Day 288 - loving and loathing in Laos

Of any country I’ve considered visiting on this trip I think Laos is the one that I’ve heard the most mixed reactions about … and they always seem to be at one of the extremes - it’s either loved or loathed. Peaceful Unspoiled Paradise or Impossible Communist Backwater. The really annoying thing is none of this had helped me make my mind up on whether or not to go… But with just over a week apart from Sarah whilst she was meeting friends in Thailand, and concerned that I might just miss out on something if I didn’t go for a look… I decided I couldn’t say no.

Forming any kind of real impression in just a week is always going to be tough - even for opinionated me. So, in the hope that I may well be able to get back to south and/or eastern Laos later on in my travels, I decided to concentrate purely on a smallish area in the north and hope that it gave me a flavour for it.

So an overnight bus north from Bangkok took me straight up to the Thai/Laos border at Nong Khai. By the following lunchtime I was in the capital of Laos - Vientiane.

I’d been doing a bit of research on the way up and decided that, given the tight timescale, I was going to give Vientiane a miss - it didn’t sound like there would be a lot to hold my attention and I felt my time would be better spent getting my cultural fix in the smaller and more historically significant town of Luang Prabang. I also by-passed the backpacker town of Vang Vieng - in another life (or possibly another mood) this may have had some appeal to me but I’d been told that, although scenic, it’s essentially a town to relax and/or party in, with the main highlight being to spend 6 hours a day floating down a river sitting in a rubber ring whilst slowly getting wasted on Beer Lao. If I’d had more time I may have been tempted, but to be honest I’ve been getting so much more out of the cultural side of this trip that, what with the really rich, colourful and at times tragic history of Laos to be explored, I couldn’t bear the thought of even spending one minute there.

So after a beautifully scenic, but painfully uncomfortable bus marathon the length of which brought back memories of Argentina, I arrived, absolutely exhausted, in Luang Prabang.

Hostels such as I’ve known them so far don’t seem to exist in Laos - the popular place to stay is guesthouses. Here they’re kind of like B&B’s but without the breakfast and homely charm. The one I found in my exhausted stupor also seemed to have dispensed with regular maintenance, the result of which was a bathroom that far too accurately resembled the one from the movie “Saw”. But it was cheap, the bed was comfortable and so I slept like a baby before heading out the next morning to explore.

The town of Luang Prabang is a cultural gem - quite rightly deserving of its award as a UNESCO World Heritage site. Situated where the majestic River Mekong is joined by the Nam Khan, it’s a town full to bursting with Buddhist temples, some dating from 1513 and the majority of them still housing many of the saffron-robed Monks or Novices who can be seen going about their daily life in the town and lending it a serene and spiritual air. In addition, everywhere you look there are beautiful old buildings with shuttered windows that hark back to the days of Colonial French Indo-China a hundred years ago. Luang Prabang is also the traditional seat of the old Laos Monarchy - The Royal Palace having been occupied until 1975 when the Communist Government, after taking power following the Civil War, ousted the King and sent him and his family to a communist re-education work camp where he and his lineage died. It’s in the former palace that there’s now a museum containing amongst other artefacts the Phra Bang - a Holy Golden Buddha - the most sacred Buddhist image in Laos, which according to local lore was cast in Ceylon sometime between the 1st and 9th Century.

And so I spent a happy couple of days visiting the sights, soaking up the culture and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere of the town. Breakfasts always included excellent baguettes (another hangover from the French colonial days), the mornings were spent wandering around the various temples (or Wats to give them the correct name) and seeing the monks going about daily life. I took lunch overlooking the gentle goings-on of the Mekong River and escaped the afternoon heat and humidity by spending a few hours reading in the shaded gardens of the temple opposite my guesthouse (finally getting more up to speed on my South East Asian history). Evenings are when the town really comes to life and I’d spend the time wandering the excellent night market that sets up in front of the Palace at dusk, and eating at the various food stalls that run down toward the Mekong.

But if I’ve painted an idyllic image so far, I have to point out that, much like the bathroom in my guesthouse, all was not smelling of roses.

Sadly for me and my love of the great escape, the one thing that is immediately apparent about Laos (perhaps particularly so in Luang Prabang) is that it’s not the undiscovered Shangri-La that people (and guidebooks) would have you believe… “It’s like Thailand was twenty years ago” I’d heard on several occasions. Well so it seems has everyone else - because Laos (or at least its best bits) is now seriously touristy.

Gap year students and backpackers on the South East Asian circuit spill from the boats that come down the Mekong from northern Thailand, before the majority head south to relax in Vang Vieng and beyond. These are supplemented by large groups of tourist holiday makers who drive down from China or fly in from further afield for a serious look at the history before moving on to who knows where.

