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Published: March 1st 2007
Another Waterfall
The Bolaven Plateau at its best.Pakse
Comparatively speaking, Pakse is a metropolis in southern Laos; a veritable backpacker heaven. Well that was my first impression at least, an impression which gradually changed during the days I spent there.
To start with, I chose a bad guesthouse. The bed was too short and not a great deal more comfortable than the floor, the communal showers were all broken, and to top it off the restaurant downstairs became ridiculously noisy at 6am every day. That aside though, I really did enjoy the town due to the fact that virtually every tourist in southern Laos spends a night or two there. In three nights I managed to meet such an eclectic assortment of people that there was never a dull moment. In fact, on the first night there I ran into the Australian baker that I had met on Don Det (further proof that he is the laziest baker in the world; he takes almost every day off!) while I was searching for dinner. After eating a full Indian meal there Oiy, the baker, had to go back to his hotel so as to make full use of his TV while he was in Pakse which left
Waterfall on the Bolaven Plateau
The twin waterfall cascading off the edge of the plateau. me alone again on the street.
“Oh well” I thought, I’ll just walk along and meet someone. Three steps later and I was talking to a French-German friend of mine who then introduced me to an assorted group of other Europeans in front of an internet cafe. It really is that easy to find people in backpacker haunts; I am continually being surprised by this fact. However, most of my new friends were just about to leave for Vientiane on a sadistic VIP bus - these busses look fantastic with their loud and colourful murals painted all over their sides and the pink curtains, but no amount of colour or frilly curtain will make the 16 hour ride any more pleasant in my eye. So, there I was, sitting with the other two people who were smart enough to avoid the long bus (both of which happened to be really attractive girls of course, just my luck) so what were we to do? Have dinner two of course, and seeing as we were next to the curry house we went back there. That’s right, I had curry for dinner twice in the same night. Call me what you will,
Swimming After a Massage
That's right, I didn't drown! but when on holiday I have the right to stuff my face whenever and with whatever I choose.
From that short description of just two hours in Pakse I am sure that you can see why I liked the place; good food and good conversation. That town is practically my ideal holiday. However, Pakse is not limited to these small pleasures as the Bolaven Plateau is only a short drive out of town. I took a day-tour, an expensive tour I might add, out to the plateau to see the waterfalls, coffee and tea plantations, minority villages, and one of the girls that I had met two nights earlier (I had told her about the tour and she had signed up so I sort of had to go along as well so as not to look suspicious. That was my motive, honest).
Unlike what I had expected, the tour turned out to be a fantastically fun day. There were four other tourists traveling with me, plus a local guide called Larn, and we set out in a Seoung Thaeow early in the morning. The coffee and tea plantations were not particularly exciting, however, the waterfalls made up for
One For the Ladies
Brian and I in the waterfall. that in a big way. One hundred meter high cascades flow off the plateau and seemingly fall all the way to sea level in a single drop; as the edge of the plateau appears as though it was cut sheer by a knife. At one lookout there were actually two such waterfalls next to each other, combining with one another at the foot of the cliff!
The highlight of the day was the minority village which we visited. I had heard conflicting stories about the village: one woman had told a tale of a completely isolated village without any western influences, while a man had told of a highly touristed place with all the authenticity of a pair of Thai sunglasses. With these conflicting thoughts I entered the village hoping to find truth somewhere. Well, the truth appeared to be evident in both stories. The village was not westernised as the locals spoke essentially no English or French and their living conditions were as rudimentary as I have seen anywhere. On the other hand though, I saw dozens of television antennas protruding from the thatch huts. One boy was collecting ants to eat (which Brian and I partook in
Our Tour Group
From left: Brian, Sandy, Derek, me and Meintje. several times, the grown ants taste somewhat sour while the larvae are quite sweet which combines to make a tasty snack) while numerous dirty children milled around us trying to see what we were doing. The experience was quite bemusing as I could not understand how a society could exist with malnutrition and abject poverty while still affording televisions (which, mind you, would only play Thai programmes). Is this the western influence?
Notes For Fellow Travellers in Laos
Before I write any further here I have a little fact which other travelers in Laos may want to know. There are ATM’s everywhere in Laos. In every major town and city the BCEL has an ATM and sometimes other banks have them as well. This is a fact which is hard to come by as even the locals often are unaware.
