Laos

August 2000

A few hundred feet on, an ugly concrete building was under construction. This was the new Laos immigration site. Through the scaffolding, we found the arrival room, filled in the necessaries and were in. Nobody bothered us about anything and we were able to some enough money for the next transport.

A Honda pickup van driver offered us a ride 40km down the road to Khamkeut. The road was rocky in parts (mainly because it wasn't built yet Ebitumen always helps) but it gradually evened out into a decent surface. At Khamkeut, there was another larger pickup waiting for passengers going to Vientiane, 300km away. It was operated by a large smiling woman conductress, whom we christened "Mama Ho" and her husband, the driver. We piled with about 10 other people - a real squeeze but we were charged the local rate along with everyone else for the 8 hour journey. Mama Ho stood on a metal platform off the back trying to teach us Lao. It was impossible to see any scenery because of the heads and the canopy over our heads. At one stop, a local hunter was carrying half a dozen dead squirrels and a couple of owls, which Mama Ho purchased and threw in the back at our feet. Sad looking ex-squirrel faces stared back at us for the rest of the journey (arrrh!). We finally pulled into Vientiane around 5pm, 22 hours after leaving Hanoi. By the time I got to bed that night, I had been up for over 42 hours without sleep. But we had made it.

What does anyone know about Laos? Hands up. No one? I knew nothing either. I just expected it to be like the movie "Apocalypse Now". The tourist blurb read "Welcome to a land of ancient kingdoms... to a country of unparalleled natural beauty... and to a people whose traditions have endured for centuries" along with "The people of Laos offer a natural welcome - a welcome that is as warm as the sun and as unspoilt as our landscape (give or take a few B-52 bombers)" which was spot on with our first impressions.

Small and landlocked, hidden in the heart of Indochina (Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Myanmar and China all border it), it was known as the "Kingdom of a Million Elephants" (sadly 999,999 of them seem to have fled for pastures new). One of the least developed countries in Asia, with only 4.5 million people in 200,000 km sq., over 70% of the country has mountains and plateaus and 66% is forested. Most of the population is settled along river valleys and their major waterway is the huge Mekong River - the 12th largest/longest in the world. Agriculture, fishing, forestry and squirrel hunting is carried out by 80% of the population. A lot of foreign aid is needed to keep it going.

Historically, it had it's finest and briefest moment of glory in the mid 14th century when a warlord Fa Ngum formed a kingdom called Lan Xang. Thailand moved in, then the French, then the Japanese during World War II. They gained full independence in 1953, but suffered from the Vietnam War next door (because the Vietcong used the Laos border as part of the Ho Chi Minh trail to carry their supplies south). Laos has the "dubious distinction of being the most bombed country in the history of warfare. The USA dropped more bombs on Laos between 1964 and 1973, on a per capita basis than it did worldwide during World War II" (Lonely Planet). Thank you Richard Nixon and Henry Kissenger. How's the Nobel Peace prize doing on your mantelpiece?.

Politically, it was taken over by the communists in 1975 when Vietnam fell and is now called the Lao People's Democratic Republic (not). But recently, Vientiane has suffered a bout of infrequent bombings at the Morning Market every month or so by anti Government rebels. No one has been killed but 40 people have been injured. Consequently, tourists were being warned off Laos at the moment - but you should ignore that advice. Its a great place to visit.

Essential Laos words to know: Sam-ba-di (Greetings earthlings), Khawp jai (thank you - pronounced cobb-chi) and baw mak phet (I don't like it hot and spicy). Oo-er.

Vientiane sits on a bend on the Mekong River. Rather than a capital, it is like a large provincial town of 450,000 people - sweeping dusty boulevards and a very relaxed place in a non-descript way. There were plenty of 4 wheel drives and scooters, but nothing like Vietnam. You didn't even have to look before crossing the road. The best thing is that you can walk around and absolutely no one bothers you - no yelling from drinks stalls or tuk-tuk drivers. This was most evident when we visited the Morning Market (despite warnings by the British Foreign Office to stay away). We were able to stroll around the stalls full of electrical hardware and beautiful handicrafts and noone said a word. You could go in, have a look and leave and just get a smile in return. Revolutionary shopping. The most laid back country I had ever visited. The Central Post Office next door (also bombed in June) was very efficient and I was able to send a large package. The staff helped me fill out the forms and actually seemed to care. Probably because there was no bomb in it.

