‘My name is Death’. A dark form blotted out the light, and I looked up from the café table. Laos had seemed very pleasant up till then – certainly no hint of impending doom. ‘Spelt D – E – T – H’, continued the figure,…Read More

‘My name is Death’. A dark form blotted out the light, and I looked up from the café table. Laos had seemed very pleasant up till then – certainly no hint of impending doom.
‘Spelt D – E – T – H’, continued the figure, grinning and offering his hand. ‘I’m your guide.’
Deth is a teacher at a local school and works part-time as a guide. He lives in southern Laos, which gets hardly any tourists. Most visitors to the country head straight to the World Heritage Site of Luang Prabang, in the north, perhaps stopping off briefly in the still-sleepy capital, Vientiane.
But other places are also starting to appear on the tourist radar: there are well-organised treks in Luang Namtha, in the north-west, while on the other side of the country, the Viengxay Caves are a new attraction. The labyrinth of caves was created by the Communist Pathet Lao during their struggle against the US-backed monarchy in the 1960s and 1970s, and were also used by the Viet Cong to shelter from US bombing raids along the Lao-Vietnam border.
In the south, it was a very different cave that we planned to visit. In addition to me, our group consisted of an Irishman called Robert, an Englishman called Robert (‘Robert the Younger’), two Laotians, Toon and Tot, and a Belgian woman, Katelijne.
Our journey led from Vientiane along Highway 13 to Thakek, Savannakhet and Pakse, all former ports along the mighty Mekong. These provincial towns are just emerging from the somnolence of post-colonialism and the economic straitjacket of Communism, and – as with Luang Prabang – retain many of their fine, French-era buildings.
Another writer has said that southern Laos isn’t about seeing, it’s about feeling – about getting the feel of this varied, laid-back country, hyped as the Land of a Million Elephants. To me, it felt more like the Land of a Million Smiles, as everyone we met welcomed us to their homeland with unassuming friendliness..
Deth, a guide from the nearby village called Doi and a small brown dog took us through forest to the Tat Nam Sam twin waterfall, plunging hundreds of feet down the end wall of a gorge in a spectacular display of spray and light. After the tough scramble to get there, we cooled off in a turbulent pool lower down the river - better than any Jacuzzi. On the return hike I walked with just the small dog as a guide, wondering where the others were. I later discovered they’d been tending to Robert the Irishman, who tripped over a tree-root and damaged himself slightly. I thought about the Australian hiker who had disappeared here earlier in the year and was found barely alive 10 days later; I stuck very carefully to the path, trusting that the dog knew where it was going (it did).
It was raining heavily when we reached our final destination on the first day away from Vientiane and slithered across plank walkways to stilted houses for the night. The villagers showed us to a wood-and-bamboo house where we slept, having first shared a meal and experienced the baci ceremony, a ritual of offerings, prayer and mutual good wishes.
Early next morning we went with the villagers to the local temple, where a solitary monk accepted our alms and rice and blessed us in return. It was peaceful and moving, unlike the tourist-focused circus which the alms-giving ceremony in Luang Prabang has now become.
Solicitously checking our life-jackets, Deth helped us into long, thin motorised canoes for a half-hour journey upstream to one of the most fabulous natural attractions of Laos. The boat-men switched on their head-torches and we puttered slowly into the mouth of a tunnel. Perhaps ‘Death’ was right after all, as the light faded and we entered blackness, the still blacker water of the river sliding beneath us. In the past, the local people too thought the tunnel led into the bowels of the earth – until they noticed ducks appearing from the cave, clearly emanating from an upper rather than a nether-world. Brave men had ventured boldly into the cave, paddling upstream for an astonishing 7 kilometres to emerge in a river gorge at the far end.
