Lovin' Luang Prabang and THE Gibbon Experience - The Last of Laos

22.-27.07.15

Luang Prabang – Love At First Sight

Together with a very red haired Brit and a more mature, very well traveled man from Kuwait who gave us some great travel tips that I don’t remember because I was too distracted by his lose dentures that kept popping in and out, we boarded a medium sized bus. By the time we had gotten there, the bus had been pretty full, but somehow our guesthouse owner procured the back row for us, so we wouldn’t have to sit in the jump seats in the aisle for 8h. Thank you!! But it was promising to be a long ride either way – not enough space to put my backpack on the floor, I had it on my lap and my feet rested on a giant bag of fish feed.

The road was yet another winding serpentine leading up, down and around mountain ranges. At the highest point, we were towering above them and had a spectacular panorama view on both sides of the bus. The air was cool and fresh and very in our face – the girl in front of me had opened the window quite widely, probably to avoid getting too sick, and Mo and I had to layer up and wear our rain jackets back to front to create some kind of shield against the constant wind. But better too much air than too little. Especially because the road definitely pushing the limits what tolerance to motion sickness was concerned. This was definitely an appropriate first time to pop a travel pill.

We stopped often and overfilled the bus, two people squeezing onto one jump seat and one even standing by the door. Every stop had the majority of the bus rush out and wretch at the side of the road. A funny site, so many people unitedly heaving on the side of the road. But I was impressed by how they could hold it back for so long while on the bus. You hardly noticed when someone got sick on the bus – you’d just see a little plastic bag fly discreetly out the window.

The ride was long and we were happy to arrive. Bus stations are always so conveniently far outside of town. Too far to want to walk with luggage. We haggled with yet another Tuk Tuk driver to get a decent price and finally got to Phatomphone guesthosue by the Nam Khan river in the Old Town. A little balcony overlooked the river, the ceilings were high and the ceiling fan strong.

Luang Prabang was named a UNESCO World Heritage site and is said to be the region in which the majority of the population are native Lao. The Old Town is situated on a little stretch of land 300m by 1km, nestled in between the Mekong in the North and the Nam Khan in the South. The banks are green and the streets easy to navigate. We stretched our legs with a little walk to get our bearings and ended this travel day with a good dinner and a good nights sleep.

Temples and Tourists

Exploration day. After a pricey breakfast – a given along the main road – we criss-crossed around the main streets with their historic architecture and many many temples. Though no traditional shops are left and every single store caters to tourists now – restaurants, bars, souvenir stores and a myriad of travel and tour agencies, the historic part of town has kept its charm and relaxed atmosphere. We visited the store of the Ock Pop Tok weaving that use traditional weaving skills and natural dyes to create beautiful fabrics made into modern clothes, bags, scarves and home deco. We walked by many fancy restaurants and luxurious guesthouses along the main roads and peered into hidden alleys that housed noodle shops, a storytelling theatre and Brother Mouse, a literacy and book NGO for children.

We walked around a few smaller temples and a photo exhibit on mediation with beautiful black and white pictures of monks, before getting to Wat Xieng Thong – Supposedly the most historic and enchanting Buddhist monastery in the entire country. The complex was relatively small, compared to the temples in Cambodia, but very well restored. Its main temple was built in 1560 and had lovely mosaics on the façade and on the inside. Everything was very very golden, though some lotus statues or larger mosaics were made with colorful shiny tiles – disco lotus!

Disco Elephant!

Disco Lotus!

We exited the complex by the river and walked the quiet street for a while before turning back into the hubbub of town center. Everything was so compact and close, we could have walked the historic town in its entirety multiple times that day. Instead, we decided to ignore the drizzle that was starting to come down and climb Mt.Phousi – more of a hill than a mountain, but said to be the spiritual center of Luang Prabang – it’s golden stupa on the tip is visible when driving into the city. Before braving the steps, we peeked into Wat Pa Houak – a small temple with a weathered old façade, not very inviting from the outside. But inside, there is a 19th century mural depicting Luang Prabang as a celestial city which is very nice to spend a few minutes in front of.