We visited some of the sights. Nothing was awe inspiring, but it passed a day. We discovered a brand new Wat (Buddhist temple), built in 1995 at a cost of $1m dollars (provided by foreign sponsers). It was a wonderful golden building with majestic golden 'najas' (multi-headed serpents) guarding the stairways. Local kids yelled "Hello. Where you from. Fuck you". (Which was nice). In all fairness, there was no child begging in this country. I was only asked for a pen once. And there were few beggars. I counted 2 and one of them wandered into our cafe to get uneaten food off the plates. She didn't ask us for anything.

Buddhism is deeply ingrained into the cultural and social fabric. Most male teenagers have a spell at a Wat - more educational than devotional and it was strange to see young Buddhist monks wander into internet cafes in their bright orange robes to access their email. Despite their sojourn, their life still went on outside the wat.

The Victory Monument (Patuxai) stands like an dark copy of the Arc De Triomphe in Paris at a multi-road junction. Ironically, it was built in 1969 with US purchased cement supposedly to build a new runway. Instead they built a monument to the fallen Lao people over the centuries of warfare. It has been known as the "vertical runway" ever since. The Great Sacred Stupa (Pha That Luang) is the most important national monument. Started in 1566, it has a 45m stupa painted in gold surrounded by a high walled cloister and only cost 8p admission. Wat Sisaket, built in 1818, is the oldest temple in Vientiane. The interior walls of the cloister were riddled with small niches that contained silver and ceramic Buddha images - over 3000 of them! In front, sat 300 seated and standing Buddhas of varying sizes.

And, er, that was it. The other great things about Vientiane were the baguettes - huge 1 foot affairs crammed full of meat and salad (for less than $1 apiece) and the rapid internet access available at a decent price. I bumped into Jeremy, whom I had stayed with at Angkor in Cambodia. He had come up through southern Laos on a dreadful journey of mud and flooded roads - worse than Cambodia. While I would have loved to have visited that region, logistically it was just too far out of the way and would have involved having to repeat two 24 hour bus journeys just to get there and back. We would see enough of the country as it was.

We caught a local bus to Vang Vieng about 4 hours north. The bus was crammed full of sacks of rice in the aisle and under the seats. A woman across the way had 3 ducks in a bamboo basket who gradually wilted as the heat swamped us. A puddle appeared on my seat from my sweat. The driver played Lao music which sounded like 1960's pychedelia. A Doors background of swirling organs and a Lao version of Janis Joplin warbling over the top. It was quite pleasant to listen to.

We passed through endless small hamlets of bamboo whicker huts on stilts with cows, ducks and water buffalo wandering around. The landscape was a procession of hills completely covered in forests and greenery as far as the eye could see. The road surface was surprisingly good. As we approached Vang Vieng, the scenic karst limestone mountain topography started to dominate the horizon. Sheer sided cliffs with tropical vegetation clambering everywhere.

Vang Vieng has re-invented itself from a dusty village into a major tourist stopover (of 44,000 people and growing) between Vientiane and Luang Prabang further north - the major tourist centre. The tourist blurb read "Welcome to paradise." It is ideally situated inbetween and has plenty of activities on offer. Consequently, everyone now breaks their journey there to chill out for a few days. There are many caverns and tunnels in the limestone hills which you can explore (with self appointed guides for a small fee), but we were content to rent bicycles and peddle around the wonderful scenery.

On a baking day, we crossed the Nam Song River in a motorized wooden canoe with our bikes and set off along an unsurfaced track through isolated hamlets. Everyone yelled "Sam-ba-di!" and "who is the fat naked bloke on the bike?" (in Lao). I don't know why. All the kids were running around naked. On either side were flooded irrigated paddy fields, water buffalo wallowing in the mud, huge black and red turkeys strutting around and the inevitable ducks. Up around us, towered the magnificent limestone cliffs covered in mist from the evaporating moisture of the rainforests. It was so peaceful.

