Traveling Troubles

Traveling is truly glorious. It opens your eyes to new worlds and customs, but also to a new you. When you put yourself into situations that are not typical for you, you must find new ways to accomplish things. You are often faced with challenges, but it is in the overcoming of those that you learn about yourself and strengthen who you are. Today was a challenging and yet strengthening day.

I've grown accustomed to train travel throughout Europe. I love trains, even though they sometimes still confuse me. My friends and I struggled traveling through Europe years ago when we had to take seven trains in a day or didn't book in time so there were no seats and we sat between cars or slept on the floor of a dining cart. Despite all of that, I still feel fairly comfortable with trains. Buses are a completely new challenge for me, though. I have only ridden a public transportation bus a handful of times in my life. The schedules confuse me as do determining where, in a new city, I am to get off.

Jessica and I rode a bus from Sukhothai to Chiang Mai the other day and had few troubles, even though the bus was not in the nicest of conditions. We had read of the bus from Chiang Mai that went to the Laos border, we did our research as best we could and arrived nearly an hour early to the bus station to find that tickets for the bus were sold out. Traveling during the low season, not encountering many crowds along the way, we never imagined this would happen. 

Let me also mention how crucial timing was for this day. We knew that we had a 6-7 hour bus trip that would take us to border control, where we then took a bus across the border and into Laos. We had heard conflicting information that the border control office closed at either 4 or 5, but we wanted to be there in plenty of time, as well as hoping to get to the Gibbon Experience office before they closed at 5 to check in for tomorrow's adventure.

Going back to the bus station... we bought a ticket for a bus that left soon after the one we wanted to, but went to Chiang Rai, a town about 2/3 along the way of our journey. From there, we had heard there were local buses we could take that left every half hour.

The Green Line bus to Chiang Rai was great: clean, air-conditioned, assigned seats and Thai music playing. No problems.

We arrived at the Chiang Rai bus station, and by station, I mean gravel, dust-filled parking lot with a few seats under a cover and vehicles moving all around. (We later heard the real one was under reconstruction.) Arriving at 12:05, we watched the 12:00 bus pull out as we entered. So, like any other American my age, I pulled up Uber to see if it were possible for an Uber to take us the two hour journey. A driver quickly responded and we moved out of the parking lot to try to meet up with him. Through broken English and Google translate, we had trouble communicating. The price seemed fine, but we didn't feel completely comfortable and he seemed to be saying he would just drive us to another driver, so, we backed out and went back to look for a local bus. For some reason, the next one did not leave until 1:30, pushing our time incredibly close, but we seemed to have no other options. While waiting to load the bus, we watched our driver struggle to reverse it out of one spot and into another. So much trouble in fact, that six other drivers had to come to push the bus. Yep, the bus we were about to board had to be pushed.

There was little shade in the parking lot, so in heat like an Alabama summer, we sat on the non-air conditioned bus for an hour in the parking lot, sweating profusely, but making sure to claim our seats. The bus filled up and we pulled out, just a few minutes late. To help you picture this bus, know that I felt it looked more like a trolley, including its bright red color. Windows down and the door tied open as we drove down the road made the heat very bearable. We drove through beautiful valleys surrounded by lush, green mountains, passing farmers working in their rice fields. 

 

Our driver seemed to struggle with the gear shift, and it often felt as though we left a transmission or two behind. The smallest of hills made me feel like chanting "I think I can, I think I can!" 

At 3:45, the bus assistant signaled to us that it was our stop, the stop to Laos. Tuk-tuks were waiting at the bus stop to help take travelers the five kilometers to border patrol. However, our driver appeared to not be in quite the rush that we were in. At 3:54, we pulled up, leapt out of the vehicle and were thankfully greeted by friendly patrol officers who also did not seem to be in a hurry. (Just FYI, when you come into Thailand, you are given a sort of immigration card. Hold on to that.)

Laos and Thailand are separated by a river, so crossing from one country to another does not all happen inside the same building. After leaving Thailand immigration officers, you buy a ticket for a bus. The bus, just outside the door takes you across the river and drops you off at Laos border control. Here, after filling out paperwork, you hand your passport over. Yep, that's a terrifying thing. Some people, behind closed doors took my passport for a matter of minutes and thankfully returned it to me with a new stamp and a new Laos visa.

Outside, two men greeted us and asked if we wanted to share a taxi to town as it was cheaper. We gladly climbed into the taxi (a pick-up with a cover and a bench on each side) and rode the fifteen minutes to town where we arrived at the Gibbon Experience office with about twelve minutes to spare. All signed in and ready for our adventure, we headed to find our hotel in this itty bitty town. Size apart, we got conflicting reports of where the hotel was, but eventually made it safely to the place we'll call home for a night. Whew.