The Tour of (Northern) Laos

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April 15th 2008

Published: April 15th 2008

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ChrisH

The team

The cyclists I met leaving Vang Vieng, dining in the truck stop

Quick picture:

saturday: Cycle from Vieng Vang to truck stop 80km north. Meet & ride with other cyclists
sunday; 60km and truck ride to Nam Chat - a village supposedly with a guesthouse
monday: 79km to Phonsavon
tuesday: day around Phonsavon, visiting plain of jars an area heavily bombed during 'Vietnam' war
wednesday; going solo again, Muang Kham 52km
thursday; punishing 87km to Nam Neun
friday: even harder 49km to Suan Hin
saturday; bus to Nong Khiaw
sunday; 120km and bus to Luang Prabang. First day of Lao new year
monday; Festival in Luang Prabang.

This section of the route saw me do a bit of a loop in north eastern Laos, thus deviating away from main artery, route 13. Villages were once again far apart and even less likely to contain restaurants/guesthouses. Power poles disappeared from the side of the road; the bigger villages had generators for power between 6-10pm, and a couple of others had solar panels installed through projects with overseas institutions. Many were without electricity. The loop, and particularly the later stages of it are well off the tourist trail and locals were surprised to see a 'farang', let alone one sweating and panting on

The bungalows, populated by cyclists

a bike. And sweaty I was because the hills were getting seriously steep. On a couple of the days I climbed over 1700m on gradients which required the serious use of brakes when descending - such a waste. Rare is it to find the perfect decent = 2 to 3 %

On leaving Vang Vieng, I sighted cyclists within a km or so. These were the first bikers I had come across heading in the same direction so I was very excited and keen to make a good impression! I stayed upright and an hour rolled by so easily with people to chat to. A very interesting couple from Holland who have been on their bikes for 6 years; Africa, Tibet, India and now Asia. They looked quite loaded, but they explained later that as travelling for the long haul, they had some creature comforts (the thickest thermarests - I was very jealous) and huge diaries which were more like a travel book with maps, guides, butterflies (found dead on the road) and even a snakeskin (also found dead, but with snake inside which had to be liberated) stuck inside. They had sold up everything back home and

Problems on the road

The mountainous terrain put a halt to this truck

now carried everything they owned. I spent 3 days riding with them, and as is often the case, saw them again (sat down at the table next to them!) an hour after arriving in Luang Prabang (where I am now), the second biggest town in Laos! More on Peter and Karin can be found on their website http://www.cycletheworld.nl which they have also translated into English.

A couple of hours later 2 more joined our group; Ben and Jess from America. Although maybe not going at the pace of Tour de France cyclists, it was great fun riding in a pack! From our (separate) meetings with the French cyclist before arriving in Vang Vieng, we all had the same destination in mind - a set of 5 bungalows 80km north of Vang Vieng which also had a restaurant and served as a truck stop. Aside from being the only place to stay along this stretch, the jewel to this place was the hot spring that feeds a pond. A great way to relax after 1000m of ascent. Waiting there was yet another cyclist, taking the total to 6 and we occupied 4 of the 5 bungalows. I was the last

The moutains we suffered through

which resulted in grabbing a local truck

to arrive (not sure how this happened, I'll blame equipment failure!!) and so I had the furthest to push the bike + bob up the steep hill. I had chicken schnitzel, which I hadn't seen on a menu thus far, and was a little surprised to end up with a couple of small chicken nuggets, but trading cycling stories into the night made up for that.

The following day we were reduced to 5 as one of the group set off earlier and appeared to have much stronger legs than us as we never caught him (but maybe he opted for some alternative transport!). A 2km descent (lovely) was ruined by 15km solid ascent of 790m (a little more than Mt Lofty) and the hills kept coming. After a respectable 60km and 1500m climb, we had to call on a truck to take us to a village which reportedly had a guesthouse. On arrival in Nam Chat, nothing was apparent, we enquired at the restaurant and eventually someone fetched some keys. We backtracked through the village to be presented with a bare room in rather derelict building. It looked to house workers on the adjacent construction sight. Maybe they

Bejing 2008

A group of 20 or so Chinese motorbike riders came past when we had allowed ourselves a break. only a couple stopped, and Peter took the oppertunity to get a photo with his Free Tibet badge! (sown to shorts)

were still building the guesthouse, but I hoped rather it was a school. Fortunately we settled on a reasonable price (1US dollar each) but we really weren't getting much. I showered the next morning in one of the villages 3 communal washing areas. A tap with a concrete bund around it. These are common in all villages and are pretty much the only piped water source in the village - I suspect direct from the nearest stream or river. In any case, it was more than adequate.

