I booked a bus ticket for Vang Vieng at the hostel and the van arrived at 7 am.
While I was in a hurry to get to my next destination, it was one of those trips
where they stopped at commissioned places expecting customers to buy stuff. I
really didn´t want to buy ceramic cats, or even Cheetos at a grocery store in
the hills. By the time I actually reached Vang Vieng it was 4 in the evening. I
located a cheap hostel in my guide book and found the place had one room free.
Alleluia! A single bed with just enough space to walk around and a common
bathroom outside.
The
place was run by an old German gentleman with tons of stories written in the
wrinkles of his face. I asked him what I could do immediately and he gave me a
hand drawn map to Crystal Cave and the keys to a pink girl cycle with tassels
on the handles. He patted me on the back as if to say “it suits you”.
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Before
I continue with this story I should tell you I´m not very good with maps. So
when he told me to stop by the bridge and enter a small gate, I stopped by the
first bridge I saw and got through a gate. I then walked through some fields
for a good 30 minutes till I reached a little forested area with three
teenagers sitting at a desk with a handwritten sign that had an arrow and
Crystal Cave written on it. This should have really sounded some alarms in my
head, but there´s so much of rubbish packed in there, it sort of muted the
sounds. I paid for a ticket and a guy followed me to the cave, unsolicited.
The
cave entrance was a 4.5ft by 3.5 ft hole in the hill side. We walked in and it
was pitch black. I did have a torch though. The ground was wet and slippery and
I fell down 3 or 4 times. Fortunately I’m built with natural padding. There was
nothing about this cave that was organised or even tourism related. There were
some passageways that would be impossible for large people to pass through.
After about 20 minutes, we reached a pond that the guide informed me was the
Crystal pool. It was dark. It was scary. And it was in a bloody cave. I walked in
till my ankles and decided that that was all the adventure I wanted. We headed
back to the entrance and I fell another couple of times. My body hated me and
my mind was cursing its life choices. The guide then asked me for 50$ for his
services. After a little argument I gave him ten and made my way to Stella (I
named the cycle) as soon as possible. Back at the hostel, guests told me that
they had also ventured into non tourism commissioned caves where they had to
crawl on their tummies to explore it. We all laughed. Nervously. This wasn’t
something anybody should do. For the next day, I planned to go floating on a
tube, down a river lined by bars. That seemed more of the adventure I needed!
