Archive for the 'Laos' Category
There are long, uncomfortable journeys, and then there was the first boat ride I took from Luang Prabang to Pakbeng, on my way to Houayxai. I made the mistake of going out a little too long and late the night before, and was already starting the trip tired and somewhat hungover. But my biggest mistake was not bringing food. Every other long trip I have been on has either offered food for sale or stopped somewhere along the way, but not this one. I wasn’t the only one unpleasantly surprised by this.
The choice of seats was between a hard, wooden bench, and a small car seat backseat that had been removed and placed in the back. I chose one of the car seats, as at least they were padded. Being so tired I did manage to drift in and out of a restless sleep along the way. I did meet a Canadian girl (Kelly) who was doing the same days at the Gibbon Experience as me, and funnily enough she was feeling about the same level of misery as well, and because of that we didn’t talk much that day. When we arrived in Pakbeng, we went and found a guest house and had a much appreciated dinner together, but were both so exhausted that we went to bed almost immediately after.
The next day brought another long boat trip, taking us the rest of the way to Houayxai and again about 9 hours. The night’s sleep helped immensely, as well as the many snacks and large lunch I packed this time. When buying food in the morning, I had about 5000 kip in change left over (US $0.50) and wanted to buy a snack with it. I stopped at a little food stand, and tried to buy chips, some crackers, and a candy bar, but all were too much. About to leave, I noticed the stack of bananas and asked how many I could get for 5000. The woman handed me about 2 dozen. I had to laugh.
We finally arrived, got a hotel room for the night, and found the office for the Gibbon Experience to check in. This was the 3 day tour I had come to Houayxai specifically for, after hearing so many great things from other travelers going all the way back to the well-traveled British girl I had met in Korea. We’d be staying in tree-houses inside the Bokeo Nature Preserve for 2 nights, using ziplines high over the canopy to get between the houses. They went over the basics of what we’d need to bring and what to expect, and asked us to kindly pay our money. Once that was taken care of, we went back to the room and got to bed, as we had an early start the next morning.
In the middle of the night, it started to rain. Hard. When we got up around 6:30, it was still raining hard. This was a bad sign, as there is a river to cross in order to get to the starting point, and though the Land Cruiser that was to take us in was fully equipped to drive through the river with a snorkel intake and massive tires, if the river gets too high even that can’t get through and instead of a 1-2 hour walk we end up with around an 8 hour one. And that’s exactly what happened. In addition, the river still has to be crossed, and though the path we were on comes to a point where it is significantly lower, there’s no bridge.
We began already somewhat wet from the rain, which had finally lightened up a bit. After a half an hour, we reached the river and wadded through the waist-deep water, now thoroughly soaked, including inside our shoes, with 8 or so hours of hiking ahead. The trek was long and mostly uphill, the ground a sticky, clay-based mud that clumped onto shoes and added several pounds of weight to each step. We kept up a steady pace the whole time, and eventually 7 or so hours later, reached a village at the start of the thicker jungle. This was the spot at which the truck would have dropped us off, had it made it through. We waded across another stream, and now the real trek began.
While before we’d been on what was effectively a mud road, now we were on a narrow jungle trail, winding its way uphill. The mud was usually ankle-deep, and the parts going downhill were slippery enough to cause more than a few spills. An hour and a half later, we finally arrived at the the base house. We were each given a harness and shown the basics of how to use it, and then we divided up into two groups, one for each of the treehouses we’d be sleeping in. Treehouse 1, the closer and larger option, held 6, and into this went the 3 couples in the group, one American, one Scottish, and one Dutch. Treehouse 3 took the 4 singles, a Portuguese guy (Marcelo), British woman (Tanya), and Kelly, as well as myself. We didn’t realize when we decided to take this option how much further it was to Treehouse 3.
We walked a bit further up and took our first ride on a zipline to Treehouse 1. It was short and not very high up, and a good introduction to the grounds. We left the couples to get settled in, and immediately caught another zipline to continue on. We hiked a bit up a hill and then clipped onto the “long zip”. We got up to the platform and I saw what he meant: I couldn’t even see where it ended. Clipping onto this metal wire hundreds of feet above the ground and coasting out like that was scary and amazing and fantastic at the same time. It took nearly an entire minute to cover the length of the wire, and as I went I had a fantastic view of the surrounding jungle lit by dwindling twilight.
