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Chu, chu, chu, train the more top the world enters the station


You want to experience being the most unique is that?

Forget the Maglev in Shanghai. Forget Shinkansen in Japan. Forget the Trans-Siberian. And forget the TGV between Quebec and Windsor (in fact, that one, you can forget it but for reasons different from the other three ... with the full capacity of our brave politicians to connect, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict will settled before the first shovelful of earth in Quebec).

Oops, I digress ...

No, for the experiment most peatedly that is, no need for all these wonderful technologies floating trains. Just need to get on the side of Battambang in Cambodia to try the Norry: a bamboo train!

The concept is as simple as ingenious: a bamboo platform three meters long and two meters wide, automotive-type axles mounted in tandem to allow vertical movement of the wheels and a gasoline engine the back of the boat to move the whole.

At full capacity, between 12 and 15 people, the train runs at about 15 km / h. With three or four passengers, one can reach higher peaks 30 km / h.

I had the chance to experiment with a railroad engineer (seriously, what were the odds that I try a bamboo train in the middle of Cambodia with a railroad engineer? .. . you've encountered a lot, you, the railway engineers?). The face he made when he saw the condition of the rails was worth at least a million dollars.

A giant slalom course at infinity. But no risk of derailment, according to the expert, since the train is not moving fast enough.

The expert also explained that the huge holes (the largest up to four to five inches long) at the junction of the rails and the fact that the ends of rails are not at all really does not make the adventure more dangerous. Did you just slap that ass pretty solid bamboo every ten seconds. Too bad, I think it would make a story more punchée :-(

Another factor making the particular adventure: there's a rail for the outward and return. In other words, trains going in opposite directions and which will meet at some point.

Again, no threat to the two trains going in opposite directions collide. Unless the drivers decide to make a contest of the bigger "cheers" to the world.

is where the genius behind the bamboo train makes sense. Within about 15 seconds, remove the platform of bamboo rails and axles to give way to another train. And reverse operation to get the train back on track. And

not need a 4 to 7 of rock, paper, scissors to determine which process will give way.

The rule is simple: the two drivers drop their pants and whoever has the lowest seed to move his train!

Hahaha! I heard you had ... no measuring seed!

The priority goes to the train on which there is a motorcycle. Then, priority goes to train with the most passengers. And what happens when two trains have the same number of passengers? Well, both drivers drop their pants and ...

In fact, I do not think there is any specific rule. In our case, the engineer, his girlfriend and I screamed Avont others to settle before they do. So we won.

Unfortunately, according to some rumors, Norry could disappear (too bad for many locals who use this means of transportation unique on a daily basis) if the government decides to go ahead with the improvement project rail service between Battambang and Phnom Penh.

And in the event that the Cambodian government was going ahead with this project, the Quebec government might buy the bamboo trains. This is probably the closest we'll ever TGV.

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Temples consumption


The Great Wall of China, Machu Picchu, the Pyramids of Egypt, Carrefour and complex Colossus Laval ... all structures magic born of human ingenuity that must be visited at least once in their life. List to which you must absolutely add the Temples of Angkor in Cambodia, a source of national pride for an entire people. A visit to the temples, is witnessing the spirituality creativity, extravagance and gigantism that has marked this empire.

If Angkor Wat was the only temple on the site, could be debated as to which building named above is the most spectacular. But with more than 200 temples and monuments scattered throughout the jungle in an area of 400 square kilometers, Angkor outperforms all its rivals.

Once you've seen the mysterious giant, smiling faces of Bayon, Banteay Srei carvings, jungle resume its place at Ta Prohn, you know immediately that you've just seen something surreal, incomparable , to none.

For all these reasons, the temples of Angkor became the lungs of the tourism industry in Cambodia, an industry that has the wind in its sails in the region of Siem Reap, which attracts thousands of daily visitors. And who says

tourist site says that people necessarily want to sell you business (really all kinds of stuff and business). And at Angkor, the people who want to sell you anything, they are many, many ... too many, too many.

Technically, the seller has no right to carry inside the temple site (although some seem to circumvent the rule rather easily, even before the police), but they are waiting for you farm outside the temple.

