Laos Laos Land

End of April to mid May, 2006

After a Thai whiskey-fuelled night spent with a bunch of fellow border-crossers in the little border town of Chiang Khong, I left my guesthouse, (and the rudest guesthouse owner I had encountered on my trip so far), and got on a little longtail boat to cross the river into Laos.

Following the usual process of being passed around immigration officials, boat company employees, "guides" and people trying to sell guesthouse rooms and the like, we were all poured onto our slow boat down the Mekong River to Luang Prabang. "Slow" means that it takes two days, overnighting in a little town called Pakbeng but mainly sitting on tiny "Asian person" sized wooden benches. The prudent and forewarned had brought cushions, but mainly people just stretched out on the floor in any available spaces, and just made the best of it. Stacey, who had already freely admitted to princess tendencies, just strung up her lovely orange hammock between two posts and made herself very comfortable!

The boat ride was actually very enjoyable, and much better than the alternative "fast" boat. That method delivers you to Luang Prabang in about eight hours, but you spend the time crouched in a tiny speed boat wearing a crash helmet, bouncing up and down on the Mekong River unable to talk over the noise or really enjoy the scenery. Our boat had some good people on it, many of whom I would continue bumping into during the next few weeks as I travelled south through Laos.

The overnight in Pakbeng was interesting, and my first real taste of Laos. People had described Laos to me as probably what Thailand was like 40 years ago, before tourism really took off there. For me though, Laos was characterised by the feeling that many Laotians seemed to have recently enjoyed the opium for which northern Laos, (part of the "Golden Triangle"), is famous for. This relaxed, spacey, good-natured state of mind amongst locals was in part responsible for numerous slightly surreal situations we experienced, and came to refer to as "Laos Moments".

The first such moment came when Stacey and I were having dinner in Pakbeng. Most of the town was candlelit, (the government only allow the town electricity for a few hours each evening, although people do use generators), and the restaurant was quite dark. Our young Laotian waiter came across and stood by the table for a moment, looking at us silently as we looked at him. Eventually he leaned forward, and in a low conspiratorial whisper which in these circumstances would usually herald an offer of drugs or perhaps a prostitute, he asked..... "Would you like another beer?". No thanks fellah, but I'll try some of whatever you've had.

Perhaps it was us that were having a strange effect on the locals. Earlier in the day, when we had just got off the boat and Stacey was carrying her bundled-up orange hammock through the town, we noticed we were getting some odd looks from people. The owner of our guesthouse, who was walking with us, pointed out that the colour of the hammock was exactly that of the saffron robes of a Buddhist monk, and the rope hanging off it was like the rope belt a monk might wear. Since women aren't allowed to touch monks, or even sit next to them on the bus, the idea that Stacey had not only left a monk naked somewhere but stolen his robes was more than a little disturbing for the townspeople.

After a brief night's sleep in Pakbeng, (roosters everywhere, and they don't bother to wait until dawn), the wonderful Mekong scenery continued and I learned at least two new card games which I instantly forgot, (which is why I don't bother traveling with playing cards). When we reached Luang Prabang everyone filed off the front of the boat down a narrow rickety gang-plank, and as I passed I saw a couple of my fellow passengers on the floor, tied to the bow. The enormous lizards were destined for someone's pot, as were the (barely alive) chickens that had been languishing, feet tied to each other, near the stiflingly hot engine for the entire journey.

Luang Prabang is a very pretty town, with a nice wat (Buddhist temple) on top of a hill in the middle of the town. Walking around the town, Stacey and I met some local kids who, for some reason, had dyed a badgeresque black stripe on the head of their much loved but long-suffering dog. Like most kids in southeast Asia, they were very excited to have their picture taken. Unlike Indian kids, however, they didn't then try to charge us for it afterwards...

There are also beautiful waterfalls near Luang Prabang which we visited on a day trip, with some wonderful little bears and a tiger in enclosures nearby. The town also has a surprisingly cool bar called The Hive, the inside of which looks like something you'd find in Shoreditch. They sold a cheap local vodka called, imaginatively, Laos Laos Vodka, which we swear had strange stimulant properties....

After a few days we moved on further south to Vang Vieng, which involved a bus journey on the first of many so-called "chicken buses" that I would take in the poorer parts of southeast Asia. There were no chickens on this particular bus, (that I could see anyway), but other than that it was a classic chicken bus, with uncomfy seats that came apart when you moved in them, gaping rust holes and rattles from every part of its structure. There was also a local passenger, (or maybe a bus company employee, it was hard to tell), handing out shots of local whiskey in a makeshift plastic beaker to the whole bus! The purpose of this I think was to counteract the nerves generally felt on board, as the driver threw this old rust-bucket around the tight bends on the narrow mountain roads of highway 13 like he really didn't mind if he saw another day or not. Apparently they leave it up to Buddha to decide whether they, (and we), get there in one piece...

Another thing that jangled a few nerves on the bus was the reputation that the mountainous parts of highway 13 have for the armed robbery of buses. A few years ago, there were several instances of buses being held up by bandits or insurgents, (depending on who you ask), and foreigners being shot. There were armed guys on our bus - police or bus employees? Again hard to tell, as no-one was wearing a uniform. However at one point in the mountains the bus did slow down, without stopping, for a wad of money to be handed out the window to a guy sitting by the side of the road with an automatic weapon. Protection money? Who knows. All I know is that we got to Vang Vieng without incident.

