All, Inspire
Act 1. Overnight ‘sleeper’ bus from Hanoi to Vientiane, March 2014. Amongst other fellow travelers sharing our insomnia, we get chatting to a slightly eccentric English dude with a ginger afro, who tells us he’s off to find this mythical place. A field of pot, somewhere in northeast Laos. He’s asked the driver to give him directions, but after nearly being left by the roadside in the middle of nowhere at 4am, he decides to try from Vientiane.
Act 2. April 2014. After completing a loop of Bangkok, Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi, we overhear ginger-afro’s Scooby-doo voice on Beer Hoi corner in the old city. Vientiane was a no-go. So was Vang Vien. He had hitchhiked to some village with a snake farm high in the mountains but was forced to return after the small windy road over the pass was blocked for the third day running by a couple of overturned lorries. As so many before him, he had given up and gone tubing.
Act 3. Rumors skitted around just out of earshot in Luang Prabang as we visited this time around, November 2014. What was it, who has been, and how had they managed to get there? We felt like Richard at the beginning of The Beach, we even met a dude who looked like Robert Carlisle, but he turned out to be Dutch, excessively boring, negative and worst of all, sober.
Our imaginations stretched to their limits, 6 of our bravest decided to take the plunge into the unknown and hire a minivan to give us the best shot of actually making it to the Plain of Jars.
Within 5 minutes of meeting our driver ridiculously early in a misty morning in Luang Prabang, we were stopped dead in the road. Our driver was picking up his breakfast. 20 minutes later, we were tearing past our first turned up lorry on the windy mountain road south. This is starting well, we all thought to ourselves, and decided for the first time in 2 weeks to use our seatbelts.
As the morning got warmer, the scenery unfolded itself in the most spectacular way as we wound higher and higher into the mountains where, in fitting fashion with our adventure into the unknown and possibly paranormal, it suddenly got colder and colder.
6 hour of windy driving brought us to our third stop of the day, the tiny village of nun-chuck. Things went from curious to surreal when of the 4 ordered chicken soup lunches only 3 were served with chicken. Dr Rick and Mr. Yuen started acting strangely after conversing with a passing rooster and enquiries about plain-clothed men on mopeds carrying assault rifles were brushed off by our driver. “For security. So if anything happens, there is always someone for safety”. What happened? Safety of whom?
We arrived in Phonsavan that evening, our driver first reluctant to take us to site 1 for sunset, “it is too far”, “it is closed”, “there are daemons who invite themselves to dinner”. 150000 kip apparently shooed the daemons away. We set up time lapses between the eerie looking megalithic stone structures. The sunset bathed the fields and hundreds of jars blood red, and more than once did we get the feeling of someone nudging our shoulder, just to turn around and see there was no one there. Two other tourists and a couple of villagers with dogs shared the scene with us before the sun finally dropped below the horizon and we scampered back to our golf buggy.
We all had our theories of course. Our on board criminologist Dr Rick has it on good authority that the giant stone jars were used for keeping buffalo safe from sabre-tooth tigers. He enthusiastically pointed at foot long tooth marks at the mouths of the pots. Ms Jodie MSc PHD from the world renowned university of Maidstone presented her paper arguing her theory of pre-historic human giants leaving only LaoLao cups behind, as they became extinct along with all the dinosaurs.
Ancient Siam historian Dr Yuen brought forward his well-documented book on the iron-age giant peanut, and the locals’ need for large storage containers for their staple of peanut butter. Prof. Toto took photos and looked confused, whilst whackjob Nic wouldn’t shut up about aliens and manic Matt just stood there shouting “MEEEERica”.
We slept uneasily that night, probably due to the freezing cold, reading about theories of jar burial sites and our attempted nerve remedy of LaoLao. A deserted Stonehenge (built around the same time) hours drive from anywhere at night would give even the sturdiest shivers. Especially after watching ‘The Descent’ with no popcorn.
Site two and three proved even more intriguing, and after a good half an hour of persuading our driver that it wasn’t too far, there was a functioning road, and that the sites weren’t closed (and a little help from head office regarding payment of his fee), we were on a rocky but adequate road further west. Warning signs detailed the presence of land mines and cluster bombs that had been dropped throughout the area during The Secret War, so we kept well inside the marked ‘safe’ perimeters, that is where you could see the markings.