Whether visiting Angkor by bike, bus or tuktuk, beware. Once you set foot on their territory, the vultures are ready to attack.

The orchestra intones his preferred movement: "storm of cries endlessly crashing on tourists dazed." Sometimes a crescendo, in canon, in mid-major. But whatever the style, one thing remains, it smashes you eardrums (ears should stop you Siller four to five hours after your return to Siem Reap in the evening).

- Hello, sir, cold drink! You want a cold drink?
- Hello, two dollars for a guidebook.
- Hello, buy food from me.
- Hello, you need a t-shirt. I have many colors.
- Sir, you need a cold drink. Buy here.
- Sir, tablecloth, t-shirt, sarong, fridge magnet, necklass. Very good price for you.
- I have cold water, cold soft drinks. Look my menu. You hungry, I know!
- Sir, buy, buy, buy. Anything!
- Hello, me poor, poor, poor. Buy from me.

Grande, vieille, petite, enfant, jeune mère, adolescente, baryton, tenor, soprano Peu importe. Elles décochent toutes à un rythme effarant.

Quand vous encaissez une dizaine d'attaques à la minute, il est facile de perdre patience. But like the tuktuk drivers, the key is to take it with humor. After all, these people are just trying to earn a living and do not deserve to be treated as pygmies, and bazoutalènes cowards!

Humor, then. We must embark on the game, the Cambodians have a great sense of humor.

So for people who are thinking of visiting Cambodia and the temples of Angkor while enjoying the temples and people, here are some practical tips (Angkor Guide 101 ... weird, they do not sell on the site then), some responses that have either resulted in conversations unrelated to the product to sell, either completely blocked my interlocutors (because they thought kids, I must admit that their repartee is strong in your ... If your initial response is not convincing enough for them, they will replicate with an uppercut to the chin).

Q: Sir, you want to buy a guidebook?
A: Can I drink your guidebook? I do not want to read, I want to drink!
Editor's Note: Be careful not to be enough pie to answer this if you have a lady selling drinks in a radius of 30 meters (they also have very good ears).

Q: Sir, you want to Eat Something? Look my menu.
A: I do not want to eat rice or noodles. Purpose do you sell poutine? I would really like to eat a poutine right now!

Q: Sir, a sarong, a scarf, a necklass for your mother or your girlfriend?
A: My mom is dead. And I like men, I'm gay!
Ed: Response to half true in my case. And this one, we need a little play with a guy facing a bit offended.

Q: Sir, lot of stuff for you. Aerial postal cards?
A: I'm a professionnal photographer. I Took Those pictures!
Q: Guidebook?
A: I wrote all aussi The Guide about Angkor. I'm Indiana Jones. You Do not Recognize me Because I Do not Wear my hat today!
Q: T-shirt?
A: Im the boss of the t-shirt factory.
Q: Carvings?
A: I carve small replica of Angkor "during the weekend.

But as the saying goes, the best defense is attack. The best way to surprise your opponent is to attack first when he least expected, with the reply he waits the less.

- Lady, you buy from me. Cheap price for you my friend!

A home run for sure and possibly the best way to make friends at Angkor. As long as it is done with humor. Because nobody wins the game of selling frustrated because tourists frustrated.

Huge smiles, just like those found on the mysterious faces Bayon giants!

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My new idols


Tuktuk and motorbike. Two words that resonate or buzz in the ears of tourists visiting Southeast Asia. Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, as soon as you walk on the sidewalk, you are assailed on all sides by loud tuktuk, motorbike. Inescapable.

Although you analyze the sidewalk and trying to find a path free, you'll catch up with up to 12 seconds. It's as if you were in the middle of their hive. The path is clear on the right, quickly, we hurry ... bam, you're assaulted on the left. It's just they do not descend from heaven to Spiderman's asking you to board their vehicle.

few weeks ago, I told you about the hyper solicitation in the streets of Hanoi. In fact, it was before I set foot in Phnom Penh. In the Cambodian capital, we must double the bet. You get arrested 125 times in one day in Hanoi, Phnom Penh, count a good 250 times.

