Paris can be a real budget buster; however, on a Eurasia adventure like this, we decided that we just couldn’t afford to miss it. But with minimal hostels costing 22 Euros/night/bed, what is the best way to explore The City of Lights on the cheap?

Here are five solid tips to help you get the most out of Europe’s most romantic city:

1)      Go on a Free Walking Tour!

Did I say FREE? You betcha. One of the best kept secrets in major European cities is the plethora of free walking tours. These companies give a free leisurely walking tour of the city which usually lasts 2-2½ hours and is lead by enthusiastic and knowledgeable expats (usually art or political students studying abroad.) These fantastic tours are offered in multiple languages and are tip supported.

Free walking tours are a great way to get an overall feel for the city, learn some history, local legends, and plan your next move.

We love Sandeman’s New Europe tour company: http://www.neweuropetours.eu/

2)      Grab a tapas dinner from a French supermarché.

Eating out is expensive in any country, but French menu prices will almost make you faint. A great way to sidestep this (if you don’t have access to a kitchen) is by planning a romantic picnic fit for a hotel room or park location.

Grab a baguette, some soft cheese spread, some whole veggies, and a couple bottles of wine from your local grocery. Bonus points if you also grab a sweet pastry from that fantastic bakery you’ve been eyeing, and pair your picnic plans with a free outdoor summer concert or street performer.

3)      Walk.

It’s no secret that Parisians know how to dress, but you’ll be much happier if you trade in those peep-toe pumps for some sound walking shoes.

Plan your visit to Parisian attractions in a cohesive line by starting at the Cathedral Notre Dam (free admission) and strolling along to the Arc de Triomphe (free admission at street level.) This route will take a couple of hours at a leisurely pace and is riddled picturesque park benches. Even though you will walk through the Louvre courtyard, make sure you save your admission to the museum for later.

If you still have some energy left and desire to get up close and personal with Le Tour Eiffel, consider taking the stairs to the second level before riding the lift to the top. Taking the stairs was one of our favorite experiences in Paris, as we were the only people on them and had the tower to ourselves. For the under 25 crowd, taking the stairs will save $3/pp, for adults over 25, the stairs will shave $2/pp off admission.

4)      Strategically plan your trip to the Louvre.

Admission to the Louvre museum is 11 Euros for the permanent collection and 15 Euros for access to permanent and temporary collections. Since most patrons want to only see a few big names like ‘The Mona Lisa’, ‘Winged Victory’, and ‘Venus de Milo’, it’s great to know that the Louvre offers free admission on the first Sunday of each month and on July 14. If you can’t wait around for the beginning of next month, try and plan your visit on a Wednesday or Friday. Even though you’ll pay full price, you’ll get more bang for your buck by being able to take advantage of extended hours – allowing you to soak in the majesty of Napoleon’s private art collection until 9:45pm.

5)      Enjoy a free panoramic view of Paris from Sacre Coeur.

Sacre Coeur – The Basilica of the Sacred Hearts – is built on the tallest point within Paris, and is the crowning jewel of Montmartre, the funky artist’s district. On your way to Sacre Coeur, take some time to explore the small medieval winding streets of this district. These treasures are something of a rarity in Paris, which is known for its wide and sprawling boulevards.

At the top of the hill sits the Basilica, dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and credited with stopping the Bubonic plague. The Basilica offers free sprawling views of Paris’ skyline, showcasing some of her most prized monuments. Entrance to the Basilica is free.

“In a car you’re always in a compartment, and because you’re used to it you don’t realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You’re a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame. On a cycle the frame is gone. You’re completely in contact with it all. You’re in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming.” –Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

Europe is a vacation. Asia is an experience. In all the ways we saw Europe, we experienced Asia. Traveling in Asia requires active involvement and adaptation. I’ve noticed through our encounters with people that the difference between travelers who have an okay time and travelers who have an awesome time lies in how much they embrace being actively engaged by their surroundings. And you can’t get much more actively engaged than riding a motorbike through Thailand. Believe that.

Throughout southeast Asia, motorbikes are the transportation of choice. It is easy to see why. Bikes are maneuverable and fuel efficient. Also, there aren’t any options like trains and hopefully, dear reader, you are starting to understand our aversion to busses. So a motorbike through northern Thailand it was.

We were told over and over again that the best way to experience South East Asia is by seeing rural Asia, and that the only way to experience rural Asia was on motorbike – enter “The Loop.”

“The Loop” is a backpacker pipedream called Route 108 that many attempt, but few finish. Located in northwest Thailand, this epic stretch of mountain road requires three days of driving, carefully timed fuel pit stops, a knack for non-verbal communication, and sunscreen…lots and lots of sunscreen. The Thumbtackers just couldn’t stay away.