Unfortunately after this zip we had to walk about another 45 minutes to get to Treehouse 3, which by this point in the day wasn’t something any of us were looking forward to. When we finally arrived, the luxury of our accommodation was a pleasant surprise. Our treehouse had two very soft mattresses with thick mosquito nets, running, drinkable water, a shower (cold of course) and plenty of food for the night. We all had quick, refreshing showers and settled down to eat a hearty meal of meats and various vegetables prepared in Lao style. In the shower I found a nice big bloody spot on my leg where a leech had gorged itself, but I was too tired and hungry to care. Finishing dinner saw us all ready for a long sleep, and I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next morning we woke to the unfortunate realization that it had been raining quite hard all night, and our early morning breakfast delivery was unable to be made. The guide who had stayed with us took off to go back to Treehouse 1 and get us food, and told us to wait. After almost 2 hours passed without word, we were all starving and not sure what to do. I decided to go look for the guide, and got harnessed up and set off to find him. As soon as my feet touched down on the platform at the end of the zip away from our house, a I heard a “Hello!”, and looked to my right just in time to see our guide zip off towards the house with a pack full of food on his back. Needless to say, I quickly followed him.
After breakfast, Marcelo and I set off to explore the grounds. While set up as an eco-tourism project to encourage awareness of the endangered gibbons that live in the area, what everyone comes away from the Gibbon Experience talking about are the ziplines. We spent most of the day just trekking around and doing the various zips over and over, making videos and taking pictures. Each line only goes one way, so all the lines we had done the day before had return lines we had not yet done. The return line for the long zip was particularly cool, as it was a good 30 feet higher than the one we had done, and a bit longer as well.
Eventually our day of playing in the trees like a bunch of kids came to a close, and we all gathered at Treehouse 1 for dinner. The food was once again excellent, some of the best I had in Laos funnily enough. After dinner we set off on the zips and long trek back to Treehouse 3, and settled in for the night. Again, 2 leeches decided that my feet were an excellent feeding spot. No one else seemed to get any either, though I did manage to avoid getting the blisters and scores of mosquito bites that most others were suffering from, so I’ll call it even.
The next morning we awoke, gathered our things, and set off back to Treehouse 1 for our final breakfast. Our time in the trees seemed to have passed too quickly, and I would really like to go back one day, though maybe in a dryer time of year! Following breakfast we set off for the potentially long hike back to the car, not knowing if it had crossed the river and would be waiting for us or not. None of us were looking forward to another 8 hour hike, albeit mostly downhill this time. Fortunately, about 2 hours into the hike, the car came rumbling around a bend full of new guests, greeted by our shouts of joy. It passed by, dropped them off, and returned, covering the distance we had done in 2 hours in about 15 minutes. We piled in and set off, and in another 45 minutes were driving through the river (which came up to the windows on the Land Cruiser, that was pretty rad) and onto the paved road, on our way back.
We arrived back in Houayxai tired and filthy, but everyone was still reveling in how much fun we’d had. Marcelo and I were both heading to Thailand on the next leg of our journey, and decided to cross the river into Chiang Kong, as Houayxai sits right on the Thai border. Facilities in Thailand are a bit more modern and comfortable than Laos, and we were happy to stay dirty a bit longer to get across. We bid the others farewell, caught a small ferry across the river, and were in Chiang Kong in a clean little bungalow guest house before I knew it.
The next morning Marcelo caught a bus all the way down to Bangkok on his way to the Full Moon Party in Koh Pha Ngan, while I was off to Chiang Mai.
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The Gibbon Experience, Laos
The bus journey to Luang Prabang was mostly uneventful, as we made our way through the winding hills of northern Laos. The scenery and driving conditions reminded me somewhat of the journey from Kathmandu to Pokara in Nepal, as massive green hills rolled by, the occasional small village breaking up the completely untouched natural scenery.
