Laos bound

Having brutishly dismissed the package deal offers to get us from Pai to Laos as stuff of the Farang, we decided to make the journey across the border (and into Laos) independently, which for the sake of £10, may have been a slightly overly budget conscious decision. Luckily I had read many blogs promising a painless and relatively quick journey, and so we set off, full of adventurous spirit and ready to glare at any ticket office workers who dared inform us there were no spaces on their buses.

The former part of these promises pertained at least 50% accuracy, as the next 4 days spent on tuk tuks, sleeper buses, boats and songthaews, were, in fact, surprisingly enjoyable and we managed to visit some interesting locations along the way. However, on the flipside, it was also 4 consecutive days where nothing apart from movement from one location to another was accomplished. Here is a brief summary of these four days;

Day 1 – sometimes, in order to move forwards, you have to take a few steps back. Thus was the justification for finding ourselves firstly back in Pai (having been dropped off post trecking) and then today, on the bus even further south (and away from Laos) to Chiang Mai, the second location we visited in Thailand. Not thrilled with our slightly counterintuitive border retreat, we were convinced it would be worth it as once in Chiang Mai we would be able to take a bus to Chiang Rai and then finally finish our journey off from there by finding a much cheaper local bus to Chiang Khong, the border town before Laos (good luck trying not to get confused by all the Chiang’s).

We arrived at the Chiang Rai bus station at 5:15, ready to sail off into the sunset on a no frills budget vessel. Unfortunately, however, we then discovered that the last bus had left at 5, and so we had just about arrived to see the bus driver waving goodbye as he left us in his smoke, much to the delight of various Thai taxi drivers who saw this as a fantastic entrepreneurial opportunity. Eventually we managed to convey the message that we couldn’t afford a £5 pad Thai let alone a £70 taxi, and despite repeated attempts to push us into their taxis we managed to make it out of the bus station unscathed. Determined not to let this get us down we headed in search of a hostel and some food to calm the red mist of bus fury which had started to cloud around us.

Day 2 – having accepted this initial complication, we decided to try and use it to our advantage by visiting the famous white temple of Chiang Rai, built by a Thai artist out of his own pocket as an homage to all things pure and Buddhist, we were excited to explore, if a bit dubious about the expected crowds. Thankfully the temple was stunning, and we spent a very enjoyable morning admiring the ornate details – whilst simultaneously regretting not bringing sunglasses thanks to the glaring white surfaces, and glittery coruscant detailing.

Temple completed, we managed (this time) to successfully board a bus to the border town of Chiang Khong, where we blitzed our way through various visa procedures, passport photos in one hand and dollars in the other, in a slightly odd akimbo of organisation. A few hours of weird border procedures and extortionate 50 metre tuk tuk journeys passed (as you cannot physically walk across the border) and we had officially planted our feet in Laos.

We quickly found a guest house that had been recommended to us, which had a stunning view over the muddy Mekong. A few sunset beers were enjoyed with some local Lao food – both of which were paid for with our newly acquired Lao Kip, a currency which has suffered dutifully at the hands of hyperinflation – thoroughly confusing an already mathematically challenged duo to no end, still, some comfort in becoming a millionaire in under 5 minutes. An early night followed – in lieu of an even earlier rise for the start of the 2 day boat journey to Luang Prabang, and into the heart of Laos.

Day 3 – Thus marked the start of the boat journey, which we had managed to book through our hostel for around 220,000 kip (approx £17). We arose early to acquire a) some snacks for the 7 hour journey and b) find some good seats on the boat, to ensure we wouldn’t find ourselves located near the fabled engine room, land of all things loud smoky and sooty. Eventually we made our way aboard, and after some tactical seat swapping we found ourselves perfectly located, also reunited with our new neighbours, a triplet of Canadians we’d met in Pai. Thus commenced the 7 hour Mekong descent, which was beautiful (and only slightly hindered by the sonorous clamouring emanating from the engine room), as we twisted through limestone peaks, small fishing villages, river rapids and jungle alike – all the while chatting, playing cards, and enjoying the more malty and slightly stronger Beer Lao, which at half the price, had sent Thailand’s Chang beer packing in a watery and less flavour filled dismissal.