Now, the Kong Lor cave trip is fast becoming a ‘must-see’ place to visit. Half-way along, we stopped at a sandy river-beach and scrambled into the caves to peer at the ancient rock formations. At the other end of the tunnel the boat-men dragged the canoes through shallow rapids, and light beckoned us into the gorge and soon into farmland. We ate lunch – duck stew – at the village the other side of the cave – there’s even a tourist guesthouse here, built some way from the village houses. It’s simple – mattresses-on-the-floor style – but adequate.
We headed back through the tunnel to the village where we’d spent the night, collected our bags and continued to Thakek, where the cheerful Deth left us – most of the local guides only operate in their home area, although there’s always a competent handover.
Unfortunately we didn’t have time to see the Buddha Cave, with its 229 ancient statues, discovered by chance only in 2004 and now attracting Buddhist pilgrims from Thailand as well as Laos. Instead, we headed to Savannakhet and stayed at the Sala Savanh, a former colonial building pleasantly converted into an atmospheric small hotel, with time-darkened wooden floors and chairs on balconies round the upper-floor rooms. There’s a surprisingly good choice of restaurants, perhaps a legacy from the French colonial period: we ate at a charming restaurant on the main square one night and on the next at a floating restaurant on the Mekong, outlined in coloured lights and bobbing gently with the swell of the river. Savannakhet has a thriving nightlife, too - Toon, Tot and Robert the Younger selflessly sampled it on behalf of all of us.
We stayed two nights at the Sala Savanh and toured the surrounding area. We climbed into a brightly ornamented ‘tuk-tuk’ – the ubiquitous hired transport in Asia – along with a guide from the local cooperative. Si Na Khone was, again, a school-teacher. She was married four months previously and her husband, she said, is a mechanical soldier. ‘You mean …’ I hesitated, wondering what she meant. Inspiration struck: ‘an army mechanic!’
Our first port of call was a salt-mine where huge salty pools evaporated slowly in shallow concrete vats, with the concentrated residue drying in great iron pans with constant fires beneath. Finally, the salt was iodised (it helps prevent thyroid problems) and packed for sale.
After the salt-works we headed into the Dong Na Tad forest, threading along a narrow trail between the trees, stopping occasionally while another local guide – Bouna, from the nearby village - explained how trees and other plants were used locally. I was impressed with the level of organisation here – the local man didn’t speak English, so Si Na Khone translated – meaning a shared income all round. We ate a picnic of local snack foods bought from the local market and, while we raced the ants to the food, our guides related how the forest and its central lake were named: as so often in legend, it involved a tragic tale of unfulfilled love between two young people.
A short walk from the forest was the That Ing Hang temple, one of the holiest sites in Laos because of its 9th century stupa. Coach-loads of Thai pilgrims from across the border descend here to pray and rows of seated, gold-painted Buddha statues testify to the supplicants who have donated money. We wore borrowed sarongs from the gate-house and wandered respectfully round the temple grounds.
Our final night was spent at the delightful Kingfisher Lodge, near Pakse. The lodges look out over flooded paddy-fields, with hammocks so you can lie back and enjoy the scenery. The Italian owner, Massimo, and his Lao wife Bangon set the business up to take advantage of the increasing interest in southern Laos.
Close by is Mount Phou Asa, a forested outcrop standing up above the plains where black columns of flat stones mark the site of a former temple. The villagers nearby have traditionally owned elephants which now take tourists up the hill: ‘Phou Asa Elephant Ripe’, announced our tickets. After gently swaying up a forested track, we descended from the elephant to explore the smooth rock summit, amongst rain-fed pools and tranquil groves and the temple pillars. Birds flitted back and forth and, looking outwards, the plains stretched far into the distance.
It was time to leave Laos and head back to Thailand. We said farewell to our Lao companions and glanced back as they smiled and waved: there had been only one elephant, but the smiles were of infinite number.
* * * * * * *