Upon our arrival, the group I was with had to split into two tuk-tuks because of the size. I ended up in one with two Canadian girls, while the rest were in another. We arrived in the Old Town area quickly, and a passing old man on a bike offered us a look at his guest house where he had two rooms, a single and a double, left. It was quaint and perfect, situated just near the river, and only $5 a night for a room, so we took it. After dropping off my stuff I went to find the others and see if they found a place as well. Apparently we had taken the last two rooms in the entire area, as hordes of people with backpacks were walking around the area being turned away from every guesthouse they tried for lack of rooms, most of the group I had come with among them. They had to settle for a place about 10 minutes away, though still very nice and even a little cheaper.
For our first day in town we set out to see a local waterfall and the Buddha caves, the two main attractions in the area, other than the wonderfully serene city of Luang Prabang itself. The Buddha caves were something of a disappointment, a cave on the other side of the river filled with a bunch of broken statues that had been taken from various temples in the area when they became too worn to use. The whole thing felt like it was constructed for the tourists, as at every step of the way there was someone else to collect another dollar or two from you for admission or a ferry ride or renting a flashlight. Later, walking around the city, I saw a local tour office, run by a Canadian man, that had a sign listing the “Do’s and Don’ts of Luang Prabang”. Number one on the list: Avoid the Buddha Caves.
The waterfall, on the other hand, was wonderful. Unfortunately, I realized that I had forgotten my camera of all things that day. Frankly I’m surprised I haven’t forgotten it more often with how absent minded I can get in my rush out the door sometimes, so you’ll have to settle for my description of it. Hopefully I can get in touch with the people I went with and borrow their photos.
The falls consisted of several levels, descending into turquoise pools, some of which were open for swimming. There was also a path going up the side, leading all the way to the top. Upon climbing up here, I found myself alone (for some reason no one else I was with wanted to climb up the precarious, rocky, slippery path that was more like a mountainside) in a shaded lagoon that was surprisingly calm considering just a few feet away a torrent of water fell a couple hundred feet. There was a wooden railing over the side of the fall, and when you waded out into the pool and leaned over it you could see all the way down the falls.
I came down and found all my friends swimming in the pools at the foot of the cliffs. After climbing up and down the side of the falls in the afternoon heat, I was ready for a swim too. We hung around for a couple hours in the various pools that were open for swimming and one that wasn’t, finding rocks that were located near the deeper parts and jumping off of them. On our way out we came across a couple cages where a rescued tiger and several jungle bears lived. The bears seemed quite happy to lounge around in their new caged fort, but the tiger paced back and forth restlessly. While it was a little sad to see it locked up like this, the pictures of how it looked when they found it (a cub who’s mother had been shot and due to disease had lost most of it’s fur), it’s probably ultimately better off, and certainly couldn’t go back into the wild now.
That evening we had a rather lavish night on the town. There are several good bars full of westerners in Luang Prabang and I think we visited all of them. One thing about Laos is that everywhere you go, bars always close by 11:30, if not 11:00 pm. This is pretty early by bar standards, and it usually means that cities are dead by midnight. In Luang Prabang, however, the locals have decided to do something about it: all-night bowling. For some reason, there is a bowling alley that stays open all night, serving drinks to westerners and locals alike, a few of which are lucky enough to score a game on one of the lanes. Most are there for the drinks, however. I did manage to get into a lane for one game, though it was close to 3:00 am by that point and all the drinks didn’t turn me into a very good bowler.
The next day was a lazy one. I woke not feeling so great after a late night, and didn’t really get going until close to lunch time. I had a leisurely breakfast/lunch, went on the internet for an hour or so, got a massage, and had a nap. That evening I booked a tour with the same company that had the informative Do’s and Don’ts sign, two days of mountain-biking and kayaking in the nearby countryside. I ran into the group I had been with over the previous days at the market, and they informed me they were off the next morning to another area in the north-east. We had dinner and said our goodbyes, and I went to bed early.
Being that my previous day had been lazy and unproductive for the most part, I woke early the next morning determined to see at least some of the sights in the city. There are a number of temples, including one on a large hill in the center of the Old Town, and the former Royal Palace. Unfortunately, for some reason the palace was closed when I got there. I walked across the street and climbed up the hill to the temple on top. The view of the city and surrounding rivers was a pleasant way to spend a half hour or so, and then I went down the other side. The rest of the day I just walked around the city, peeking into a few temples but none were anything much different than many I’d seen before. I had another early night, as my outdoor adventure began early the next morning.