Post Pakse
Getting back to the story of my life (hah! Doesn’t that sound pretentious), I eventually left Pakse on the day after the tour. I had actually teamed up with the german girl, Sandy, that I had meet a few days earlier and who had also been on the tour and together we
headed to Savanakhet (Sandy actually convinced me to head that way, I had originally planned to head east for a couple of days). Savanakhet is a fun little city, very quiet and with very few things to see and do aside from trekking in a national park some hours drive east. I think perhaps that I would have found the place dull had I been traveling alone as we essentially just ate pizzas, drank cappuccinos and stayed in our air-con room watching Thai television for a day. It was nice to have a small bit of luxury before the days ahead in which I was planning to punish myself in my search for adventure (see next section).
I am struggling to write about Savanakhet here. I really enjoyed my time there but I have no idea why. The dinosaur museum was a joke, the restaurants were nice but I didn’t spend a great deal of time in them, what did I do? Hmm.
After two days of what must have been such exhilarating fun that I completely forgot all about it in my excitement I headed north to Tha Khek - where the real story of this journal
Kids Love Soap
No how much they complain about bath time, kids actually love soap. See, this kid can't get enough soap to juggle! It's a shame that he hasn't used it to wash though. begins - while Sandy headed south again towards Cambodia. For some reason I am getting worse at goodbyes as this trip progresses, not better as you would expect. Perhaps sad goodbyes have a summing effect where you eventually cannot handle seeing anyone leave ever again…
The Loop
I arrived in Tha Khek with one motive in my head: to do “the loop”, a three (or more) day motorbike ride through what is supposed to be the most scenic part of Laos. Well ok, I had a second motive: I was starving after the bus ride so I had to go eat the largest meal available. I found a bed at the Travel Lodge which supposedly gave the best information on the loop through a log book which previous travelers had compiled and I began to plan my adventure.
The log book gave some very depressing news as all of the entries told tales of woe; broken down bikes, terrible road conditions, dangerous truck drivers constantly overtaking riders, and bad guesthouses. After reading these stories I began to have doubts about the trip, should I really put myself in such a situation, did I waste my time
coming to Tha Khek. In the end I decided to wait until the following morning when I could talk to the owner of the guesthouse and get all the information I wanted. That plan also gave me a day in which to get my affairs in order as I had no clean clothes, nothing to protect my face from dust on the road, no food or water. Basically I was just completely unprepared for anything.
On the following morning I woke early, I was staying in a dorm so I had little choice in the matter, and I went downstairs for breakfast. One other guy was there getting ready to head out on the loop so I asked him a few quick questions about it; he was most helpful and introduced me to one of the staff who was the expert on how to go about undertaking the trip. Twenty minutes later I was checking out my 100cc scooter and packing my bag ready for the trip. I decided to travel by the philosophy of Richard Halliburton whereby the amount of fun you have is inversely proportional to the amount of luggage you take; toothbrush, toilet paper, camera, map,
Larn Shows Off the Magic of Polaroid
Derek and Meintje had the good idea of bringing a polaroid camera, it was a huge hit with the kids. sleeping bag, spare shirt, jocks and socks. And off I went.
The first days ride takes you east towards the town of Mahaxai along a road which is entirely under construction. Dust billowed up from every bus, truck and car which passed me but I did not mind as the scenery was breathtaking. Limestone karsts rose up from the plain like buildings, hundreds of them scattered about, combining together to make an alien landscape which defies belief. The dust was annoying I will admit, but only because my helmet was less like a motorbike helmet and more like the toy fireman helmet you would give to a two year old; small, ill-fitting, flimsy and visor-less. But when the scenery is so unbelievably beautiful that you rarely even look at the road, such issues are quickly forgotten.
After riding for some time I stopped at a bridge and walked down a short dirt path to the Xiang Liab cave, a hole which goes right through one of the karsts and comes out the other side some 200 meters away. At the far end a small pool opens in the floor which would have made for an idyllic swim had
I had some more time up my sleeve.
Further down the road, as the karsts began to grow in size and height, there were other caves to see, streams to swim in and panoramas to absorb. Each of these I explored to my heart’s content, each time feeling more and more impressed by the spectacular nature of that small part of the world. I could have returned to Tha Khek that day and been happy with what I had seen; at the time I would not have believed that the following days would bring any sights more worthwhile than what I had already seen. How wrong I was.