A friendly cow lead our way through rice paddies to site three in a hillside field, which, perched amongst some pretty trees was a lot more inviting until Dr Rick found a cluster of huge spiders in one of the jars. Site two was equally if not more impressive and the view from the hilltop setting was so wonderful that not even the jar that made everything in its immediate surroundings spontaneously levitate freaked us out.
We had made it. This ancient, mythical place had finally been conquered by our little group of 6 adventurers, henceforth to be known to the world as The Pot People. As we gazed over the serene landscape we felt a sense of accomplishment but also a slight niggle of apprehension. Were we here of our own accord, or had this magical place called us and with it, conquered us?
All, Destinations
The mother of water. The cocoa coloured wonder. The Mighty Mekong. Call it what you like, this river rich in history, legend and adventure had us awe struck from the moment we set foot on our long, slim slow boat to begin our 2 week trek from the Northwest to the deep South of Laos.
More Stray adventurers had joined our group (check out our Thai trip!) over the last day to now collectively gawp at sunny rays softly illuminating the incredible scenery of lush green rainforest covered hills, elephants being bathed nearby little villages and kids back-flipping into the rushing river. Apart from filming, there was little to do but take in the scenery, and it was so spectacular that even after 5 hours straight, we got off the boat and still stood staring in wonder at our surroundings.
Our first night was to be spent in a homestay village right on the Mekong. We arrived around 4pm, just in time to join the local kids for a few games of football and some singing and playing tag at the local school. Newcomers Rick, Jodie, Matt, Paige, Brian and Anna did us proud by jumping straight into the fray with everyone else as we ran, hollered, laughed till we cried and rolled around on the floor with equally enthusiastic local kids from three to 20+ years old. It was HUGE amounts of genuine fun and luckily for everyone there was a head teacher monitoring that all kids (he included us in this definition) played nice.
We also had two groups of older and way wiser Dutch (Ellie, Michael and Jolien) and Kiwi (Amanda and Kayla) travellers with us, who had kept mainly to themselves (we can’t blame them as we’d turned into a bit of a rowdy bunch), but joined in in full swing, which was fantastic. Playtime ended when Ellie was hit by a near scoring ball but it was getting dark and everyone was hungry so both teams decided to call it a draw – apart from the goal Rick scored, but for some reason this still made it a draw. It struck us over amazing candle lit dinner under the stars (the generator had kicked the bucket after the entrée) that everyone was so uncomplicated, that there was no resentment or “that was definitely offside” or arguing at all – everyone’s sheer joy at playing together was so infectious that the usual dinner conversations that, at least in the UK, inevitably involved complaining about something were replaced by everyone chatting about how amazing life was.
The power cut had other positive effects as we sat on the floor in one of the small houses, our tummies full to bursting with delicious food, and were treated by the village elders to a Ba Si Soul Calling ceremony, that was rendered all the more magical by the necessity of being candle lit. The villagers had spent hours that day painstakingly preparing a small offering of sweet banana sticky rice, an egg, a bundle of flowers, a candle and incense in a small banana leaf tray for each one of us. In the middle of the room stood a beautifully decorated centerpiece of fresh flowers, banana leaves and white cotton threads – 32 per person to symbolize 32 parts of the body – that the elders proceeded to tie around each person’s wrists individually in order to call back lost fragments of the soul and tie them back together for peace and harmony. Even describing the ceremony as magical, moving and thoroughly wonderful wouldn’t do it justice, as every one of us agreed it was one of the most beautiful things we had experienced on our travels.
After a good nights sleep in bamboo stilt huts, we headed further down the Mekong and stopped off at the Pak Ou Cave filled with Buddha statues (where our hand made flower, candle and incense bundles came in handy) and amazing views across the river. Soon after we arrived at the shores of one of the top destinations on our wish list: Luang Prabang.
Unesco world heritage site (we keep on bumping into these!!) since 1995 and originally founded in 698 AD, Luang Prabang is teaming with history, art, awesome food, great markets and saffron clad monks. You can get the best view right from the centre of town, after climbing aptly named ‘Phu Si Hill’ (*cue giggles from our Rat & Rebecca*), and we can see why people get stuck here. Most things are within walking distance, and there so much to do, including marveling at over 30 distinct temples, mountain biking to nearby turquoise-coloured Kuang Si waterfalls, learning how to cook amazing food at Tamarind and enjoying the most talented of the South East Asian movie business show off their latest projects at the yearly Luang Prabang Film festival.