The only noise was from the 'tractors'. These were strange narrow contraptions used to ferry goods and people along the non-existent roads. About 20ft long, with an open engine at the front, on top of two wheels, and then two long steel beams back to the driver who steered with handlebars and towed a trailor behind with another two wheels. They were able to ford the streams and rivers between the villages. We crossed one river on a narrow bamboo pedestrian bridge, barely wide enough for the bikes. The locals haven't learnt to drive yet, but sitting on the backs of water buffalo, they can get them into "herd" gear (ho-ho). I also noticed that every male seemed to carry either a wooden speargun or crossbow for hunting and fishing. Good job they were friendly. We waved as we passed and hoped an arrow didn't appear in our backsides. I plunged into various streams for a welcome dip wherever possible. The countryside was absent of any tourists.

Just after we returned the bikes, a huge thunderstorm commenced. Lightening flashed across the mountains which were completely covered in mist and no longer visible. The roads flooded around us, but locals carried umbrellas and carried on as normal. While we waited an hour for it to pass, we sampled the excellent 'Beer Lao". At 40p a pint, this was some of the best beer I had tasted in SE Asia but it had bad effects on your stomach the next day!

I also went "tubing" on the Nam Song River. This involved renting a large inflated inner tube and being taken up the river by tuk-tuk (all in for 40p - great value) and left to float a few miles downstream. I was joined by 3 other English lads. It put a different prospective to drift along with the tranquil forests and water buffalo around you. A few locals were on the banks fishing or digging the mud banks for whatever it was they were looking for, but we were pretty much alone. Midway, we pulled in at a newly opened "cave" (admission 15p). The guide gave us torches and we hauled our tubes up a hill to the entrance. It was a flooded cave, so we explored it by paddling into tunnels using our torches to guide us along a few hundred feet of darkness. A new experience. When we returned to the riverbank, the guide was catching snakes for supper. Back on the river, we drifted back down to Veng Vieng. A wonderful afternoon and thoroughly recommended. Apparently, you were able to drift for many miles down river, before a tourist went and drowned himself this year and they shortened the route. I had never seen so many butterflies as I saw in Laos. I think the million elephants were replaced with butterflies. All shapes, sizes and colours - reds, oranges, yellow, black and white. They would congregate on the mudbanks in hundreds and was a beautiful sight. Whatever happened to the butterflies in England?

Veng Vieng was very relaxed. I actually had a lie in at our guesthouse and no one disturbed me. In India, they would have been knocking on the door by 8.30am wondering why you weren't out on the streets yet. One of the Guesthouse rules read "Don't be noisy, don't be prostitute, don't play gambling, don't take narcotic drug". How did they know I was coming? Nothing about Beer Lao though. It was just nice to potter around, eat at the market (where I saw a large dish of cockroaches for sale. Also `vacuum cleaner pastry` ( what the hell is that?) and watch the street life with no one bothering you.

We headed for Luang Prabang which lay 7 hours north. The guidebook warned that "anti Govt rebels have been known to attack vehicles with small arms, grenades and rocket launchers" which sounded fun. But it has all changed. A bus (with our packs and a moped tied to the roof) took us along a new road on a scenic trip across the mountains. Not a bandit in sight. Our seat companion was an English girl who had recently worked in Japan as a "Hostess". She gave Jo the rundown about how it was done and how much money could be made wining and dining Japanese men at their own expense.

Luang Prabang was the former capital of Laos and is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It has a handful of historic temples (Wats) and old French mansions in a beautiful mountain setting. We checked into an huge, atmospheric 85 year old ex-colonial mansion in a quiet residential neighbourhood. Turkeys and chickens ran around the large garden. A huge triple en-suite room with large fan cost $7 and we had the place to ourselves. Guesthouses in Laos are excellent and most are new. You can often get an a/c en suite double room for about $8. You can live much cheaper, but why pass up luxury at those prices.

