral platitudes, asshole.  If you think I'm dragging you down, then I can say with equal certainty, you're beating someone into the earth who was already down.  FAIL.  Newsflash, You are inferior.


- You don't know everything about life, and plenty of the things you think are helpful seriously aren't.  YOU are making the world a worse place when you come in, reeking of incompetence and inexperience, and pretend that you have all the answers.  If you know you're out of your league, just SERIOUSLY send love and back the fuck off.


Depression shows you what human nature is really all about, just like children prostituting themselves to you in South East Asia and merchants ripping your white ass off at every turn.  I know a lot of things about people by now.  Why don't you, O Great Ones Who Know The Answer to All My Problems?  Can it be because you're living your comfortable life in a developed nation with food and social security all around you?  Can it be because you never chanced it, you never ventured forth into the world, and you never risked leaving it all behind?  And I did those things, and now I have harsh lessons that you'll never learn, and yet you're STILL going to judge me from your comfy little sofa without so much as walking one one-HUNDredth of a mile in my shoes?  Can that be it?  I think so.  You are ignorant, so I will teach you:  The number one rule is, Treat people with respect.  And it seems like many people don't know thing one about that, even those with a decent enough upbringing that they really should.


One thing I will say for a depressive episode is, it sure makes it clear who your real friends are, who you can count on, who's worth befriending, and who actually loves you: NO ONE.  Especially not the utter human refuse who made this entry possible.

This Working Out Thing Isn't Working Out

After nearly a decade of sitting around on my ass due to unemployment, illness, depression, and boredom, I've come to realize this is a problem.  Watching my father die due to his shitty upkeep habits, and seeing my own life fall apart over the course of this blog (and several prior blogs), and knowing how it feels to be chronically ill and miserable, I've come to the conclusion that none of this must ever happen again.

Therefore, I've started a cardio-conditioning program at a local gym.  I chose it because they teach martial arts, which I also want to start.  A month's membership costs almost 100 dollars, but you can join any of the classes at any time and use any of the equipment at any time.  I figure the price alone will motivate me to do more.

After two weeks (which is 10 hour-long sessions), I'm already seeing improvement.  Not much.  But when the first day you come in half an hour late, then overheat and start throwing up, it's hard NOT to see improvement when you simply survive the entire session.

I've also stopped throwing out my stomach muscles (yes, this can apparently happen).

It's really not easy, though.  First of all, there is no air-con.  So, it's already 85+ degrees in there.  I've literally never sweated so hard in my entire life; it runs down my face and chest and back and drips onto the floor.  Some guy has to come around with a mop to clean up after all us pigs sweating our life out shamelessly onto the mats.  (I am NOT making this up).  I come out dripping wet and basically stand in the shower with my clothes on since they're as dirty as I am.

If it helps me recover the health I once had, and better yet helps me shed the dumpy middle-aged body I've somehow acquired since starting this blog, I'm happy to do it though.

Kep

Kep is written "Gaeb" in the Khmer language.  Pronounced similarly to the nonsense syllable "gaip".  So when the French came, they wrote it "Kep".  Because that makes sense, right?  It's pronounced Gaip; let's call it Kep.

Kep from the air hillside.

I went there this weekend.  Really only for a day--I got in late in the evening and left early the morning after next.  I'd heard there was a butterfly farm, but I never got there.

Instead, I woke up several hours early (because I slept in a hammock.  Why did I sleep in a hammock, you ask.  Because it was cheap) and drove around trying to find the National Park...I started feeling low and went back and slept for 3 more hours, so my day was already half gone.

The hammock in question

I then went to the National Park.

Word of warning to anyone going to Kep National Park--it's retarded.  First of all, there are basically no signs, nothing that says, Welcome to Kep National Park!  There's a highway road sign that tells you where to turn, but then you're not directed any further.... I wound up getting lost and instead stumbled across this pagoda on a hill...which was cool, but it did cost me another quarter of my day.

The pagoda on the hill

I told you it was cool

THEN.  I drove back into town (I brought my own Trusty White Bike) and just asked directions.