Before reaching Mahaxai I turned north and the roads turned to the worse; smooth compacted dirt became rocky paths carved out of the side of a mountain as I slowly wound up and up, high into the mountain range running through the western areas of Laos. In the valley on my side a mighty river used to run; now it has slowed to a trickle due to the hydroelectric dams being constructed. One after another the construction sites were slowly shaping the mountains and valleys into usable human resources. The
Brian Playing With the Children
The children in the minority village loved to see themselves on cameras. Just like all village kids do. engineer in me rejoiced, the conservationist in me was scolded and told never to return (I can’t let such thoughts get in the way of progress). The road climbed a total of some 1000 meters high into the chilly highlands and a town called Nakai; the place where I was to sleep that night.
I had read in the log book back in Tha Khek that the journey from Nakai north to Lak Xao would take about five hours and as I was going to reach Nakai around 4pm I though it wise to stop there, however, finding Nakai was like finding a needle in a haystack. A haystack where the locals know where the needle is, moreover they actually put three needles in there, but then they refuse to give you accurate directions to find said needles. Lots of hand waving and charades and I thought I was heading in the right direction. Every local told me to keep riding down the road towards Nakai so I blindly followed until about 5:30. At this point I was almost certain that I had missed the place so I stopped a local and spent a good five minutes trying to
Third Waterfall
The Tat Lo waterfall on the Bolaven Plateau. get correct directions. He actually laughed at me when he realised that I was looking for Nakai, I am sure that he was thinking “This falang wants to go to Nakai? What? All falangs go to Lak Xao, he must want to go to Lak Xao as well. Lets just give him directions to Lak Xao no matter how many times he says Nakai, we know more than him.” Clearly getting directions was going to be difficult so I resorted to trying to find distances at which point he very clearly told me that I had already ridden one hour away from Nakai! I couldn’t make Lak Xao before dark and my headlight was faulty so I was forced to turn around and head back to Nakai, to where I had first asked for directions.
Of course I was angry, so I rode accordingly. The road heading north from Nakai was supposedly the worst part of the loop but I didn’t care, I could handle it! Into fourth gear, up to 100kph (roughly, I did not have a speedometer), trying to keep to the side of the road where the bumps were less, well, bumpy. Onwards I pressed, pushing
Riverside Fun in Savanakhet
Down in the Mekong after school was out. the bike as hard as it could go, overtaking every truck I saw; I had to get to Nakai before dark lest I be forced to sleep in the wilderness where I would certainly either freeze to death or be eaten by some kind of human-eating wild beast. This was not the safest thing I have ever done, but I was not in the right sort of humour to care.
I eventually reached Nakai safely with nothing worse than a sore bum to my name and I searched around for a guesthouse, this time making sure to ask directions from a minimum of seven locals just to make sure the directions were clear. I found a place, it cost me far too much money especially considering that both the shower and handbasin were non-functional, but I needed a place to sleep. I also needed food so I headed to the center of town and found a Vietnamese restaurant which was more than happy to serve me a meal befitting of three people for less than three dollars.
The second day dawned and I rose early so that I could reach Lak Xao by a reasonable lunch time. This
Xiang Liab
Looking out of the first cave on the loop. was the day that people talked of as the most scenic and spectacular on the trip. It was also the day which most people complained about and thought was too dangerous. “Perfect” I thought as I set out, a good day to enjoy being on the bike. I was sadly disappointed by the condition of the road though, it was pristine, just like a country road back home in Australia. Bumpy, muddy, potholed, up hills then down the other side, but not impassable by a long shot. Logging trucks were driving all along the road but they were traveling at such a snails pace that I had no choice but to overtake them, I really cannot believe that some people complained about being overtaken on that road. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of that ride; it took so much concentration to keep up the pace as I traveled along. And to boot the views was completely untouched and wild; deep valleys falling away from the road, mountains rising around me, jungle on all sides as the cool shade of the trees kept long sections of the road in a kind of semi-twilight. As the road started to head down off
French Landing
Swimming spot on the first day of the loop. the range and into the valley where Lak Xao is found the plains of central Laos opened before me with gigantic limestone peaks, far larger than any I had ever seen, grew from the grasslands, defying the forces of erosion for as long as they can.