On my arrival at the tour office the next day, I met the others in the group I’d be journeying with and got a quick refresher course in the proper operation of a mountain-bike, our vehicle of choice for the first day. My fellow travelers were two Canadian girls, a Polish guy (Pieter), a young English couple, and a Columbian girl (Angela), all around my age except the Brits who were the babies in the groups at around 19.
We piled ourselves and the bikes into a pickup and had a bumpy ninety-minute drive to our starting point. We arrived in the village, got on the bikes, and were off. The trail wasn’t too hard, basically a dirt road through the mountains, though some of the hills were quite steep and had us huffing and puffing by the top. After about an hour of biking it started to rain. Hard. We ran for cover at the first village we encountered, hoping like most of the monsoon storms it would pass as quickly as it had begun. Unfortunately, this one decided to stick around for a while. We decided to press on in the rain, and were underway again.
We stopped at the halfway point for lunch, in a small village and rested for a bit. The rains had finally lightened somewhat, and it was easy to see some people were already exhausted. Eventually we got going again, and the rain kept up with us but didn’t really pick up again. We got to the village we’d be staying the night in around 4:00 pm, and washed up in the river, while our guides went and caught a couple ducks for our dinner. We lounged around our makeshift guest house for the night, a stilted house like the rest in the village, hungry and tired and relaxed. Eventually the guides came and roused us for dinner, after which we all fell asleep quite early.
The next morning we were up early, fed, and split up into pairs, each pair getting a large kayak. The plan for the day was to kayak back to about the halfway point of the day before, around 17 km back the way we came. None of us had much experience kayaking in a river before, but the guides assured us the river was fairly calm and there were only a few mild rapids.
I paired up with Pieter, and while we both felt much more confident on the mountain bikes the day before than we did in a kayak on rapids, we were ready to take on the new challenge. We started off the first leg of the journey, everyone doing great. The first few rapids we passed through were exhilarating, but we made it through unscathed. Eventually the one of the guides yelled out from the front “Careful, big rapid ahead!” and we all were on our guard. Being in the back steering and braking, I tried to remember what they had told us at the beginning about taking rapids straight on and not getting turned.
We came around a bend and quickly the river was moving us forward faster and faster, and entered the rapids almost as soon as we saw them. These were definitely a different class than what we had encountered before, and having never done something like this before it was a bit frightening. Between the two of us, however, we navigated them successfully and emerged, soaked but triumphant.
In the next set of rapid we were not so lucky. Again the guide called out “Big rapid ahead!” and we felt a little cocky this time, we managed before so this should be no problem. These rapids, however, included a sharp bend in the river. Going through rapids, trying to keep the kayak pointed into the waves, while turning around a bend proved to be too much, and at a particularly strong point, we lost our balance and flipped. Fortunately we were almost at the end, and we just had to hold on until the white-water ended, flip the kayak back over, and climb back in. Again we were off.
The rest of the trip proceeded nearly without incident, until the end. We stopped for lunch at a small patch of sand along the river, and the guide told us that up ahead was the last patch of big rapids, split into two sections. A little more humbled by our last experience, Pieter and I got ourselves ready for the final leg. We set off and soon enough came to the rapids. We navigated the first part successfully, while behind us the two Canadian girls grazed a rock and flipped over, but emerged at the end safe and sound.
Right before we hit the second patch, our guide yelled out “Watch out for big bamboo!” In the final patch of rapids, we saw what he meant, as a massive branch of bamboo stuck out into the side of the river. He had, however, told us this too late for us to change to the other side to avoid it, and no matter how hard we paddled, the rapids were bringing us right into it. Rather than get completely cut and maimed by the tree, we flipped the kayak on our own and took our chances in the rapids again. Emerging safely once again, we made our way to the end of our river journey. A truck was waiting for us, along with a bunch of local kids, and after loading up the kayaks, the truck drove us back to Luang Prabang, with the kids running after us as long as they could.
That night we all met up for a few drinks and laughs about the trip, and even hit up bowling again for a while. Eventually I got back to sleep for a few hours in preparation for a long boat ride the next day, beginning my two day journey to Houayxai in the north.
