Run the equator: boats
Showing posts with label boats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boats. Show all posts

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The longest boat ride

Burning land
Click photo to see slideshow
or here for all Mekong trip photos

The major attractions of the Laos tourist track are strung like beads on a rope along Route 13, which spans the whole length of the north-south axis of this country shaped somewhat like a deformed cooking pan or a spiked battle axe. Once you’ve seen the south and followed the Mekong northwards through the “panhandle” to Vientiane, once you’re done with tubing and partying in Vang Vieng and got your share of temple photos in Luang Prabang, you have a choice: you can either continue the arduous land journey north, to the remote highlands in the Phongsali province, or you can return to Thailand - which is what most tourists do. It wouldn’t be much fun to backtrack your steps all the way to Vientiane in order to cross the border; no traveler likes seeing the same roads again on their way home. Fortunately, there’s a better alternative: the Mekong.

A cozy spot

From Luang Prabang to Huay Xai on the Thai border, the river journey takes two days by slow-boat. These are long, low-floating, single-deck covered boats capable of transporting a few dozen passengers. Called slow-boats for the obvious reason that there are also fast boats on the same route, most tourist prefer them to the faster alternative for reasons related to comfort and safety - the fast boats are minuscule, ultra-light contraptions that can only seat a few cramped passengers and move at break-neck speed; they have been known to flip over occasionally, with deadly consequences. The level of comfort on the slow boat varies with the number of people and the quality of the seats. Most boats have a few rows of reclining seats that look like they have just been ripped out of a minibus – in fact they are just that: minibus seats whose metal railings have been mounted on pieces of wood so they won’t damage the lacquered wooden floor planks. In addition to those, the boats hold a number of movable small wooden benches who look - and are - very uncomfortable; in the long run, the coziest spot for resting may end up being the floor. There is a bathroom on board and drinks are can be purchased. You can walk around, stretch your legs or lie down if you chose, and with the right company, be that people you like or a good book, you can spend the time pleasantly. And time you have, if nothing else; each day, for 10 hours, the boat munches its way against the current through the never-ending jungle-covered hills, through swats of land fallen victim to the yearly slash-and-burn agricultural ritual, through mountains of layered sediment brought downstream by past floods and millions of monsoon seasons.

Sunset on the river

There is a travel agency in every house on the main street in Luang Prabang; all of them sell tickets for the slow boat - at a charge. They seem to be doing a good business of it - few tourists bother going down to the slow-boat landing to check the prices at the ticket office. The fare to Pak Beng - a riverside village where you must spend the first night, half-way between Luang Prabang and the Thai border - is 110,000 kip for foreigners (about $12.50), but the more brazen agencies will slap an extra 30,000 kip ($3.50) on your back – one of those rackets is right near the ticket booth! In Pak Beng the ticket for the second leg of the trip costs 115,000 for foreigners, but if you fall for the tricks of the few Luang Prabang agencies who sell the ticket all the way to the border, you’ll pay a lot more. As usual, it’s worth checking prices in advance - buy the ticket at the pier or negotiate with the travel agencies. Sadly, the complacent attitude of many tourists, “oh, it’s only three more dollars, never mind,” works against everybody’s interest giving a blank check to businesses’ greed. It only helps drive prices higher for both locals and tourists.

  “How many hours to Pak Beng?” I ask the lady behind the desk at the travel agency.
  “6 or 7. Boat leaves at 8:30 in the morning.”
  “On the second day, are we going to arrive at the border before it closes?” I wanted to know if we had to spend two more nights in Laos or just one.
  “Yes.” I realize I just asked a question leading to the answer that I wanted to hear, so I rephrase:
  “What time do we arrive at the border on the second day?”
  “At three o’clock,” she assures me. The border closes at 6PM, so we may make it to the Thai side the same day. Three different agencies give me similar answers.

Slash and burn

But we didn’t make it in time. The first day of traveling, we took 9 hours to Pak Beng. The second day we spent 10 hours afloat and we arrived in Huay Xai after dark. What is this worldwide tendency of travel agents to lie to their customers about arrival times? They know how long the trip really takes, don’t they?! We would have taken the boat anyway, even if they had told us the truth... Spending a last night in Laos wasn’t bad at all. I enjoyed the last few Beerlao (one of my favorite lagers on this trip) with Craig, Rae and Jordan, some Aussies we had met on the boat, and spent our last kip which were going to become useless once we arrived in Thailand – you can pay for almost everything in Thai baht on the Lao side of the border but you cannot use kip anywhere else.

And so the next day we crossed the river into Thailand and took a minibus to Chiang Mai. We had reached the last destination of our year-long journey.

Posted from Hat Sai Khao beach, Ko Chang island, Thailand.

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Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Las Islas Encantadas

Sea lion
My favorite sea lion.
Click on picture for slide-show (167 pics!)
or here to access the first set.

I won’t try to tell you how beautiful, amazing, fascinating or (insert superlative adjective of your choice) those islands are; I will let the pictures speak for themselves instead. They may not want to speak out loud either because during most of our cruise the sky was covered with clouds, which didn’t make my camera happy at all. However, the 300mm lens helped a lot with the wildlife. There isn’t really a need for such powerful zoom except for close-ups; in most places the animals are so close you can touch them - which, of course, you shouldn’t and neither should you feed them the crackers that you brought with you to snack upon.

