5 Near Death Experiences

I've been remiss. Let me start with an email from my brother:

Hey hermano

you break your fingers in that moto accident? cant write email? im glad to hear you are well, even if it is only through what mom and dad tell me.

just cuz you are in an OECD country you think you dont have to make blog posts anymore? you aren't on a honeymoon or anything, i expect intelligent analysis of foreign cultures, comic retellings of common day activities and exquisite exposés on ethnic gastronomy.

sorry for the accusational tone above, i hope you are having a good time, and im just curious as to what my big bro bro is up to.

have you put any shrimp on the barbie? had a fosters? gotten in a boxing fight with a kangaroo? found nemo?

Toodles,

Nick

ps new yorker and atlantic monthly both have all their content available online. hours of high brow entertainment and education. if ya know you need a rest from seeing the world and just want to read about it instead.

Nick, you are right, I haven't fulfilled my duty as blogwritter these past many weeks. I hope that it isn't too late to change that. I vow to write a new post in my blog every day (or nearly every day) for the next 10 days! And more beyond that! I'll write about Asia! I'll write about Australia!! I'll try to provide pictures!

I suppose the first thing I need to address is my brothers reference to a moto accident. It is true that indeed I did have an itsy bitsy motorbike accident, but as I said to my parents - no broken bones and I survived, which is the important thing, right?

The story of the accident isn't super interesting. I was in Laos, having left Adrienne behind in the city of Luang Prabang, while I ventured on to Phonsavan for a day. We were only sepereated for about 60 hours and only because Adrienne didn't relish the idea of the extra 9 hours on the bus my side-jaunt would take. In short, the accident happened while I was alone!

Phonsovan is famous for 2 things: (1) it was the most heavily bombed provence in Laos during the Vietnam War [and Laos has been the most heavily bombed country on earth, thanks to the 'secret war' the US waged contiuously as its efforts in Vietnam], and (2) it is home to 'The Plain of Jars', which was what really enticed me. To sum up 'Da Jars' in brief: A field full of mysterious stone jars, older than Christ and origionally created for unknown purposes - a veritable asian Stonehendge. Bombs and Old stuff; that's how I travel.

Obviously I needed to get onto a motorbike inorder to crash it - so upon arriving I met a fellow traveler (who happened to own and ride a motorcycle back home in England) who convinced me to skip the lame tour groups and ride a bike and see everything on my own. The next morning we set out for a 30 mile ride out to see a cave which had been bombed out, killing everyone inside over 30 years ago. The ride out was beautiful, the cave somber and the return trip disasterous. We agreed upon leaving the cave to meet back in town for lunch at 'the indian restaurant'. About 5 minutes down the road the experienced rider sped on ahead and left me behind. Not 3 minutes later than rounding a turn did I come in too fast, panic, break incorrectly (with the hand break, not the superior footbreak) and skid out into a pile of gravel.

Surprised and relieved to still be alive, I quickly concluded nothing hurt that much, but the discompashionate cars which drove pass annoyed me. Would nobody stop of a crashed motorcyclist? Someone did - the owner of my hotel who was driving the tour group I'd shunned in favor of a motorcycle trip. He hopped out, helped me up, checked out me and my bike - I assured him I was fine but was more concerned for the bike [breaking them is terribly expensive]. After satisfying his concerns, the hotel owner drove on and I gingerly hopped back on my bike to drive back to town.

I was lucky. Very, Very Lucky. I had some scrapes on my knees, which looked worse than they were thanks to the blood they poured onto my pants. My left elbow got it worst, which the next day I went to the hospital to have cleanned professionally. And the bike landed on my foot giving me a limp for a few days, but nothing serious, nothing long lasting, nothing unlucky.

But I still hadn't seen my jars. After returning to town, I cleaned myself up with my first aid kit, had a rest then met up with my travel buddy to head out to see 'Da Jars'. We got to two of the 3 sights (the best two, by rumor) and were awed by the idea. To be honest they don't blow you away like Stonehendge, but jars aren't as exciting as precariously balanced rocks; that's just a reality. It was still cool and to prove I made it there:

So, in retrospect perhaps I shouldn't have gotten a motorcycle, or at least I shouldn't have driven so fast. But as they say in South East Asia: "You haven't done South East Asia until you've had 5 near death experiences." That's one, stay tuned for the rest of the list!