One activity we most enjoyed during our short visit was visiting the Living Land Farm where assistant manager and all-around small, nimble and smiley guy Sia Lee walked us through the numerous stages of rice farming. It was an utter joy watching Sia, who was incredibly knowledgeable, humble and sweet as he showed us in true hands-on Laos style how to germinate, plant, plough, weed, harvest, dry and process rice plants and the entire group relished getting stuck in the knee deep soft and squelchy mud whilst singing planting songs, clearing space for young rice saplings and steering ‘Suzuki’, the obedient but massive water buffalo through a flooded paddy in need of a plough. Sia told us all about the project, that he had set up with his brother Laut, to employ locals who would otherwise not find work due to their low educational background and supplies Luang Prabang’s restaurants with organic rice, vegetables, herbs and salad greens.
After all the planting, dodging Suzuki’s horns and breath, grinding rice flower, squeezing juice from sugarcane and picking salad fresh from the pristine gardens, Sia instructed us on using all sorts of ingenious contraptions made out of bamboo, including steamers, fish & rat traps, irrigation systems, bowls, baskets and most fun of all – a crossbow. As we took aim and mostly missed at a flaming yellow flower perched on a haystack, an incredible smell seeped through the hut – the food we’d been gathering was cooked and ready to feast upon. And what a feast it was. Refined and flavoursome as a high-class restaurant, we munched on deep fried rice crackers, coconut waffles, chili & buffalo skin sauce, garden fresh salad and carrots. It was incredible and we’d visit the Living Land Farm again in a heartbeat.
Time was pressing on and, over an amazing dinner only reachable via a small bamboo footbridge that gets washed away by monsoon each year and subsequently re-built (fairy lights and all), we said goodbye to most of our group who continued to Vientiane. We on the other hand had heard rumors floating around Luang Prabang of a mystical and long-forgotten place: The Plane of Jars in North-East Laos. The magnitude of one of our most surreal trips to date simply won’t fit into 5 lines, so check out the lowdown here.
****** short break due to possible alien abduction******
Go! Grab a quick pee-break, a cup of tea or stiff drink. For you insatiable spirits, we continue our travels in TLC: Southern Laos.
All, Destinations
6 months ago we were in a rice field shouting “Nam. You weren’t there! You didn’t know what it was like!” with full conviction of telling the whole world what an awesome place this was. We’d just finished filming Stray Asia’s brand new tour from Ho Chi Minh City to Hanoi and were exhilarated by the beauty, madness and resilience of a country that had spent the last decades re-building its fascinating identity out of the rubbles of war. Then the phone call: “Hey, d’you guys fancy a project through Northern Thailand and down the Mekong through Laos to Cambodia?”. “We are a fan of rhetorical questions” replied team R&D, and *poof* appeared on our second flight of 2014.
Bangkok – one night here makes all sorts of things your oyster. We’ve been here countless times before but it’s baffling how you can discover new aspects of this crazy city all the time. We’re not talking new sites to ‘do’ (Bangkok can be seen as rather mundane in comparison to other tourist destinations), but how everyday life sprouts out at you from every corner. Street art and the trendy urbanite scene were our discoveries in April, cute family weekend markets and the embassy network in May. This time around we discovered the river and canal boat system as incredibly handy and thoroughly enjoyed hanging out in a park under Rhama 8 bridge, where groups of teenagers and families with small kids congregated at night to eat grilled quid, enjoy the river view, practice their skateboarding, drumming and acrobatic dance routines.
Starting in Bangkok, Thailand’s simplified reputation as a cheap, health & safety free and 3rd world charming backpacker’s stomping ground was to be challenged many a time throughout our trip. As we headed off with a group of Stray adventurers next morning to Thailand’s old capital and historical landmark Ayutthaya, we discussed the countries unique status as the only South East Asian country to have never been colonized by a European power, the strong presence of its university educated middle class, and its resulting hipster culture.
