Saturday July 9, 2011
Enjoying, or perhaps tolerating each other’s company enough, Rudolph and I departed from the hustle and bustle of Vientiane and headed north up to Vang Vieng. It was a relatively short 5 hour bus ride and had us arriving yesterday in the early afternoon. It wasn’t too many years prior that this destination was sought out for the surrounding natural beauty that can be accessed, with caves and waterfalls being the primary attractions. As of late it has changed into a small rowdy party town full of young backpackers. The Nang Som river flows through the town and some enterprising local has built a fine industry for those who wish to float down on large inner tubes. And so, most visitors here appear to be even younger than myself and are hell bent on floating and consuming massive amounts of alcohol, or typically a combination of both. When they aren’t on the river they can be found in one of many café restaurants watching reruns of Friends and Family Guy. It is a strange place here in Vang Vieng, a sort of surreal pocket of Western culture and quiet Laos life. Although this is not a place I could be for an extended period of time it is a fun experience nonetheless. I believe we will float the river tomorrow or the following day and see if we can survive with the youthful crowds.
Tuesday July 12, 2011
I am sitting on a bus from Vang Vieng headed further north into Laos to the town of Luang Probang. Although they call it VIP there is little surrounding me to indicate that any of the passengers nor my upcoming trip will have anything associated with VIP; except for the those letters semi-painted on the front of the bus. As the bus lacks air conditioning we are dependent on the small windows which do little when we never drive faster than 15 mph as we climb our way along the steep mountain roads. Alas, I have been afforded the opportunity to sit and write about the past few sublime days.
So as it would turn out we never did float the river, in an inner tube at least. Our party of two grew to a party of three as we met up with a British chap that had been staying in our previous guest house in Vientiane. David exists somewhere in his 40’s and seems to be enjoying the life of a worldly ski bum as he travels the world in the off season and snowboards a new location around the globe once the snow flies. Like me he enjoys a cold Beerlao (or two) and we have found ourselves drifting into raucous banter over American politics and our [apparent] problems. Nothing quite brings out the dissatisfaction with another’s country as a round table discussion at a Laos restaurant with bottles of beer providing unspoken input. So it was with David’s addition to our group that our average age increased and the group majority voted against floating the river like young drunken idiots. It is with humorous irony that I found myself blighted by our beloved system of Democracy.
So instead we decided to kayak down the same river, in a sober and still enjoyable fashion. It proved to be an excellent decision as four of us and our guide were driven roughly ten miles upstream to an unmarked starting point. It is now from the safety from my current [dry] location that I can admit that tubing on the Nam Song claims the lives of a handful of youth every year. These deaths are due to the mixture of drugs, alcohol and flowing current. Having become a popular attraction overnight, ambitious locals built zip lines, rave dance bars and water slides along the river bank where less than keen young adults flock. And so lacking the safety of OSHA regulations an average of 10 kids die every year along these banks. This year was the worst yet as a local restaurant owner had told us that last week the body count had surmounted 24, as once again a young Australian man met his fate. Our kayak adventure beheld none of these dangers as we had life jackets and a very informative 90 second demonstration on how to operate our sea kayak. With the river flowing at a decent clip paddling was not always necessary as we drifted along the muddy banks, pausing only a moment when David fell off his kayak. We were granted an unknown bonus when our guide had us stop at one point and we walked a few minutes up a bank to a cave. We jumped in the water and were able to swim 100 feet into the opening before it became too dark to continue. I was convinced Batman was lurking somewhere behind the stalagmites but as our stomachs grumbled we had no choice but to return and make an end to our floating adventure.
On another afternoon we rented some mountain bikes and struck off with a hand drawn map to where we were told should be some other caves. It was a horrendously muddy commute, but with only a little back-tracking we found ourselves to the promised destination. Always a fee to do something we paid to cross a rickety bridge and paid again to enter the cave. It was strange though since cave was not a government maintained site nor did it seem to be on private property but there were locals who were willing to collect money for our entrance. It’s hard to be upset when the tax is being collected from a smiling shirtless boy who hasn’t seen his seventh birthday. From where we parked our bikes it was an exceptionally steep but short hike upward into the mouth of the cave. Having begun our journey with the aid of the blistering sun we had left our headlamps at home, thus limiting our cave experience. It was nothing spectacular; damp, cool and dark. The real enjoyment was back at the bikes where there was a small but ample swimming hole that was of little secret to those who lived close. With a large tree extending over the pool, any who dared was supplied with diving platforms of various heights. My companion Rudolf took to the trees like a monkey as endless jumping and flipping could never fully satisfy him. For being 7 years my senior the smile on his face would have convinced even hardest of sight that Rudolf had teleported back to his youth. I preferred to lounge in the water below and doggy paddle with one hand as I snapped photos of him and the others who braved the natural diving board.