After a few weeks of toying with the idea of riding a motorbike across rural Asia, we carefully weighed the pros and cons of the journey. We met several backpackers who had said ‘The Loop is the trip of a lifetime, you will not regret it!’ When we asked which section was their favorite, everyone had admitted to only completing the northeastern segment and then resigning…usually due to accidents of one kind or another, or poor road conditions. We were nervous.

It’s true that Stephen has his motorcycle license in Florida, though he’s never ridden a bike outside of the driving class. And technically I’ve driven a tandem scooter around Bermuda before, but we usually don’t talk about the horrors of that adventure. Add to all this, that Thais drive on the left, the impending threat of rain (rainforest), and the fact that our map legend included only waterfalls and known hospitals, and we were in for one heck of an adventure.

In our defense, it’s hard to resist the draw of the Thai motorbike. Thailand is one of the few countries we visited where rental companies do not require an international motorcycle license and it’s cheaper to rent a bike on this loop than any other we found; only $3.00/day. For an additional $1.25 bikers can purchase full accident insurance, removing liability when if they crash, and a full day’s petrol cost is only $2.00 – what’s not to love?

So we packed three day’s worth of clothes, a bathing suit (for that rogue waterfall), and purchased four day’s worth of accident insurance. It was going to be one heck of a ride.

2:37 AM

Before we really knew what was going on, the driver was gone and and we were bombarded with sleazy tuk-tuk drivers. Everyone who purchased a ticket to Siem Reap was still on the bus, and one by one we filed off. The bus had been abandoned, and we were left with a small group of tuk-tuk drivers who were offering rides (10km) into Phnom Penh to a guest house for $25. That amount of money in Cambodia is roughly enough to start a space exploration program and buy a Bugatti dealership. This was a huge scam.

We were left with two options:

1. Take the tuk-tuk to what was sure to be the most expensive guesthouse in town and purchase new tickets to Siem Reap in the morning, or
2. Stay on the bus and be as obnoxious as possible until we were delivered to Siem Reap.

For us, it was an easy call. We decided as a group of ten to grab our bags from the undercarriage and stake out camp on the bus – we were here for the night. Remember J? He set off on foot to find the police. Our number one goal was to keep the bus personnel from locking the bus or driving away, so we took shifts sitting inside the sweltering, mosquito-ridden bus.

2:53 AM

We knew there would be one schmuck who worked for the bus company and would have to make sure we didn’t torch the unlocked bus after the drivers ran off; we just didn’t know which schmucks were tuk-tuk and which worked for the bus company. The tuk-tuk drivers thought they had guaranteed clientele and (ironically) there were exactly the right amount of tuk-tuks to take all of us to town. Things were starting to click between us as we realized we had officially entered SCAMbodia.

The tuk-tuk drivers thought it would only be a matter of time until we caved and had to go to town. So they waited and giggled like Chinese girls in a Angry Birds store. One of them pretended to beg for money with his shoe in his hand. Another played Jay-Z on his phone while dancing around all of us. We told them that we were going to find the police; they laughed.

“Phom Phen doesn’t have police at night,” one of the tuk-heads laughed at us. We weren’t buying it and soon heard the sound of a lone motorbike engine cutting through the night.

“Whooo!!! I told you I’d be back!” It was J and he was riding on the back of a police motorbike. A wave of relief washed over us as we finally knew the situation would be over and we could maybe even find food and water…

“…Wait! Where are you going? You have to talk to the others and write a police report…” J’s voice was trailing into the night after the motorbike cop. We couldn’t believe it, but as soon as J hopped off the back of his bike, the cop promptly turned heel and raced into the night at the sight of the tuk-tuk drivers.

I guess Phom Phen doesn’t have cops at night after-all…

3:17-ish AM

The tuk-tuk drivers were blaring Jay-Z rap music out of a cell phone and dancing all around us – just waiting for us to call it a night. They thought (and with good reason) that after the lack of initiative from ‘Phom Phen’s Finest’ we would throw in the towel and cough up some change, but we hadn’t come this far to get ripped off. We instead opted to make the best of the situation when someone noticed the liquid-bribe that the tuk-tuk drivers gave to the bus company.

“Well at least one good thing is going to come out of tonight, free beer!! Cheers everyone!” We cracked ten beers out of the case and began to celebrate our small victory on the bus when suddenly the Jay-Z music came to a halt and a commotion commenced outside.

“That not your beer! That my beer!” The lead driver began to scream. The Bolivian reasoned with him, “Then why is your beer on our bus? You have a tuk-tuk, I wouldn’t put my beer on your tuk-tuk.” Even this smelled like a scam.

“You drink ten beers. You pay me ten dollars, one beer one dollar.” Admittedly the Cambodian was beginning to get a little out of hand.

J, who was blocking the bus door and separating our group from the tuk-heads flatly told the guy that each beer was worth no more than $.50 and we would be willing to pay him $.50 for each beer.

“You pay me my beer I fight you.” The driver threw a threat – it just got real.