The journey in itself was slightly farcical, in so far as the boat was filled with travellers from completely different backgrounds and countries, wedged together for 7 hours of forced interaction, which led for some comical conversations between hardcore 50 year old brexiteers, 70 year old Swiss pensioners and 18 year old free spirited dreadlocked Israeli travellers. Several embarrassing drunk renditions of wonder wall ensued from the Newcastle party, much to Finlay and my embarrassment on behalf of the country. Needless to say, my school remained an unnamed secondary school in Windsor.

Eventually we made it to Pakbeng, a small town which existed almost entirely as a stepping stone on the boat journey to Luang Prabang, with some nice accommodation and decent restaurants. We proceeded to eat at an Indian restaurant, which made Finlay the happiest I think I’ve seen him so far – two butter chicken curries were quickly consumed, and we set off to explore the (now dark) town. Highlights include the search for a loo, which somehow ended with us in a military training camp surrounded by confused soldiers, I’m still not sure who was scared of who more, although to be fair they did have guns on their side, needless to say, they won the stare off and we were quickly escorted to the exit. The night ended at Happy bar, which although scarcely populated, was quite good fun.

Day 4 – we reveille’d for the second day of our boat journey we set off in a slightly less organised manor than the night before, arriving this time 5 minutes before departure. This was a catastrophic lapse in judgement, as we quickly found ourselves not on seats, but instead – small plastic stalls wedged in the middle aisle of the already very full boat. This meant we now not only had no space of our own, but also allowed no space for other people to walk down the boat. Having secured our new reputations as public enemy number one (and two), we were surprised to see even more backpackers turning up, which set off a chain reaction of commotion as the Thai boat captain tried to fold them inside the engine room, much to the complaints of the subjects and the other people on the boat who were now dealing with quite a stressful situation. Eventually he quit his bluff and rightfully agreed a second boat may indeed have to be employed, despite many promises that we would all fit on the one, and so the lanky English walkway blockade was removed and we hopped over onto our new, much more spacious boat. I guess we had the last laugh, as Finlay and I stretched out across our new cushioned benches.

The rest of the day was very enjoyable, and perhaps even more pretty, the views generally speak for themselves, and we eventually found ourselves in Luang Prabang, the final stop on our boat and the second biggest city in Laos (still with a population of only 400,000). Eventually we found ourselves a hostel room and settled in for the next few days of exploring the colonial architecture, food and nearby waterfalls.

Luang Prabang(ing) – after some umming and ahhing we eventually found ourselves staying at ‘Chill riverside hostel’ which lived up all three parts of it’s triple barrelled name, therefore ticking almost all our required boxes and securing reputation as our favourite hostel so far. The next few days were spent absorbing the views from viewpoints, drawing, making new friends and walking around town – I particularly enjoyed playing ‘if I was a french colonialist, which villa would I want to rule Laos from’, the winner being a quaint cream house, located next to a temple – with olive shutters and wooden detailing, combined with carefully manicured banana leafs outside, the photo shown below doesn’t quite do it justice.

The highlight of Luang Prabang was without a doubt Kuang Si falls, which according to many is in the top 3 best waterfalls in the world. It was, in fact, so good that I went 2 days running (partially due to a severely food poisoned Finlay who was unable to make it the first day). The second day was probably more enjoyable, as we had a task at hand; that being our own recreation of Alex Garland’s ‘the beach’. We had heard via word of mouth, that if you take the less travelled path to the right of the waterfall, and start climbing up it, there should be a small exit to the left about halfway up, partially blocked by barbed wire and bamboo trunks. This should then bring you to the top of the waterfall, where we were sung promises of untraveled aquamarine waters and views straight down the towering waterfall and onto the unsuspecting tourists below. Sure enough, we managed to find the hidden path – and the morning was spent relaxing in our newly acquired private blue heaven.