On this section of road I was also fortunate enough to be able to give some small charity back to the local community. I did this in the form of petrol as I found two unfortunate souls pushing their bike up a hill some 30km from any town. Of all the places to run out of petrol they sure chose the least sensible so I had to give them some of mine. I only hoped that I had enough to last my own bike all the way to the next station.
Eventually I reached Lak Xao, after only requiring three hours to pass the supposed five hour road. Bollocks to those other tourists, they clearly had no idea about riding (neither do I to be honest). The thrill I felt as I conquered that road was so great that I truly felt like I was the king of the world. The remainder
Road to Lak Xao
This was the really fun road from Nakai to Lak Xao. It doesn't look so scary now does it? of the loop was supposed to be a formality from here, I had done it! Onwards I drove, along a bitumen road back up the range and then down the other side to the town of Na Hin where I was set to head 40km south on a newly constructed road to Kong Lor cave.
This part of the adventure started in true style: with bad directions. The girl I asked gave me some poor hand waving by means of explanation and I set off assuming that there would be a big sign indicating where I should turn, a sign which exists but not in anyplace where I could have seen it. Eventually though (after driving half an hour too far down the road) I found the turn and headed onto the new road. Now, a new road sounds great doesn’t it? In the west a new road implies the best quality you will find: brand new bitumen. In this case however it meant a long pile of dirt which was in the process of being compacted. Most of the bridges were also non-existent which meant a number of detours and creek crossings and to top it all off,
Karsts Near Lak Xao
The scenery near Lak Xao was so breathtakingly stunning with the Karsts and the plains and the sky. the further I rode down the road the worse its condition became until eventually it became a sort of rock/dirt mix which was questionably stable. All of this got me excited, another fun road to ride along! Yes! This was going to be fun.
Two hours of thrilling riding later I reached the end of the road. I had ridden very quickly along the road once I had found the knack of it; finding the solid and dust-free path along the road. I was on a high when I reached the cave at the end of the road, but alas, it was too late in the afternoon to enter the cave and I would have to spend a night in the village. The village was more authentic than the one I had visited near Pakse, the locals just did their everyday thing (growing rice and tobacco) and let foreigners stay the night in some of their homes. I ate traditional meals for dinner and breakfast (fried crickets for breakfast was a real highlight) and spent a lot of time just smiling and waving at the local kids. It was a truly native experience. I couldn’t stand it for more
Kong Lor Village
This is the village where I stayed for a night. than one night; I needed to be able to talk to someone!
On the third morning I woke early to go and see Kong Lor cave, a seven kilometer long cave through which a river runs, cutting clear through the middle of one of the massive limestone monstrosities which dot the landscape. To see the cave I hired a boat and two boatmen who drove me to the entrance at which point I realised that the way into the cave was blocked by a small waterfall some three feet high. “How does one get a boat into that?” I was thinking when promptly the boatmen forced me out of the boat and told me to walk into the cave while they manhandled and pulled the boat up the incline by themselves! This was going to be an interesting experience to say the least. Once inside the cave the light began to fade, as it does in such places, and I could hear the sound of rushing water. Was it coming from behind us at the falls I had already seen? No, it was coming from ahead of us; an echo perhaps. No, there was a second waterfall in the
Boat to the Cave
Riverine scenery before the cave entrance. cave itself! So we stopped the boat and climbed out and pulled the boat up a natural slide that the water had carved into the rock. Here I was in pitch black underneath a mountain pulling a boat up a waterfall; how very Jules Verne of me.
Once past the falls the cave truly opened up wide, in parts it was so high that the roof was not visible with the aid of our torches. I can only presume that the statistics I read of 100 meters or more are accurate. The river covered the whole cave, wall to wall, up to 30 or 40 meters across and I could barely see a thing. My boatmen however were extremely confident and navigated through the myriad twists and turns, missing the pinnacles which reached from the ceiling almost to the water along with their compatriots rising from below the water’s surface. More waterfalls presented themselves and at each one we pulled the boat upwards, sometime barely being able to move it along the smooth rock surfaces. Many times the river became too shallow for the boat and we had to wade along while pulling the boat, all the while without
Muddy Road at Kong Lor
This tractor was having a hard time driving along, can you imagine what it was like for me? My bike can be seen in the background. being able to even see our feet were the torch not pointed at them. Eventually we stopped the boat and one of the crew took my hand and guided me to the wall of the cave, some distance from the boat. We climbed up the wall, much as you would climb a sand dune, up to some unknown height, perhaps three or four stories up to a shelf on the wall where we could get close to the limestone formations; stalactites and such. The view would have been unlike any other; had we been able to see it.