The many steps lead us to the golden stupa and a little temple on the top, with beautiful view of the Mekong on one side and the Nam Khan on the other. The arched roofs of the historic town were also a pretty sight to behold. It didn’t feel very spiritual though, a few local girls were sitting on a rock playing loud music from a cell phone, a guy sat smoking at the entrance of the temple and peering inside there was a lady taking a nap. 

Deeply meditating on the functions of his smart phone.

I'd look a bit erked too if I had a gecko sitting on my forehead.

We walked back down a different way and encountered a nest of many golden Buddha statues – sitting, standing, lying and surrounded by golden statues of worshippers. Nagas (giant mythical snakes) lined some stairs leading to a cave containing Buddha’s footstep. And at some point we exited via Wat Pa Phoutthabat, a temple containing a school – deserted and kind of eerie. Following a small path we ended up crawling out an invisible alley and suddenly being back in the middle of the main road. 

After some R&R back in the guesthouse, we headed out again for the night market. Around 5/6pm the vendors start setting up stalls along the main road starting at the Royal Palace and leading all the way to a large crossing. Once you dive in, there is no way out but straight ahead. It is colorful and fun, but after 20m you notice that everyone is selling the same things – floppy pants that one can buy in any Southeast Asian country and some traditional Lao weaving made into pillow cases, baby shoes and bags. Some stalls have art, some Lao Lao whiskey, some items crafted from bomb scraps found in fields. But it gets quite repetitive after a while. And Mo couldn’t even walk upright because the frames of the tents were too low.

On the other side it gets more interesting – food! In a little dingy alley, food vendors sell fried mushrooms, dried pork, barbecue and a dizzying array of local food. We had heard about the buffets, so we decided to try them out. You get one bowl for 15.000Kip (just under 2USD) and can fill it with as much food as you like – different noodles, rice, deep fried veggies, steamed veggies, stir fried veggies, fried eggs, spring rolls etc. And if you want meat, you buy a stick of barbecue to go with it. A fun concept up until the point where you eat the cold, greasy mound of mess in front of you. Some things were quite good, but most were just kinda blah. 

Back in fresh air and out of the alley, we had cute little coconut rice pancakes, served in a little banana leaf bowl – these little buggers were so good, it became our ritual desert every single evening in Luang Prabang.

The night ended with a walk through the town’s night life and me going to bed, while Mo met up with the group of people we had parted ways with in Vang Vien and experienced a night out that traditionally ends in bowling here in Luang Prabang. At 11:30, all bars close due to the curfew. There is one single after hours place – a bowling alley (owned by the mayor’s son).

Full House

The next day we moved. Not because we didn’t like our place, but because our friends were staying in a cheaper place that sounded better. And so our group of six ended up under one roof, which made for fun sitting around talking about this that and nothing. The whole moving and regrouping procedure took all morning and so the planned trip to the must-see waterfall was postponed due to errrrr “racist issues” (as we jokingly called the fact that we didn’t want to go after noon, when we knew there would be busloads of Chinese tour groups there).

Instead, we lazed, got some stuff done that needed doing and developed a plan for the final days of our visa in Laos. We wanted to extend it for a few days to be able to travel a bit more relaxed – apparently it is really easy and only costs 2$ a day. Turned out though, that I, who have an ASEAN passport and therefore no visa, cannot extend that non-existent visa. Oh well.

That night, we had a great Laos barbeque meal on a table grill – basically a large stone container filled with glowing hot coals with a rounded metal grill on top. Soup, noodles, egg and veggies go into the moat around the grill, while the top is lovingly stroked with a chunk of pork fat before throwing a mix of meats on it – chicken, pork and water buffalo. The soup gets tastier the longer it sits and the meat grills to perfection in a very short time. The barbecue sauce was delicious and we finished every morsel of the meal with gusto. It was a hot ordeal, but so worth the sweating.