But if we can make a comparison at the pervasiveness of stress, we can establish one of the attitude of said drivers. Stop

very beginning, it's useless, it's over! The gold medal goes to Cambodian drivers. These are then Ceuze the best. Their attitude, good humor, infectious smile (this people is just amazing and words Cambodians and smile, good humor and sense of humor will be back often in my upcoming posts on this country) make drivers tuktuk The most adorable of all.

Personally, I'm not very tuktuk, much preferring the bike. One is cheaper. Two, it keeps me in shape. Three, it is less polluting. Easy to lose patience and not always easy to keep smiling when you have five people who you cry tuktuk same time.

A good trick is to keep the smile of humor when you respond to the driver. And that's where the Cambodians torchent competition soundly.

I tried the joke as far as Vietnam and Laos, without much success ... in fact, without any success.

- Tuktuk, my friend?
- No thank you Sir. I do not tuktuk. I walk I walk and bike bike. If I tuktuk, I like big fat fat Become Americans.

In Vietnam and Laos, the joke certainly was worth my face feel like a shit from the driver. It is where your sense of humor, guys?

Because when I do the same joke here, the laughs are instantaneous. Some drivers have even chained their laughter by taking Debaine with both hands and saying: "yes, like me!" Wow, definitely not on the same planet.

diz Nine times out, the little joke that broke the ice, it produces a very strange phenomenon ... Apparently they call it the human touch ... The tuktuk driver starts talking to me.

Although I came to tell him that I do not want to give my money in return for his services, the driver began the dicussion. And as we are in the World Cup, soccer often it chatters. Other drivers will join the dicussion and anything can easily take five minutes.

Wow, loved people who talk just for the sake of talking, interacting, learn a little about each other. The money aspect is removed and sold. We no longer speak of a driver who speaks with a tourist. We're talking about two people who exchange all.

And it all ends most often than not by a sincere handshake and yet another warm smile.

In Vietnam and Laos, especially in Vietnam, where I felt more like a portfolio than a human being for a month, 90% of discussions with the drivers come down to this ...

- Motobike, my friend?
- Response on fat and Americans ...
... Front of the driver feel like shit ...
- Motobike, my friend?
- No thank you.
- Motobike, my friend?
- No thank you.
- Motobike, my friend?
- No, I'm good thanks
- Motobike, my friend?
- No. I prefer to walk
- Motobike, my friend?
- No I Think I Can Handle Three blocks walking
- Motobike, my friend?
- ...
- Motobike, my friend?
- Motobike, my friend?

Seriously, dude, what are the odds that I'll say yes and I'm changing my tune after I told you no nine times in 20 seconds? My hand to fire than your current marketing and customer service in college, thou hast cast solid ...

Definitely not on the same planet. And definitely a lot of crust to eat before arriving at the ankle of your Cambodian colleagues, my new idols.

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Small summary of the latest adventures


Obviously, everything that happens to Sven can not officially become an adventure Sven belly. You still have not spoof. But do not fall into either and discrimination and all people.

Then for every story to be happy, here's a summary of all kinds of things that have happened over the last two weeks.

Then, during the two recent weeks, Sven: killing a snake, went camping in a tent in the dining room of a guesthouse, made a trip of 14 kilometers along a river in a giant cave, managed to fall asleep on a bag of rice in the middle of the aisle in a bus, almost crowned the camp down a drop of 120 meters high (I think it would hurt, that one), drinking coffee (yes, I drank coffee), eat really a lot of rice, paid $ 1.80 for one night in a bungalow on the edge of a river (not a record or not Cherat chérature), kept her clothes to go swimming (must be integrate into local culture) in the warm blue waters of a crater 800 meters in diameter created by a meteorite ago kind 700 000 years, drank a Fanta at lytchee nearly almost said yes (I think, yes) to tuktuk drivers and motorcycle that gave him the "laby boom boom" and "happy cigarettes" (you know like wanting to get into the shit where it does not necessarily get in the shit), bought a bottle of hunting mosquito who feels the chippies.

Well, now you know!

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Customs and small suitcases

Before crossing the border between Laos and Cambodia, I was handed a brochure of the organization Stay another day, an organization that promotes volunteerism among tourists.