Like a seasoned professional J yelled out “Grab me a camera, quick! He won’t fight an American citizen on camera.”

A camera appeared from the back of the bus and J had it recording just when the driver returned from his tuk-tuk with a large bamboo stick. He was swinging the bamboo stick like baseball bat and screaming “you pay me my beer, I fight you.”

J, cool as a cucumber, politely told the Cambodian that he had a camera rolling and would take the film to the tourist police office. I honestly could not believe what happened next. This crazy tuk-tuk driver started swinging the stick violently around at nothing in particular as he closed the gap between himself and J. Finally, he connected with J’s knee.

“You have just assaulted an American citizen on film; I’m going to assault you back,” J stepped down as he showed the driver the screen on the camera.

The tuk-tuk driver realized he was outnumbered and the situation was deteriorating. He ran back to his vehicle and headed out as fast as it would go—roughly 30 miles per hour. We assumed he was heading out to go get all of the tuk-tuk mafia and we would surely be dead by morning. But he never came back.

We stayed up all night. Several locals came by to act suspicious and stare us down, but there were no other incidents.

4:10 AM

The first signs of life started in the outskirts of Phnom Phen came in the form of two guys selling sugarcane out of a cart. Ordinarily, I don’t think any of us would have eaten such a thing, but this was the first food we had seen in some time, so we ate raw sugarcane and waited for sunrise.

4:55 AM

J was bored. The custodian of the bus had fallen asleep in the back seats of the bus with a blanket. He may have been able to get a few hours sleep with any other group, but not this one. J approached.

“Excuse me, I was wondering when you were planning on leaving,” J said to the sleeping body. No response.

“Hey! I’m talking to you. When are we leaving?” He was getting louder now. Still no response. He kicked the seat and repeated the question. The Cambodian mumbled at him as he pulled the blanket over his face. J took this as a disrespectful gesture and removed it forcibly before stuffing a flashlight in the man’s face and screaming at him.

“HEY! I HAVE ASKED YOU A QUSTION, BOY! YOU WILL NOW GIVE ME AN ANSWER. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN SIEM REAP YESTERDAY, BUT YOU’RE CLEARLY SLEEPING, SO WE HAVE TO GO TODAY. ALL I NEED TO KNOW IS WHEN YOU WANT TO LEAVE. IT’S FIVE AND I’M READY TO GO NOW; ARE YOU?”

The driver looked around like he genuinely believed the world to be ending. He said something in Cambodian.

“SPEAK ENGLISH SON! DO YOU WANT TO LEAVE NOW? NO? HOW ABOUT SIX? SEVEN? EIGHT? OKAY. Thanks, I’ll let the other’s know; enjoy the remainder of your night.”

J turned and politely informed us that the bus was now scheduled to leave around eight and the driver regretted the inconvenience. He then calmly walked out of the bus and smoked a cigarette.

6:00 AM (and not a second later)

The driver woke up and started the bus. We all slept for two hours once the bus was moving. I tried to stay awake, but it just wasn’t happening. The energy from the sugarcane had warn off. We thought we were in the clear, but we weren’t quite to Siem Reap yet.

8:07 AM

We stopped at in a dirt parking lot with an overgrown which sold produce. Our driver was gone and a new one had replace him. We were not in a touristy part of Cambodia. On the menu here was pineapple, coconut, a couple varieties of questionable friend balls, tarantulas, and locusts. Breakfast anyone? The driver told us to get out. We were in no mood for this.

To be fair, the new driver didn’t really know what he was in for. It was a matter of bad luck, but he was about to realize that he should have called in sick. We refused to get off the bus.

8:18 AM

The driver had called the well-trained ape who was in charge of the bussing operation and found a solution: a new bus would pick us up next to the tarantula stand in one hour. I have never had six people yell at me in a language I barely speak before, but this driver was honestly trying to help despite the fact the he was receiving no mercy from any of us. He asked us to remove ourselves and our bags; we declined.

9:05 AM

Catherine and I went to get a pineapple. The sun was rising and it was hot in Cambodia. No one had taken a shower or slept since this time yesterday, when we started our little adventure. An hour went by.

10:02 AM

A bus pulled into the parking lot. We started gathering our bags to get on only to have our bus driver tell us it was the wrong bus. He told us it would be 30 minutes.

11:05 AM

Another bus pulled into the parking lot. We started gathering our bags only to have our bus driver tell us that it was going to Siem Reap, but it was full. There would be another one in an hour. Anna, an Aussie girl who had been pretty tolerant up to this point, completely lost it. She started screaming at our bus driver, then the one on the full bus. [Being as that lady driver on the full bus had absolutely zero prior knowledge, this took her by some surprise.] Anna, who was crying hysterically, took it upon herself to commandeer the full bus by planting herself firmly in the driver’s seat where she sat crying and repeating “Siem Reap now” as she rocked back and forth. She was in orbit.