My visit in Laos was hosted by Viengchampa Tours and Travel, www.viengchampatour.com   Close

It took us about 18 hours to travel from Singapore to Laos (flight to Bangkok, overnight train across Thailand to the border, and a bus over the Mekong), and the contrast could hardly have been greater. Singapore is a gleaming, wealthy, dynamic, high-rise city. Vientiane…Read More

It took us about 18 hours to travel from Singapore to Laos (flight to Bangkok, overnight train across Thailand to the border, and a bus over the Mekong), and the contrast could hardly have been greater. Singapore is a gleaming, wealthy, dynamic, high-rise city. Vientiane (the Lao capital) is just the opposite. Laos is one of the poorest countries in the world, and Vientiane has the air of a decaying, sleepy, and grubby provincial town. There are hints of a more prosperous past, with crumbling villas that once would have housed the French colonial rulers.

Our first full day in the country was spent trekking through the jungle in a national park a couple of hours to the east of Vientiane. Our objective was a waterfall, and we were to take a boat trip before making our way on foot through the jungle. It didn't quite go as planned, as the engine of the boat cut out and we had to walk further than expected, but it was a great day anyway. We were stopped by police on the way back to Vientiane that evening. There was nothing wrong with our minibus (other than the fact that we had to push-start it on several occasions during the day), and our papers were all in order. However, our guides did feel it necessary to hand over some money to the police, nominally so that they could supply themselves with coffee during their period of duty by the roadside. A likely story...

We had no idea when we sat down for breakfast the next morning how our plans for the next day and a half were going to turn out. We were introduced to a Vietnamese lady who works for a charity in Laos, and she invited us to visit a local school, Don Koi, that she works with. 'Invited' isn't quite the right word - she has the kind of forceful personality to which it is difficult to say 'no' (although we were more than happy to go). Actually, her project provides after-school activities in a building adjacent to the school that gives children the chance to learn useful skills (carpentry, weaving, etc.), and encourages them to stay at school until their education is complete, as well as having fun. Many of the volunteers who help run the project are young people who either have had problems (typically drug-related) or would be at risk of such problems. We were treated to a drama performance, which the children enjoyed - and so did we. The typical salary of a teacher in Laos is US$20, and the only resources they get are a blackboard and an annual allowance of chalk.

Our Vietnamese host does a wonderful job of getting other resources from places like the local international school (which we also visited). I do wish the children at the international school weren't dropped off at school in 4-wheel-drives that were quite as enormous. The next morning, we joined a group of children from the school at Don Koi, and some from the international school, in the rice field to cut rice. My wife and her teaching colleague became very nervous when they saw the sharp implements the children would be wielding, so lent a hand to prevent accidents. They were quite glad not to be responsible for the trip.

The northeast is the most remote area in the country. There are three points of interest: Phonsavan, Xam Nua and Phongsaly. It is possible to make a loop among the three or to approach the towns in the way from or to South Vietnam. For…Read More

The northeast is the most remote area in the country. There are three points of interest: Phonsavan, Xam Nua and Phongsaly. It is possible to make a loop among the three or to approach the towns in the way from or to South Vietnam. For information regarding the last option, please see my journal Planning Vietnam.

Phonsavan

Phonsavan can be reached from Vientiane, Vang Vieng (the buses from Vientiane stop there) and from Luang Prabang. However, if entering Laos from the north and planning to continue to the northeast, then Udom Xai or Luang Prabang are the best connecting points.

The town of Phonsavan was devastated in the Second Indochina War; that is evident from the deforested areas and the several guesthouses with bomb-casing collections in their lobbies. The main attraction, beyond the Ho Chi Minh Trail, is the Plain of Jars, where hundreds of stone jars of different sizes are scattered. There are four main sites and the closest of them is almost ten kilometers away from the town. Since it is a tourists' site, traveling there from the town can cost as much as reaching Phonsavan. Better options are to rent a bike or to walk there.

The trucks to Xam Nua leave at 07:30 and the bus to Udom Xai at 09:50, both from the terminal. The long way to Vientiane is better split through Luang Prabang.

Xam Nua

From Phonsavan to Xam Nua is a relatively short way; see my Xam Nua journal for details. The town is the only Laotian one east of the Annamite Mountains; therefore, the way there climbs the mountains and then descends a steep road into a beautiful and narrow valley among green mountains.

Although there's little to see in the town itself, it serves as a comfortable base for the Viang Xai Caves, hill tribe villages, and trips along the Vietnamese frontier.

Traveling from here to Udom Xai is a bit complicated, because there isn't a direct connection. At 07:30 the bus to Luang Prabang and Vientiane leaves from the terminal. After a long torture, the bus arrives at Ban Pakmong after 23:00; this village is the place to catch any bus to Udom Xai. It is possible to wait at the tiny bus stop there, but it would be more sensible to sleep in one of the precarious guesthouses and continue the next morning. Another option is to continue south to Luang Prabang, the bus arrives there at around 04:00; if heading north, any bus will return to Ban Pakmong, but Luang Prabang offers much better facilities. For details about attractions along this way, see my Xam Nua journal.