Get involved, they said. Very beautiful message: help the community, give to the community, give back to the community ... Sven has a lot more money aside in his capacity as unemployed guy, but he said he'd like to give a little of his time and energy for the Emancipation of the Cambodian people.

After all, these people had a rough time and rebavé thanks to the genius of a Pol Pot.

I am immersed in my reading when we arrive at the border. A little clowning as staging.

We head to the checkpoint of the Lao dounane. The little man behind the window ensures that everyone is legal. Everything is beautiful, but we must go to the checkout. Each tourist leaving the country must give a dollar to the controller. Why? To be stamped "USED" on the visa.

Everyone knows that people who perform the movement is to stamp a document are at risk of contracting a very surbite (thank you Boom Boom).

25 tourists, it is hard-earned $ 25 in kind four minutes.

Step circus: the medical examination in the no-man's-land between Laos and Cambodia. The review is to take a kind of plastic gun, put it to the client's forehead and press a button. The revolutionary gadget is supposed to give the temperature of the customer. Those with fever can enter Cambodia. But as everyone points to 35.6 degrees, Cambodia is in no danger. Again "tcheching": $ 1 for "medical examination".

Like his colleague Lao, the clerk takes the ticket for a dollar each and Garroch, if not the Calisse in a large suitcase inscribed with POLICE in large letters.

Third, the station's visa. All tourists fill the application form visa on arrival. Visa cost: $ 23 U.S. ... dollars plus ... another dollar, which also ends its course in another nice big leather suitcase POLICE.

Technically, tourists by applying for a visa must provide a passport size photograph. Important to have a picture, they write throughout the travel guides. But well, in fact, it is not necessary to provide a photo. You pay two dollars more and the picture once so important an item suddenly becomes optional ...

I saw all those dollars to finish their race in suitcases POLICE ... for some reason, it made me think that I read the brochure the bus. All those beautiful concepts to help others, give back to the community, sharing the wealth ... while the police were filling the coffers at an incredible speed ...

Sven has a flaw: it tends to be a bit mushy and irreverent ... to ask questions that we should not ask people who do not like to ask questions. What do you see Sven likes this world Pogner nerves, just for fun to see people Pogner nerves.

In any other circumstance, Sven would have asked the police if the money we gave them as distributing candy on Halloween was returned to community or if they rustled in the pockets at the end of the day ...

But Sven has said he might be better to close it (the language, she shot about 268 times in my mouth), an issue to take off right his stay in Cambodia and have the right to enter Cambodia ...

Seems they call it wisdom ...

And it seems no cure. Shit!

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teeth, teeth everywhere, all the time teeth


Life sometimes sends you funny signs. Some are easy to understand and sometimes become some real mysteries.

The latest sign that life sends me very much in between the second category. I'm in search of meaning, but the answers come as fast as a snail on Prozac. Impossible to interpret.

Calling all, so maybe you'll be able to help me, who knows. I hope so because I'm starting to run out of ideas. You see, the equation is not the slightest.

Do you know how to interpret an overabundance of teeth? I admit, it's a bit strange as statement. But let me tell you how my last week in Laos was marked by a succession of episodes involving teeth.

Round 1: I enter a store to buy a bottle of water. Dehydrated, I rush to the fridge, I open the door, but when I try to get hold of the bottle, the woman who worked in the trade to prevent me, takes my arm and headed for a can Sprite.

Seeing that my options are limited and that the woman looks a little "delay", the only sound coming from his mouth more like a "hehummha" than the Laotian and j'obtempère takes the cop Sprite. My last move triggered an explosion of joy in me because the lady replied with the most beautiful smile, five teeth in the mouth, three up, two down ... and five good notes.

The initial shock passed, I pay for my drink ... what retrigger another explosion, even bigger than the last. The woman in my ears hug. The intense embrace lasts two minutes (I am aware that I am a strong sex symbol, but it appears that Mrs. your reaction is a tad premature! A little restraint, damn!) During the famous two minutes, the woman flatters me also arms me out the full range of its "hehummha" and gives me the full range of her smile piano notes.