The evening ended with a hang-out session on the terrace of our guesthouse with good music and a good mix of silly banter and interesting conversation filled to the brim with puns that our group seemed to have excelled in.

Kung Si, Kung Sa

The next morning we had breakfast at the sandwich stand we had discovered one afternoon – this too had become a ritual. A whole long row offered sandwiches and fruit shakes and we went to the same lady every morning. A big baguette with mayo, salads, chicken and bacon (for me, add avocado for Mo) and a shake (passion fruit, pineapple coconut, lemon yogurt honey were some of my favorites). After the first morning, we started buying a whole peeled and cut pineapple from a lady by our street corner to complete the meal.

We had given ourselves an ETD for the waterfalls and managed to somewhat stick to it – if it weren’t for the hour of haggling we had to go through to finally find a Tuk Tuk driver that would take us for the price we knew was right.

The Kung Si Waterfalls are about 30km away and it took us a good hour to get there. We walked the last bit, because our Tuk Tuk “broke down”. It was a weekend and the place was swarming with people. We walked through the forest, passed the bear sanctuary – they save bears from captivity and bear bile traders – and along the multilevel falls. They were beautiful! The pools were light turquoise – aparently caused by the limestone sediment – and very inviting. The highest fall was quite a sight. We started climbing to get to the top, but the French girl Aline that had joined our group and I decided halfway to head back down and swim instead. Mo and Ivan headed up and Steve and Vianney took an unknown adventurous path.

Aline and I found an empty pool and carefully made our way into the cool water. After a while, the fish started getting very interested in our legs and nipped here and there – free fish spa! Though they weren’t large and it didn’t hurt, it was a bit unnerving.

I jumped in and regretted it a split second later. A split second too late though and my one and only pair of sunglasses were gone – the pool way too deep to even touch the bottom. Bye bye beloved 8$ polarized lenses!

Our Tuk Tuk driver had said to be back out at 3pm, which was just about the time t started raining. However, we should have known better than to let him have us walk there because his vehicle “broke down” and promising to have his friend come get us – after already having paid over half of the fare. Con artists! Of course, him or his friend were nowhere to be found and we ended up having to pay another Tuk Tuk to take us home.

Tiger Trail Trekking (W/o Tigers) or Mud, Muddy, Muddiest

Bright and early, after breakfast at our favorite sandwich stand, we walked to the Tiger Trail bike shop to meet out guide. Lucky us got a private tour – thank rainy season! After a short drive, we stopped at the Tiger Trail Camp, fixed Mo’s shoes, which were close to sole-less and then crossed the river in a long flat boat. Some elephants and their riders passed us – many of Luang Prabang’s elephant camps are in that area.

Before.

The first few steps were quite muddy, but we had been warned by the lady in the tour shop that rainy season dampened the rail and we should be prepared to get a bit dirty. The next few steps went through a stream and so – after about 10mins – we had soaking wet shoes. And the stops following that – more mud. It took some used to the slipping and sliding and trying to keep an eye out for where exactly the guide stepped. This wasn’t always easy, since he was – despite being a head shorter than ME – very nimble on his feet. 

Phase 1

After the initial care disappeared and enough mud had seeped into our shoes, it became a bit easier. We were going to get dirtier than expected anyways. Though I have to admit that we did ask ourselves – aloud – a few times in that first half an hour, what the hell we had gotten ourselves into. Especially after asking the guide if the path was going to be in that condition the entire trek and he just said “yes”.

We were flanked by rice paddies, sometimes on one, sometimes on both sides. Other farmlands followed and then, slowly but surely, the landscape changed to less developed nature. We reached the first village after an hour, a Khmu village with 20something families and a population of around 300. Though remote, they did have a road leading straight to town from there and the people definitely knew all about the foreign tourists trekking through their narrow streets and wooden houses. We were even explained that the mayor makes sure it is clean and free of animals roaming the streets.