Pathet Lao caves and Viang Xai

The limestone karst formations in the valleys east of Xam Nua were the perfect hideouts for the Pathet Lao's parallel government, which occupied more than one hundred of them. Tours from Viang Xai take around two hours and allow an easy return to Xam Nua in the same day. Trucks from Xam Nua (30min; 5000K) leave every hour until mid-afternoon and stop in front of Viang Xai's market. The town was the Pathet Lao wartime headquarters, but not much was left behind once they moved to Vientiane. The Spartan facilities hint to explore the town and the caves while staying in a guesthouse in the nearby Xam Nua. To tour the caves, a fee should be paid at the tourist office.

Phongsaly is maybe the smallest and wildest province capital in the country. Its tourism infrastructure is not very well developed and its cross to China is not open to foreigners. To reach Phongsaly from Xam Nua, you must go through Udom Xai, from where you have a rough ride of a few hours in the back of a truck.
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My second day in Laos and my first experience of the infamously awful Lao roads and what a trip to choose for the first! The boat trip to Xieng Kok by the Burmese border wasn't possible from Huay Xai unless I sat around and tried to rustle up…Read More

My second day in Laos and my first experience of the infamously awful Lao roads and what a trip to choose for the first! The boat trip to Xieng Kok by the Burmese border wasn't possible from Huay Xai unless I sat around and tried to rustle up some people to share the boat with and I wanted to get moving. The lady at the BAP Guesthouse told me that transport left from the speedboat jetty 4kms south of town at 9am. Having then walked there to arrive in good time, I found out that the actual departure time was 11am!

The pick-ups making the journey take three passengers in the cab behind the driver and his assistant and an infinite number ("comfortably" 10 but usually 15+) on two rows of seat in the back. Room is then made in the middle for cargo, extra passengers picked up on the way and sundry bags of fruit vegetables and animals rendering the journey cramped and not too comfy. Two of these pick-ups left for Luang Nam Tha together with ample room for the six of us in each. We hardly had time to enjoy this spacious luxury before we stopped at a warehouse and had 6 50kg bags of rice loaded into the space in the middle of the rows of seats! We didn't realise how lucky we were as we set off again because, 45 minutes later, the first pick-up broke down and all it's passengers then piled into ours! So, squashed together on a wooden bench, feet on rice sacks, knees under our chins we set off for only another seven hours on a road resembling the face of an acned teenager! We stopped every two hours so we could get out and oil our rusty limbs and get some circulation going in our nether regions! Five minutes later and we were bumping and rolling on our way again. In the wet season, a lot of these unpaved roads become impassable for small vehicles and landslides and treefall can block the roads completely for days.

In the dry season, dust is a huge problem. Luckily, there are few vehicles on the road to stir it up but something to clamp over ones mouth and nose when the need arises is a distinctly good idea. If you end up stuck behind another vehicle well, you can forget about the views and just start thinking about the shower you are so looking forward to when you get to your destination! You'll be enveloped in a huge dust cloud while the driver tries to manoeuvre a way round the culprit- not very easy on narrow, bumpy, windy, hilly roads when you can see only as far as your own windscreen!

Certainly it takes a bit of roughing it and stamina to make these journeys that even the locals find tough but, this is Laos and the scenery along the way; traditional villages, rivers, mountains, forest, etc. is worth the effort and there becomes a sort of cameraderie with the local on the vehicle as you start to squirm to try and find a bit of your bum you haven't used yet to sit on! The ever-smiling, waving kids at roadside help take your mind off the discomfort and, hey, you're ready for the next leg of your journey next day!

