Day 116 – Don Det, Laos – 10:08 PM

As I sat on a rickety, wooden boat at the Ban Nakasang water front, I pondered the situation I found myself in.  Maybe we made a mistake.  Maybe my fellow backpackers and I should have given in to his demands and paid the additional $1.23 USD and ensured our safe passage to Don Det that night.  But, then I thought back to the day’s events beginning with my pickup at 6:30 AM and found a renewed strength.

Yesterday, I awoke at 6 AM and quickly sprang from my bed.  I had one hour until I was scheduled to leave One Stop Hostel in Siem Reap and make the eight-hour journey to Don Det, Laos.  I finished packing my things and stretched the fabric of my bags as I zipped them closed.  I descended two flights of stairs and found a seat in the lobby.  Other backpackers stirred around waiting to depart for other destinations.  I grabbed a plate and knife and sat down to make two peanut butter sandwiches for the ride.  As I unscrewed the cap to my jar of spread, a tuk tuk driver threw open the door to the hostel and started asking each person if they were traveling to Laos.  I raised my hand and spoke up.  He then approached me and insisted it was time to go now and seemed irritated and surprised I was in the middle of making sandwiches.

I do not take kindly to disrespect or impolite, impatient people. This stems mosty from my previous employer. As a result, I turned to this tuk tuk driver and told him that the pick up time written on my ticket was 7 AM; I had 30 additional minutes. I also made it known I did not appreciate being rushed out the door.  With a dirty look he turned and started looking for the additional travelers heading to Laos that morning.  Moments later he returned to my table and asked if I was ready to go.  I frustratingly nodded, grabbed my bags and walked towards his tuk tuk.  He turned to the others traveling to Laos, who were also unprepared for his arrival, and told them he would return to scoop them up.  I stepped into the cab; he onto his motorbike.  He fired up the engine and we departed.  The city streets were coming alive with children bicycling to school, shop owners preparing for another day and tuk tuks shuttling tourists to Angkor.  I thought about about my three days in Angkor and the majestic temples I gazed upon during that time.  I could not fathom that Cambodia was now in my rear-view and in a matter of hours I would cross over into Laos and continue working east back towards America.

We came to an abrupt stop outside another hostel and I prepared for other backpackers to load themselves and their bags onto the tuk tuk.  My driver got off the bike, looked in my direction and instructed me to “get off, we here.”  Once again, I took a deep breath and was happy to be done with the tuk tuk ride and away from my impatient driver.  I grabbed my bags and stepped onto the curb.  I walked a couple feet into a nearby courtyard and saw a dozen or so backpackers sitting around.  I dropped my bags and joined them sitting on any available surface.  A woman approached and asked for my ticket.  I showed her and she removed the stub.  I realized this was the bus depot, in the loosest sense of the word.  I remained there for the next hour or so, periodically having to show my ticket to other “employees”. I contemplated why I was rushed from my accommodation to sit around at a secondary location.  But, that is life on the road, and particularly in Southeast Asia.  You must be able to roll with the punches.

Eventually two large passenger vans pulled up alongside the curb and we were instructed to grab our bags.  We were divided depending on our destination and walked to our respective van.  I handed over my large pack that was loaded along the floor of the vehicle with the other bags.  I stepped to the door and peered inside.  Four rows of four seats lined the interior.  The rear row was full, along with the window seats in the third row.  I stepped aboard and plopped down in the middle of the third row.  The backrest of the other middle seat was broken and fell back when pressure was applied; my row would only hold three people.  As the rest of the van filled up, my row mates and I made ourselves comfortable.  I sat half on my seat and half on the seat next to me.  However, I reclined on my seat alone.  I contorted my body in the most comfortable position and hoped the ride would be quick.  The driver jumped in and away we went.  We slowly drove out of Siem Reap and proceeded through local towns and villages.  The sealed roads gave way to dirt paths lined with potholes.  We swerved and bounced our way in a northeasterly direction for miles and miles.