Ayutthaya was founded in 1350 by King U Thong (nope, we’re not making this stuff up) to escape a rather nasty smallpox outbreak just down the road, and lay the foundations for the royal courts Australian sandal making business. Declaring it Siam’s capital and the construction of some gigantic monasteries made the place a rather happening spot on the map, so by the year 1600 AD its 300,000 inhabitants (or 1 million inhabitants by 1700 AD if you believe the census manager Sober Bob) made it one of the largest cities in the world at the time.
Guided around by local Rita (who was awesome, and may or may not have once been a dude), we boarded a cooling river boat and visited several temples including Wat Chai Wattanaram (“fall down steep steps”), Wat Phra Chao Phananchoeng (“huge gold disapproving buddah”), Wat Phutthai Sawan (“Khmer mismatched tower”) and Wat Mahathat (“that one with head thing coming out of that tree”). Jokes aside, the temples were fantastic to view and showed off Ayutthaya’s incredible mix of historical cultural influences that were unfortunately all bashed to pieces by the Burmese army in 1767. Ruins of temples, monasteries and Thailand’s first church (pesky Portuguese building churches everywhere!) are now protected by UNESCO world heritage status. Beers and dinner lead to various bonding experiences, none of which was stronger than our overnight journey to Chiang Mai via sleeper train. We are constantly astounded at the ingenuity that goes into land travel outside Europe, and so new friends Lindsay, Sarah, Rebekka, RV, Saya, Sujan, Toto, Rat, Ped and Dragon emerged refreshed and giggling in Chiang Mai the next morning.
Mountain air and chilled out vibes greeted us in one of Trip Advisor’s 25 Best Destinations in the World (2014), not that we pay TA much attention, but we thought it would make our mates there proud. Founded in 1296 this city has had more time than others to develop an astonishing richness in architecture – especially of the surrounding temples, of which we visited two stunning examples. Wat Phrathat Doi Suthep (1383) is the most well known of Chiang Mai’s temples and offers panoramic views of the city whilst you snake past beautiful gold stupas and lots of colourfully clad tourists, monks, street vendors and workmen. Our especially arranged Thai guide explained the temple was built of a site that a white elephant carrying Buddha relics lay down to rest. Or may have outright died, no one was quite sure. Poor little Nelly.
Wat Pha Lat, (great instructions on this blog) on the same windy tuktuk ride through the hills, was a different story altogether. Built integrated within the forest, not despite it, we marvelled at the serene and stunningly beautiful carved stupas, statues, walkways and serpent staircases that melded into their natural surroundings. And by ‘we’ I mean just ‘we’ and some monks. No one else. We marvelled at the city view from the middle of a waterfall that, even in dry season, rushed with little streamlets of crystal clear mountain water and listened to the birds and bugs as they hovered around this piece of paradise. In fact, we shouldn’t be even telling you about it. It’s that special. Peer into the light at the top of my pen. We’re not the Men in Black. Who are they? There are of course many other temples to explore within the city limits, some of which date back to 1297. Yep, we’re going rather heavy on the dates here, but things are just so impressively old. As we said earlier, this ain’t no country of newly built bamboo beach huts and westernized cocktails.
A somewhat different experience awaited us later that afternoon, as we signed up to our first ever Thai boxing class. The teacher wasn’t as committed as he should have been, but one of the students (really cool girl with a half shaved head – spot her in the film!) picked up the pieces so we ended up having a good time. And as film makers, the golden hour light was to die for. What the class did do very well was put into context the actual fights we saw later that evening in the arena in town, and it was fantastic to see so many people engaging positively and respectfully in a sport that requires a huge amount of discipline.
For the templed out, Chiang Mai has a wide array of alternative activities to offer, one of the most famous being the Flight of the Gibbon zip-lining experience. And for good reason. With state of the art equipment and a world class guides, it was a fantastic way to see the jungle whilst flying through the canopy at the perfect height to grasp the immensity of the trees as well as the beautiful details of leaves, branches and flowers around us. That evening, we feasted our eyes on a stall after stall of useless but beautiful things at Chiang Mai’s Anusarn market (cue *giggles from our Rat & Rebekka*), some tourist tat, some really amazing jewellery, bags, clothes, scarves and knickknacks we would have happily paid a good price for at Westfields. The evening was rounded off by one of the most fun nights we’ve had out at a show: The Chiang Mai Cabaret Ladyboys. Bring tip money, it’s well deserved.