Anyone reading my journal entries for the road journeys in Laos who hasn't travelled north of Luang Prabang may well think I've made all this up about the awful, dusty roads! Why? Having made the journey south from Udomxai to Vientiane via Luang Prabang, it…Read More

Anyone reading my journal entries for the road journeys in Laos who hasn't travelled north of Luang Prabang may well think I've made all this up about the awful, dusty roads! Why? Having made the journey south from Udomxai to Vientiane via Luang Prabang, it seems like a different country than the one I've been in for the past month! Surfaced roads with only rare glimpses of the endangered pothole I've grown to love (sort of!). Overhead power cables linking all the roadside villages; indeed, even 24-hour electricity in L.P. and Vientiane—technology gone mad!

Starting off in a small pick-up in Udomxai, we were all freezing when we got steamed up and the wind started whistling through the back where we all sat. I hadn't been in a vehicle that had got out of second gear for nearly a month, and here we are ripping along at a rate of knots! No time for passing waves and "Sabai Dii"s to and from the kids. They must've wondered what that momentary flash was when they looked up from their Thai soap operas as we sped by! A 4-hour dash that would have had us tested for drugs on any Grand Prix circuit got us to Luang Prabang just after lunch! I could only spend one afternoon in L.P., as my Lao visa was expiring in 2 days' time and it takes a whole day to get to Vientiane and the Thai border.

Next morning, things got very surreal. I got on an actual bus with individual seats and everything! It even left Vientaine at spot-on the scheduled departure time! Not a lot of scenery to report on here for the first half of the trip, as a torrential downpour for two hours the previous evening in L.P. had left everything thick with cloud and mist. It thoughtfully cleared as we approached Phu Pha, a fantastically rugged limestone peak still dappled with blobs of cloud. Hard to get a photograph from out of the bus window as we were winding frantically down a hillside, but my luck was in! A lorry had overturned passing over a part of the road where there'd been a mud slide. It was blocking most of the road and we had to stop. Everyone got out to survey the damage—everyone except one who hightailed it back up the road half a kilometer to get that photo of Phu Pha I'd asked Father Christmas for (see, he does exist!). After a 20-minute chat about things, it was decided that the bus could squeeze past after all and we were careering on our way downwards once again as the young chap next to me filled his fourth sickbag! (The lorry driver was OK, by the way!) We pulled into Vientiane without further ado around 3pm, and I'm now back in Thailand planning a second visa and another 30 days in Laos just to see if those roads really exist or it was a weird dream!

The first leg of this trip began in Udomxai bus station on the first pick-up to Muang Khua at 9am. Being a bit of a travel snob and wanting to go to places and make journeys that the locals make and tourists don't, I was…Read More

The first leg of this trip began in Udomxai bus station on the first pick-up to Muang Khua at 9am. Being a bit of a travel snob and wanting to go to places and make journeys that the locals make and tourists don't, I was a little disappointed to see another tourist arriving at the same pick-up to make the same journey to Phongsali! I was less disappointed to see that she reacted the same way, so I'm not the only travel snob! The rest of the pick-up was well and truly local, and after the usual false starts—calling in at the petrol station, the driver's mates and to pick up someone's luggage—we finally left Udomxai along another god-awful, dusty road with gorgeous scenery.

The trip to Muang Khua took just under four hours, but sometime soon, it'll be half that. I met later, in Phongsali, an engineer about to start work on resurfacing this stretch of Route 4 in December. Passing roadside villages of wooden huts and thatched roofs and the ubiquitous dozens of kids, the trip was pretty uneventful, dropping us in Muang Khua at about 1pm. The other tourist and I had got chatting, and Annetta from Holland was a lot more optimistic than me about getting a boat to Hat Sa that afternoon. We were told by one guesthouse owner in Muang Khua that there wouldn't be another boat until 8am the next morning, but we found a boatman who told us he had to get back to Hat Sa that afternoon and would take us and the lone local waiting, for the normal price of 40,000 kip. A quick turn round Muang Khua market looking for lunch turned up such delicacies as squirrel and crow! I played it safe with sausage and sticky rice to eat on the boat (but who knows what's in the sausage?!).

Our boat was a long wooden canoe with a very loud engine, but at last transport with leg-room! There was a lot of river activity on the Nam Ou; we were on the river at the right time of day, as the mountains start to provide shade for the fishermen from about 3pm. It meant the light was not too good for photographs, though. We passed through several sets of rapids, some of them looking alarmingly frisky as we approached! We picked up a few villagers on their way to other villages and rolled into Hat Sa, the boat jetty for Phongsali, at about 5.30pm.