It was later this night that we discovered a real gem of a restaurant. It is a good practice for any traveler to walk the streets during dinner and see where the locals prefer to eat. Vang Vieng is plagued with a plethora of eateries that seem to photocopy each other’s menu and close their eyes while cooking the meals. Granted, many patrons are usually too drunk or stoned to know if the food is good but for our antiquated group of travelers we were looking for good local food. And so it came that “random restaurant #63” was packed full of people…and none of them were Westerners! Some pictures and a bit of English painted on the walls indicated that this location served Korean BBQ. Since none of us had really tried this food before we sat down with haste and viewed our surroundings. The idea is simple; you pick different trays of sliced meats and then cook them yourself in the middle of the table. You are provided a bucket of coals that are set in a hole in the table and a domed pan is set on top. Hot water is poured in the sombrero shaped pan so that while the meat cooks in the middle on top you throw bamboo, cabbage, noodles and eggs into the soup water and watch it boil. As fast as you can cook you eat; sweating like animals we toiled with our beef, chicken, pork, prawns and fish. It was absolutely delicious! Feasting like kings for about $6 a person we decided to return the following night for an encore performance. I walked away that night rubbing my stomach like Thanksgiving and vowing to hold back next time, well, maybe.
Thursday July 14, 2011
The last two days have been spent in the wonderful and quaint town of Luang Probang. Our group of three (Rudolf, David and me) took a bus for 8 hours that crawled its way along the winding hilly road in northern Laos. The scenery was quite good as the sparsely populated hillsides of Laos are dominated by trees that all seem to be competing to be the greenest. Upon arrival to the bus station we were met by guesthouse touts all vying for our attention. As expected the tuk-tuk taxis were also anxiously waiting to cart passengers off to destinations whose close proximity never seemed to fairly match the quoted cost. Our selection for accommodation proved reasonable as it sat within close walking distance to the town center while quietly resting above the Nang Som River.
Luang Probang itself is a beautiful, quiet and simple town with streets reminiscent of something European. Although I can’t quite put my finger on it there is something about this place that I really enjoy. It is here where the Nang Som and Mekong River meet, forming a peninsula of land that is the city center of Luang Probang. Don’t let me convince you this is a city, it is really just an oversized village. One can walk from one end to the other in a casual half hour, even pausing to watch the brown silt-filled Mekong River or enjoy a drink at one of the cafes. There is an indistinguishable air of peace in this town and it is with regret that I will be leaving it so soon. David and I have formed a friendship well enough to continue our travels together. We wish to see more of Laos via river and the next available boat leaves in the morning. Booking such a ride is more costly than bus and requires some patience as most agencies never have sufficient passengers to journey on a daily basis. So we have decided to not waste the opportunity for tomorrow’s departure.
I should mention a bit more about my time, although fleeting, spent in Luang Prabang. Like nearly every other town I have visited, Luang Probang provides a night market, but this one is better than most. The goods offered for sale do not appear cheap Chinese products, despite being a neighbor to the giant manufacturer. And although I have no interest in buying anything it was pleasant to stroll the humming little alleys, stopping only for a moment to smile at the proprietors and glance at the necklaces, chopsticks and handmade hammocks. The market also has a decent food section where one can load up a [vegetarian] plate buffet style for about $1.25. Even lacking meat for this price it is difficult to turn away and buried within the mound of food I came across new flavors and some real winners. Luckily chicken breasts and other meats can be bought for the same price as you sit sipping your Beerlao at a picnic table and watch it sizzle on a BBQ. If it wasn’t for the nightly rain and the lack of adequate cover this food market would have been one of the best places I have eaten in SE Asia.
On another night David and I found ourselves tempting the Luang Probang nightlife with other hapless tourists. The town has a curfew at 11:30 at which all bars close and guests are ushered outside, presumably to their hostels and hotels. But after reaching the street the hushed whispers of the Tuk-Tuk drivers are heard with words of a late night bowling alley floating through the air. Never one to miss an opportunity to risk a night out bowling David and I joined with a couple of others to get a ride out of town to alley. Sure enough a large and rather modern bowling alley stood with bright lights flooding from the interior. And so with the help of a bottle of Lao whiskey split among the four of us we proceeded to bowl to the best of our ability. Perhaps the change of continent or the help of the whiskey I bowled what I believe to be my best yet, at one time throwing four strikes in a row. Ultimately scores were of little importance as we chatted with other travelers hitched a ride back to our guesthouse around 2:00 am. Although great fun our bowling outing lead to a less than productive next day as much of it was spent resting and sipping the free coffee provided by our guesthouse.