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Luang Prabang, Laos
Departing nearly 3 hours late, the “afternoon bus” to Vang Vieng arrived in the early evening full of tired and hungry travelers. Fortunately, this was the one city in Laos that had a listing on the hostelbookers.com site, so I had booked a nice guest house booked and waiting for me, and was able to get settled quickly. I’d made friends with a group of other travelers on the bus (a Welsh girl Amelia, a couple from New Zealand Ben & Nic, and a British girl Becka), and we met for dinner with another friend of theirs, a South African guy named Shane, to discuss our plan for the next day: tubing.
To say Vang Vieng is a bizarre place is something of an understatement. The landscape is quite similar to that of Yangshuo in China, huge limestone peaks jutting up between jungle and rice paddies, with a river cutting down the middle. Similarly, the local town has gone from barely on the map to an entirely backpacker oriented setup, with guesthouses and western bars on every block. Vang Vieng, however, has taken things even further.
For whatever reason nearly every bar in town is constantly showing episodes of the TV show ‘Friends’. At the main intersection in town, in fact, there are 3 bars at various corners, and if you go to one bar, you can still hear the episodes playing in the other two!
The really strange activity that’s sprung up is the aforementioned tubing down the river. For $4 you can rent a large inner-tube and get a ride a ways up the river. You then get onto said tube and ride the current down, stopping at the 8 or 9 bars that have been built along the way. As you get close to each one, someone from the bar will wade out a little ways and throw a big bamboo stick on a rope out to you, effectively fishing you into their bar. Once inside you have a beer with the number of other westerners and all talk about how silly and fun this is, while taking turns swinging on the large rope swings into the river.
A little over halfway through, one of the bars has become pretty large, with two sand volleyball courts, a number of small huts to sit in, a swing about 50 feet high, and a DJ playing loud dance music. Looking around at all the tan, good-looking, and drunk westerners dancing in the sun, I felt like I was on MTV’s Spring Break, albeit in Laos.
After the bars there is a good 45 minutes of just floating on the river in your tube, watching the beautiful scenery and clouds drift by. After several Beer Laos and a number of complimentary Lao-Lao shots (local rice whiskey), the sudden quiet and stillness of the stunning landscape felt almost dream-like. Eventually we came back to Vang Vieng, and a massive sign, obviously meant for drunk people to see in any state, told us to get out in the most direct way possible: “STOP TUBING!”
The next day, while most of the group I was with had so much fun they decided to go tubing again (and I’ll admit I considered it), one of the girls, , and named Audrey and I decided to rent mountain bikes and ride around the countryside. The roads were tough and the hills were steep, and being that the day was even hotter than usual, we were happy to make it to our main destination for the day, the Blue Lagoon. We got in and had a swim with some locals in the bright blue pool, and the surprisingly cool water was refreshing.
After the lagoon we rode to a cave in the side of one of the mountains. The ride itself was much more rewarding than the destination this time, along a narrow path that snaked through the jungle and along the borders of sprawling rice paddies. Upon arriving, a precarious bamboo ladder led the way up to some mud and rock stairs into the cave. Audrey decided her flip flops weren’t up to the task, so I made the climb alone. It was just as well, aside from a massive spider, the cave was pretty small and uninteresting.
Speaking of large bugs, at the foot of the cave we also saw some massive giant centipedes, well over a foot long, purplish-red in color with bright yellow legs. I’d seen pictures of things like these on the internet and been terrified of them, and the real thing is even worse. I knew they had large bugs in this area, and most don’t bother me too much, but these things are another story. Just great.
We came back exhausted from our ride and plunked down for a late lunch in one of the Friends’ bars, and spent the rest of the day being lazy. The next day all of us were going to catch a bus north to Luang Prabang. The rest of the group had come back from tubing just as tired as we were, and when we tried to “go out” for the night, we all had about half a beer and were ready for bed.
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Vang Vieng, Laos
The term “sleeper bus” has been thrown around by a lot of tour companies I’ve encountered on this trip. Usually, it just refers to a bus that runs at night, and you do your best to sleep on the seats. Sometimes, the seats recline and are a bit larger, but the principle is basically the same. This time, however, the bus I got from Pakse to Vientiane came equipped with rows of bunk beds. Of course, getting one of these twin sized beds to yourself, that were about a foot too short for someone of my height, would mean that the bus company would be losing out on potential revenue. So I spent the night trying to find a comfortable sleeping position in a tiny bed with a small Lao man sleeping next to me, his entire family jammed into the bed below. Though things didn’t get much better when they got off at the 4am stop before everyone else; now I was constantly being rolled back and forth as our driver swerved around corners and past slower vehicles.