An otherwise perfect day was only slightly burdened by the disappearance of our bus to take us back. This was really quite frustrating, and we tried to employ several Lao men to call our hostel (who we booked the trip through) and berate the bus driver for his speedy take off, fortunately (for our own sake) none of these phone calls went through; as we quickly realised there did in fact exist another car park, and perhaps it was not the ineptitude of the bus driver that had led us down this path of misfortune – but, instead, our forgetful recollection of where we agreed to meet afterwards. We sheepishly retreated in to a tuk tuk, despite my best cost efficient pleas with Finlay to hitch hike.

Eventually we decided we had peaked in Luang Prabang and headed onwards to Vang Vieng, a town who’s reputation proceeded it – essentially Vang Vieng was once the capital of hedonism in south east Asia, with around 100 bars along the river, where most of the day was to be spent tubing and drinking. Unfortunately around 5 years ago 6 tourists died in a year from drink/drugs and so the police cracked down and the government have tried to force new means of income from the town in the form of more organic and sustainable tourism. However, we had heard from several other travellers that the town was currently in the limbo phase between the two, leaving a sort of post apocalyptic party husk, where neither party (if you’ll excuse the pun) really benefited. Nevertheless, we set off (once again via bus) and despite the drivers best efforts to split Finlay and I up, we made it intact to Vang vieng some 5 hours later. It was striking to see the mountainous ridges slowly popping up in the horizon the closer we got, which made for an enjoyable drive.

Vang vieng – our first impressions of the town, resonated very much with the aforementioned rumours, and we checked into an almost entirely empty Nana hostel and set off for a walk and in search of a smoothie, or some other people, as the town was pretty much desolate.

By the time the evening came around all our questions re scarcity of people were answered, and the nitties slowly began crawling out of the woodwork. It turns out that at Nana’s hostel, the only time of day where people are awake is 7pm onwards (when the free vodka and whisky starts) and the day is spent recovering in hungover hibernation. Here we met up with a bunch of friends from the boat, including Luna, Kiro, Jana and Lia.

The next 3 days were a bit of a blur, the only certainty being that they passed. Vague memories do exist, highlights include one of the most bizarre encounters so far, between a Preying mantis and an Australian bloke, who decided his face would make a good home for the next 10 hours of the Mantis’s existence, much to the delight of various intoxicated chants of, ‘Straya’s got a Mantis’, as-well as him trying to use his new pet as an arthropodal wingman by approaching ladies and asking them if they wanted to kiss his Mantis, or if they would like to host his six legged friend on their bikini for any amount of time – an interaction that was made far more confusing by the sober discovery the next morning that he has a girlfriend, and that she was with him during the tubing trip – definite dog house behaviour.

Another confusing feature about this hostel was the amount of people that got arrested, initially Finlay and I reacted with quite some shock while eating breakfast at our hostel and seeing the police parade two tourists around in cuffs. However this became less of a novelty when each morning we would hear of two or three people getting arrested and/or deported. We remained vigilantly on guard (when awake). The first time it was such a shock that I took a photo, which I rapidly regretted 1 hour later when I found out that Lao police will also arrest and charge for the same crimes any onlookers who take photos or videos. In the wild Wild East, the iPhone is the greatest weapon of all, and I’m now on the run from the law.

Eventually we retreaded with around 10 friends to magic monkey hostel, where the last 2 days have been spent lounging, swimming, enjoying the views, and hiking to nearby viewpoints. We are currently debating our departure time to Vientiane, the main prospect of the visit to the capital city being organisation of our Vietnam visa’s. Desperately in search of warm clothes, as the forecast has just informed us of 14 degree temperatures in Hanoi, the Slazenger shorts just aren’t going to cut it.