Hiring a bike is the way to really discover Muang Sing, and a bit of hiking from the end of the road can get you to some pretty remote villages. The bikes for hire around town are ordinary street bikes and not really suited for…Read More

Hiring a bike is the way to really discover Muang Sing, and a bit of hiking from the end of the road can get you to some pretty remote villages. The bikes for hire around town are ordinary street bikes and not really suited for the rocky dirt roads around Muang Sing, so give your bike a thorough check before setting off, because anything slightly loose will be shaken free just when you're miles from anywhere! A couple of basic sketch maps are available from guesthouses and bike-hire shops, but there's little detail. Just pick a direction and cycle off! I found that heading off the main roads and down the narrower tractor trails not only avoided any passing traffic and the following dust cloud, but also took me through some less-visited villages.

The road leading southeast by the visitor centre has a couple of dirt options about 20 minutes from town. Inevitably, after an hour or so pedalling steadily uphill, the tracks ended at an Akha village characterised by the spirit gate at the entrances and exits to the village. A basic wooden arch was decorated with symbols and carved figures to ward off bad spirits. Don't walk under these gates; definitely don't touch them; taking photos of them will also make you unpopular in the village if you're spotted. By walking through these villages, I found each time a steeper walking trail or unused vehicle track running into the mountains. If you have the time, stamina, and curiosity, you can find some very remote villages here. I walked for three hours up a steep track from Huay Kham village through forest and past stunning views of the area the higher I got, until I came to a grassy plateau on a ridge. I met an Akha villager here going hunting with a homemade rifle. The metal trigger mechanism on the wooden stock was like an old-fashioned Flintlock pistol with a small pan for the gunpowder.

The safety catch wedged between the pan and the trigger was a school pencil eraser tied on with a bit of string! I can't begin to guess how far I could see from this point, but it was a really spectacular vista of valleys and mountains when the clouds cleared. Unfortunately, at around noon, the clouds decided to settle here and shed their cargo, and I faced a 3-hour walk back in heavy rain. The track had become a slippery, muddy stream within 10 minutes, and I was a very bedraggled, forlorn character arriving back in Muang Sing, where the sun was shining and had been all day! Undeterred, but slightly sore, I was off again next day!

Visitors should be aware that Laos is not Thailand, or Malaysia, or Singapore. It is much less well-developed, having barely emerged from a Communist past. People are poorer, the sanitation is not as good, the chances of getting sick are higher. All…Read More

Visitors should be aware that Laos is not Thailand, or Malaysia, or Singapore. It is much less well-developed, having barely emerged from a Communist past. People are poorer, the sanitation is not as good, the chances of getting sick are higher. All that said, it is (possibly) the only country in SE Asia that bares any resemblance to what the region once was: culturally unique. To me, it reminds me a lot of the Thailand of the late 1960s, when I was first there.

Visas: Nationals of countries with money, i.e., the West and Japan, can enter the country without a visa at either the Freedom Bridge opposite Nong Khai (Thailand) or at Vientiane Airport. For US $50, cash they stamp in the visa and off you go. As I recall it was valid for 14 days. If you want to stay longer, visas may be extendable in the country; I would check at a Lao Embassy to make sure, however. Whether it is now possible to get a visa at Luang Prabang Airport, I don't know. It would be worth checking. Otherwise, you''ll have to get it in advance, and that means, almost inevitably, a stop in Bangkok.

Land transport:
The highway between Vientiane and Luang Prabang is still not finished; much of it is only dirt or gravel, so travel over it during the rainy season is problematic at best. Additionally, there are still occasional bandit/guerilla attacks on trucks and buses; hence, it's wiser to fly in or arrive on a Mekong ferry.

Food:
Most restaurants seem to be pretty safe; street stalls are very likely less so. I didn't take any chances. Having said that, Lao food is pretty interesting. I had a quite remarkable fish concoction that was rather like a French terrine that had been steamed in a banana leaf. It's not as fabulously hot as Thai food, either, so you aren't as likely to feel as if your head was about to explode after biting into an especially nasty Thai chili.