Also a dead snake

Apparently, you have to turn onto a road called the BOPHA... Road, and it wraps around in a circle through the national park.  There are two entrances.  There are apparently jungle trails, but they're so poorly maintained and dangerous that I simply turned back rather than struggle along in my flip-flops and beach pants.  There are overlooks where you can take pictures, and a lot of wildlife (my favorite was watching two dung beetles pushing a millipede carcass, also kicking a giant millipede out of my way [gently, I'm not a douchebag] and watching it freak out).

They're supposed to charge you at the gate, but because it was election day, no one was there (except the millipedes).  This was at 3:30 pm, when I finally got in.  The park closes at 5:30.

Well, the nice thing about wasting your day driving around like an idiot and showing up an hour before closing is that you get to see the sunset.

You also get to walk home on forest trails in the pitch blackness, stumble over rocks, cut your feet up, and lay smarting in your ultra-cheap hammock.  But with a town whose name is pronounced "Gaip" and written "Kep" what can you really expect? XD

Khmer Lessons, Part II

I've nearly finished the 5-book sequence by now.  (I am appalled that the books went up from 7 dollars apiece to 20 in the space of two short years, but then, the classes nearly doubled as well...).  I am hoping to finish the series by the time I take off.  At 20 dollars apiece, I better.

I've also finished the first writing book.  Amazing to think I learned dozens of letters in several months and now I can actually read them!

Again, I have to reiterate that it's an impossible fucking script.  There are 70+ letters, many more diacritic marks, old fashioned letters that look like more familiar letters but aren't pronounced that way, and I come across a new, inexplicable diacritic mark every single passage I read.  Add to that the fact that Khmer is about as phonetic as English, with all sorts of traps and tricks and silent -e's & other letters and non-sensical spellings...well, you've got a recipe for suffering.

So every day for 1-2 hours, my reading teacher and I struggle through yet another painful passage intended for Khmer 2nd graders.  I am hoping I can improve significantly over the next 6 weeks, that is for sure.  Cause this is something more akin to torture.

Heat

The heat in this country is something.  I used to tell myself it was my thyroid, but I'm starting to think it's just oppressive heat that causes you to sweat at the slightest movement.  You step outside of an air-conditioned room, and it's like you're in a sauna.  (I don't typically notice this, because I just live without aircon).

It's also possible that thyroid problems have just permanently ruined my body.  I remember I used to be pretty heat-resistant a decade ago.  Sigh.

It's so bad that I had to cancel my class at RUPP because it's too tortuous to ride my bike there and back every day.  It's so bad that I spend most of my days lying around prostrate inside, discoloring my bathrobe with my sweat.  It's so bad that it's over 100 degrees by 11 am.

I am told it never used to be this bad.  I am also told thunderstorms used to be rare, yet we're getting them nearly every day.  There's an official record for the number of people struck by lightening every year.  They report it in Cambodia Daily.

Hey guys, let's stop putting extra carbon in the air.

Review of Laos

In all, I am really glad I visited Laos.  It's like everything that's right about Cambodia with none of the onerous ridiculousness.  The roads are paved, NGOs haven't ruined the capital city, no Western do-gooders keep blaming genocide that happened 40 years ago for every current problem, etc.  (Sorry Cambodia.  But these are areas to be improved.)

A word of advice is not to go during New Years.  Travel is more difficult, more expensive, and you're likely to get wet if you try to walk (by all means go if you like water fights).  Everyone's drunk and they drive drunk.  They give you free beer, which most people would like, but a) I hate beer and b)when you're an inexperienced motorist trying to drive an inordinate number of kilometers before dark...  And a lot of things are just shut down.  Plenty of people report being invited out with locals, but things like this hardly ever happen to me.  Hence my verdict.

My favorite part was The Loop, and I would never ever ever want to do it again.  It would diminish its value.  I would, however, go back to Vang Vieng.  Hmm...

I'm also glad I visited the White Temple in Thailand.  That's worth seeing.

