A two hour boat ride north of Luang Prabang is the Pak Ou cave. Since we were traveling two families the best way to get there was to hire a slow boat just for us.



The flow boats are long narrow boats that are ideal for navigating the Mekong River. This part of the river is full of underwater rocks but the boats seem to navigate these treacherous waters with ease.

Having the boat for ourselves gave us more flexibility with regards to how long we wanted to spend at the cane and also meant that we have more room to move around.



The front of the boar is where the captain sits and steers the boat. After this there is a section for the passengers followed by a small pump toilet and then the living quarters for the captain and his family. Out the back there is a small kitchen for them to do the cooking.

The cave is upstream into an area full of limestone mountains.



The many boats moor at a long and wobbly floating bamboo bridge that takes you to the cave itself.





The cave itself is not big but it is full of small Buddhas that have been put there over hundreds of years. You can tell that this used to be an important place of worship.





Now however the place is so crowded with tourists (guilty here too) coming in on boats that it is hard to move around. I could not stop myself from taking this photo of Buddha holding up his hands to stop more boats arriving.



At the top of the hill the hill there is what I think is a more 'pleasant' cave. It is equally interesting and much less crowded because most tourists don's make it up the many steps to the top.

The traditional Lao Lau is still being made. Just north of Luang Prabang on the river there is a little village on the river called Whiskey village whos main income is from the production of Lao Lau.



When I was there two decades ago this is what the locals were drinking (now they drink beer instead). I still remember the foul taste from the home brew that was distilled in large oil drums after having been fermented in large clay pots. Whenever I see it I always wonder if distilling strong alcohol right next to an open flame is the wisest of ideas!?!?





The process itself hasn't changed, but these days most of the whiskey is sold to tourists and I tastes a lot more pleasant that it did back then.

The food in Laos is good. It is traditional cooking mostly still cooked over an open fire.





You see them start cooking the food well before sunrise in big pots.

The food itself is mostly a fusion of Thai and Vietnamese. It has all the noodle soups from Vietnam, but with the more street food and spice of Thailand. The picture below is a typical noodle soup with a traditional cube of coagulated blood.





We were eating a lot from small street type restaurants following the rule that is had to be popular with the locals. The logic behind this is that the locals would know what is good and would also be choosy regarding the quality of the food, so chances are that it would be fresh and not cause food poisoning (none of us or the kids had any issues on the trip).






There are some dubious food there, such as some of the meat BBQ where they sometimes have the meet cooked earlier on the side of the BBQ and then just re-heat it when you order it.







Also be careful with some of the food stalls where the food may have been sitting there for most of the day and often from the day before.





From a 'snack' perspective there are some personal favourites that I absolutely love such as the BBQ fried squid - the packet stuff is just not the same.



Also the Bamboo and coconut fried rice is delicious - they sell them at bus and train stations and especially the purple rice one is yummi!



The freshly made puffed breads over an open fire - they will use two rakes to flip them until they are done.

The temples in Luang Prabang are some of the most beautiful anywhere. Yes, Thailand has some amazing temples, but these are different. They are smaller, and more intricately decorated.

Luang Prabang is without a doubt the cultural highlight of Laos. The old part of the city is beautiful and there are good reasons why is has been heritage protected.

I believe it has the most beautiful temples of South East Asia - they are not the largest or even the oldest, but the amount of details that has been put into them is absolutely stunning.



In addition to this there are a lot of other very interesting things to see in and do in the city, which I will cover in later posts.

The city itself is situated between two rivers where one of them is the Mekong which is still fairly busy with slow boats and ferries (The chinese are building a large bridge across the river north of the city)





The section between the two rivers form the city itself which consist of four parallel streets each about a kilometer long.



Everything within the city itself can be covered on foot and in the evening the main streets are blocked for card and reserved for pedestrians.

The place is dominated by a big hill with a small temple and stuba on top. It is very popular with tourists to climb the hill around sunset. And there is a great view of the mountains from the top.