Round 2: Two days later, I board a bus southbound. As is customary when you board a bus in the middle of the trail, there are no free schools, and you have to sit somewhere in the driveway. That day, I was lucky not to land on a small plastic chair, but on a huge bag of rice. Five hours without really being able to move on a rice bag, it hardens the butt and it makes the imagination work ... what to do to pass the time? Observe the people around me.

Again, as if some force had wanted me m'asseoie there, I was fortunate to fall alongside the phenomenon to my left. Its particularity is to be the king of toothpicks. I do not know if the guy preparing for a competition of more tireless Attorney teeth, one fact remains: the type was pastor teeth for 24 minutes! Yes, 24 minutes. And 7 toothpicks to pass, and ironing rerepasser from top to bottom, bottom to top, from left to right and from right to left. Fascinating!

Round 3: Three days later, I find myself on the island of Don Khong, near the Cambodian border. Then I read a little about my next destination, hundreds of villagers marched in the streets, some in traditional dress, some playing a musical instrument, some dancing on floats. I approach the action. A woman dressed Traditional dark to me. She obviously drank a little too laolao (rice whiskey), which probably explains why it grabs my face with both hands.

Like the woman in the store, it moos something incomprehensible that bears no resemblance to the Lao. But his words are more like "hoytopamoyfoceque" than "hehummha. Its surprised me cry, but not as much as the inside of his mouth: a thick, opaque layer midway between the ultra-violet and dark gray smoke from burning tires covered his palace, his tongue, his teeth ... as if she had drunk 24 liters of slush fermented pig's blood. " Hmmm, disgusting!

Round 4: Last day in Laos. Before taking the bus to Cambodia, I stopped to buy me a snack: an ear of roasted corn ... a pure delight. The lady in charge of the grill gives me my ear. I pay, she smiled at me ... Again, another sign. This time the woman has no teeth. Ironic, no, a woman of wind and corn that has nothing in his mouth to eat his ears ... certainly it will not eat his profit margin.

So here, the facts are exposed. Teeth over the teeth, above the teeth. Do not tell me this is just a coincidence, all these people and their teeth. So. It does that mean, then all those teeth?

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Welcome to the Jungle!


Do you know the village of Ban Nam Goy? Unless you were lying or do you specialize in the village of 93 souls in the mountains, without electricity and accessible only by river, your answer is no.

As we say in Quebec good, Ban Nam Goy is a strong backwater in the valley of Nam Ha, mountainous region of northwestern Laos. And to get there, you must want.

So with two guides (one speaking English, the other with a machete) knowing the area by heart as we venture in the thick jungle. Here, knowing the wood core is critical because without a guide and Quaife, you go, one, you lose. And two, after you lost, you will shout very loud "I'm lost, oh, I'm lost, help" and you will inevitably attract all the giant tarantula in the jungle and they will eat you.

After 40 minutes of transport, the mini-van stops.

- Here, loose guide pointing the peak further.
- What's the plan today, my captain?
- Up, up, up, up, up. Then Down, Then village ... six-hour walk
- Perfect, and what about tomorrow?
- Tomorrow, I do not tell you. If I tell you, you do not want to come.

first observation, the class to which the guides have learned to trust the tourists ... well obviously this, our guide had failed.

In second gear and we upupup the butt to the top. After a first 30 minutes relatively relaxed, the guide gives us each a machete nice little walking stick. The boldest of the group made a face "you have the face of a guy who needs a stick to climb the tite coast?"

I give him a face of "Heil the case, if the guide gives you a stick, maybe because you'll need it." Obviously, the sequel will prove me right.

The trip with trekking (sorry Anglicisms, but I think this sequence reads better in English) is that it's a bit like an episode of Virginia: the punches are still impossible to guess, and each episode is different.

Sometimes in the jungle, you're sues the pancreas through the pores so the humidity is oppressive. Sometimes it is 45 degrees in the shade. Sometimes you hold in mud up to their knees.

And sometimes, the coast is "at your peak." And today, the coast is "in your pic. 90 minutes without stopping in the Stairway to Heaven de la muerte. Thence lutilité stick, breaks it.

After 90 minutes of Stairmaster level 10 and after eating with our fingers, we begin a series of down, down, up, up which leads us to a beautiful little stream of seemingly peaceful. The location is perfect for rinsing the face, neck, head ...

