Laos: The First Part

Thursday July 7, 2011

It was just a few days ago this evening I began making my out of Bangkok in search of a new adventure within the country of Laos. When booking my ticket I was informed that the only seat available was an upper bunk sleeper with air conditioning. With Thai trains you pay more for a/c instead of a fan and to have a lower bunk instead of an upper. I may have already mentioned how the upper bunks are not built for Westerners but instead designed on the notion that 5 feet of sleeping length would not only be adequate but comfortable too; both notions of course being completely wrong. But holy hell did the a/c make up for the lack of space. Remembering I had sweat my body weight on my last train ride I was pleasantly surprised to find myself reaching for a long sleeve shirt shortly after boarding. To my chagrin the lower bunks were yet again reserved for an elderly couple of whom the husband I would at times catch stealing glances my way. Given his heritage and age I really wasn’t sure if he was staring with curiosity, disdain or was merely dozing in my direction while his wife chattered on across from him.

Our arrival was ultimately delayed a few hours giving me ample time to awake from my frigid slumber and attempt to make conversation with those around me. Anyone speaking Thai or those in large groups conversing in their native tongue I ruled out; I need not force conversation upon those that can’t, nor enter with those that have already formed a group conversation. Besides, conversation is not a thing to be forced early in the morning especially when just awaking with a bit of morning breath. I instead struck up words with a man sitting across the aisle who (and I told him later) reminded me of the Iranian leader Ahmadinejad. Realizing it is never a compliment to be told you resemble malevolent world leader I initially said he just looked Iranian. He was in fact an Austrian with blood lines coming from both Austrian and Bosnia. A man in his early 30’s he had recently finished a 3 month stint traveling India and was finishing his adventure by entering Laos. We received each other’s company well enough to cross the border together and split a room at whichever guesthouse suited us.

Lonely Planet is a company that has carved out a strong niche in the traveling world by writing travel guide books on nearly every country that sees the rising sun. Not necessarily the best choice but always the easiest to access LP has a melting pot of writers. Although at times it may be incorrect it generally offers enough information en masse that ultimately most travelers use it as their basis for picking hostels and knowing train routes. Rudolph wielding the paper edition and myself a downloaded copy, we went against our better judgment and set out to find LP’s “Recommended Pick” for a guest house in Vientiane. Many times the writers pick upon heralding that title will raise its rates knowing the weary traveler will succumb to the cost if only to stay at LP’s favorite (and get out of the burning heat). Mixay Guesthouse turned out to be a reasonably priced winner and we settled into a clean and spacious windowless oven on the second floor. It has served its purpose but it has only been thanks to the local spirits that we have been able to sleep through the heat. Having no window and only a fan to share the nights require no blanket or sheet as you continuously move about the bed trying to find that cool spot on the sheets.

Vientiane, the city of our arrival, is not only the capital but also the largest city of Laos boasting nearly 300K inhabitants. Yet this city feels much smaller, quieter and sleepier than cities half its size. It is a welcoming transition from the enormity of Bangkok and Rudolph and I have both embraced it happily. It is my understanding that the rest of Laos will likely resemble the feeling of Vientiane if only on a smaller scale. The taxi drivers seem less annoying and the people even nicer than its southern Thai neighbors. The food is good but does not match Thailand as it lacks the ubiquity of street side delights that can be had in Thailand. Regardless, it proffers with much bravado another product, Beerlao, the pride of Laos. A seemingly simple brew that may or may not have won an award at one point in its history, Beerlao may honestly be the product that this country is most proud. Personally I find it no more delicious than the other local beers I’ve had but at nearly $1 a bottle it’s hard to argue with the economics. And I should point out that a bottle in SE Asia is the size of two bottles found back in America!

Speaking of money my new destination seems to be priced quite well, although it is again a struggle to adapt to the new currency. They transact with the Kip, and at approximately 8000 Kip to 1 dollar at first glance it become confusing whether or not the midnight snack run you just made was insanely overpriced. Luckily most everything can be had cheap and so my new comrade and I decided to tour the small city via bicycle, paying just over one dollar to pedal for 24 hours.

In fact most everything we did was facilitated by our bikes. Riding bikes in Vientiane is quite easy as traffic never seems rushed and the roads have ample space for us to wind along the flat terrain. We spent much of our days touring the myriad of temples that scattered the city, at times losing our way and nagging the closest passerby hoping that they might understand us. Most lacked English but could perhaps discern the native words of our desired destination and would wave in a direction that was no clearer than if we had asked the sleeping dogs on the side of the street. Ultimately we would find our way and I would find myself looking at each temple with declining amounts of interest. The buildings have the same Buddhist architecture that is found in Thailand so it can be quick that one loses interest in the scenery. There were two locations however that caught our attention and we again visited them later at night to view them illuminated in the darkness. Unlike the other temples these two had large open plazas that resembled those of Europe, giving it a more communal social atmosphere that one does not find in the crowded streets of most American cities.