There are some things that have changed in the city since I was there the last time. The most noticeable is the amount of tourists and fine hotels - and here it is really the more wealthy middle aged Europeans you see. The main street of the old city is full of modern western European influenced restaurants, souvenir and antique stores.



Fortunately you don't have to travel further that to the parallel streets to fine more low key Laos places to eat.

Also, last time I visited, I stayed in a small guest house near the city centre called Tanoy Guest House. When I stayed here I became good friends with the family and the place was named after the oldest daughter who's name was Tanoy.

The place is still there and apart from a larger fence it looks pretty much unchanged.

The 'secret' war in the 60's and 70's had a major impact on the country. A massive amount of bombs were dropped by mostly the Americans in mostly the Northern and Eastern part of the country. This was partly an internal civil war but also to stop the North Vietnamese using the country as a supply route.

To get an insight into this was I can highly recommend the books by Christoper Robbins called 'The Ravens' and 'Air America'.

The impact today is that un-exploded ordnance (mines, cluster bombs etc.) is covering large parts of the country and that every year lots of people including children gets injured or killed.

It is also very noticable, especially in the Hmong villages that there is no presence of old men. This is because most of these were killed either during the war where especially they took heavy casualties despite the American support or through 'education' camps after the war.

Last time I went to Laos I went to Plains of Jars which was one of the most heavily bombed areas and the debris was everywhere. We weren't going there on this trip, but to give the family and friends an insight into the history and the dangers to present people we visited the COPE organisation in Vientiane.

Here is Aiden in front of an unexploded (disarmed) clusterbomb. Looks just like a ball and tempting for kids to play with.



These were dropped from canisters on aircraft with several hundred in each load. It is estimated that 1/3 of these didn't explode on impact.
 


This map shows the areas most effected.



If you look for the bombs they you see them everywhere - mostly disarmed and used as fence posts.



There is also remains of anti aircraft guns such as this one in Luang Prabang. The barrel had been removed but everything else still worked on it and they could turn it by rotating the handles, much to the amusement of the kids. During the war kids only a little older than our kids would have been fighting at the front lines.

One thing that I love taking photos of on my travels are People.



A lot of the photos of the people of my travels are in the other posts, but here is a selection that didn't really fit into the other stories.

This is an old woman sitting doing preparing food or doing her handicraft outside her house while observing the street life.



Someone was shooting a wedding, I used the opportunity to snap a photo of my own.



A woman bathing in the Mekong



A girl posing for her boyfriend on top of the hill at Luang Prabang



A woman walking down the street



Another woman doing handicraft outside her shop

The fishing along the rivers in Laos are still very traditional.

It is the circular throw out nets, fish traps and people foraging along the river banks to collect river seaweed and snails for eating.



In most places they still use dugout canoes for the fishing.





In the various town you see people sitting repairing their fishing nets.










Kim told us that when she was a little girl she used to help the family repair the fishing nets, but that she's forgotten how to do it.



One of the delicacies in Loang Prabang is the local riverweed. We saw multiple people collecting it and also sitting cleaning it.

Some of the other highlights for the kids in Vang Vieng was the gym at our hotel. The local guys used it to train for kick boxing and the kids felt inspired.






Also, one evening we spotted someone launching wishing lanterns. We asked where they came from and through a lot of pointing we found a local shop keeper selling them.

We bought one and launched it an the kids loved the experience.




Also, one of the trees at the hotel had two little monkeys staying there most of the day. The kids loved standing there shouting profanities at them.

Last night Kim and I went to the show Velvet at the Sydney Opera House.

It was a combination of circus, burlesque and boogie nights (70's music) in one show.




The show had great music with Marcia Hines and Brendan Maclean and the performers were great. I think everyones favourite was the guy with the hula hoops.

I don't know for sure which ones are Claus and which ones are Rene.

This post is mostly about Claus when he was at his top as one of Denmarks top tennis players.

I have kept scans of all the newspaper clippings from when he was winning a lot of tournaments.





























































In the mid 90's he started to get pretty sick and although he still tried to play tennis it was never at the same level again. Eventually he more or less gave up. His illness took to great a hold of him. These are some of the 'darkest' photos I have of him while he was struggling with his schizophrenia and were taken shortly before I moved to Australia.