- NOOOOO! hoarse
Guide - Do not stay there, move, walk, Leech!

viarge Ah, leeches. Everywhere along the creek. No luck, he must follow the river for 20 minutes. We all look beautiful bathroom breaks to watch our shoes and pants every 30 seconds to remove the slimy creature, disgusting, rampant and bloodthirsty ... using the famous stick ... Hence the use of the stick, break it!

After the St. Vitus dance (seriously, who is St. Vitus), we finally arrive at the village.

The scene is amazing. Only the river and the tiny forest trail connecting people around the world. We arrive at our "hotel", the guest house. Here, no fine ceramics at 500 dollars apiece. No, dirt floor and a wooden structure upon which a thin mattress. And a place to make fire and cook food ... as in every house in the village. And unfortunately for Paris Hilton, no bathroom granite. The shower is the River. And toilet, Turkish style dirty brown.

Time for a shower is an event. While falanga (we) take our shower leaving us floating in the water, the whole village lands in the water. For 30 minutes, all that is humanly possible to wash the cash goes: body, hair, teeth, dishes, clothes. The event is social, a tradition. Every day, at the same time, same place, the same villagers.

Supper time has come. We gather around the portable mini bamboo table (with mini benches that come with them). A nice dinner Candlelight. We eat with the assistant chief of the village. A 67 year old man born in this village and lives there still.

veteran out a bottle of laolao (rice whiskey). In turn, we do Offir a drink. While we drink the bottle, we ask the old man on life in the village: the tasks in the rice fields, swimming daily, traditions of the village, age of marriage, the village school, etc..

I do not understand clearly what the man said, but for some reason, I drink the words of the man ... like if I walked into a vortex. The only thing I see is the face of Veteran enlightened by his headlamp. Lap of the man to ask questions ... register is changed by cons: our name, our age, our jobs, our marital status. The moment is magical, unique. I just drank my sixth glass of laolao, my throat is hot ... the night will be good.

Before our departure the next morning, the man's dinner brings a wooden box: gifts to the village school. With pleasure.

Unfortunately, we have witnessed a disturbing scene which reminds us that no matter where you are on this planet, or Manhattan this village, the money has the power to make people lose the ball ...

The day before, we've all consumed beers and soft drinks. I have 34,000 kip ($ 4.50). I extend my ticket 50 000 kips, the only one I have, while the guide explains that the first 34 000 goes to the lady and the rest goes to fund schools. The other group members do the same: money for drinks and money to school. The villagers do not know what to do with money, others argue that we need more money for drinks. The guide tries to calm things down, without much success. He tries to explain that the first tranche pays for the drinks and that money goes into the petty cash.

But their system of calculation and inventory est inexistant... personne ne peut compter ce que nous avons acheté. Le guide est désespéré. Les villageois s'obstinent entre eux car nous aurions pris des boissons dans des sceaux différents, sceaux possédés par différentes personnes. Ceux à qui nous avons remis l'argent ne veulent pas pâyer les autres villageois qui demandent leur part du gâteau. Ils conservent l'argent et rien ne vas à la petite caisse de l'école. Nous sommes abattus, choqués, surpris, abasourdis. La scène est surréaliste, absurde.

J'ai envie de crier. "Merde, c'est pour éviter des brouilles du genre que l'argent doit aller dans la petite caisse de l'école". Mais nous sommes à des light years to perceive the situation the same way. Long-term investment vs. short-term survival.

Finally, we leave the village still in shock, but we quickly resume our minds as a little surprise waiting for us.

LEECH! The

calisses leeches. The day before, it was 15 minutes in the leeches ... today is two hours nonstop. Two hours of beautiful trails very muddy due to rain last night to inspect our shoes every 30 seconds to see if these foul creatures do not attack our skin, remove them with a stick or with a sheet when they are already position "blood sucking", trying to somehow avoid these demonic creatures.

After a dinner break free of leeches, but rather in the middle of a village of wasps, we return to the river and leeches. And as if it was to express, we spend three quarters of our time walking the trails completely obstructed by vegetation. Sometimes above, sometimes below, sometimes through (sometimes in place to realize that we are not really in our element and that the jungle does not really want to welcome the foreign element that ... has no business there, that's us).