11:09 AM

We realize that the driver of the bus Anna is trying to carjack actually speaks very good English is and sympathetic to our plight. She called whoever they have working at the office; I don’t know what she said, but the situation was resolved in a timely and organized fashion. Another bus arrived as she was pulling out. The driver of the new bus forced everyone out, loaded our luggage, gave us seats together in the back, and proceeded to seat pre-existing passengers on two-by-fours he set across the aisle to create extra seats. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. Anna fell asleep.

4:39 PM

We finally arrived in Siem Reap and promptly checked into a hotel with A/C, hot water, and a pool. The whole ordeal took a little over 32 hours to get from Si Phan Don to Siem Reap. These two cities are less than 200 miles away from one another.

Afterword:

We caught up with J later in Siem Reap. He was hanging out with his local friend, a tuk-tuk driver who introduced himself as (I’m not kidding) Mr. T. No, he didn’t look at all like the famous one; the name is just a coincidence. Upon hearing about this bus ride and seeing the assault video, Mr. T has laid plans to move to Phnom Phen, infiltrate the tuk-tuk gang, and befriend J’s assailant before killing him and throwing his body in the Mekong River.

We couldn’t wait to get to Thailand.

The warning signs were everywhere and we prepared the best we could, but there’s only so much damage control one can perform.

Virtually everyone gets scammed on the border of Cambodia; it’s pretty common. The police will demand a bribe for visas, medical examiners will demand a bribe to keep you out of quarantine, and fake guards will remove valid visas making it appear as though tourists illegally entered Laos. What should be a $20 visa and an $8 bus ride which takes 12 hours has left every traveler we’ve met with a different horror story; no one has topped this one.

Angkor Wat at Sunrise

The only real reason to go to Cambodia is to see the magnificent remains to Angkor Wat, the largest religious complex in the world. This complex is located outside the city of Siem Reap, a fair sized town which is sponsored almost entirely by travelers willing to make the pilgrimage. Or story begins in Si Phan Don (4000 islands), Laos.

“All inclusive VIP bus ride Si Phan Don to Siem Reap: $35.”

We were sold. After hearing the stories of travelers making their way North with 19 hour bus trips involving thee bus changes, the VIP option seemed like an easy choice. In brief, we would ferry back to the mainland from our island at 8AM, exchange some Laotian money, board a bus to the border (10 minutes) at 9 o’clock sharp, purchase a visa, get a stamp, and ride the remaining 10 hours to Siem Reap.

At 8AM there was no boat. Then there were two, but the drivers (who knew we didn’t want to miss the bus) wouldn’t drive without being paid. We talked our way out and left by 8:30, so far so good.

Once on the other side, Cat went to work with visa associated paperwork and I went looking for the least corrupt person I could find to purchase some US Dollars. Why USD and not Cambodian money, you ask?

Cambodia is too unstable and corrupt to manage even a small money supply in any semi-stable way. Banks offer upwards of 10% interest on 12-month CDs because the currency is so volatile. Every business prefers to be paid in Thai Bat or United States Dollars.

To avoid any potential headaches at the border, Catherine made the decision to use a bookie at the bus station. It was very obvious that he had friends at the office and for a ridiculous price I won’t write down, he insured we would receive our Passports with valid papers. This means you enter Cambodia without any identification. At this point, it was nearly 10 o’clock and there was no bus.

Ten thirty rolled around and a bus appeared. VIP in Asia usually means that the bus will have an air conditioning system. In this case it blew hot air around which was nice because the windows wouldn’t open. By eleven we were rolling towards the border.

The bookie gave us instructions to get off the bus with our bags and walk across the border. On the other side, he insured he would return our passports and we would be instructed on what bus to get on based on our ticket. That’s right, with no identification of any kind, you walk across the street into Cambodia with your own bag of whatever you want. In China, it takes ten minutes to run the passport number, visa number, void the visa, and x-ray your bag. The agent asks you weird questions concerning what animals and plants you saw, where you came from, where you are going, and the frequency and condition of your bowl movements in the last 24 hours. On the other hand, anybody with a little bribe money can dance across the border into Cambodia with a big bag of heroin and machine guns. It was the easiest physical border crossing of the trip.

The “health guard” shot me in the arm with a thermometer gun and informed me that she wanted a dollar for offering this service.

“What? What’s my temperature?” I asked.

“Thirty-six point one.”

“I’m not paying you.” I walked away.

There were a lot of people selling chips, Pepsi, rice, and whatnot for the benefit of travelers about to board long term busses. I had not eaten breakfast, so it was here where we purchased the only thing Cat and I would eat for the next 24 hours: one can of Pringles (for me) and one sleeve of Oreos (for Cat).

