Bus trip to Udomxai and Phongsali

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The following morning I got to the bus station at 7:50 to find that their were no seats on the bus and even the plastic stools in the isle had been sold out. Being a once daily service, this meant a day in Udomxai, which even the guide book, usually pretty positive, described in less than glowing terms. I wandered up the main street (actually, the only street) and found myself agreeing with the guidebook. On a more positive note, I found the best hotel in town and booked myself in for a $15 night of comfort, aircon, room service, and free breakfast. This crap little town is surrounded by idyllic mountains that would be great for trekking if that was what I wanted to do there, but all I wanted to do was get out of the place. TV’s a great time waster.

I received great service at breakfast, which was when I realized I was the only guest in the hotel. I guess being the best hotel in a town where nobody with any money ever goes isn’t a great business idea.

I managed to score a seat half way down the bus and we headed off shortly after 9am.

We stopped for lunch at a small town at the confluence of two rivers where I discovered that the local fare on which I was to survive for the next week or so wasn’t the best cuisine in the world. I didn’t actually plan on eating, but a couple of locals waved me over to join them and generously shared their meal of unidentifiable buffalo parts, rat, and sticky rice with me. I love sticky rice, but didn’t get very far through the rest of the fare.

I also avoided drinking too much water because I didn’t know how long it would be between toilet breaks. I needn’t have worried; we had our first flat tyre an hour after lunch and a second two hours later. The bus pulled into a small but very picturesque village to repair the two tyres and gave us a two hour break to wander around the French colonial ruins or, as most of the locals did, squat in the shade and wait with the patience that only a lifetime of living in Laos could teach.

I explored the ruins of a French barracks with Thuli, an English speaking Lao girl running her own garment business on a buying trip, and was amazed at how nature had almost destroyed the remnants of a century of French colonialism after only 67 years.

After the break we headed into mountain country on dirt roads where the absence of a rear window on the bus, which we had appreciated for the first half of the journey for acting as a natural fan, became more of a curse as it sucked in clouds of fine dust and dressed us all in a light brown uniform. We all moved towards the front of the bus to escape the choking dust, but another missing window near the front created a bit of a wind tunnel and ensured we all enjoyed the benefit of a fine layer of topsoil.

The gazetted eight hour journey took most of the sixteen hours that I had cynically expected and we arrived at Phongsaly terminal at midnight. I joined the locals in a songtheiw to town and found the Phongsaly Hotel, the premier hotel in Phongsaly, where rooms cost six dollars a night. It also has the best looking staff because it is home to the only nightlife in Phongsaly and, subsequently, the best looking hookers, who double as staff in the hotel.

I was up at 8am for the only western breakfast in Phongsaly and spent two hours wandering around the capital city of Phongsaly Province. I had originally set aside the whole day for exploring the city, but was already retracing my steps in less than two hours. City is a very generous description of this provisional outpost for public servants in the most remote part of Laos. It is also the most scenic provincial capital, with amazing views over the surrounding countryside or, more common at this time of year, a view over a sea of low clouds with mountains rising up like mountainous islands in a tumultuous white sea.

I had been invited to a wedding by a guy on the bus and was to meet him at 7:30 outside my hotel, but, as I half expected, he didn’t show up, so I wandered around town looking for a restaurant open after 9pm. Not a one. Eventually I stumbled onto a hole-in-the-wall drinking place and three guys invited me to join them in their whiskey and food. The Chinese whiskey was ok and I had a choice of rat stew, offal, and buffalo stomach. I avoided the offal and the rat stew tasted like rat, so I stuck to the buffalo stomach. Yeach.

I joined the guys again the following evening for the national day celebration, which consisted of drinking crap loads of beer and dining on the local specialty: raw buffalo offal. Yeach. Fortunately they also had sticky rice and condiments. The guy next to me who spoke English pretty well admitted that he too was scared to try the raw offal.

Once we had finished eating and the inevitable karaoke began, three of us headed out to a more seedy joint with great views and very very average girls, with whom they suggested I may want to spend a sweaty half hour in the back room. I’m not a prude, and don’t often say no to sex, but I guess my complete disinterest in the girl next to me must have registered and we headed back to the party after a couple of beers.

Heading around Laos on the back of motorcycles isn’t all that safe, especially when much bigger than the guy driving, who may happen to be very drunk. Fortunately we weren’t going very fast when the inevitable happened and I only skinned one of my knees and ruined my 200 baht of trousers.

Back at the party I got introduced (very reluctantly) as the next singer. The band, not knowing any English songs, couldn’t help me out, so I sang “The Grand Old Duke of York” with all the actions. I was sufficiently entertaining to get a round of applause and atrocious enough as a singer not to be asked to sing another song. Strategic incompetence.

I didn’t get much done the following two days because it was the national holiday and the whole place was closed down except, as everywhere in this part of the world, karaoke bars and whore houses. I spent the day at my hotel and met three Dutch guys driving around northern Laos on motorbikes. We were all very happy to have a chat about the place because we were the only four tourists in Phongsaly.

I finally got around to going to the tourist office and booking a guided trek (more adventurous travellers just wander around the countryside on foot or on bikes) for the next few days.

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Photos

Hail to the chief
Every town is required to have a statue to the late leader and father of modern Laos. He's got a lot to answer for I reckong.