Tortoise
Dinner time!
Click on picture for slide-show (148 pics!)
or here to access the second set.

There are a few daily flights to the islands from Quito and Guayaquil, and people pour in by the hundreds (or should I say thousands?) into the airport built by the Americans in the 40s on Baltra island. The first thing one does after leaving the tarmac is to reach for the wallet and pay the $100 park entrance fee. I don’t know what happens with this money but I hope it goes to a good cause. Next you find your guide (assuming you booked a tour, which is what most people do, unless they decided to hunt for last-minute deals in Puerto Ayora), and meet the rest of the group you will share the boat with for the next 5 or 8 days, depending on your tour package. You check out the faces of people waiting for their luggage and pray that whoever it is, they not be too annoying, stuck-up, boring, too old, or speak no English...

Land iguana
A little awkward but still happy.
Click on picture for slide-show (121 pics!)
or here to access the third set.

Life on board is as easy as you make it… and as comfortable as you paid for. The only difference between the various classes of boats is what you get on board; the wildlife doesn’t know the luxury cruise passenger paid a thousand dollars more than the hippies on the economy boat. We chose a “tourist superior” class schooner which offered great comfort for its size. The cabins were small but they all had private bathrooms with hot water. The food was great and there was enough of it, three times a day, including desert with lunch and dinner; I don’t think I have had such a regular meal schedule since I was 6 years old and living with my parents (no, I wasn’t in the army). There were only 12 passengers, which is a good group size; you can get to know them all, and if somebody is annoying or awkward to talk to, you can always switch places at the table for the next meal. As antisocial as I am, I didn’t get to hate anybody; I spoke Italian with an older Italian couple, there were two German guys which helped me practice the rusty remains of my German, and I tried my Spanish with the crew. Everybody else was from English-speaking countries… except for the British couple Lisa and Matthew – I didn’t understand a word they were saying. We became friends with Mor (that’s a girl name, in Israel) and Michael, and we may see them again in Cuzco and Buenos Aires since they are following a route similar to ours.

Albatrosses
Albatross mating ritual

Our guide, Juan, was an ageless-looking forty-something black guy, spoke decent English using lots of infinitive verbs, and had a peculiar sense of humor. He liked to repeat things: “sea lions, sea lions, sea lions” or “boobies, boobies, boobies” (the birds, that is) and sometimes gave short moralizing lectures about the ravages that homo sapiens would perpetrate on “his” islands if the park authority (and himself as a representative) wouldn’t protect them.

And protected they are, indeed. There is a limited number of tour-boat licenses (a hundred from what I gathered), which effectively limits the number of tourists that disembark each day on the islands. Getting new licenses may be possible if you have lots of money and friends high up in the government but it doesn’t seem to be the norm. The routes of the boats are also regulated by the park authority to prevent too many boats from anchoring in a place at the same time. The park also sets the times when tour groups from various boats can land on the islands in an effort to prevent overcrowding of trails and to avoid stressing the wild life, which one day may not be so eager to share the same habitat with the humans and may run away at their approach. The number of people in a visiting group is limited to 16 and trail paths are also marked and must be respected – not that most people who visit Galapagos would want to steal albatross eggs from their nests - the dangers here are erosion and carelessness. These practices seem to be bearing fruit - the islands are clean (no coca-cola bottles or cigarette butts anywhere), we’ve rarely seen more than one other group on the same trail with us and the animals still ignore you when you get close to them.

Fritz and Angela
That's us!

We did a few dives and a lot of snorkeling as well, and while the underwater scenery wasn’t too impressive, it was interesting nonetheless. There is no coral reef in the Galapagos (at least not at the sites we visited) so the bottom of the ocean isn’t of much interest. There were many fish down there of course, but no huge schools like we were expecting. The highlights were always the manta rays, the sting rays, the moray eels and… the sharks and we saw quite a few of them. Of course, the sharks were small and were minding their own business; otherwise I don’t think we would have been getting close to look at them with excitement; we would have done quite the opposite, if I may say so…

If I had discovered Galapagos when I was younger I would have certainly dreamed of a different career path: the joke of the day on the boat had been revolving around the new “hot” profession, the goat killer. The islands, it seems, have a large numbers of species introduced accidentally by the humans, one of them being the goat. These creatures are such pests that no other species can compete with them for food, surely not the slow giant tortoises and the iguanas. Goats devour all plant life and have the reproducing capabilities of a copying machine. Besides, in a bizarre twist which serves only to prove Darwin’s theory of evolution, they have adapted their bodies to drink salt water. Lest the last of the endemic wildlife die of hunger, the government started a goat-eradication program some years ago and has successfully eliminated the quadruped on most islands, bullet by bullet, goat by goat. It seems to be a well paid job, although it must be quite exasperating to have to keep aiming at pairs of horns for eight hours a day. Do you think these guys have a “bring your daughter to work” day?

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