We stopped momentarily in a small town to use the restrooms and stretch our legs.  The feeling I got stepping from that van was indescribable.  My knees and legs felt liberated as I stretched them on the roadside.  Our rest was short lived as we loaded inside once again to continue our journey.  I assumed my crammed position in row three and thought about the days of coach buses with ample legroom and proper suspension.  We motored on and I attempted to doze off until the next pothole jarred me awake.

We eventually pulled into a roadside food stand and our driver indicated this was our lunch break.  We had one hour until we continued north.  I downed a couple nutrigrain bars during the first leg so I chose not to order anything for lunch.  I sat under a covered awning and chatted with two Europeans who were traveling to Kratie, Cambodia on a four-month trip around Southeast Asia.  A large bus pulled into the parking lot and backpackers disembarked.  They sat at surrounding tables and ordered lunch.

It was not long after that a woman stepped forward and began announcing what vans and buses would take people to their destinations.  Those that departed Siem Reap traveling to Kratie were instructed to board one van.  My tablemates stood up and I wished them safe travels.  They grabbed their belongings and proceeded to the appropriate van.  She then instructed all those traveling to Laos from Siem Reap to board the large bus.  I grabbed my bags and walked through the dusty parking lot to the waiting bus.  I stowed my large bag underneath in the respective compartment and proceeded up the short flight of stairs into the cabin.  I took my seat and calculated I would most likely get my own row as the number of passengers heading to Laos would not fill the bus completely.  After everyone boarded, a female stepped aboard and wanted to see our tickets.  She stepped to the first occupied seat, gazed at the ticket and insisted the ticket did not include the boat travel to Don Det.  That passenger needed to pay an additional $3 USD.  The passenger in question stated the travel agent in Siem Reap told them the price of the boat was included.  This back and forth went on for a couple of minutes until the passenger finally paid the additional fare.  This continued for every passenger on the bus.  I stated my case as well; One Stop Hostel in Siem Reap told me the boat ticket was included.  I did not want to cause a major scene so I pulled out my wallet and paid the additional $3 USD.

An hour after boarding we finally pulled out of the parking lot for the 39-mile journey to the Laos border.  The spacious bus was exactly what I needed after a grueling van ride earlier in the day.  I stretched my legs and felt the cool air-conditioning rush over me.  I quickly fell asleep as the next thing I remember was being woken up at a restaurant near the Cambodia/Laos border.  A gentleman stepped aboard and instructed us to disembark the bus and gather around the nearby tables.  We did as instructed and he passed out Laos’s entry forms.  He went on to tell us that the visa was $35 USD and an additional $5 USD ($2 USD for the Cambodian exit stamp, $2 USD for the Laos entry stamp and a $1 USD service charge).  Many began to question if these fees were legitimate as some had read the Laos entry visa was $30 USD.  Was this man trying to make a quick $10 USD from each of us?  I questioned his motives for a moment but was the first to step forward to pay the $40 USD.  Everyone lined up behind me and paid the fee as well.  After the paperwork was completed and fees collected, he stepped on a motorbike with our passports and motored to the border checkpoint 100 yards away and within view of where we sat.  He told us he would return within thirty minutes.  In hindsight I should have walked to the border myself and approached the immigration officials.  If they charged me an additional $2 USD for the stamps I would have paid it; if not, I would have known we were getting scammed for a second time that day.

The man’s claim of returning in thirty minutes quickly turned into sixty minutes and then ninety.  Finally, a member of our group walked to the border checkpoint to see what the hold up was.  He returned minutes later on the back of the man’s motorbike.  Our passports were returned and our Laos visas were issued.  We boarded the bus once again and took our seats.  The bus drove us to the border checkpoint (again only 100 yards away) where it stopped.  We were told to exit the bus, walk across the border and board a waiting van.  We did as instructed and soon came upon a white van with a man standing on its roof.  We each passed up our larger bags, which he strapped to the roof.  We crammed inside for the twenty-minute journey to the boat launch in Ban Nakasang. Before departing, the driver stepped aboard and asked for each of our tickets.  There was some grumbling among the group and this was the moment tensions began to rise.  We shifted in our crammed seats to retrieve our tickets.  We held them up as he scanned to ensure everyone aboard was ticketed.  He smiled and closed the cabin door.  He walked around the front of the vehicle, jumped in the driver’s seat and the third leg of my journey began.

