Careerbreak -: Traveling without a User’s Manual

Despite having several useful guidebooks, ebooks, online resources, and gps maps on our phones, we have still managed to find ourselves lost in awkward situations without the right words to express the absurdity of our snafus. (I think "snafu" should be spelled "snafoo".)

Scene One:

It’s 0500 and we have decided to take the motorbike in Hoi An, Vietnam for a ride to the lighthouse to watch the sun come up and see the fisherfolk do their thing. We tiptoe out of our guesthouse and come to a locked gate at the entrance. How do we get the bike out of the gate? We consider climbing the gate but that won’t solve the bike dilemma. We look around for a doorbell to ask the family to open the gate. Phil finds something next to the main door. “Do you think this is the doorbell? It kind of looks like a fire alarm,” he says. “I don’t know. Can you read what it says on the button?” I reply. “No,” he says. “Well I guess you can give it a try if you think it is the doorbell,” I say. Seconds later a very loud, obnoxious ringing from the red fire alarm above the button begins and we can’t find an off switch. We wake the family. We wake the other guests. We wake the neighborhood. Did I mention it is 5am? The family gains entry into the reception area and locates the off switch. We are let out of the gate and shown where the real doorbell is located, next to the gate. We get on our motorbike, chagrined, and drive off into the sunrise.

Scene Two:

We arrive in Vientiane, Laos with the plan to meet our friends at a restaurant that is very popular in town. We forget to look up the address online. There is no WIFI in the airport. (I can’t really believe we now expect to get free WIFI at airports. How spoiled are we?) We look around for a tourist map/guide and find one in Japanese; this is unhelpful. We ask the taxi stand people if they know “Sticky Fingers” restaurant. Multiple shakes of the head “no”, but after a bit more discussion someone says “yes”. We get in the taxi and drive in to town. We drive around. We drive around some more. We start to worry that the driver does not actually know where we want to go. And then the driver stops at a hotel and looks at us expectantly. We say, “No, we want to go to the restaurant Sticky Fingers.” He proceeds to drive around aimlessly a bit more while we restate the name in different inflections, faster, slower, different accents. Phil tries to act out sticky fingers. I try writing in English the name. None of our efforts seems to help the poor Lao-speaking driver. Then I gesture eating and our driver has an “aha” moment and takes us to a restaurant…not Sticky Fingers. Needless to say, I end up on the driver’s cell phone speaking to someone who speaks some English and we agree to go back to a hotel we passed earlier in the ride. At the hotel, they are kind enough to give us a map and direct us to the restaurant, which is two blocks away. Being the brilliant people that we are, as soon as we leave the hotel, we start walking in the opposite direction of the restaurant. An hour and two beers later, we join our friends at the restaurant.

Scene Three:

We drive to Kuangxi outside Luang Prabang, Laos to visit a waterfall. We have read in Lonely Planet that you can ascend to the top of the falls on the left or right, the right being more perilous. So, of course, we choose the right side, the side less travelled. Half way up the waterfall we encounter a fork in the road. The path to the right appears larger and more defined although in the opposite direction of the waterfall. Again, we go right. The vistas are beautiful, the heat is scorching, and the sound of the waterfall is receding as we continue our climb. Every few meters one of us questions our decision but the scenery is lovely, the hike is good and so we keep trekking. At last, we come upon a beautifully tended terraced garden, a couple thatch-roofed dwellings and a breathtaking view…and no waterfall.

It seems we have simply stumbled into someone’s home. I am ready to turn around but Phil continues up and greets the family. They sell us a bag of chips and we sit and enjoy the grand view. And then the family gestures us up the hill and says, “Waterfall up 5 minutes.” As we are leaving, Phil walks his face in to a barb-wired fence (He is up to date on his tetanus.) and we agree that we are definitely not on the normal path. Further along, we come upon a man machete-ing tree branches. We greet him and keep walking and we are again concerned that we have moved on to the neighbor’s property. And yet, we continue to walk until we are blessed by the sound of the waterfall.