The bookie brought the passports back and began distributing them and directing us to different busses. It was nearly one o’clock by now, so I figured we would arrive by eleven. The bus had A/C which was slightly more functional than the last bus, and we were off. All was smooth until the backup driver started checking tickets. Ours were fine, but a gentlemen two rows back was not so fortunate.

“This is a ticket to the border, not to Siem Reap,” the driver said, “you need to purchase ticket for this bus.”

“Well that’s weird because the man driving this bus told me to get on this bus when he looked at this ticket.” His tone indicated that he was not going to tolerate any shenanigans.

“A ticket is $35 dollars to Siem Reap.”

“Well, I already purchased a $10 ticket, and a bus ticket to Siem Reap is only $8, I’ve lived in Siem Reap for two months now and I’ve made this trip three times.” He was insistent.

“This bus costs $35, you have to purchase a ticket to ride this bus.”

“I’ll give you $25, I already bought the $10 one; your bus is a rip off. It’s a big scam.”

“It’s $35 or you will have to get off at the next stop.” The driver was starting to show some irritation.

The passenger responded, “whatever you want, boss.”

The bus driver was getting nowhere, “A ticket to the next stop is $20.”

“Well, you better pull the bus on over and I’ll go ahead and walk. I don’t let people rip me off, and I’ll tell the tourist police that you threw me out on the side of the road when I get to Siem Reap. Hold still while I take your picture now, I want them to know who did it.” He stuffed his camera in the driver’s face.

“Are you an American?” Inquired the bus driver.

“That has nothing to do with this, stop the bus; hoofin’ it don’t bother me a bit.”

The bus stopped.

The driver and the man got off. The driver was in an odd position because the man (we later learned his name was J) could take any bag he wanted, even if it didn’t belong to him. The driver caved, and J was allowed back to his seat with the parting comment: “good negotiation.”

No other tickets were checked. J refused to pay because his wallet was stollen and offered to pay upon arrival. Someone loaned him $15 to cover the difference. The ride was quiet for hours and the most notable feature of the landscape was the absolute lack of everything. One dirt road, some rice, a few huts, and absolutely nothing else. I ate Pringles and listened to my ipod. We stopped frequently to let the driver urinate on the side of the road, other than that, we proceeded normally. We were late, but I was still optimistic at this point that we would make it to our destination that evening.

Broken down…again

Then the bus broke down. The driver turned it off and we parked on the road. Do you mean the side of the road, you ask? Nah, the driver just stopped and turned it off. Then there was no A/C at all. We had to get out. This is how we met J, and learned that he is from North Carolina. We also met an Aussie couple, Simon and Anna. Also, there was a Bolivian present. We were supposed to catch a connecting bus somewhere at 2:30 and it was 3:00 when we stopped. The bus was stopped for two hours while a greasy guy crawled underneath it and did something. A guy on a motorbike with a cooler tied to the back came to sell water and the worst imitation Red Bull I have ever heard of.

After two and a half hours, we were directed to get back on the bus; it started moving. Things again went smoothly for about 20 minutes until we had to stop for dinner. These busses get free food and kick backs for stopping at different places; they always stop. This time, the drivers got off, ate dinner, and took showers. We stayed on the bus.

We were rolling again as the sun set. I figured at this point that we would burn through the night and arrive at Siem Reap in the morning. I was lamenting that I would not have a sleeper bus around two o’clock AM when the bus stopped and the driver announced our location, “Phnom Penh.” A man threw a box of beer on the bus. Many people exited; we stayed on because it was not our stop. We weren’t at a bus station, we were just on a street somewhere when suddenly the bus driver disappeared…

TO BE CONTINUED

Three dollars doesn’t go quite as far as it used to go; today it won’t even buy you a meal at McDonalds, a gallon of gas, or a magazine when it used to buy all three. But there is still one place The Thumbtackers have discovered where your dollar goes a lot further than it does back home: Si Phan Don, Laos. Si Phan Don is a veritable backpacker paradise at the Laos-Cambodian boarder known as “Four Thousand Islands” (with not much to do except to find yourself a hammock and good book.)

Mekong Sunrise

The Islands, situated on the Mekong River, only recently got electricity which has brought fans (halleluiah) but no a/c (…yet). But if you can tough it out beneath a mosquito net for a few nights, here is a sneak peak of what you can do with $3 in Si Phan Don:

- Get a river front private cabana for two, complete with front porch and hammocks in the shade (animal noises from the farm next door are a free added bonus)

- Rent two bicycles for the day to cruise between the islands via old French colonial transport bridges. You can ride around to see the hidden waterfalls, beaches, and local life that is just plain inaccessible on foot.

Riverfront Cabana

- Get yourself a meal! Like all places in South East Asia, “Western food” is considerably more expensive than the local fare so you’ll have to choose between (a) one cheeseburger or (b) fried rice with mixed vegetables, spring rolls, and a local fruit smoothie. We’d suggest you opt for the ladder but can totally relate if you’ve just got the craving for a taste from back home. Just be aware French influence means hamburgers come on baguettes and the cheese is typically goat cheese – don’t say we didn’t warn you.