He lost contact with most of his friends and was very dependent on my mum and dad as well as other support programs in place.







I prefer to remember him as he was before he passed away.


















This poem reminds me of him.

The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.
The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbors’ yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

—Meggie Royer

Here are some more photos from my childhood in no particular order.

The first ones from a New Years eve where we got a bit silly with the hats. These were taken at a New Years even in Kenya and before my brother got really sick, so probably around 1989/90.



And here is Claus.



And my mum.




I was really good at shooting when I was a kid and won lots of championships. This photo is one of the few things I have from that time.


This is Claus and I with our dog.



Not sure which ones of these is Claus and which is me.




















This was taken just christmas day in the back yard of my grandma's (Mormor) house. We got the skis as a christmas present. All the fields behind her house belonged to my mothers brother Flemming.



I think this may be my brother. For the first time I've noticed the photo in the background. It looks like this may be a photo of my mum with her two sisters and brother and what could be her dad Raimer in the middle.















This would most likely be the new years eve where we were trapped by the snow 1978/79. We were supposed to have celebrated with the family but couldn't even get out of the house. Delicious with a glass of milk and a pie.






We didn't have a lawn in the back yard. Instead we had pebbles...lots of fun shoveling them.







This I think is a christmas eve dinner at my grandmas (mormor) place. My mum on the left and my uncle Flemming in the middle. Not sure who the person standing up in. It could be my grandmas brother. Possibly from around 1976/77


I think it is my great grandpa (Raimer) in the middle row number two from the left. The title of the photo says that it is Christoffer (??) in the top left corner. Looking at the age of the boys this would have been taken in the 1920's.


Claus dancing aeound the christmas tree and my mum and grandma (Bedstemor/Farmor).


From left to Right. My grandma (On my dads side/Bedstemor/farmor), Knud Aage (My uncle/dads brother), My mum (in the foreground), My grandad (in the background), Irene (my auntie/dads sister), Grete and I assume the baby is Vinnie which means that it is likely that my mum was pregnant with Claus (born in July).






















This was taken at my grandparents place and after my brother got sick. He was really suffering at this point.






This is one of the happiest family photos I have and the only one I have a print of.



Going for a walk at Marielyst with Lott and Willy some of our german friends. Claus in the foreground and my dad on the right. I think you can just spot me in yellow pants in the background.



I think this is at Lotte and Willy's summer house.






Not sure if this is Claus or myself being babtised. It is my grand mother being god mother.











This was taken outside our summer house in Marielyst.



My brother number 2 from the top right on his school photo.



Claus at daycare number 4 from the top left.



Me at day care top left.

Here is some more old photos of my mum. This time with here brother and sisters.

This first one if probably one of the oldest. You can tell that the photo was shot in black and white and that the negative was later coloured (badly). It would be my mum in the middle with her two sisters Eli (the oldest on the right) and Yrsa.




This is my mum in the middle with what I assume is cousins.





I think it is my grandmother (Karen) holding my mum.


Here is the same as the first photo, but this time without the colour.



My mum and her sisters playing in the courtyard of their farm


My mum with her older sisters.


Eli, Yrsa, Sonja and Flemming Kragh.


Having her photo taken as a little girl.


Upset about having her photo taken?
























My mum with her younger brother Flemming.


As a liitle girl


My mum in school.





From left to right...Eli, Yrsa my mum (Sonja) and Flemming.


As a young girls/woman...possibly from her Konfirmation.



My mum as a girl scout (no 4 from the left).


It is Flemming in the middle and my mum on the right.

When I was a kid we would every summer travel to Southern Europe with our caravan.

Usually travelling through Swizerland or Austria ending up in Italy (Either Lido di Jesolo or the Italian Riviera). Underway we would visit old friends of my mum and dad from the time they were working in Italy.

Here are some photos from that time.