Luang Prabang has a plethora of travel agents and adventure companies lining its main street. Dozens of them. All offering basically the same trekking, kayaking and elephant riding experiences in the surrounding areas. The words “Tuk Tuk?” are constantly shouted across the street by drivers intent on bagging a fare. And drugs are surreptitiously offered by shady characters on street corners. At first I was appalled that amongst all this history and in such blatant contrast to the quiet, meditative and disciplined soul of the town, escapism-tourism could have established such a hold. But hey the locals are just trying to make money… and after all, I’m here trying to have a look too.

And “trying” really is the operative word of that sentence. For the other thing you very quickly learn in Laos is that you have to throw any kind of a plan based on normal time out of the window - this place is seriously slow… and I’ve been to the Caribbean. In a strange paradox that highlights how quickly things have changed, the one thing that hasn’t caught up with mainstream tourism is the transport infrastructure. The slogan the Department of Tourism uses in all its marketing is “Laos: Stay Another Day”… thanks to the transport network - on more than one occasion I had no choice.

From Luang Prabang my plan was to journey over to The Plain of Jars - a historic plain full of ancient jars but more significantly the start of an area of Eastern Laos where the USA, during the 10-year so-called “Secret War” in the late 1960’s/early 1970’s, dropped over 2,000,000 tonnes of bombs on and around the Ho Chi Minh Trail - awarding Laos the distinctive title of most bombed country per capita in history. From there I wanted to head up north for some trekking in the hill-tribe area of Muang Sing, followed by a trip back down the Mekong River to the Thai border. Unfortunately I soon realised that, with transport such as it is, this ambitious a trip just wasn’t going to cut it in the time I had. So I had to accept that the Plain of Jars would have to be missed, and that the best I was going to get was a trip up to Nong Khiaw, followed by a couple of days trekking near the villages there, before returning to Luang Prabang.

And I was happy with that. Except after a lovely journey up to Nong Khiaw and a night in Muang Ngoi Neua, I turned up to meet the trek guide at 7.30am the next morning only to be told that a few of the group had cancelled and so we couldn’t go. Probably it’s exactly what I deserved for booking with a company called “White Elephant” (although I have to stress that it really wasn’t their fault and they were very apologetic as they gave me my money back). So, consoling myself that I’d had some amazing trekking on this trip already and that there should be other opportunities further down the line, I headed back to Luang Prabang for a night, and decided to take the slow boat up the Mekong to Hauy Xai and back into northern Thailand.

This was a journey I’d read about in a few people’s blogs and had been dreading ever since I made the decision to come to Laos - although it sounds very romantic, apparently it can be two days of agony sat on the equivalent of church pews with over 100 people crammed onto a boat built for 60. And as if that’s not bad enough I’d heard some horror stories of very basic accommodation on offer in the evening stopover town of Pak Beng. Unfortunately there aren’t any roads and the only other options to where I wanted to go were either an extremely expensive flight, or a deafeningly noisy speed boat where you’re wedged into a small seat for 7 hours and given a crash helmet. Apparently because the river is that low and full of debris that a lot of the time they do indeed crash.

In actual fact the slow boat trip turned out to be a real delight, the boat being virtually empty apart from myself and 8 other travellers plus a few locals. Despite the uncomfortable pews (which no matter what combination of positions you put them into or sat on them in, didn’t get any comfier) we whiled away the two days - gazing out at the rustic Laos river lifestyle, swapping stories and reading… lots of reading. And surprisingly even Pak Beng turned out to be much better than expected: I actually had a clean bathroom for a change - even if the town’s generators did shut down at 10.30pm leaving me stuck in the shower in total darkness thinking about “Saw” again.

Once I’d accepted that there really is no point to rushing around Laos and once I’d managed to ignore the other travellers and tourists that are here in droves, I actually really fell in love with the place - the beautiful scenery, tragic history, friendly people and rich culture are captivating. There is some truth in the saying that it’s like Thailand was 20 years ago (not that I saw Thailand 20 years ago) - I think Laos must be the most undeveloped country I’ve visited on this trip (Nicaragua or Bolivia a close second) and that’s something that’s drawn me to it. Despite living memory for its citizens including mild colonial rule, some appalling treatment by the West (and by that I really mean the USA during the Vietnam War), followed as a result by over 20 years of communist suppression, there’s still a very real feeling of innocence, openness and charm to the place.

I only hope that it doesn’t now start to fade as tourism, amongst the various other forms of development, continues to pick up. But at any rate I’ll definitely be one that’s coming back regardless.



Laos Slideshow

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