- Buy a book! Plenty of great (and new) titles have been abandoned by travelers and since a majority of the locals can’t read English (or French or Swedish) all titles are exactly $3 regardless of demand or condition. Hint: swap your old read with a local book seller and you’ll get half price. 

Tuk-tuk

Quite literally the only way to travel a majority of remote Laos is via tuk-tuk, an odd mis-matched type of contraption that the Thumbtackers have grown to love over the last two weeks. You have to picture a motorbike or pick-up truck that has been outfitted in a practical way to conjoin the idea of a taxi with a hay bail wagon ride. The carriage of the tuk-tuk is modeled after the bed of a pick-up truck, and has such luxuries as padded benches down the sides, a cover [for sun protection], and optional rain flaps (only available on some models.) Bags, packages, and domesticated animals can be tied to the top or the fender, and you will probably have to help hold someone’s daily delivery of cabbages in your lap when traveling on long rides.

Typically, tuk-tuks charge between $1-$2/hour of driving and always know where the best lookout points and free bathrooms are along the way. Though slower than other conventional modes of transportation, you can’t beat the price or the memory of a 5 hour tuk-tuk ride through the jungles of Laos.

Laotian tuk-tuks dare to go where no buses go, so you can bet the ride will be windy and bumpy – but you just can’t beat that ‘wind in your hair feeling’.

For your next trip to Laos, take it from us and go for the tuk-tuk because you will honestly have no other option.

“I don’t want to beat him,” Fred said as he looked at me. This was going to turn into a fight. 

How hard is it to get a ride to the bus station in this town?

Let me back up.

We were traveling with a group at this point; a Swiss couple, Fred and Viola, and a Spanish girl, Vet. We were all trying to get from the rice village where we had been staying to the bus station. It was a 25 kilometer ride and we flagged a taxi with no trouble. The taxi was already full, but we piled in anyways. There were nine passengers including the five of us; the fare was $8 for the five of us. Please remember that this entire story takes place around a dispute over $8. We had one hour before the bus was scheduled to leave.

In all truth, there is only one real road through the rice terraces, so local passengers got on and off throughout the ride. We stopped half way to the town and the driver suggested we get out. We were at a ticket booth of some sort with people peddling rubbish and bogus “village entry” tickets. This was a DCT if I have ever seen such. We showed him the bus tickets and again told him (in Mandarin, no less) we wanted to go to the bus station. He said something to the local lady in the passenger seat, she laughed. The locals in this part of China don’t speak Mandarin Chinese, they speak a local language. I was confused, but these things happen when traveling in Asia. The taxi moved ahead. We had 40 minutes before the bus left at this point.

When we got to the city originally, we arrived in the town after dark, so we couldn’t recognize the surroundings on our exodus. The cab on the way out to the village broke down and we all had to push it; that’s another story. Rice paddies make for really poor landmarks, but we were approaching a village. We stopped again and were asked to get out; but we still weren’t at the bus station. The case was forming in my head: this driver was either extremely incompetent (there’s only one road here, lest we forget, and this man presumably drives up and down it for a living) or he had no intention of taking us to the bus stop. He was either unable or unwilling to get us to the bus stop; that or he was intentionally trying to irritate me. The co-pilot continued to cackle. At this point I was actively engaged, but not yet nervous. I could see the village as we passed the gas station where the aforementioned taxi had broken down. We had 20 minutes remaining before the bus was scheduled to leave the station.

It was not until we went whizzing past the bus station in the main village that we really became concerned. With German, Spanish, English, and Mandarin, we were able to say “stop here” in four languages and each was ignored by the cackling co-pilot and the driver who was accelerating. He responded by shouting something and waving his hand in our faces. This was becoming a problem. Fifteen minutes remained until scheduled departure.

I would estimate we traveled one half of a mile past the bus station before we pulled into a hotel parking lot. I was fairly sure we were being kidnapped and would be sold into slavery to work in the rice paddies. Incompetence and unwillingness were joined by a third explanation for this cabby: we had stumbled upon a verifiable crazy person. He kept talking to the co-pilot as we told him in vain that he had missed the bus station and our time was fleeting. Viola opened the passenger door; I opened the other. It happened fast, and I didn’t know exactly what was going on, but Viola and I wanted no part of any further crazy cabbie services. Thirteen minutes.

Upon realizing that we were evacuating whether he stopped or not, he brought the minivan to a halt near an alley next to the hotel. I opened the hatch back and retrieved my bag. Viola was next to me and Cat had hers. We had maybe twelve minutes to walk one half mile to the bus station; I was off.

In a puzzling turn of events, Catherine stayed to negotiate a return trip to the bus station.