Most often than not, the guide with a machete has no choice but leave her his instrument and get to work, a real Edward Scissorhands, this type.

The guide we were well advised that you should never stand still in a trail infested with leeches. But what do we do when we must not stand still and you can not move forward due to no road? We jump on the spot, being careful not to set foot on the fucking leeches.

Ok, if I had been filmed in action in the jungle, I would have looked like a good auntie to Charlie's video. Worse after? The episode of the leech in the jungle I became a true pro at Dance Revolution.

And when one day I'll be world champion Dance Revolution, I have a thought for the #%#$&??$& leeches in northern Laos.

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If Cleopatra had raised elephants


Think perfect bath. Probable cases that top the list, you think of the famous baths of Queen Cleopatra. A huge bath of lukewarm milk Annesse in which to lounge for hours. The ideal bath for the skin soft, silky and free from impurities.

Speaking of skin soft, silky and free from impurities, Have you ever seen the skin of an elephant? If yes, well, you know how the skin of this animal is anything but soft, silky and free from impurities.

The substance is difficult to describe a type of leather, half-hot half-cold very hairy, very dirty and very rough times.

Personally, I am convinced that the elephant is an animal refined and pretty who loves good food (he eats only leaves the cooler) and who loves good skin care ... which explains his love for swimming in the river and s'aroser boby-body with his trunk.

But the elephant has forgotten a minor detail and that's where Cleopatra would have changed the course of the history of pachyderms. Cleo was so became a student of elephants instead of playing with fefesses Caesar, it would have shown the importance of the animal to swim in a clean liquid.

Elephants would have asked again and to meet demand, Cleo would have created a horde of students of elephants and its teachings on personal care would have through the ages.

Unfortunately, this dream scenario never materialized for the animal who must now settle for dirty water.

I knew that the elephant bathing in these waters all but clear when, with my fellow expedition, we drove on the back of the animal, the elephant in the river to bathe in the afternoon.

I had the honor of being the biggest elephant in the group. But more large animal said larger "whole". I was hoping to own an elephant in person at the River. I flattered her head telling her stories of Cleopatra and telling him that I would give him the biggest bone he was nice. Nothing is enough to convince my beast.

At the moment he put the legs in water, the valves are open: un jet de pisse aussi puissant qu'un boyau de pompier (quand ton engin fait trois pieds de long par huit pouces de large, tu entres dans une catégorie supérieure de pisseur professionnel)pendant près d'une minute et neuf belles balles vertes grosses comme des noix de coco. Ploc, ploc, ploc (et non plouc... plouc, c'est pour les livraisons humaines... quand ce qui sort de ton anus pèse cinq livres, ça fait ploc dans l'eau!)

Et ainsi s'exécutèrent aussi ses compagnons à leur entrée dans l'eau. Bon appétit! Et que le fun commence!

L'animal se fait aller la trompe pendant que je suis sur son dos. Les boules vertes flottent et s'approchent dangeureusement de mon pied (25 inch ... 15-inch ... 10 inches ... 5 inches). I do not know where is the pee, but it is clearly in the vicinity.

-Tasse toé, dude, there's shit that floats around ....

Not a chance ...

Never mind, the elephant will "bathe" and I am the heir of 90% of the water that comes out of his trunk. The elephant tripe. Me too, but I am tripping a bit more if I was not surrounded by 17 balls of shit!

Hint, if you take one day at the event (which I highly recommend), do not open his mouth to yell at your friends that you just do Splasher solid ... the elephant probablement en train de préparer sa prochaine livraison et vous risquez de vous rincer la bouche avec autre chose que du Listerine. En toute circonstance, la bouche fermée et respirez par le nez.

Autre conseil, à votre retour à l'hôtel après votre petite expédition, lavez-vous au PC. Vous ne sentirez peut-être pas à quel point vous sentez mauvais. Mais après vous être fait asperger d'eau au moins 50 fois, vous être fait envoyer l'air fétide de la trompe une bonne trentaine fois et vous être fait éternuer dessus, je confirme que vous sentez la charogne.

Désolé Cléo, j'ai fait ce que j'ai pu...