I just noticed the burn scar on my arm on the above photo. I think this is one of the few childhood photos where you can really see it.




















This was out caravan while travelling.








This is our caravan with the tent up in the middle.

This weekend we took the kids for a walk with some friends from Maroubra to Lurline Bay.

It is a nice little pleasant walk that is easy for the kids.




They loved jumping between the boulders.




...and exploring the small rock pools.







Because of the recent storms the beach was full of Blue bottles, so no playing in the sand this time around.





They are nasty little creatures that will sting you badly if you touch them.




This surfer was being very careful in his bare feet.

Earlier this month it was Lucas birthday.

We didn't have a kids party for him, but we did celebrate with the family.







We gave him a new bike for his birthday...he was stunned and didn't know what to think of it, but he loves riding it now.

Last weekend there was a Lego exhibition in the city.

We caught the train in to St James station and walked from there.





It was a fairly small exhibition with my favourite being the pirate ship with all the details of the lower decks.












There was also some Ninjago and Star wars.










And a lot of other pieces.

Rather than keeping all the kids artwork I instead take photos of it.

Here is some of the latest additions.

Christmas is approaching fast. The Christmas tree is up and Kim is busy shopping for presents for the various people.

The other night I managed to slot in 10 minutes for the first set of Christmas photos of Aiden and Lucas.




I was shooting these with a 50mm f1.4 lens to get the nice blurry Christmas tree lights. This also meant that I didn't have much room to play with when it came to focus...almost impossible with two moving kids whily trying to get the right mood with facial expressions, tantrums etc. Aiden couldn't sit still and Lucas refused to wear his hat. What do they say...never photograph wild animals and children!

The other day it was Aiden and Lucas Christmas concert with their daycare centre.

This year they were supposed to dress up in some country's national clothes.

We borrowed some Chinese clothes from KC and they looked very cute in it.






The concert went very well. We were especially impressed how well Aiden was able to follow the instructions and the moves to the various dances.








It was especially funny when they were singing this song with Konitchiwa...Namaste....BULA!!!!




Lucas was also in the first part of the concert sitting down the front with one of the carers.

Aiden is still playing soccer once a week. Last week he insisted on wearing my shoes instead of his own.



Maybe he was hinting that his old shoes are getting too small.

We have had a lot of rain lately. On one of the days I was showing Aiden and Lucas how to make a pair of funny glasses out of an egg crate and a piece of string.

They got to paint the glasses afterwards.

The other day I picked up Aiden and Lucas pretty late from daycare.

They were in the process of cleaning and Aiden was eagerly waiting for them to turn on the vacuum cleaner so he could play with it.

I have already gone out too far. I cannot return and jump over the stream because it is growing inside of me and is becoming a roaring river.
What are these strange thoughts I am having?
Were these free farmers in the hills above Varde Aaa more free at year 900 than they were in year 1100?
The only difference was christianity.

Off to the library
The landowner at Noerholm
The Herredfoged.
The Bishop in Ribe
It is all written here

I start thinking about hunting
A good hunter makes sure that they keep a healthy game on the property. He will feed the game during tough winters and make sure that the the overall health is there and have to most productive game survive.
No, it is not right to have these thoughts here in the library when it is the farmers I need to find information on.

Queen Margaret..
Make a claim on Noerholm..
Maybe there is something here..

Wasn't it the landowner of Noerholm that owned Noerholm?
Has he just built up Noerholm and then put his filthy hand on every surrounding piece of land and property?
Which the church was claiming that it should own?
Or was it the Bishop in Ribe?

This was not what I was supposed to find here at the library. It was the farmer - farmers!

Hunting...

What rubbish was that. I must get rid of these thoughts, this has nothing to do with hunting.

It wouldn't have been the lord who was out there beginning to move large boulders.

And not the bishop -

Christianity had just been introduced but building that many churches required a lot of workforce.

My thoughts are diverted.

Has this big change in faith based activity created communities, something in common because surely it was the farmers who built the churches.
This introduction was it something that made the existence easier for the farmers, my old roots.
It must have been, a lot of other things to believe in has been forgotten and the church is now a gathering place.