That day we made it to into flatter territory, the town of Phonsovan which is in the heart of a region known as the Plain of Jars. Jars, ranging in size up to 3m high and 2m in diameter are scattered around the landscape concentrated in some 40 odd sites. 3 of the largest sites have been opened up to tourists, which involved clearing of unexploded ordnance (UXO) and we visited these the next day. The jars have been carved from granite boulders which originated nearby, although still a fair way to shift a large rock. Their purpose was unknown for a long time and local legend involved them in the brewing

Sugar Cane

Another well deserved break and sampling sugar cane juice.

of Lao Lao (locally brewed spirits). A French scientist recently discovered bones near the jars and it is now suggested that the jars were used as pots to contain the recently deceased for a few months before burial of the remaining bones. I can see why the locals preferred the first explanation!

Scattered amongst the jars were larger craters which were the result of US bombs during the Vietnam war (when they were bombing Laos as well - initially without declaring this publicly), which then became the second Indochina war. The bombing was widespread in the east as the area was used by North Vietnamese forces as a supply chain down to South Vietnam. Later in the day I watched a video produced by MAG (mines advisory group) who have been coordinating UXO clearance around tourist sites (to increase tourism) and around local population centres (to reduce death and injury). They have trained local people in mine detection and denotation, and aside from being painstakingly slow it also appears fraught with danger. Brave men and women! The video also showed the bombs - bombies - in action. One bomb dropping from the plane, which then separates into 4 missiles,

Plain of Jars (1)

Some big pots!

which, when 50-100 feet off the ground, stop and hover, then firing out 4-5 final bombs in various directions which explode showering the area with shrapnel. A single bomb from the plane would cover a vast area with flying shrapnel (several km^2 from memory). This type of bomb was not designed to penetrate tanks or guns, it was only effective against people, a horrifying weapon. Many bombs did not explode as intended, and continue to plague the regions. A plane load of bombs was dropped every 8 minutes for 9 years, which was the equivalent of 1 tonne of bombs for every Lao person in the country at the time (2.1million people). These were shocking statistics, and to think that we continue to do this (using the same weapons) all around the world... Iraq, Afghanistan and, even more shockingly for the Brits, in the Falklands.... Sorry for the rant on this topic, but it has quite affected me.

Moving on from Phonsovan, I headed east solo. The first day was mostly downhill and, as a result, very quick. I ended up in a town with very few highlights at 2pm, probably the earliest I had arrived anywhere.. After a

Plain of Jars (2)

night in very average accommodation I headed north with fruit and snacks in my bag. Finding bread is a rarity, even less common than restaurants, so lunches were becoming banana, mango + biscuits. It turned out to be a long day and my altometer suggested I was several hundred meters higher than the map suggested (which made the hills seem much harder). However I was rewarded by a lovely 15km descent in the town of Nam Neun. Again, only a small town with electricity only from 6-10pm, but this town was situated on a river and was pleasant! Being in a good mood, I picked up my lonely planet and noticed the nearby archaeological site of Suan Hin to visit and decided I would check these out the next day. Or at least I thought they were nearby from the location on the LP map. Looked slightly further away on my map. Still I would not be discouraged (yet).

The next day saw me pay for the descent of the previous evening with 5km of solid uphill to a junction where I learned that Suan Hin was still 40km away. Well, I had made up my mind to set

Local Lao Lao distillation shed

off east again. The hills didn't stop coming and it took me till 5pm to arrive at the site after 5km of dirt roads with some 13% gradients. As the day evolved I had to re-plan my nights rest; from riding to the nearest town, to hitching and finally relying on camping at the stones. As I finally got there the lightening and rain added to the thunder I could hear; fortunately I found a solid shelter which I could sleep and eat underneath. A Pig + piglets also had this in mind. We agreed they could have the dirt and I would take the raised floor. I barricaded the entry in case they hadn't quite understood. Thinking the heavens were about to open and that darkness might fall prematurely, I fired up the stove and ate dinner. I had had a quick glimpse of the stones but decided an explore could wait till the next day. In the end the rains held off and darkness didn't come till 7, by which time I was quite ready for lights outs.

The stones here are tall and 'blade like' and also mark burial sites, with the bodies held in underground

Mobile Bakery

This was immediately flagged down, and later i found the source, yum yum.

chambers. I explored the following morning and was moderately impressed. The guide had suggested something like Stonehenge, and although I haven't actually been there, I think I was being misled. However it was a pleasant and remote spot. I could hear music coming from a nearby village, but without sight of the village, or any road to it, I decided they probably weren't ready for me to burst in on them.

I was now several hundred km east of route 13 and my program for sights to see in Laos (which had evolved considerably since first plotting the route in Adelaide without any guide book) and so the rest of the day would see me using motorised transport. I was hoping to hitch a lift from a passing truck, but after waiting for an hour and not seeing one go by I opted for the daily bus. Disadvantages to this were (i) I would have to pay and (ii) the bike would be on the roof and at risk...

It turned out to be a highly interesting day, although taking almost twice as long as I expected! The driver’s assistant lugged my bike almost effortlessly onto the roof

Fish Markets

In Ponsavon, live fish for sale

despite my warnings that it was quite heavy. I quickly joined him to make sure nothing too silly was happening there and was content. Later, seeing more and more items heading on to the roof I became concerned that they would all end up on my bike. I would learn some lessons about bike packing (again) following the trip, and subsequent repairs..