Our final stop before heading over the border to Laos was the white temple in Chiang Rai. You may or may not have heard of it – one of the most surreal and theatrical places, a huge sparkling macaroon of a temple that could have popped straight out of ‘The Never-ending Story’. Adorned with all sorts of references popular culture, it was crowded, kitsch and anything but serene, and we loved it. You can’t take pictures of the mural inside the main temple, you’re just going to have to see it for yourself.
And so we headed off to Laos, over one of the most relaxed border crossings in the world, and were rewarded with a tantalising glimpse of the mighty Mekong, on which we were to continue our journey floating down it the following morning. And what a journey it would be.
All, Inspire
World Travel Market came around way faster than we’d anticipated. As a newly formed company this was our first year in business, and we’d spent it making 24 films for different companies around the world. 19 countries, and the most time spent in one place: 3 weeks in Penang. We had hardly arrived in Sydney, and one of the biggest industry events on earth came knocking on our doorstep. So in a mad scramble we booked our tickets, moved the editing suite onto the nearest plane and shot off back to London. And weird it was, but that’s a different story.
WTM was a bustling hive of tourism industry activity. Multi-million pound deals, which had been simmering for months in preparation, were getting the final details bashed out and dotted lines signed. As with the Cannes Film Festival, most long-lasting networking was done between 1 and 3am, over wine/beer/sake/nondescript Brazilian hipster cocktail at a private party, where invitations and bouncers ensure that you only get to talk to people actually worth talking to. Whilst crashing these parties was way easier than we had found in Cannes, it was encouraging to learn that working in the movie industry surprisingly does supply you with some skills that come in useful in the real world. Many Bra-hipster creations were enjoyed, many contacts made.
Apart from meeting our current and potentially new clients, we found the blogging events particularly interesting, and not because they were all particularly good. Some speakers were obviously used to presenting, some less so, which in one case was unfortunately rather detrimental to the speaker’s point on the importance of audience engagement. What did shine through on most panels regarding content, was that the end consumer (read: you and me) was less and less impressed with a flashy high-end ad campaign and increasingly relying on reviews from ‘real’ travellers to make a decision on which holiday, hotel or tour to go for.
Authenticity is key, so there is a trend of giving bloggers free trips in return for a blog post, as long as their audience is big enough. Unfortunately what bloggers do was still widely misunderstood, so many of the panels centred around the topic of authenticity being damaged by restrictions on creative freedom. The argument goes that bloggers earn the trust of their following through being unbiased, so if a brand dictates what to write, authenticity (= trust) is dissolved, which damages the blogger and makes the post useless to the brand. Many bloggers interviewed explained that companies had approached them hoping for an ad without having to pay industry rates, thereby completely discounting the real work involved in creating a trusting audience, and what real value this audience holds for the blogger.
If you want an ad you can direct, get an agency. If you want a brutally honest review you have no say over, but goes to a genuinely engaged audience, get a blogger. How much money do you have? How much risk are you willing to take?
Tying in with this, what was interesting to us was that audiences seemed to want to know that videos they are watching are a ‘real’ representation of what they can expect. That brands are true to their products. If you’re running a booze cruise, don’t pretend it’s all cultural and spiritual. If you’re running a historical commentary on Hindu temples, don’t pretend it’s a great kid’s activity (unless it’s designed for kids). If you want to engage professionals for your marketing, work with creatives because they are just that: creative. They come up with ideas that you may not have come up with, see your product and audiences in new light, and in context of what everyone else is shouting about. And take the authenticity card into account.
As a production company, we have discussed a lot about our shooting style and our identity as a creative developer. Where do we see ourselves in this ever-expanding mass of content? Who is our audience? What standards of quality do we expect from ourselves? Where is the tipping point? When does cinematography become so stylised, that video turns into a movie, that reality becomes illusion and you become just some model? When do you lose track of authentic communication?
Fulfilling commercial objectives and maintaining integrity aren’t mutually exclusive though. We stand by everything we produce, and re-capping our work with peers, bloggers, agencies and our clients at World Travel market has confirmed we’re spot on. We have found we can speak with most conviction of places we have liked, film stories we would want to watch ourselves, in which we recognize ourselves, and our audiences recognize themselves.