“Hey! He say’s he will take us back to the bus station!” Catherine yelled.

I hated that idea and was more than confused about why anyone in our party would consider that option.

“I’m not getting in a car with him; he’s crazy,” I yelled back.

Viola and Vet agreed and we distanced ourselves from the taxi and its crazy driver. He was yelling at this point, and the co-pilot had stopped cackling. I noticed the crazy driver was becoming a bit more physical with Frederick and Catherine as they proceeded to leave. I started back towards the taxi. Locals were noticing the scuffle. Eleven minutes remained.

The taxi driver was grabbing people and bags at this point. I was less than appreciative. China is so crowded that personal space is a luxury which virtually no one has, but this was pretty aggressive even for a Chinese person. By the time we all reconverted to the same spot this mentally unstable taxi driver was grabbing bags, appendages, and articles of clothing as his bloodshot eyes pinched to slits and he screamed at us. He was having himself a full-on hissy fit over $1.60/ person in the formerly peaceful, rural little street of Yuanyang. And I was starting to notice that he was targeting the women of the group. What a guy! The temper tantrum was fine with me; he could yell and scream all he wanted, but the grabbing people was going to stop. Catherine writhed away from him and pried his hand off of Vet’s backpack. I stepped in front of him.

“Hey! If you touch her again, I’m going to kick your ass.”

I typically strive to avoid swearing at locals loudly in the streets of foreign countries—especially when I know they don’t understand what I am saying. He was a bit rusty with the English, but he was starting to get the picture. I had no intention of paying him for a task at which he had failed so miserably. If I wanted to walk to the bus station and arrive late, I would not have hired a taxi. I would think on the first day of How to Drive a Cab 101, the teacher would mention how imperative it is to stop the car when everyone screams at you to stop the car. Whatever, I don’t know anything about driving a cab; all I knew was that I would be the new barrier between him and Catherine.

He decided to plead his case with Fred. Unbeknownst to the cabby, Fred had no money because we were miles from the closest working ATM. The driver cornered him and held him back by the arm. Fred, who is 6’3” German looking fellow, looked straight over the head of the driver and said, “Stephen, we need to pay him something and I don’t have any money. Do you have any money?”

“I don’t want to beat him.”

Extortion is defined as: “The practice of obtaining something, especially money, through force or threats.” For whatever reason, this cab driver did not take us to the train station and we were forced to get out of the cab whilst it was still rolling to avoid whatever destination he had in mind. By all reasonable logic, we owed this deranged man nothing. Several people had been observing the scuffle, however, and we had a bus to catch. In the interest of avoiding further headaches, I paid him for three of the five fares. This was all I had without trusting him to make change. Vet paid the rest. We made it to the bus station with a couple minutes to spare.

On a side note, most travelers we have met can tell at least one story of an unfavorable taxi experience. From fake meters, to destination renegotiations, lengthy reroutes, and charging bribes to retrieve luggage from a locked trunk, there is truly no telling ahead of time how situations will end.

I am still lamenting the waste of $8, but I’m glad we avoided an all out brawl in the streets of rural China.

China’s three principle teachings (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism) have been a major part of Chinese culture and tradition since ancient times, but are they a set of religions or philosophies? This very question has been debated throughout modern history, especially since the PRC is officially atheist; attributing religion as a symbol of feudalism and foreign colonialism. However, estimates put a number of around 550 million followers to various faiths in China.

We intend to visit a religious complex of each faith to find out more and weigh in on the religion/philosophy debate.

“The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao.”

Taoism is a Chinese philosophy/religion that is based on living in harmony with The Tao (or “The Way”). The Tao is seen as both the source and the life-force behind everything that exists; a very abstract idea for virgin-Western ears.

Taoists rely on their own personal experiences and the texts of the Tao Te Ching to build a philosophical foundation for Taoism. Taoism is more of an individualistic practice, though institutionalized versions exist and seem to take on a more religious form of the practice and include prayer to gods.

Dingyue Prayer Pieces

Because Taoism is the oldest Chinese religion/philosophy we’ll examine, its easy to understand why religious practices like Chinese alchemy, astrology, feng shui, martial arts, and qigong have been intertwined with the institutionalized forms of Taoism throughout history.

The Thumbtackers visited Beijing’s Dongyue Taoist Temple for some personal interaction with modern-day Taoism.

Beijing’s Dongyue temple is dedicated to the eastern holy mountain: Mount Tai (one of the five holy Taoist mountains in China), and was constructed in 1319. Dongyue is situated around three main courtyards that hold a collection of stone tablets. Around the perimeter of the courtyards are alcoves which each hold one representation of the “76 departments” and give visitors a glimpse of the Taoist supernatural world.