Arriving in the capital of Laos, I got into a tuk-tuk and asked to be taken to one of the nicer hotels in town. Being that I’d only be staying one night, a bit of luxury sounded perfect, and for $25 a night I’d have the equivalent of something that would cost more than ten times as much at home.
Most of the day, after getting settled, I spent walking around the city. At least to the extent that I could. Almost every road in town was under some state of construction, the majority were completely torn up with large trenches being dug for pipes and cables. I visited one of the more famous temples in town, Wat Sisaket, and then around the Royal Palace, though there was no way to get past the gates and see inside.
People I’d met in Laos thus far, who had come in the opposite direction of me, had warned me that Vientiane isn’t much of a tourist attraction, and I had to agree. The city was certainly charming, especially the river-front and the countless examples of colonial French architecture. As a tourist with limited time, however, I got the sense that spending one day or a week wouldn’t really matter: Vientiane is a city you’d have to live in to really understand and enjoy. When you travel, deciding how and where to spend your time is constantly a battle, and I was happy for once to be somewhere that made the decision easy
The next morning I did a little more sightseeing and shopping. I visited the Patouxi, Vientiane’s answer to the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, and then to the massive Morning Market. After grabbing a staple Beer Lao shirt that it seems no traveler can leave the country without (probably the best Asian beer I’ve yet had), I got back to my hotel to catch an afternoon bus to Vang Vieng.
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Vientiane, Laos
I was glad to get the experience of the Lao definition of a local bus in a short 3 hour stint from Don Det to Pakse. Here the term applies to what is essentially a large pickup truck with 3 benches going the long way, railings on the side and a metal roof over the top, and is called a Sangthaw. Space is cramped and shared with locals of all ages, chickens, freshly caught fish, and large bags of various crops. I was the only westerner on board (most people opt to spend an extra $3 for the VIP minibus, but I wanted to try out the local way).
Arriving in Pakse I was greeted with a new experience for Southeast Asia: usually bus stations are teeming with tuk-tuk drivers and other touts wanting to grab you to sell you a tour or book accommodation, or get money from you somehow. I arrived in the late morning to find no one waiting. The locals who had been on the bus with me dispersed quickly, and I was nearly alone in the large dirt lot that served as a bus station. Walking in the direction of my intended guest house, I eventually found a group of tuk-tuks under the shade of a large tree, the drivers asleep inside. The Lao people have the demeaning reputation among other Asian cultures as being extremely lazy. It seems that prejudice is not entirely unfounded. I roused one of the drivers and he begrudgingly gave me a ride to the guest house, where I secured a bed for the night and arranged a sleeper bus the next night to the capital city of Vientiane.
While having lunch a British girl, Jenna, I had met in Vietnam, and run into again in Cambodia, walked by with another girl and saw me. They stopped to eat with me and it turned out they were staying in the same guest house. I told them about my plans for the next day, to rent a motorbike and drive down to Wat Phou. Jenna thought it sounded like fun, and asked to join me. She wasn’t too excited about the idea of driving a motorbike herself. Given my extensive experience in driving a motorbike through Asia (1 day in Cambodia counts right?), I volunteered to drive us both on one bike.
We set off fairly early the next morning so I could make it back in time for my sleeper bus. The ride was fairly uneventful, driving through town in a bit of traffic was an interesting experience, but we slowly managed to make our way out and hit the open road. After an exhilarating 30 minutes or so of cruising, we turned into a little town and caught a motorbike-ferry across a river. On the other side, we continued for a bit and arrived at Wat Phou.
The largest Angkor complex outside of Cambodia, Wat Phou conveys a much different feeling than the temples across the border to the south. The combination of only a handful of visitors other than us, and the degree of vestigial growth that encroached on the site, ready to reclaim the land, created a much more spiritual experience. Wat Phou is built into the side of a small mountain, and feels like a part of the land rather than built on top of it.