From there we followed a street for a short while and then straight into the jungle and up a incline. For this part of the trek there was no mud – yay! Instead, slippery rocks formed steep steps that seemed to lead into the crevice between two large limestone cliffs/mountains. Daylight seemed to be swallowed up, the green was darker and everything was shimmering wet. It started drizzling and even raining a bit harder for a while, but we welcomed the cooling down. It eased the heat of fighting the incline and hid the profuse sweating going on.

Phase 2

We emerged onto a field of very high growing grass. It looked like sugar cane and towered above our heads – yes, Mo’s too, not only mine. We were told that it’s grown to feed cattle during the dry season. There’s just something about walking through dense monotonous growth.

Soon after the field, we arrived at a Hmong “village”, if you can call the sudden appearance of a few houses in the middle of nowhere that. Five families lived in that very remote valley, between limestone formations and jungle. They had pigs, chickens and dogs running around. Kids were playing in the swampy water of a small lake. Not a single grown up was around. The eldest girl was around 8 or 9 years old, watching over her siblings while everyone older tended the fields. 

Phase 3

Here we had lunch. Our guide produced two neatly wrapped packages of banana leaf, containing delicious fried noodles. We ate with piglets running between our feet and the sounds of the kids laughter echoing off the stone walls.

Lunch was followed by another steep and muddy incline. By then, we both had walking sticks (after only a short while we realized it was the only way we would survive the trek) – they saved us from many a slip and spill. As mentioned, most of the track was mud. Much of it was also quite overgrown with plants that either stroked your ankles and legs, prodded your waist or even slapped you in the face. Our guide, with a big fat machete on his belt, didn’t seem to care. Especially not for the one high up – poor Mo not only got most of the spider webs in his face, but also had to deal with many more branches in the way. And of course, the mosquitos were vicious! Every once in a while, I just wanted to stop and take in my surroundings. Look ahead and to the sides – see something other than the meter in front of my feet. Listen to the exotic sounds of the jungle – and not only the squelching of the mud beneath my feet (and in between my toes). But stopping was fatal. The second I stopped, the little swarm that followed me constantly would instantly latch on. Even while walking I sometimes felt a bit like a cow, swatting my ponytail with jerky head movements to keep the buzzing out of my ears.

After a while, the path seemed to brighten and we walked out of the jungle. The view that opened up to us was, on one hand absolutely amazing – vast stretches of green hills, treetops and limestone mountains lined the horizon. On the other hand, the only reason we were able to see this beautiful view was the fact that the hills to our feet had been completely slashed. Not a single tree remained, only their stumps, some still showing their charred scarring. The area had been cleared to plant mountain rice. Also a pretty sight to see – hills covered in the soft green. But it came of more as a shock at first. Slash and burn methods are killing rainforests worldwide and it’s scary to see up close and personal. I have to commend the hard work of the families living in the remote mountain villages, that trek the paths that we huffed and puffed along barefoot, with tools and baskets on their backs every day just to tend to their field. Farming on such steep hills, relying on the rain to ensure their crop grows and traveling far to the towns to sell their products. We saw some families at work and were greeted with warm toothless smiles.

Still alive. Still smiling. Barely.

Open Sesame.

Though looking ahead was a strange mix of awe and worry – standing amongst so many tree stumps and marveling at the great green ocean behind it – looking behind filled me with delight. Not only was the view onto the jungle we had just stepped out of very beautiful, but we had also just came out of it… We had trekked through that big lush mess and between those king kong mountains.