Vang Vieng is a funny little town. It seems to consist almost entirely of cafes which show DVDs of "Friends" on constant rotation to young travellers who, reclining on cushions on the floor, watch with glazed expressions. It suited Stacey though, she sat and giggled through numerous episodes during several meals we had in such places and, I have to admit, if you want bubblegum for the mind then Friends isn't such a bad choice. The roads in Vang Vieng are just mud tracks, and the mode of transport of choice for the average citizen is basically a two-stroke rotivator engine on wheels, strapped to a cart. I don't know what they're called, but they worked and we liked them!

Vang Vieng's other main attraction is tubing on the Nam Ngum river. This involves being driven upstream with an inflated tractor tyre inner tube, sitting in it and simply floating downstream, through calm slow waters and mini rapids. A wonderfully simple pleasure, and so good that Stacey and I did it two days in a row! On the way downstream there are numerous people on the riverbank selling Beer Laos, (the national brew, and really very good), or turns on their rope slide or swing into the water. One downside of tubing is that it's easy to forget that you're actually sitting in the sun for several hours, so it's easy to burn, (which we did). The other downside is that if you forget to close your waterproof diving bag properly, the river will come in and shaft your lovely digital camera. Hmmm. Thankfully the photos were salvageable, I would just have to shell out for a new camera in Vientiane...

To leave Vang Vieng Stacey and I took a trip down the river towards the capital Vientiane, this time partly by truck and partly by kayak. I was reminded that, in fact, kayaking is hard work! I figured that as Stacey was Canadian she did this sort of thing all the time, but apparently not. My arms and back were aching after about 40 minutes, (maybe Stacey was adopting her princess role again and not paddling properly when she was sitting behind me!). It was a very pleasant trip though, with some beautiful river to paddle down.

Not so pleasant however, was the truck ride into Vientiane after kayaking when I was suddenly struck down with a horrible sickness. On top of the people on the kayaking trip, the truck had now filled up with locals hitching a ride into town, and all I could do was hang my head over the side of the truck in case I puked as I hovered near to passing out for an hour or so. When we got to Vientiane, I was good for nothing other than sitting with our bags feeling sorry for myself while Stacey ran around securing accommodation. Sometimes it's so good to not be travelling on your own...... (the above photo was taken before the truck became really rammed, and before the onset of nausea!).

Vientiane was the funniest capital city I have ever been to. In any other country, it would just pass for a sleepy little provincial town but in Laos it came as no surprise that this place really was the capital. However, it did have The Scandinavian Bakery, an oasis of proper breads, sandwiches with real cheese in them, (none of that processed "La Vache Qui Rit" nonsense which they try to pass off for cheese in southeast Asia), great coffee, cornflakes with cold milk and more! Every day that I woke up in Vientiane, I ate breakfast there. It's funny how the mundane becomes exiting when you're denied access to it.

Stacey had to go back into Thailand to make her way home, but I then met up again with Finnish Susanna who I had met on the trek in Thailand. We spent a couple more days in Vientiane, discovering and enjoying their ancient but fully-functioning bowling alley, before continuing south through Laos by local chicken bus. Next stop was Savannahket, about which all I can say is that it was very hot and there is a dinosaur museum. The museum was closed without explanation; we were very disappointed...

After Savannahket came Pakse, about which I can say even less. Apparently it has a market, but we didn't find it. The search wasn't helped by the fact that it was so hot you couldn't walk outside for more than five minutes without having to stop for a bottle of water and a cornetto...

Susanna and I then continued south, (more buses, more chickens), to Si Phan Don (Four Thousand Islands), a picturesque collection of river islands of various sizes where the Mekong fans out in southern Laos, near the border with Cambodia. We stayed in a beautiful wooden guesthouse on the biggest island of Don Khong, and spent most of our time just slowing the pace right down, taking bicycle rides around the island, reading in hammocks, eating and drinking. One day we took a day boat trip to see the smaller islands and other nearby areas, where there was some beautiful scenery and waterfalls you could swim in.

So after a few days chilling by the Mekong, we headed further south to cross into Cambodia. The only apparent way to do this was to buy a minibus ticket from a particular guesthouse owner on Don Khong, and you could tell that he knew that he was the only game in town by the non-negotiable $15US price tag! That would get us down to Stung Treng, the first major town across the border.

So we set off on this trip, which developed into the classic southeast Asian journey involving people directing you from pillar to post without explanation, several changes of vehicle and every vehicle crammed to the gunnels with people, luggage and cargo. It got even more interesting at the border crossing near the town of Voen Kham. The crossing consisted of two small wooden shacks in the jungle, one for Laos immigration and another for their Cambodian counterparts, separated by a hundred metres of rough roadway through some jungle.

A "guide" appeared from somewhere, explaining that everyone on the bus, (all travellers, no locals), had to give him their passports so that he could arrange Cambodian visas. A natural sense of scepticism, and the fact that we had already obtained our visas in Vientiane, meant that Susanna and I kept ours in our pockets. The "guide" then took money off everyone else; some for the visa, some for the "gift' for the Laoatian border guards and inevitably, somewhere in the mix, some for himself. I tried to approach the border post myself, but he stopped me and I ended up giving our "gifts" to the guards via him. He got $1US each from us, not the $2US he was pushing for, although no doubt my "gift" was even smaller by the time it was passed on.

A further "gift" of $2US for the guards on the Cambodian side was again negotiated down to $1US, (at least they were wearing uniform and had made an effort to look like border guards, unlike their Laotian counterparts!). I don't quite know what happens if you refuse to pay the bribe, I guess they just let you linger in no-man's-land between the two countries. Anyway, it was goodbye to the quirky charms of Laos, hello to the slightly rougher edge of Cambodia....