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Published: August 25th 2009
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Sarah and I were up early after arriving at 2am from Chiang Mai ready to embark on the infamous “slow boat” journey down the Mekong. After hearing many tales from fellow travelers and friends we were intrigued by our upcoming journey. After we stepped off the boat, we found ourselves relaying similar travel advice about the slow boat, “you have to do it, but I wouldn’t do it again…” A combined total of 16 hours on a bench closing resembling a church pew, in the company of 180 devout followers of the bible (aka Lonely Planet) is not exactly a pilgrimage I would like to embark on more than once in my life.
Our journey began with crossing the Mekong to Lao to purchase our visas. It was all a bit chaotic, as with most transit points we have encountered, you always feel like you don’t quite have all the information and are not really sure where your meant to be and when. We waited patiently with onslaught of slow boat passengers that day and then were swiftly transferred to a Tuk Tuk that took us to our departure point. The slow boats original purpose was as a cargo boat;
most of them have only recently been outfitted with benches and now carry foreigners. The boats are meant to carry around 70 passengers; however they managed to cram close to 200 people on the boat. After much protest lead by a Swiss mother (reading in the lonely planet, if you protest they will get another boat), the captain merely ignored the shouts and pulled away from the river bank. Our trip had begun.
We slowly cruised down the river taking in the beautiful views of the surrounding jungle. After 8 hours on the boat, we stopped in a small town, Pak Beng for the night. The town was rugged at best and seemed to be sustained by the constant flow of travelers off the slow boat. Sarah and I had booked a room before embarking on the slow boat and were happy to have a place to lie down. Unfortunately later that night I began to feel ill as well, making the next day’s trip on the slow boat slightly less enjoyable.
The next day I settled in on the floor of the boat, nestled in between discarded chip bags, backpacks and stinky shoes. However, it was much
more comfortable than the wooden benches. That day we rescued some locals from a “fast boat” that had hit something in the river and split the boat in two. The people were clinging to the branches at the edge of the river with their belongings bobbing down the river. Luckily we were passing and were able to retrieve them and bring them to safety. The “fast boat” is also an option for travelers but takes half the time, and is slightly more dangerous. They provide each person with a full-on crash helmet and everyone then holds on for the life for 6 hours.
We arrived in Luang Prabang in the early evening and quickly chose a hostel. We were driven with some our fellow slow boat companions to the hostel, unsurprisingly a group of Brits and Irish. We all went for a wonder around the local market that night and then went in search of some grub. We ended up at a local bar, set back from the road in amongst the trees.
Luang Prabang is a UNESCO World Heritage site and is a beautiful town with undeniable French feel. The French having colonized Lao have left their
mark with beautiful old shop fronts and buildings that have now been turned into hotels and guesthouses. Still feeling under the weather, our first day was relatively low key. We wondered around the town and scoped out some of the local Wats and observed the many monks that roamed the city. We met back up with our new found friends for a few drinks. We took the opportunity to try out the Chiang towers, a tall apparatus with a tap, and a great way for a group of people to share a round of beer.
The next day feeling in much higher spirits, Sarah and I decided to check out the Royal Palace Museum and also a Wat that was set high atop a mountain for a view over the town and the winding Mekong. Before the museum was open for the afternoon, Sarah and I found ourselves negotiating in the midday heat over a dozen silk scarves in every colour you could imagine.
Sarah and I decided to leave later that night, as we had met a great group of British girls who were heading down to Vang Vieng. We all got along well and thought it
best to have a gang to do the infamous tubing, yet another backpacker rite of passage. We arrived in Vang Vieng around midnight and settled into Pan’s Place our hostel for the next few days.
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