It was along this bright and, for once, dry path that we noticed some stowaway passengers on and in our shoes – leeches. I noticed Mo had stopped and turned back to see why. He said he had this weird worm on his shoe and then started getting a bit panicky when that strange worm turned out to be very difficult to remove – from his ankle. Turns out it was his very first encounter with a leech – congrats, Mo! I had a look and found some small ones on my shoes as well, luckily only one had attached itself and it mustn’t have been too long ago, because I pulled it off without it leaving a trace. They were pesky little buggers though and very hard to get rid of. If you managed to pull it off the shoe, it would latch onto your finger. So I would pull and then wildly flail my hand around with brute force. Our guide patiently waited for us and THEN told us that leeches don’t like deet, so a spritz of insect repellant would have probably done the job.

As the afternoon progresses, we started feeling the trek. Feeling it in our backs, legs and feet. Tiredness was setting in and every coat of mud felt like another kilo of weight added to our shoes. We kept a steady pace, but a slower one. Finding balance, despite the walking stick, was getting more difficult. But we had made it around 5h before uttering the first “I think I’m about ready for this trek to be over”. But it wasn’t.

We stopped at one more village and then trekked the last hour back to the river. An hour that felt (and probably was) much longer. An hour that it poured down on us. We could hear the rain coming – like when you approach a waterfall and you slowly hear it louder and louder as you get closer. Only it was like we were being chased by waterfalls, from behind and from the left. And we had just enough time to pull on our raincoats before the floodgates opened. Mud turned into ankle high sludge and our path into a little stream. No, the last hour was not very fun, but it made arriving at the river and realizing you just finished an 8h trek all the more rewarding. Washing the mud off shoes and legs felt like a ritual – we made it!

We stumbled back into our guesthouse and finally took off our wet shoes, revealing amphibian-like soggy feet. The shower was heavenly. And I will probably never again appreciate the comfort of being warm and dry as much as I did that evening.

We had dinner with “the family” in a nice garden restaurant – buffalo burgers and buy 1 take 1 Lao Lao cocktails. Burgers, because Mo and I dictated that we deserved a burger. Cocktails, because the rest of the gang dictated alcohol.
We had barely just finished our meal, when we heard our bed and most willingly headed to its call. Needless to say, we slept like babies.

27.-29.07.2015

Travel and Rest Day

Also needless to say, we did not jump out of bed the next morning. We stayed horizontal for as long as possible, We had cut a deal with the owner of the guesthouse – half a day in the room for half the price – and booked our bus tickets for that evening through him.

That day, most of us left Luang Prabang – by plane, by bus and by boat. We were the only ones taking those last few days of our visa to go to the border town of Houey Xai (probably the town with the most different spellings). It was going to be at least 12h and we were traveling by night. The afternoon was speckled with goodbyes and see-you-in-…s and it felt a bit like a chapter closing. Good times though, definitely good times.

The night bus turned out to be a slightly claustrophobic sleeping bus, on which all foreigners were coincidentally given bottom bunk. Up top you could look out the window, sit upright and generally had more space. The bottom had about 5cm of window, colorful brothel-like lighting and no space. Of course, I got the one and only broken chair, which was completely reclined and could not be propped up. The driver used a plastic bottle – that would have to do. I also had a missing air-con vent, meaning the cold air just flowed out uncontrollably and within no time I was hiding under my blanket. This was going to be a long and interesting night.

We got a little bottle of water, a plastic bag for our shoes (no shoes on in the bus!) and a comfy blanket. The music stayed off – thank god.

Mood lighting.

The broken chair was kind of a blessing in the end, because it made for a pretty comfortable sleeping position. It did also put my nose closer to the old man with very bad breath behind me, but as long as he stayed asleep with his mouth closed it was alright.

We stopped many times. Sometimes in towns, sometimes randomly next to the road. At one of those stops I got off to pee. It was pitch black, aside from the bus’s headlights. The men all veered off to the front of the bus and did their business. The women gathered more around the back. I took a few steps into the green in front of me, but the ground and growth beneath my feet felt a bit too foreign, so I didn’t dare venture further. I wasn’t wearing a practical skirt, as many women traditionally do. So I popped a squat and probably mooned the half of the bus that cared to look out the window.