This caving adventure continued for more than an hour as we pushed further and further into the mountain. Darker and darker it felt as we traveled further from the safety of the outside world. My mind tricking me into seeing things moving around me, every sound magnified and warped into the screech of bats. When would we reach the end? Would there be an end? Could we find our way out? Darker, darker. And then suddenly, the darkness stopped.
As we emerged from the cave I felt safe again and I looked over my shoulder at the mountain, seeing it
Post Rain Clouds
Scenery on the ride out of Kong Lor. for the first time in its gigantic hugeness. What an experience that was to travel 7km through a mountain in a boat. I only forgot one thing, the way back to the village and my bike was back through the cave. So, we set out once more into the deepest darkest depths of Kong Lor.
While we were returning through the cave, the one thing that I had not figured on occurred. It rained. And rained, and rained. It poured you would have to say, a veritable tropical downpour in the middle of winter, so as I got on my bike and set out to return to Tha Khek I was not looking forward to being cold and wet all day. I just didn’t want to spend another night in the village with no entertainment that was in a language other than Lao or Thai. However, despite my urgency, Mother Nature had made escape impossible as the road had turned to mud. Deep, thick, greasy mud that my scooter simply could not handle. As I sat down to lunch in the village I was expecting to be there for a few more days waiting for the road to dry.
Sunset at the Phu Phu Man Limestone Forrest
The last glimpses of light over the limestone. As I sat there, cold and wet without a change of clothes (thank you Mr Halliburton!) I cursed nature for this injustice, how cruel a trick to play on me. By three o’clock I was sick of it, I was going to leave now or at the very least I was going to get very muddy trying! The rain had stopped and the road was beginning to dry; tractors had begun to drive along it (one or two were getting bogged though).
The three hours which followed were indescribably fantastic as it took every bit of concentration, skill and above all balance to move along that road. Each bridge detour became a challenge: try to stay vertical while the bike is moving sideways or try to keep moving while the bike was in a foot of mud. One such detour had been washed away and I watched as the locals repaired it right there in front of me. Large sections of road were washed out and the only way through was to get off and push the bike through. What fun I had! What incredible joy I felt! How dirty and wet I got! As I got to the end of the road I had a smile from ear to ear as I praised nature for giving me such a thrilling afternoon.
Due to the delay I had faced in Kong Lor the sun was almost setting as I reached the bitumen and I thought for a moment about staying there for a night, but I was cold and wet, I needed to get back to Tha Khek. After all, it was only 160km back with bitumen the whole way, so I headed onwards into the setting sun. I passed limestone peaks, a limestone forest, mountain ranges and rivers until as the sun finally dropped behind the horizon and darkness approached I reached the town of Vieng Kham. I had realised that my headlights were not working at all now so I stopped at a small bike shop and tried replacing the bulbs. This didn’t work so the owner got a mechanic (an 8 year old boy) to fix my bike for me. While they did that I sat with the owner’s wife, who happened to by Chinese, and tried to talk to the family. Three hours of poorly understood Mandarin, one home-cooked Chinese meal and $20 worth of parts later I was ready to set out for the last stretch back to Tha Khek.
As I drove off I quickly realised that two wet shirts was not enough insulation to keep me warm during the ride at 9pm; I was freezing the whole way. But I had chosen to push on to Tha Khek, I wanted to get in before midnight and have a hot shower and a comfortable bed. I wanted to be able to wake up the next day to something other than noodle soup and sticky rice. I pushed on for two freezing hours, counting down the mileposts, until I reached the Tha Khek Travel Lodge on the stroke of midnight. Cold, wet, covered in mud, smelly, but ultimately happier than I have ever been before. I had just completed the most amazing adventure of my life. True satisfaction.
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Joel
non-member comment
You didn't name your bike this time? The ladyboys must have straightened you out, or maybe it was Sandy. I'm sure she knows what you were doing those 2 days.