This is a useless entry, but it's mainly here for my own future reference.

The Horror that was Japan

I'm going to be putting up several entries shortly.  I wrote them when I was in Japan but couldn't bring myself to publish them.  Reading them over, I am struck by the frank despair and emotional turmoil they exude.

I know I'm apparently expected to be "positive" on these blog thingies, but I'm seriously not even going to TRY to mask over the shit I endured there.  Understand, I was in the middle of a 15-month depressive episode that could easily have killed me (I used to go into the kitchen at night and try to drive knives into my wrists, too damn bad they were too dull because otherwise you might believe me).

I remember these days as living under a grey mist of bleak despair.  If you have ever flown through a storm, this is how it felt--grey, melancholy, uncertain.  I literally did not experience one good thing during this time--and with that assertion, I expect the same outcry I got when I tried to explain my feelings on psych forums..."just look for the positive!"; "I don't want to hear all this negativity, plenty of good things are happening in your life"; "And I was depressed in high school, get over it".

So don't even try that.  DON'T.  EVEN.  TRY.  I've heard it all, and if you're seriously going to try, all I can say is you're a hell of a privileged little shit to even be able to THINK those kinds of thoughts.  I've endured more than you ever will, and you hold no moral superiority over me, so take your positive thinking and shove it up your ass next to your head and kindly pass enough methane gas to suffocate yourself.

Because I strongly believe in presenting the truth of my experience, I will publish these entires, backdated, no matter how pathetic...and you can read about them here.

In rough chronological order...

- Part I: A Long, Angry Preamble

- Part II: Arriving in Japan 

- Part III: Depression  

- Part IV: LOL Dork 

- Part V: The Psychopath 

- Part VI: The Toll TEFL Takes

Khmer: A Learning Adventure

For 2 years, I studied Khmer with a private tutor.  For fun.

You know, it was a chaotic world that I had to fight every single day.  I was sick and struggling and had little control of my life, and the world seemed very hard and brutal.  Khmer lessons were my one little place where I could just talk nonsense, make mistakes and not suffer for it, talk to friendly people, just relax and be happy.  It was my one lifeline to humanity, in short.

I never progressed much, because we rushed through 4 or 5 books in a year....though they never printed more 5th level books for the remainder of my time there.  So I just spoke about my life and ideas using simple language and never really got anywhere.

Just one hour, every day.

Just like a fool, I never learned to read.  I just didn't want to--my faith in reading and writing has diminished ever since I studied languages in high school and college.  Experience shows that it tends to result in people relying on written notes and not being able to speak the damn language.

But now I'm learning to read and write.  I'm glad I am.  It's just like being a kid again--I realize that all these words are spelled differently than I expected.

Like as a 3 year old learning to spell (yes, I begged my mom to teach me to read and write when I was 3), I was pretty sure it was written,

hte bran fox jumpt in hte wodr

When I went was in the first grade, I learned to my amazement that it's

The brown fox jumped in the water.

Same with Khmer.  It's...not spelled like I thought it would be.  There are double letters on the end of words.  Silent -e's that change the internal vowel sound and other letters on the end.  Like English.  Things literally transliterated as -ette, with the -te being unpronounced. Like English.  Silent m's.  The rules are sometimes bent, and if you don't know the word, you might not be able to guess it.  It's one of the few languages where kids have spelling tests throughout school...just like English.

Worse, there are old letters people still sometimes use.  Like how English has ae and oe merged as dipthongs...you sometimes find them in older publications...you know the ones: 

These old-fashioned letters, in addition to the approximately 60 "core" letters...in addition to diacritic marks....in addition to variations on the core letters that are written beneath other letters to form a consonant cluster...

This isn't even all of them...I promise

Well take the word "khnyom", which means the personal pronoun "I" in some contexts.

It's written,

That's literally like writing,

FUCK.

Most words are like this.  I am really glad I did not attempt this before.  Prospective learners should make a mental note not to try this at home.