I slept surprisingly well. I had also taken a Benadryl because the jungle trek had given me unbearably itchy arms. The only thing that robbed me of a precious hour or two was an infant – couldn’t have been older than a few weeks – that did what infants do. Except that it kept more than just its parents awake.

We must have stopped more often than I realized, because we arrived a few hours later than expected. It was an almost 15h journey and we stumbled off that bus in a daze.

Houy Sai was sleepy and kind of boring. And so were we. Or more like, we were sleepy and in the mood for being boring. Our legs were still heavy, our heads still wrapping around the fact that we’d be heading back into the jungle shortly.
So after finding a guesthouse, we stayed there. We went out for food and watched the BBC (the only English channel). Not really knowing what is going on in the world, a lot of the news was kind of hanging loosely in mid air, with no real context. But it was still great to be watching the BBC. So great in fact, that we did the same thing the next day, since The Gibbon Experience was booked out. We did also watch some series and the Minions movie. Being horizontal never felt so good.

30.07.-01.08.2015

THE Gibbon Experience – Flying High

After months of saying this was going to be THE thing we were going to do in Laos, we were finally going to do it – The Gibbon Experience. Known as an experience not to be missed when in this corner of the world. Some go for the zip lines, some to spend a night in a tree house high above the canopy of the jungle. Everyone goes for a unique adventure.

We departed the office in the morning in converted pick ups – we got a seat inside and it was a treat to be sitting in the inside of a real car. We were a group of eight people – an Aussie, an American, a Spaniard and a Brit that grew up in France, a British couple and us. 

Are we ready for this?

We drove for a bit over an hour. Civilization thinning out and green taking over. And then we were there, driving into the Bokor National Park. We stopped at a store and walked along rice paddies to a second vehicle – a converted 4x4. Up until then, we had no idea or plan and just followed the short instructive sentences the locals in our transportation told us. Our guides hat not yet outed themselves and nobody had told us the rundown.

All we knew was that we were driving even further into the national park via some pretty crazy dirt roads – steep and muddy. We had been warned about doing the tour during rainy season. There would be a possibility that, if rain had damaged the road too badly, we would have to walk the entire stretch to the jumping off point – around 8h. Luckily, we only walked a very short stretch so our car could maneuver its way out of a ditch. It was a fun ride, but bumpy – lift-you-off-your-seat bumpy!

We started the trek from a village, after a sandwich break, waded through a stream and into the jungle. Here, we re-embraced our old friend mud and went with the slippery flow of things immediately – no use in trying to tread carefully to try and keep your shoes dry. No use at all.

At the first basecamp we were given our harnesses and were finally introduced to our guides who explained our route for the next three days. The harnesses were surprisingly heavy and bore cut pieces of tire as hand-breaks. We were to wear them pretty much all day every day from then on. Backpacks on our backs, gloves on hands, harnesses hugging our waist and legs – we were ready to go!

The jungle was more beautiful here than outside Luang Prabang. Louder, more primal, with beautiful stretches of bamboo that criss crossed the path and sometimes made you feel like in a bamboo jail or a midget hiding between giant bamboo Mikado sticks.

Arriving at the first zip line, I hadn’t made up my mind on how to feel about dangling from a cable over the canopy, held in the air merely by a strange contraption, a carabiner and a bunch of ropes that called themselves a harness. I am not afraid afraid of hights, but I do have rational respect of them – meaning my stomach churns, my knees shake and I have the sudden urge to grab onto something very tightly ;)

But then… It was grand! It was exhilarating! It was the most amazing perspective one could have of the jungle – an endless stretch of trees, rolling, stretching as far as I could see. A horizon of green! And even looking down wasn’t as bad as I expected. The zip lines were high enough, unrealistically high even (apparently up to 150m above ground), that it was like a dream – and your never afraid when flying in dreams. The platforms we had to step off of to start zipping, however, were another story. My stomach summersaulted and my knees turned more jello-like standing on those dodgy looking wooden constructions, trying to make myself stand on my tiptoes to be able to hook my harness onto the cable.