Shortly after pulling away from the border checkpoint, the driver turned and told us he was going to stop at an ATM a short distance from the boat launch.  We needed to acquire local currency prior to reaching Don Det as the island housed no ATMs. We pulled into a parking lot and that is where the journey quickly unraveled.  We filed out of the van and walked to the nearby bank of ATMs.  Everyone withdrew ample funds and climbed back aboard.  By now the sun had set and darkness had fallen over the town.  It had been over twelve hours since I left One Stop Hostel in Siem Reap and I was eager to get to my destination.

As we waited to leave the parking lot, a motorcycle pulled up and parked alongside the van.  The driver seemed to be in an irritable mood and ordered each of us off the van in order to show our tickets.  Emotions quickly ran hot and we grumbled to each other about the circumstances.  Why did we need to show our tickets so often?  Who was going to sneak on the van at this point?  The man heard our complaints and he grew angry. He walked alongside the van and sat at a nearby picnic table demanding our tickets.  We filed out and approached him.  Someone handed him their ticket; he looked at it for a brief moment and then threw it aside.  He stood up, told us we were not getting to Don Det that night and all bags needed to be removed from the roof of the van.  My fellow backpackers and I demanded to know why we were stuck in Ban Nakasang when we bought tickets to Don Det.  He angrily told us the boat to Don Det runs from 8 AM to 5 PM.  We arrived after 5 PM, thus we were stuck.  We argued that it was not our fault we missed the 5 PM deadline.  It was not our decision to stay at the border restaurant for an hour and a half while the man with our passports did who knows what at the checkpoint.  Our arguments fell on deaf ears.  He did have a proposition for us; hand over an additional $1.20 USD and he would ensure our passage to Don Det that night.  I was dumbfounded that someone else was going to try to line their pockets with my money.  I refused to pay the bribe and made my argument to my fellow backpackers.  My original ticket included the boat fee, I purchased the ticket a second time from the woman on the bus and now this man was trying to strong arm me into buying it a third time.  NO WAY!!!  I would sooner sleep on the picnic table I stood near than pay this guy who barked at us demanding money.

A group of us decided to grab our bags and make the ten-minute walk to the boat launch and try our luck there.  We began walking and 95% of our group soon followed.  We walked down a ramp to the docks and handed over our tickets to a nearby attendant.  We immediately boarded one of the boats and made a pact to not move until we were brought to Don Det.  There we sat as the minutes ticked by.  The locals were dumbfounded by our presence and occasionally shined flashlights in our direction while they talked amongst themselves. Eventually, the guy from the motorcycle showed up with the unfortunate group that paid him the bribe.  They boarded a nearby boat and motored away to Don Det.  It was a little disconcerting to see them leave while our near future was uncertain.  Occasional thoughts of regret floated into my mind. I countered those with reassurances I made the right decision by not paying and it would make a great blog post.  After an hour or so, a group of three or four backpackers left the boat and made the short walk into town attempting to remedy the situation.  Twenty or thirty minutes later they returned with two locals.  Apparently, the group walked into town and demanded to know where the police station was.  This demand undoubtedly raised eyebrows amongst the locals. They figured it must be in there best interest to get our rebel group of backpackers to Don Det that night.  Our group divided between two boats while exchanging celebratory high fives.  The local boatmen climbed aboard, fired up the engines and away we went.  We reached the beach on Don Det a short while later.  I climbed ashore with three blokes traveling together and we surveyed the nearby guesthouses looking for a place to crash.  We eventually stumbled upon two small bungalows and our 14-hour journey from Siem Reap was officially complete.

It would have been easy to pay the third bribe and reach Don Det quicker, but there comes a time when you grow tired of being taken advantage of.  It is one aspect of traveling in foreign countries that is unavoidable.  There have been times in the past when I’ve gotten swindled out of money on the road and it will happen again in the future.  But, when someone so blatantly tries to line their pockets with my money, that is when I draw the line and stand my ground.