We write because we are interested in what we’re writing. We photograph what we see and find intriguing. We share what we would like to see ourselves.
And we think this is about as authentic as you can be.
All, Inspire
40,000km across the face of this earth. Back in the day, it was people like Chris Columbus, Capn’ Cook and Dave Attenborough ‘in search of guano’ that did this sort of stuff and it often meant year-long sabbaticals from the village blacksmith business. Now every Tamsin, Didier and Hamad can set off after a quick trip to North Face and plunge into this world to party on a far away beach covered in UV paint whilst uploading everything to faceplant.
London to Sydney overland is nevertheless a rather epic feat, but whilst smart phones and selfie-poles were at every corner of the globe we visited, the real modern interconnectedness of this world hit us smack bang in the face like a wet herring as we sat in our Qantas seats, watching Guardians of the Galaxy in widescreen, on our way back to the starting point of this epic quest, only minutes after we’d actually arrived at the finishing line.
Sitting in a giant toothpaste tube for 21 hours and miraculously appearing where we’d left off 9 months earlier was a real shock to the system. On the Piccadilly line to Cockfosters (“…yep. Cockfosters.”), we debated whether we’d just dreamt up this entire world, the last year and all the trials and trepidations (and Typhoid) that came with it.
The ‘psychology of returning home’ has been widely studied, whether it be travellers, overseas workers or soldiers that come back to alienation in familiarity. Just like Tom and Jerry, who leave little cut-out Tom and Jerry shapes in doors they smash through, you leave a little cookie-cutter hole in your familiar surroundings when you head off for Edinburgh, Sao Paulo or Taiwan.
You have an awesome time, meet lots of new people with lots of new perspectives on life, ingest things you’d never dream of touching in your 1st world health & safety surroundings and are forced into alternate lifestyles where busses are routinely 4 hours late, cows go berserk in the middle of highways and you can’t read any of the multi-coloured squiggly signage.
Travel broadens the mind, you diversify and expand – it’s a well known phenomenon. Returning home often means your new shape doesn’t fit the old hole – you just love the feeling of that painted surfboard necklace under your shirt and tie, you bend conversations to slip in the ‘correct’ pronunciation of ‘Pinot Grigio’ and you stockpile Mie Goreng from your local pan-Asian supermarket.
Positive or negative deep-impact experiences, such as the ones some of us travellers and many soldiers face abroad, can alter a person’s psyche so much that returning home and continuing as normal becomes impossible. For an example, you only need to watch “The Hurt Locker”, “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” or even (especially for Kiwis) “The Hobbit”.
Your new identity has finally caught up with you and is going nuts building little dream catchers and Tibetan prayer flags into your suburban safety net. All seems hunky-dory until you realize that you loved Texas and it’s big burgers, easy, welcoming spirit and tailgating in massive pickup trucks. And this is in no way compatible to your spiritual Balinese quinoa-fuelled yoga retreat. You never knew you could get to deeply love two completely opposing mindsets, what do you do now?
As we sauntered around World Travel Market with our business caps on, meeting up with existing clients, chatting to potential new ones and branching out to interesting bloggers, production companies and tourism boards, we found ourselves submerged in an entirely new level of ‘returning home’ as we walked past miniature versions of the 19 countries we’d spent significant time and formed memories in over the last year.
Stunning Siberia threatened to clash with amazing Japan. “They have no sense of personal space” cried our Russian friends about our Chinese friends. “They never smile” cried our Vietnamese friends about our Russian friends. “They will rip you off” cried our Japanese friends about our Vietnamese friends. “They have giant killer Robots!” cried our German friends about our Japanese friends. All inside our heads, as we walked through one of the biggest travel industry events in the world.
Surrounded by representations of all our wonderful friends, with all their unique, amazing and sometimes incompatible lifestyles we were able to take part in, and who had shaped us into our crazy cut-outs we were when we returned to London. At Rat & Dragon’s 10-year anniversary party, when everyone who has been part of the journey meets in one place, we have no doubt that curiosity on a human level will overcome any cultural differences.
But for the moment, in our familiar environment, in our expanded new shapes, we can let our different cultural influences stay exactly that: different. It’s an interesting exercise in low-level cultural schizophrenia, but it will allow us to stay fluid rather than set in an amalgamated, consolidated mindset.