We spent a day doing a walking tour of the sights. The centre of town had a statue of 'Ma Torani' depicted as a young maiden washing her hair. According to Buddhist legend, Ma Torani (Mother of the Earth) protected the Buddha from the demon Devarade by washing her hair, the water from which swept the demon away (I wonder if she used 'Sunsilk' or 'Head and Demons'?)

There were Wats with front verandas of decorated columns and sumptuous gold leaf reliefs on the doors. Colourful 'Najas' everywhere with their curling serpent tails coiling alongside the steps leading up to the doors. Many shaven headed Buddhist monks in vivid orange robes sat around, not praying very much.

The 'Copper Tree Temple' (Wat Xieng Thong) built in 1560 is the most magnificent temple, with roofs that sweep low to the ground. The base of the wat glitters with thousands of emerald green mosaic tiles; gold leaf stencils adorn the outside walls. Inside the jet black walls and columns contrast magnificently with the overlaying vivid stencils of Buddhist stories. Swirling Buddhist 'wheels' cover the ceiling while a massive Buddha takes in the whole scene with a evil smile. The royal funeral temple in the compound had a impressive 12m high golden funerary chariot with writhing golden 'najas'. It was used for Royal funerals until the monarchy was dissolved by the Communists in 1975. Literally dissolved. They never did hear from the royal family again.

Luang Prabang was gearing up for a longboat racing festival. We had seen them practising on the river. Lengthy boats with about 50 people aboard all singing away. We could have hung around for 2 extra days to see it and the market stalls which were being built everywhere, but I had seen such an event before and it was time to head for Thailand.

I wanted to catch a 2 day slow boat up the Mekong River to the border in the north, but Jo had a small case of the runs (surely not the Beer Lao?) and didn't fancy two 12 hour spells on a wooden boat with no toilet. So we opted for the pricier but ultimately more rewarding hair-raising speedboat ride that covered the 300km in under 8 hours. There now follows a lengthy description of the day, but since it was the most memorable thing about Laos, I think it is worth the detail.

On the morning of departure, another monsoon storm was lashing down as we rose at 6.00am and got a tuk-tuk to the speedboat 'terminal' (ie a bamboo shack) 10 km out of town. The gutters had 4 foot rivers flowing down them. We were the first to arrive. A board noted opening times for weekdays, weekends and `funny days`. Another English couple, Toby and Zoe arrived shortly afterwards along with a dozen Lao people. There was dual pricing. An expensive $22.50 for foreigners, half that for Laos. They told us that 6 foreigners were needed for a boat, otherwise we had to pay for the extra seats. We held out and eventually they found 3 Lao women to fill up our boat.

About 9.30am, as the rain petered out, we descended the staircase to a speedboat Ea narrow 20ft long affair with a powerful 16 value engine at the back which looked like a car engine, but sounded like a motorbike without a muffler. The boat had a 12ft long propeller sticking out into the water at the back. I stripped off to just my shorts which got a round of applause from the women. It could be a wet ride.

Disaster struck. Jo and I had encased our packs in dustbin liners. To get into the boat, you had to climb off a muddy bank onto a un-moored floating bamboo raft next to the boat. I got my pack on, came back for Jo`s and as I stepped onto the raft, it moved and I fell into the water. I kept her pack and my small pack (with moneybelt etc) above water, but I was waist deep in water and my camera was in my shorts pocket. It took a bath and was the 4th camera I had destroyed in 4 years. A shame, because the forthcoming scenery was beautiful. Alas, you are spared the photos. The other passengers watched me and I discovered Lao for "Look at that prat trying to get into the boat", "Put your shirt back on"and "Who is that fat bastard in the life jacket?"

The packs were secured by ropes at the front of the boat under a tarpaulin. We were given crash helmets with pull down visors and a life jacket. The speedboat was divided into small compartments seating pairs of people (max of 8 on the boat), with a small foam cushion to sit on and not much leg room. Since I was soaking wet, I got the front seat to myself, while the others hunched up their knees to fit into the small space.

Our driver gunned the engine and we were off. The roar of the engine was deafening. No chance to hear anyone, we used sign language to point out things and communicate. The spray off the water hit our visors. We pulled into a floating `garage` by the riverside to fill up. I`d never seen one of these before. Just a diesel pump in a bamboo shack.

