sandbuckets acquire a new association

Vang Vieng is the cultural disaster of Laos, worse even I might venture that the legendary Full Moon party of Koh Pangan. Here the hastily constructed town consisting of cheap corrugated eateries, quasi-pancake stalls (if we were to judge these pastries (?) romantically you might be inclined to put them down to a French colonial hangover) and 'Friends' bars, caters to what appears to be the entire regurgitated teenage clientele of Chelsea drinking hole 'The Goat in Boots'. The Friends bars allow the Public School Circuits gap year tragic heroes to recover enough strength to go out 'on the lash' again at firm favourite The Bucket Bar (free buckets of whisky from 8.30-9.30) whilst mindlessly absorbing the antics of 6 fictional americans in back to back episodes/series those wishing to find a little more diversity might push the boat out and find the 'Family Guy' bar. Most sport war wounds - unsurprising given the gallimaufry of accidents in waiting from ex-lovers to rocky rivers, motorbikes and fire limbo which are top of everyones Vang Vieng to do list. That and the bars provide a more sociable setting for redressing wounds without missing out on valuable banter.

The town is firmly in the tight embrace of the Lotus eaters and after managing to get down to the river to go 'tubing' - essentially a novel, if somewhat watery and perilous medium of bar hopping - and contracting unspeakable diseases from the mud volleyball pit I decided I would venture out into unknown territory for this grotesque adventure playground and discover a wholesome element without compromising enjoyment if I could avoid the ubiquitous menu 'happy options.'

First off I ruled out caving despite it fauning writeup as alone it would have been duller than the water and I was still being given stick for the kayaking to the Pak Ou caves. However, I persuaded a disenchanted partygoier to join me at a Laotian cooking class and another to the organic farm that ran the areas volunteering. The cookery class was dirty, accompianed by the sounds of a staff member retching and produced a somewhat questionable meal after our endeavours. However, it was also hysterical. Our teacher Tompetri burst out into spontaneous song and lamented over our attempts at laap (a meat specialty) with equal vigour and whisked us expertly around the market to buy ingredients whilst balancing them perfectly on the front of his moped (we occupied the back). Onto the farm tomorrow.