An Expedition to the wilds of the Rugby World – Day 8 - Petersham Vs Vientiane Buffalos
Created | Updated Feb 18, 2003
Thursday 26/9
For some strange reason I woke up with a hangover this morning. Thankfully I had time for breakfast before our tour started.
We visited all the main sights of Vientiane, including the Vat Sisaket, which has alcoves full of small buddha statues all the way around it, and the That Luang, where it is important to walk clockwise around the inside perimeter and complete a full circuit if you wish to have a long life.
Just as we were leaving one of the temples a young monk started ringing a rather large bell, calling the monks to prayer. I rushed out of the bus towards the bell tower whilst grappling with my camera. I focused my camera on the monk as he kept hammering at the bell, trying to get him on the downswing. I almost took a photo but decided to wait for the next swing. Unfortunately there was no next swing as the requisite number of tolls had been sounded and a perfect shot went begging.
Last stop was the Victory monument, which looks like a cement version of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which was apparently built using cement intended for the construction of the airport. As we climbed up the internal staircase I was surprised to come across two floors full of souvenir shops about two thirds of the way up. We kept climbing to the top from which there are good views of Vientiane if you can stand the heat and expend the energy and sweat required to get up there and then back down again.
We headed back to the hotel and spent the rest of the day in the pool trying to cool down before our game that afternoon. There were a couple of older Aussie blokes also in the pool who asked me if I was responsible for the singing last night. I assured them it wasn’t me. It turned out they were a couple of old rugby types, on one of those well to do 6 week air conditioned coach tours around Indochina. When I told them we were playing a game that afternoon they decided it would be a good idea if they came along and watched us play. It was certainly a better idea than actually playing.
Eventually it was time to leave the comfort of the pool and get on a bus to the ground. I had organised for the hotel to provide us with a bus but in typical Lao fashion it wasn’t anywhere to be seen and would be here ‘soon’. When enough ‘soon’ had passed that we were in danger of missing the start of the game I started to get a bit anxious. Thankfully our new found supporters group (which now numbered half a dozen) came to the rescue and got their bus to take us to the ground.
The ground itself was a small patch of vacant land at the entrance to the university, with no change rooms, no goal posts and a ten metre line that started out being more like seven metres in the middle and about a metre and a half by the time it reached the sidelines.
In Laos there are two teams, the Buffalos comprised of expats, and the Tigers made up of locals. We were to play a combined team, and thankfully they agreed to lend us a few players as well. For mine, this was the hottest conditions we played in, although others disagreed.
The game started in exactly the same fashion as in Phnom Penh, with Bob L watching the ball land between his legs and go into touch. Bob and Blackbird both had good games as did Netball, even if he did murder a try by not passing to one of our Lao players who was unmarked on his outside. The only other things, apart from the heat, I can remember were Blackbird losing the plot and abusing the referee at one point for giving us a penalty and Vinnie getting hammered by the smallest player on the field.
At the end of the game we had run out fairly convincing winners, 6 tries to 3. After match beer and water was provided by the Australian embassy, which was nice of them. It was also nice that our support crew had actually left us some drink. They departed, with our thanks for the bus, not long after the game. I suspect despite all the wonderful sights they must have seen on their trip that our game would have been the incident most talked about upon their return.
Surprisingly, our bus from the hotel did not make it to pick us up either. As the sun and the beer got low, people started heading for the main road to look for a tuk-tuk back to the hotel. Our tuk-tuk broke down on the way back, forcing us to flag down another before we could finally reach the hotel and have a well deserved (and needed) shower.
We were getting picked up from our hotel by some Buffalo players , who had kindly agreed transport us to the after match function at the Spring Roll restaurant. They arrived mid Kangaroo court and were given a lesson on how harshly the judge looked upon the crime of grass cutting (which, loosely defined, is the act of trying to chat up a woman who is already talking to a fellow tourist).
The Spring Roll turned out to be a wonderful place a little way out of town, on the edge of the Mekong river. Once again the hospitality was outstanding, with beer and food provided. The food was very good, including possibly the best larb I have ever tasted.
This was possibly the best night of the entire tour. The camaraderie between the three different groups (expats, locals and tourists) was magical. During the speeches we were advised that we had travelled the furthest of any team that had ever visited Laos.
The Loa players and their girlfriends were taking as many group photos with us as we were taking of them. At one point I was speaking to one of their older players who told me he had played rugby for Laos prior to the revolution.
Most of our team ended up on the back of one of the locals bikes being taken to their favourite nightclub, however Dan, Bob L, myself and a few others stayed on at the Spring Roll talking to Steve and any of the remaining locals. By this time the free beer had run out and we were being charged something outrageous like 50 cents for a longneck of Beer Loa. Eventually the owners went to bed and told us to leave the money on the counter. Finally Steve decided that since he had to go to work in the morning it might be a good idea if he dropped us at the hotel and went home.
Dan, Bob L and I decided to wander the streets looking for an open bar. We eventually gave up and called it a night some time in the early hours of the morning.
My only regret was that we didn’t play rugby on the weekend, as they normally play in a village forty five minutes from Vientiane, where they get crowds of a few thousand spectators, including a large number of monks from the nearby monastery. I might have to organise another trip back for that reason alone.