As the rain lifted, we were surrounded by lush hillsides covered in tropical rain forest and shrouded in mist. The Land that Time Forgot. The vegetation stretched all the way to the water`s edge and creepers overhung the river. It was like a scene out of the movie Apocolypse Now and I expected Martin Sheen to appear on the riverside waving Marlon Brandon`s head.

The Mekong River was a vast surface of brown muddy water. It was like gliding over sticky toffee or brown marble/glass. Zoe described our ride as "like ice skating in a car across mud, using the handbrake to scream around". The driver/pilot kept the engine gunned at around 50kph. I felt like Donald Campbell trying to beat the Land Speed record on Lake Windermere, England in the 1960s. The riverbank flew past.

The pilot kept the boat into the riverbanks at every opportunity, where the water was smoother. We would cruise around tight bends right in by the bank , then tack across to the other side to shorten the trip along the meandering river. In the middle, the fast flowing river was choppy and we crashed through the waves. Large eddies of water swirled around menacingly. We crashed into one (like a huge watery pothole) and crashed out again, as a huge wave sprayed the entire boat.

The driver had to know the river well and stay alert for various obstacles, which appeared without warning. Submerged tree-trunks (some over 30ft long) and large logs floated downstream. We would scream around them and the protruding rocks everywhere. It was a very exhilerating ride Ethe most dramatic of our trip so far.

There was little inhabitation. We would fly past small hamlets of floating boats. Locals were casting their fishing nets or laying conical bamboo whicker traps on the mud banks with a booby-trap door that would descend if anything entered . Women and children bathed in the muddy water. A few bamboo shacks with straw roofs sat on the river edge in the middle of nowhere.

After 90 minutes of roaring up the river, we pulled in for a toilet stop. I headed for the bank to find a secluded spot, started walking across the mud and disappeared up to my thighs. Nice one Bob. We continued for another 90 minutes (those submerged rocks sure did look close!) until we reached the halfway point of Pakbeng where the slow boats moored up for the night. There appeared to be no accommodation, just an overpriced floating cafE I was now glad we were going all the way in one day.

We spent an hour there, waiting for speedboats to arrive from the north. We swapped boats, as our pilot headed back down river. There was a shortage of `safety gear`. I got a life jacket but no helmet. No problem. The sun was out and the breeze was wonderful on the face. I was still deaf from the first stage. Maize fields started to appear on the hills near the river. I spotted an elephant by the water (the last of the million?). The river was gentler because it was much wider but we had miles of tacking to get around the bends. The clouds had disappeared, the hillsides became shorter but were still covered in rain forest. At another floating boat, we changed speedboats for a final time. This time I got neither helmet or life jacket. The engine would occasionally backfire and we would splutter to a halt. As the pilot tinkered with the engine, we would rapidly drift down river.

The final stretch was very fast, which was just as well because the Lao-Thai border was due to close at 6pm. We pulled into a muddy bank to climb off the boat (backsides numbed) around 5.30pm where a tuk-tuk took us to into the Huay Xai town centre. We walked down to the river`s edge to Lao immigration, then caught a ferry across the river to Thai immigration at Chiang Thong. We managed to do both in 20 minutes including the ride. The smoothest border yet and the most picturesque. Both Huay Xai and Chiang Thong were well presented. Clean, good roads and friendly people. Really nice places to stay if you had the time and inclination. We were back in Thailand on Day 281; a return to our 11th country. It felt good to be back.

As regards Laos, I highly recommend it. The guidebooks are hopelessly out of date so ignore them. It was the most laid back place I have ever visited. Even more laid back than Myanmar and that says something. The speedboat ride is worth the visit alone. Like Cambodia, It is just gearing up to mass tourism, but the people have yet to become jaded by tourists and you will get a lovely smile, a relaxed welcome and very cheap prices. Bob Jack says `Check it out!`

Costs in Laos for 9 days (in British Pounds Sterling)

Travel - £20.66 (including $22.50 speedboat ride)
Accommodation - £22.16
Food - £21.85
Other - £20.10 (including a lot of internet use)
Total - £94.77

Grand Total - £4339.73