Bus Trip to Phnom Penh: The Crossing

I wish I could say the 11-hour bus trip back to Phnom Penh from 4000 Islands was speedy and uneventful.  Alas.

First of all, we had to meet on the pier before 8 am to take the ferry back to the mainland.  They then had us wait in the bus station for 2 hours, since the buses didn't leave until 10.  I mean, it's always good to plan ahead and leave a pocket of time, but wtf, 2 hours??

So, finally on the bus, we sat there for another hour while they checked our tickets ad nauseum.

Our bus driver got on and was just like, Sorry, I've never driven this route before.  I have no idea what they're doing.  I guess this is a Lao thing, where they just check your tickets a lot.

Does not inspire confidence.

Eventually we got on our way...and drove to the border.  Crossing it was another matter.  I've had some shitty border crossings in my day, but this was definitely up there.

First, they make you buy a quarantine sheet for a dollar.  Like seriously, it's just some useless public health statement that you pay a dollar for.  It's not present at any other border, just on the Lao-Cambodia border.  They were pretty insistent that I take one though.

Then I got inside to the line, and two guys are checking 100 of us into the country.  One guy got into an altercation with one of the border guards, I have no idea about what...there were no instructions, so I wound up standing in the wrong line for about 15 minutes before shouting at people.

Finally, I got inside the country (they were very weird about my passport because of all the visas inside it; I was slightly worried I'd be refused entry).

Well, I bought some fried rice, just as the bus was pulling away (I mean I got on it, but I didn't have time to eat).

We hadn't been driving more than an hour when I was slammed forward by the bus jamming on its brakes...we then swerved sharply to the left...I thought we were going over the guardrail.  I looked out my window, and all these cows were tumbling across the road, picking themselves up, and bolting.  I looked behind, and a cow lay in the road.  The stupid animals, for reasons unknown, decided to run as a herd in front of the bus.

Anyway, I didn't die, but a cow did.  The front bumper of the bus was semi-dissembled.  Between all these mishaps, I made it home around 11pm that evening and simply walked to my house and collapsed on the bed.

And that was my trip to Laos.  I get the sense that Cambodia doesn't want me back...

Anyway, that was a unique bus trip.  They're not typically that weird.  Be careful on the road, guys.

Four Thousand Islands

Making back from The Loop did not bestow upon me the hero's welcome I had hoped for (I mean just kidding, people think I'm very pompous when I use language like that.  It's a rhetorical device meaning it wasn't a real soft or glorious return).

As I pulled into town, New Year's celebrations were going full swing, meaning crazed teenagers were throwing water on every passerby and shooting people with water guns from the back of trucks.  It was like civil chaos!  If civil chaos were a giant squirt-gun fight.

Not a shop was open.  Including at the guest house (The Travel Lodge, once again utterly failing me).  So that meal that I had been postponing so I could make it back in time for the bus?  Didn't happen.  I was hungry, exhausted, cranky, with a kink in my left shoulder from holding the handlebar so long.

Luckily, I had a plan for this.  It was called, Get the Hell Away!  The last stop on my trip was 4000 Islands.  The only bus to 4000 Islands left at 6pm, so I took a tuk tuk there with a couple of German tourists (my mood was somewhat lifted by the profusion of snacks in the bus station).

It was a 12-hour bus ride.  Luckily, I found a hole (yes, on the bus) and slept in it for 9 of those hours after eating a profusion of fetal eggs.

And then we were at 4000 Islands, last stop before Cambodia.

You have to take a ferry to get there.  

The Ferry to Four Thousand Islands

Four Thousand Islands is like some sort of archpelago in the middle of the Mekong--but there are probably more like 10 000 islands, some of which sustain a single bush, others of which stretch for miles.  We were obviously on one of the bigger islands.

See that lil bush island?  Yep.

It's like Stonerville, I could just tell by walking though.  Luckily, it's also rural Laos, so I rented this strictly low-quality bungalow (I mean run down and very basic) for 5 dollars.  And then just relaxed.  Just sat on the hammock by the river and chilled.  So glad my vacation was nearing its end.

