Trekking near Boun Tai

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Our guide La, picked us up from the Ancient hotel in a minibus with driver Pra (?). We drove for perhaps an hour over narrow paved roads heading northward and eventually alongside the Nam Ou River which we would travel down a week or so later. Initially parallel to the Mekong River, then the Nam Ou and then at Huai Kan, we headed north west towards Udom Xai. The roads were now dirt, getting quite rough and steadily steeper. In some places we were surprised that the little Hyundai minibus which was not 4x4 was able to do the job. At least the air-conditioning worked. On the road to Boun Tai the villages got progressively poorer, the jungle thicker and the number of pigs and chickens, greater. This was a long trip, probably 10 hours. By nightfall we were somewhere near Achang with a long way still to go. The rocks in the road were getting bigger and the grade steeper still. The landscape we saw was reminiscent of Chinese paintings: very steep, craggy mountains, overhanging trees with a rich covering of vines, wild banana trees and elephant ear plants. Landslides were common. It was clear that the road had been cut in several places during the last wet season. In fact heavy equipment was spread along the road, but we were allowed to move around these machines as they worked. Subsequently La explained that the Chinese had been spending quite heavily on Lao roads, particularly in areas where Lao products could be transported easily into China. Beerlao and excellent food for lunch in Udom Xai, as well as strong chilli dipping sauces. Whenever we ate Mekong fish, it was brilliant and tasty.

Our driver worked hard driving for about 12 hours over quite difficult roads, dodging potholes, stones, people and livestock. It was interesting to see the diversity of wildlife offered for sale beside the roads: bamboo rats; squirrels; maybe a civet; cockroaches (basement singers); bees in beehives; and birds. Dead, alive, hydrated or dried. Finally arrived in Boun Tai at about 2130 and we were surprised that the roads were no better in the town than in the hinterland. Straight to our guest house, which was a recent construction, perhaps expecting more Chinese tourists in future.

Awoke to the sounds of the village. It was the rice harvest and so teams of workers were transported out to the fields about dawn, in trailers pulled by two-wheeled mini tractors. These single cylinder beasts make a racket in the morning. We walked a bit around Boun Tai before meeting our guide and boarding a local “bus” for B. Mouch Nampok. This was really a covered delivery truck which we shared with locals and cases of Beerlao. Two hours of rough roads later we disembarked and enjoyed Lao lunch on the verandah of the Akha Chief’s house. Sticky rice, hot chilli dips and yesterday’s chopped chicken. We set off across the first valley at about 1430, into the oppressive heat. Crickets sang loudly, with a note like an electronic fire alarm. We soon learnt that the hill people don’t bother with winding mountain trails: they go straight down and then straight up. Very steep each way, and quite challenging even with light packs. First stream crossing at the bottom of the valley and dodged black and green leeches. The landscape was quite varied including wooded forests, low jungle thickets and open, dry rice fields. Unfortunately we saw plenty of examples of slash and burn agriculture. Perhaps five hours later we had scaled the next ridge and were heading towards the village for our overnight stay (B. Chependuay?). With headlamps, we made our way along narrow mountain tracks with steep, crumbling slopes below us. In some places the path was cut into distinct steps by the buffalo that use it as well. All exhausted, we finally arrived at the village and into the Akha Chief’s house.

The house was double story, wooden planked, with an open cooking fire down below. No chimney so the smoke was pretty overpowering in the top story where we were all going to sleep. Dinner was a freshly-killed chicken, sticky rice, roasted peanuts and Morning Glory soup and of course chillis. Unfortunately Beerlao was not available. Fortunately (or un..) local bootleg rice whisky (called “Cheepa”) was available. We at least tasted this powerful brew but the chemist in me, and the physician in Roscoe, concluded that the brew might contain a touch more methanol than is recommended for good health. Later in the evening the local girls were recruited to provide muscle massages for each of us. Wonderful though we were all a little tender in places. I was also given a private tour of the distillery which apparently every self-respecting Akha family maintains.

After a relatively rough night sleeping on floor boards, morning gave us a chance to explore the villages. Breakfast included a stew based on smoked, dried squirrel, which we politely declined. The houses were humble, but the small yard areas often tidy and swept despite the free ranging pigs, chickens and dogs. The children were enthralled by us but shy to any hint of photography due to the local belief that their soul would go with the camera to our foreign land. The mature Akha ladies were wearing traditional clothing and carrying heavy loads including babies, on their backs. We visited the village school and through the teacher provided some books and pencils. Apparently this was the right level and the kids were quite excited. The teacher took us back to his house for tea, melon and of course a taste of cheepa. The house was a single room with dirt floor and fire place, but well kept. He had been in the village for a few years now. Other villagers came to visit and enjoy the novelty of a visit.

Down the valley, a more challenging river crossing with water to thigh level, some more leeches and then up the ridges once again. This time for a total of only three hours. We then made our way across the spur to B. Mokkok Louan, and had lunch there. An Akha grandmother was our primary host and tended to us as she tended to the baby on her back. Chances were that the mother was in the fields helping complete the harvest. Another village, another slightly different cheepa, which we had to taste. The afternoon saw us following the plateau with only slight ups and downs to B. Mokkok Noy. This village had the luxury of a better road so there were motorbikes. Arriving a bit earlier we were able to enjoy a wash down at the spring. Shared by the villagers as well as the livestock, this was a little dirtier than perhaps we were expecting and with an aroma unusual to our normal bathing circumstances.

Our guide for this trek Bounlod was chief cook this evening, but the house/hostel/guesthouse(?) was shared by many in the community, as well as dogs, cats, chickens – luckily no pigs! Bounlod expertly navigated the task amongst elders and the many Akha visitors and was able to table a very respectable meal. iPhones and picture books made for enthralling entertainment. It was an interesting night with the various nationalities and cultures in the house, as well as wildlife on the roof, and the noises of the village outside. Sleep was not plentiful, but who’s counting. Fiona had a captive audience amongst the villagers next morning with picture books of Australian animals and little koalas.

The last leg of the trek was a 4 hour walk back to the main road at B. Namly. This was reasonably uneventful though one of us was lucky enough to see something that looked like a large otter ambling down the road towards our party. Not sure but maybe it was a civet? No question it changed direction when it saw us. Bounlod pointed out a remote and still wooded valley where some wild elephants still live.

All in all an absolutely fascinating 36 hours in the Loatian high country. Well guided and generously hosted.

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Photos

Above the clouds
Early morning view from our house at B. Mokkok Noy.