Zip...

...zip...

...zip!

And that was or day, trekking – mainly upwards – and zipping our way through the rainforest, a mix of burning thighs, muddy shoes, wind in our hair and seeing how far we would make it to the other side. More often than not, we had to lean back, straighten our legs and “backwards plank” (as I called it) to make sure we made it to the end of the line. Otherwise, you’d end up having to pull yourself backwards, feet dangling over staggering heights and gravity threatening to tug you towards the center of the cable. I think most of us had to deal with the realization that our upper body strength could use some work.

We arrived at the treehouse via zip line – the only way in or out of this wooden construction. The view was amazing and the feeling very Tarzan and Jane. While the others explored the few zip lines that were around the house, in and out and back and forth, I stretched it out with a little yoga session on the top floor. When else will I get to do yoga in a tree?!

Living on the edge.

Home sweet home.

Also, who knew that going to the bathroom or showering could be so much fun. With a view like that, it becomes a whole nother experience!

Taking a go to new heights.

Dinner was zip lined to us and after talking till it was dark, we set up our mattresses and mosquito nets and fell asleep to the eyes of dozens of gigantic spiders glinting in many corners of the thatched roof.

Day two was pretty much same same. I had hardly slept, though I’m not quite sure why. Partially because of bug bites, maybe because of the noise. Probably because I’m not used to sleeping in a tree house in the middle of a jungle. I think I wasn’t the only one. We had a bit of a slow start, but eventually zipped out one by one and started the trek. I was the only one who hadn't done the zip out of the house - and this one required an extra dose of overcoming. Imagine waking up, having breakfast ad a cup of tea, brushing your teeth and then having to step over a ledge around 50m over the tree tops. Good morning, indeed!

And again, it was trek, zip, trek, zip, trek… From one platform, where four very long zip lines meet and we spent some time going back and forth after lunch, we spotted some of the elusive gibbons. Despite the name, it is rare to see them while on the tour, so it was an exciting moment. We watched a little group of them, some black, some golden jump from tree to tree.

And then we moved into a different tree house, closer to base. This one was really big and had three floors. Through binoculars, we spotted some large black squirrels and a watched a family of hornbills fly from tree to tree. That evening, we even saw a few more gibbons, just below (and a bit further out) our ideal viewing point. That is, when spotting these rare monkeys, you see more moving trees and branches and hear cracking bamboo than actually watching the furry creatures themselves. But it’s quite special nonetheless. We spent a long time in complete silence, staring at the jungle below, until it was too dark to see and our eyelids to heavy to hold open. I believe we went to bed around 8:30pm that night.

Falling to sleep to this...

...and waking up to this - Pure beauty.

On the last day we slowly made our way back, stopping for a few extra zips on our favorite ones, before heading back to base cam, back to the village and back on that crazy converted 4x4. The new groups heading into the jungle looked so fresh and clean. No muddy shoes, no angry red bug bites everywhere, no sweaty foreheads or stained clothes. We could smell ourselves (starting the first evening actually) and barely remember the color of our shoe laces or shoes for that matter. But it didn’t matter, we didn’t care. What are some smelly clothes and itchy spots (on my entire body!) when you consider that we slept in the highest tree houses in the world, zip lined with the most spectacular view and spotted some wild gibbons along the way?!

At lunch our guides said goodbye and by mid afternoon we were back in the office. Air conditioning and chart music instead of a light drizzle and the sound of frogs and crickets. But it didn’t matter, the memories we had created and the experiences we made still lingered. And will continue to do so for many years to come.

Last but definitely not least... This AWESOME video of Mo zipping and our guide hanging on his back filming it :)