You should never start researching your ancestry.
You encounter one surprise after another and will never finish. There is always more.
There is changes in ones beliefs for every new discovery.

Of cause it was the farmers who built the churches. Who else would have?
They probably started with the words; "On the day of honour I am with you".

My thoughts are again left astray.

Russia build the aswan dam in Egypt.

Yes, I saw it myself with my own eyes. I drove in my car along the large canals they were digging.

How was it that they explained it to me?
This canal was to be dug 5 metres deep, 100 metres wide and should extend 800km out into the desert.

There were thousands of workers, it all looked like a large ants nests.
Men with baskets full of soil on their heads.

There was not a single Russian in this ants nest.

- Who actually built the Aswan Dam? -

Farmers

My grandads memoirs.

-

My Memoirs.

-

But there has to be something before us.

Our family of farmers from Kongeaaen at Toboel to Lyngbakkerne across Varde Aa - Mejls - Hornelund - Sig.

How did they live in the last 1000 years?

I rush to the library but it feels like hitting a miss in the lottery.

Have my ancestors, the farmers, not accomplished anything that made it worthy for a couple of pages in the danish history?

Yes, they have of cause not walked about killing each other to get hold of their neighbors possessions. Rather the opposite, from the looks of it, it was the farmers that were killed.

And for this the killers deserved a rather prominent mentioning in the history.

Yes, there was built a number of churches in the 1100's, but my relatives, the farmers are not mentioned.

I start to think.

- Who actually built these churches? -.

..as a couple of cows and a bull out on the feeding grounds. Something that can work and reproduce.

There is an old say like this - The devil looks after his own.
Let me immediately point out that the Devil didn't look after the farmers in the area around Varde and it was obvious that it was the met in power that were looked after by the Devil.

Here I would like to jump forward to 1300-1400 in the Danish history (Queen Margaret I). It is like my ancestors roots here start sprouting quickly. It is not quite clear who owns then, the church or the landowner at Noerholm.
Queen Margaret interfere in the argument and this gives the farmers a bit of breathing space.
A few farmers become more established and become independent (owns their land).
How should all these farmers see all the trouble ahead? Yes, even the Danish history has forgotten them.
It is only all the bad evil, power hungry people that are written about.
The more bloodthirsty the more pages they get in the book.

How mush is described about the farmers fight for independence against Kristian the 3rd?

The farmers at Varde invaded the river fortres at Varde and destroyed it but then had to retreat north with Captain Clement pursued by Johan Rantzau the kings right hand.
The farmers were at last defeated at Aalborg so that they would not appear in the history books. Not even crying and mourning by women and children behinds the hills at Varde river.

Honour becomes he who should be honoured.

I am stuck.

There is something peculiar about this study.

Why do I still return to - in a time of hunting?

Right! I remember, there is a book by that name.

I tell myself to think about something else - And he thoughts saw wide views.
And the neighbours wife said to her mum - That decease looks just like...

No, this is enough...

Were the farmers the hunted game or not?
Were the king, the lords, the church, the bishop the hunters?

Were the farmers the game and the hunting so good that the hunters couldn't agree on splitting the game?
Was it like that all over Denmark? Of cause it was. the Varde area was no exception.

It is something strange you are getting involved in when you study your ancestors.
The farmers had to live, otherwise there was nothing to hunt, but when the land owner was about to loose his hunting rights then the hunting escalated to the point where the game was about to go extinct.
The hunters would then loose interest and start hunting elsewhere.

Here we can mention the war against Sweden with its following plague as well as Napoleon with his Spanish troops in Denmark.

The farmers always recovered, because they were the lifeline for Denmark.
Children are born and new generations grow up between the marshes and hills without knowing whether they in years to come will be valuable as game and hence again be hunted to extinction.

It is the owners of the hunting grounds, their mentality and actions that is written into the Danish history. They have been lifted onto the podium for their dishonest behaviour.

On the contrary is just mentioned as an afterthought...