For some strange reason I woke up with a hangover this morning. Thankfully I had time for breakfast before our tour started.
We visited all the main sights of Vientiane, including the Vat Sisaket, which has alcoves full of small buddha statues all the way around it, and the That Luang, where it is important to walk clockwise around the inside perimeter and complete a full circuit if you wish to have a long life.
Just as we were leaving one of the temples a young monk started ringing a rather large bell, calling the monks to prayer. I rushed out of the bus towards the bell tower whilst grappling with my camera. I focused my camera on the monk as he kept hammering at the bell, trying to get him on the downswing. I almost took a photo but decided to wait for the next swing. Unfortunately there was no next swing as the requisite number of tolls had been sounded and a perfect shot went begging.
Last stop was the Victory monument, which looks like a cement version of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which was apparently built using cement intended for the construction of the airport. As we climbed up the internal staircase I was surprised to come across two floors full of souvenir shops about two thirds of the way up. We kept climbing to the top from which there are good views of Vientiane if you can stand the heat and expend the energy and sweat required to get up there and then back down again.
We headed back to the hotel and spent the rest of the day in the pool trying to cool down before our game that afternoon. There were a couple of older Aussie blokes also in the pool who asked me if I was responsible for the singing last night. I assured them it wasn’t me. It turned out they were a couple of old rugby types, on one of those well to do 6 week air conditioned coach tours around Indochina. When I told them we were playing a game that afternoon they decided it would be a good idea if they came along and watched us play. It was certainly a better idea than actually playing.
Eventually it was time to leave the comfort of the pool and get on a bus to the ground. I had organised for the hotel to provide us with a bus but in typical Lao fashion it wasn’t anywhere to be seen and would be here ‘soon’. When enough ‘soon’ had passed that we were in danger of missing the start of the game I started to get a bit anxious. Thankfully our new found supporters group (which now numbered half a dozen) came to the rescue and got their bus to take us to the ground.
The ground itself was a small patch of vacant land at the entrance to the university, with no change rooms, no goal posts and a ten metre line that started out being more like seven metres in the middle and about a metre and a half by the time it reached the sidelines.
In Laos there are two teams, the Buffalos comprised of expats, and the Tigers made up of locals. We were to play a combined team, and thankfully they agreed to lend us a few players as well. For mine, this was the hottest conditions we played in, although others disagreed.
The game started in exactly the same fashion as in Phnom Penh, with Bob L watching the ball land between his legs and go into touch. Bob and Blackbird both had good games as did Netball, even if he did murder a try by not passing to one of our Lao players who was unmarked on his outside. The only other things, apart from the heat, I can remember were Blackbird losing the plot and abusing the referee at one point for giving us a penalty and Vinnie getting hammered by the smallest player on the field.
At the end of the game we had run out fairly convincing winners, 6 tries to 3. After match beer and water was provided by the Australian embassy, which was nice of them. It was also nice that our support crew had actually left us some drink. They departed, with our thanks for the bus, not long after the game. I suspect despite all the wonderful sights they must have seen on their trip that our game would have been the incident most talked about upon their return.
Surprisingly, our bus from the hotel did not make it to pick us up either. As the sun and the beer got low, people started heading for the main road to look for a tuk-tuk back to the hotel. Our tuk-tuk broke down on the way back, forcing us to flag down another before we could finally reach the hotel and have a well deserved (and needed) shower.
We were getting picked up from our hotel by some Buffalo players , who had kindly agreed transport us to the after match function at the Spring Roll restaurant. They arrived mid Kangaroo court and were given a lesson on how harshly the judge looked upon the crime of grass cutting (which, loosely defined, is the act of trying to chat up a woman who is already talking to a fellow tourist).
The Spring Roll turned out to be a wonderful place a little way out of town, on the edge of the Mekong river. Once again the hospitality was outstanding, with beer and food provided. The food was very good, including possibly the best larb I have ever tasted.
This was possibly the best night of the entire tour. The camaraderie between the three different groups (expats, locals and tourists) was magical. During the speeches we were advised that we had travelled the furthest of any team that had ever visited Laos.
The Loa players and their girlfriends were taking as many group photos with us as we were taking of them. At one point I was speaking to one of their older players who told me he had played rugby for Laos prior to the revolution.
Most of our team ended up on the back of one of the locals bikes being taken to their favourite nightclub, however Dan, Bob L, myself and a few others stayed on at the Spring Roll talking to Steve and any of the remaining locals. By this time the free beer had run out and we were being charged something outrageous like 50 cents for a longneck of Beer Loa. Eventually the owners went to bed and told us to leave the money on the counter. Finally Steve decided that since he had to go to work in the morning it might be a good idea if he dropped us at the hotel and went home.
Dan, Bob L and I decided to wander the streets looking for an open bar. We eventually gave up and called it a night some time in the early hours of the morning.
My only regret was that we didn’t play rugby on the weekend, as they normally play in a village forty five minutes from Vientiane, where they get crowds of a few thousand spectators, including a large number of monks from the nearby monastery. I might have to organise another trip back for that reason alone.