See how rural that is?

I was hoping to see the dolphins that live nearby, or take a sunset cruise...alas, it was day after New Years, and everyone was too lazy/sleepy/drunk/whatever to actually cater to tourists.  I tried to explore, but if you go across the island, you basically have to pay to access the other half, what the hell.

To compensate for boredom, I took pictures of the only two fully sober individuals I found on any of the many thousands of islands:

So yep.  A day of rest and not much more. 

Tha Khek: The Loop

The ancient map I used to find treasure/El Dorado/the Fountain of Youth/The Loop

Every so often something comes along that's just so unique, so epic, so beautiful--so AWESOME--that I have to try it.  This time, it was a phenomenon known as The Loop--a 450 kilometer ring road located in central Laos.  The embarkation point is typically Tha Khek, where you can rent a motorbike for $6 a day.

Having recently learned how to operate one, I was now able to complete this small dream.

The Motorbike

I woke up miserable after 3 hours' sleep on a bench since my guesthouse locked me out (this coming on top of pushing hard for over a week, and no breakfast), but, I was standing in front of the motorbike rental shop at opening.  Zombie-like, I rented a motorbike for 3 days and headed out on my quest.  It eventually perked me up.

Navigator

And that's all you do.  You get on the motorbike and drive in a large circle down a surprisingly well-paved motorway.  And you just...look at stuff.  There are innumerable caves you can visit along the way, a cold spring, lakes, carvings, a waterfall, and all kinds of wildlife.  The roads are in the middle of nowhere, you hardly meet any other drivers...and God the scenery.

The landscape is beautiful--karsts and weird-shaped mountains abound, you drive through cool mountain forests and emerald plains, and there are times when you just pull of the road and sing praises to God.  It is that beautiful--the kind of beauty that knocks the cynicism off your soul and washes away years of acquired corruption.  These photos are but an insulting misrepresentation of it.

Caves:

Outside...

One of the earlier caves I saw.  It was only this, as near as I could figure out.

Entrance to Tham Nang Cave

Thong Lor Cave...weirdly, it stretches for miles along a through-river.  This was the side where we emerged.

...and in

The trippy interior of Tham Nang cave

For some reason, when we got past the glowing stalactites, we came upon an internal lake...with boats.

Inside Thong Lor Cave

Thong Lor Cave

Thong Lor

Thong Lor

Thong Lor

Exiting Thong Lor on the other side

Some other part of Thong Lor

And check out these cave sparkles from Tham Nang cave:

The scenery:

Notice the stereotypical herons flying near the karst

Many worlds

Imagine living with these in your back yard

Uplifting guesthouse

Lovely dead tree zone

I don't know why there was a fairy tale castle in rural Laos.  It was behind the gas station.

Scenery from a boat

Actually this is the guesthouse I stayed at.  Or a resort, rather, because it was where my motorbike ran out of gas.

I mean, the lighting. God.

Thumbs up, lil rock.

The culture:

This was a Buddhist shrine in a cave, where there was also a New Year's celebration

You know what they say, if you meet the Buddha by the side of the road...

Can you believe there's just a highway in the middle of this stuff though?

Entry gate to a temple.  My favorite pic of all these.

And yes, this cold spring was COLD.

Lovely typical Laotian meal lol

Even the butterflies were celebrating

You meet people along the way--if you stop for a meal, if you cross paths with fellow travellers, or if you're like me, you go during New Years and kids for a road block and proceed to dump water on you (trust me, this feels good; just be careful of your phone).  And then they give you cold beer.

I ate at this family's restaurant.

This guy gave me free beer after pouring cold water on me.

These kids threw water on me

You can stop and look at everything (I couldn't keep up with the other travellers on my course because I kept getting off to take pictures of things) and you could stretch the journey much longer than the requisite 3 days typically recommended.

I wish I could put it into better words than this, but it's the sort of thing that has to be felt and experienced to really be understood.  If you do it, you will never regret it.