Department for Implementing 15 Kinds of Violent Death

These department depictions can be alarming and unsettling at first, with shocking department names like The Department for Implementing 15 Kinds of Violent Death, which holds the description of: “those who commit evil deeds will fall victim of their own evil deeds as punishment ranging from death caused by starvation, clubbing, revengeful murder, killing in battle, or death caused by fierce animals or snakes, burning fire or food poisoning, or an outbreak of madness, falling into an abyss, tricks of an evil person or ghosts, incurable diseases, or suicide.”

And this is only one of the 76 departments you have to appease – what a complicated afterlife.

Additionally, there are other various departments like the Department for Demons and Monsters, Department for opposing obscene acts, and even a Headquarters for controlling punishment.

Wandering around the Dongyue temple gives visitors a glimpse into just how complicated the practice can become, especially when you consider how simple of a premise Taoism is built on.

Wandering Ghosts

Consequently there are plenty of various, “normal” administrative departments, such as the Department for Signing Official Documents – which makes the final life and death indictment for any subject in accordance with his merits or misconducts. And the departments of Water Animals and Land Animals.

Our visit to the Dongyue temple was definitely confusing, and we left with more questions than answers. Unfortunately we were the only visitors to the Temple that day, so there was no one around to ask.

We did however leave with the understanding that [this sect] of Taoism is definitely a religion and, if anything, they don’t have an unemployment problem in the Taoist underworld. Maybe Obama can learn a few things from this 1319 depiction of the Taoist underworld; though if he institutes a Department for Wandering Ghosts, or the like, The Thumbtackers are moving to Canada immediately. 

China’s three principle teachings (Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism) have been a major part of Chinese culture and tradition since ancient times, but are they a set of religions or philosophies? This very question has been debated throughout modern history, especially since the PRC is officially atheist; attributing religion as a symbol of feudalism and foreign colonialism. However, estimates put a number of around 550 million followers to various faiths in China.

We intend to visit a religious complex of each faith to find out more and weigh in on the religion/philosophy debate.

Buddhism seems more closely related to the Abrahamic Religions that most Western people are familiar with [than Confucianism from part 1 of this series]. There is one man: The Buddha, who does not claim to be a god, teaching a path to achieve the ultimate goal, which in this case is enlightenment. The origins of Buddhism begin with a wonderful story (or parable) about Siddhartha Gotama, an Indian prince, who is foretold at birth to become either the greatest ruler in the history of India, or a very important “seeker” (holy man). Siddhartha went on to become the Buddha, or “enlightened one”, and sought to teach his path of enlightenment to all followers.

So Buddhist followers seek enlightenment: a transcendent state in which there is no suffering, desire, sense of self, or bonds – only freedom from what ails you.

Buddhist Mural

Buddhism arrived in China via the Silk Road from India around 200 BCE and has been making big impressions on the country ever since – despite the government recognizing the country as atheist.

There are two schools of thought on whether Buddhism constitutes a religion. One widely held opinion states that Buddhism is just a nice philosophy to live by – this was our experience with Buddhist followers in Beijing. Some Beijingers frequent temples to “thank Buddha for his wonderful teachings” but not to pray to Buddha; he is not a god. However the further west we traveled in China, the more we saw Buddhism as a local religion.

In order to learn more about Buddhism as a religion, we went west to Dunhuang: home of the famous Mogao Buddhist Caves.

Dunhuang Mogao Cave

These famous sandstone caves were dug out of the side of a mountain beginning in 366 CE, and continual construction over the following thousand years gave way to a system of 492 religious caves. The first caves were dug out to be places for hermit monk meditation but quickly turned into commissioned projects by the wealthiest of families in the region. [Almost like wealthy medieval families often purchased pews in church.]

Religious representations of the Buddhist parables are beautifully painted on the walls in bright natural pigments, and no less than 2,400 (surviving) clay statues of Buddha and his followers can be found throughout the caves. These caves were and still are a place of prayer.

Every year on Buddha’s birthday (April 8^th in China) 50,000 people flock to the largest of the Buddha caves and encircle a large Buddha statue three times. During their circling, followers pray to Buddha and concentrate on what they want from Buddha in the coming year (i.e. good luck or fortune).

Lead-based pigments have faded to black

Even to the non-Buddhist, the Mogao caves are a real treasure; it’s hard not to appreciate the craftsmanship of the murals and sculptures. Each of the pigments were made of natural elements in the area, and unfortunately many are lead-based. Because of this, the paintings are oxidizing quickly and the once-bright colors are fading to black. Despite its UNESCO designation and attempts at restoration, the Magao cave paintings of Dunhuang are slowly disappearing forever.

So is Buddhism a religion or philosophy? The debate wages on.

Reclining Buddha and his 79 followers

Like many world religions and philosophies around the world (i.e. Vatican City), Buddhism is also tied up in political efforts [see also, Tibet]. And because of these religious-political ties Buddhism has in China, we’re going to classify Chinese buddhism as the Chinese government does: a religion..at least for now.