Who let the dogs out
Trip Start Jun 25, 2011
85Trip End Dec 24, 2011
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We get the midday bus and travel for a couple of hours down route 13 before the bus pulled into a station. With no idea whether it is Savannakhet or not, we get off the bus and are herded onto another. After another half an hour we reach Savannakhet.
We get a Tuk Tuk from the bus station to our chosen guesthouse (the guide book said it had a TV) and when we arrive the driver has to wake up the guy who is asleep in front of the tv, so we can get into a room
On our walk we pass a little girl who says "Sabaidee Falang" much to her mothers embarrassment. We get to the eco-trek office and catch the lady just leaving because "not many tourist" so she lets us in to look at what is on offer. We take some leaflets and tell the lady that we will come back tomorrow.
We stroll around town and discuss our plans. The trek's haven't really grabbed us so we consider the one day cycling trek. As we chat we start walking down a deserted street. All of a sudden a nice little Asian dog strolls up to us and immediately starts barking. Jo laughs nervously as about 5 more come out of their homes and do the same. All down the street. One even marches behind us snarling and growling. A bit too close to our ankles for our liking and we quickly cross the road. Although both of us dog lovers, we know when a dog is playing and is threatening and we feel a little shaken up by it. If a dog bit us here, it would mean having to make the journey straight to a hospital, probably back in Vientiane, no matter how bad the bite.
We try to brush it off, but as we make our way around town for the rest of the day a pattern occurs
We decide to take this as an omen, along with the reason behind coming here (the treks) not grabbing our imagination. So decision made, off to Pakse the following day.
Its not that we didn't like Savannakhet, it was nice and the people seemed friendly. But the dogs tried to kill us. That evening it seemed like a Hitchcock movie, every corner we turned we could see silhouettes of dogs, standing their ground with pricked ears. They could smell fear. Even the cute little fluffy ones. They hated us.
And we didn't even eat them in Vietnam. Damn you Mr Bucket.