We spent a couple hours wandering through the grounds, and the better part of another waiting under cover while a heavy monsoon deluge covered the area. Finally, when the rain had stopped and the sun appeared almost as immediately as it had vanished, we got back on the bike and set off home.
The journey back was as fun as the way there. This was the first time I had really ridden a bike at a decent speed (in Cambodia they didn’t have helmets to offer so we kept things calm), and the feeling of going around 60mph with the wind in your face is an exhilarating experience. I don’t think I’ll be rushing to drive motorbikes all the time now, certainly not through big cities, but maybe a few more times in Asia, in the right setting. We arrived back at the guest house in time for dinner, and I grabbed my pack, said bye to Jenna, and set off for the sleeper bus to Vientiane, the capital of Laos.
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Wat Phou, Laos
The trip into Laos was somewhat predictably slow. We had to change buses about 4 times, taking two ferries in between, and finally a small boat to Don Det island. The introduction to Laos seemed fitting, our guide fell asleep waiting for us at the border and we were left standing around for about 45 minutes. Finally he found us, got us to the driver, and promptly handed us each a beer, along with 2 for himself, and say “Cheers! Welcome!” And we were off. Until about 15 minutes later when we ran out of gas. We got out and walked over to some locals in a small hut who were happy to have us hanging out, though no one spoke English of course, we were an interesting sight for the day. Finally a motorbike arrived with a can of gas, and again we were off towards the boat.
Arriving on the island, we were dropped off in a small village on the northern tip and I set out to find a guest house. I looked through a few, finally finding a good one on the recommendation of a couple girls I ran into, and got settled in just in time for one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen.
The 4000 Islands area, Si Phan Dong, is a group of small islands (I don’t think there are really 4000, just a lot) in the Mekong river in the south of Laos. Some of the larger ones are populated with villages, and a few have decided to make good on Laos’ blossoming tourist industry by building guest houses, really just huts along the riverbank. Most of them are nothing special, basic facilities for cheap prices, but the atmosphere is what draws in the people. Swaying palm trees line most of the islands, and the interior is bright green, covered with rice paddies.
I spent the next day walking around the island, Don Det, on which I was staying and enjoying the scenery. There is an old railroad bridge to a nearby island, Don Khon, which is a leftover from when the French ruled this area and were trying to establish a trade center here. The rails are all but gone, but the bridge remains, as well as an old steam locomotive sitting on some tracks just as you arrive on Don Khon. I walked around the island for a few hours, saw a waterfall that was more of a series of rapids crashing down a hillside rather than a sheer cliff of water, and then walked back for some lunch.
In the afternoon I joined up with a German family on a sunset “cruise” around the islands. The four of us got into the boat belong to the old woman running the tour, and she had enlisted the help of three young local boys to carry all the supplies and provide entertainment (I don’t think the latter was in the original job description, but they were eager to have fun).
The boat drifted slowly through the islands in the hot afternoon sun, and after about an hour we arrived at a small village on one of the smaller islands. We went under the house of some locals while our guide helped them prepare a BBQ of fresh fish and vegetables and we walked around a bit.
We came back just as the food was ready, and had a delicious meal of grilled catfish of some kind, onions, pineapple, and tomatoes. After dinner the sun was getting lower, and we got back in the boat. The woman took us all to a tiny island, not more than 20 feet across, that was entirely sand, a “private beach”. We got out and the boys all jumped in the water and starting playing around, so the rest of us followed suit. As another beautiful sunset set the backdrop, the German father and I took turns throwing the kids up in the air as high as we could, helping them do back flips, and trying to see who could swim the fastest. Eventually it was time to head back and a great day came to an end.
In the morning I caught a local bus up to the provincial capital of Pakxe. In Laos, a local bus is really nothing more than a large pickup with 3 rows of benches going longways in the back and an overhead covering to keep out the rain and hold luggage. I was the only westerner there, sharing my journey with loads of freshly caught fish and a number of chickens, in addition to the locals who all looked at me like I was crazy (there’s a private mini-bus that does the same trip for a couple extra dollars, but where’s the fun in that?). I was glad the trip only took a couple hours though, and by the time we reached Pakxe I was aching to stretch my legs.