I was quite impressed by the driver, the roads were steep, winding and in some areas unpaved but I didn't see anyone forced off the road. Amongst the 'staff' there was the driver’s mate, whose job was to hold the gear stick in place when the driver needed both hands on the wheel, there was the baggage loader and ticket collector, and finally another character who I'm sure had a gun and spent much of the journey on the roof..

Across the aisle from me were a mother, father and child. The bus had no toilets and it ended up being a 10 hour journey for me, longer for my near neighbours. In the 4 hours I was sitting adjacent to them, the child went through 3 pairs of shorts - an alternative to nappies. They

Bombing Stats

Scary statistics in the MAG 'shop', Ponsavon

were shaken out of the window and then dangled out to dry. I will me more cautious of passing buses from now on!

Despite the twists and turns, I was able to read on the bus, but eventually the music got to me and I reverted, for the first time, to using my mp3 music player. To overcome the bus tunes I had to have it on max, and even then I would occasionally get a bit of Lao music mixing. However it was not all bad, and certainly better than Thai music videos I had seen. Furthermore, kids in the villages we passed also appreciated it and would dance as the bus went past. From conversations with the only other farang on the bus this was not usual, and probably had something to do with it being the eve of Lao New Year.

Lao new year is a 6 day festival which is celebrated intensively for 3 days with a water festival through Laos. The most vigorous celebrations are in Luang Prabang, where I was heading next. It was 140km away and I found the roads surprisingly flat so despite setting off late at 10.30 (after repairing

Water buffalo on 'my' road

gears from bus trip and noticing missing mirror and compass) I attempted to do the whole thing by bike. I passed many villages and was repeatedly soaked (which I welcomed) by villagers participating in the water festival, and also invited to drink much Lao Lao, which I refused on account of riding. Late in the afternoon as thunder and rain came again (this is meant to be the hot, dry season) I rethought this strategy and began looking for trucks. Again these were sparing and still finding problems with the bike (rear brake not working well and the frame creaking all the time) I did not want a bus. I stopped for a drink, and needless to say one passed whilst I was flapping around with 1000's of kip. Amazingly a short time later another went past and I was able to get the express to Luang Prabang. I had done 120km.

Arriving in Luang Prabang during the new year festival without pre-booked accommodation is unwise, but I was willing to use my tent. The first guesthouse I tried was full (unsurprisingly) but said I could pitch my tent over the road. Inspection of their suggestion revealed a dusty

A remote village

this one was lucky to be equipped with solar panels for each house

alley and I said I would try elsewhere first. The 2nd place had a room, for 25US dollars. This seemed expensive (normally paying 5) so I continued on, keen to find somewhere for my tent. The 3rd place had no rooms but I could pitch my tent (for 3 dollars) outside but under cover. Was happy with this and set out for dinner, where I promptly bumped into Peter and Karin, the Dutch cyclists from before. Had a good dinner and catch up with them. They had also lucked out on finding accommodation, arriving several days before the festival started, but also to full places. A guy had seen them from a balcony and with their bikes they looked interesting. He offered some rooms he had from friends who weren't going to make it, for 1/3 the price he paid and money that was promptly donated to the charity they ride for - War Child. After dinner I returned to my hostel to find 2 others had joined me in 'my room'. They had been touring the town for longer than I had been in town and had only found rooms for 85 dollars.

Needless to say the town

Mushroom harvest

In the remote villages. the only economy is what can be grown in the surroundings. Every day I see large sacks of wood or bamboo shoots beiong carried by old women and small children. Needless to say i don't want to ask them to pose for a photo..

is full to the rafters, but 98% are Laos and Thais here to celebrate their new year. I was pleasantly surprised to find this and looking around temples people are performing their cleaning rituals - washing Buddha statues by pouring water down a long ornate gutter.

The mornings have been relatively normal, but in the afternoon the parade goes down the main street, one way yesterday, and the other way today. I'll let the photos do the talking but all manner of groups are represented from beauty queens (leading the procession of course), newlyweds, monks, martial arts, farmers and then following the main parade is the rest of the town in open back trucks, tuk-tuks, motorbikes. Everyone on the street and most of us cowering on the pavements gets a thorough dousing of water and flour. If you are really lucky getting smeared in face paint is also part of the rite. It is all in aid of cleaning away the sins of the previous year and starting afresh. Everyone gets into it, the old ladies dripping water on the monks, the kids (little and large) soaking everyone they can. The plastic water gun (or should I say cannon)

Night atmosphere

Smoke from slash and burn of forest and crops was painful during the day but lights up the sky at sundown

has revolutionised the event in recent years but the bucket of water on the head is still popular. Needless to say I wasn't going to escape and am sitting here still damp 2 hours after leaving the streets!

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