Because of Laos' French colonial past, you find baguettes and brioches almost everywhere, which is absolutely amazing considering where one is...   Close

The long, thin wooden boats are simple transports. The boats seem fairly safe – no scary rapids or anything – and are covered with a wooden or zinc roof and open-air side windows. You sit on hard wooden benches packed in with your…Read More

The long, thin wooden boats are simple transports. The boats seem fairly safe – no scary rapids or anything – and are covered with a wooden or zinc roof and open-air side windows. You sit on hard wooden benches packed in with your luggage, and freight. As there is really no bathrooms, it is advisable not to drink a lot before you get on, because once on, there is no getting off until Pak Bang about ten hours later.

The boat I was on had a small deck on the rear. This was where there was a hole in the deck that served as a sort of bathroom.

You basically sit and play cards, write letters, or whatever and enjoy the scenery, which is really the best part. The Mekong River passes through gorges, and flats that are surrounded by jungle, or limestone cliffs, and makes one feel that they are in the middle of nowhere – which you are. There are some birds to be seen. Although, I am not an expert they looked like hawks or eagles, and there were some others that resembled large parrots. The boat makes occasional stops, but just brief ones to pick up or drop off at villages along the way.

At the end of the first day, the boat stops at Pak Bang, a very small village with stone, and concrete buildings and electricity. Once off the boat, all the foreigners rush up the hill to get a room at the few hotels. Don’t be fooled by looks. The more modern structures are, according to people who stayed there and told me, not that nice. I heard stories of rats and bugs in the night. Basically, the entire town is really bare bones.

The hotel I stayed at was on the left going up the main street (there is only one). About half way up the hill, on the left is a small, two-story hotel made of thatched bamboo. The sign in the front said “Rooms.” The cost was .50¢. My second floor room, in a futon bed with a mosquito net was great. No windows or heat, but no one else in the stone buildings had them either.

There is a bathroom across the street, and the manual shower was in the bottom floor. Manual shower means a 50-gallon steel drum of rainwater and plastic pail.

The best restaurant is the first one on the left up from the boat landing. They serve Lao food and fairly good egg sandwiches. Fruits were better. Needless to say this town has even less, in the way of ammenities, than Huay Xai. Electricity goes off in the town at 10 pm when they shut down the generator.

Day two on the river is about the same. I was really glad to get off the boat when we reached Luang Prabang after another 8 or 10 hour ride. In Luang Prabang, the mad dash of foreigners to find hotels starts again. Because Luang Prabang is much bigger, in minutes, everyone disappears into Song Thaews.

You have arrived in one of the best cities in all of Laos.    Close

You have two choices: slow and fast. Slow takes two days and stops at the village of Pak Bang overnight, where there are a few, what can be loosely termed, hotels. I did this. Fast is one day and takes about 6 hours.…Read More

You have two choices: slow and fast. Slow takes two days and stops at the village of Pak Bang overnight, where there are a few, what can be loosely termed, hotels. I did this.

Fast is one day and takes about 6 hours. If you decide on taking the slow boat, you will see the fast people wearing crash helmets occasionally speeding by in really small, noisy, aluminum boats. Some fast people will wave. The slow boat is better.

I spoke with someone who took the fast boat. Apparently, it is fast but painfully cramped and very bumpy. The two-day slow boat seems more romantic, but really, it is just cramped and slow. The only caveat is that the price is a lot less--about $15 versus $50 (depending on the exchange); and you are actually able to see the scenery.

The scenery is great. There is dense jungle on both sides of the river, an occasional mountain, and some very small thatched hut villages.

For the speedboats take a taxi (song thaew) to the landing south of the main market.

For the slow boats, go north to the end of the main street where there is a stone gateway. The launch area is behind the house here, on the right. There is also a good restaurant further off to the right, closer to the shore.

Do not miss the spiders on the way to the boat launch. Walking down the street to the boat landing, look up and check out the huge spiders and webs strung between the power lines that crisscross the road from time to time.

The boats leave in the morning, and I was told, only when there are enough people to fill it. This is not a problem, as far as I heard. Every traveler I met on this route got on the river when they wanted to. The boats hold about 30 passengers at the start. They pick up others at villages along the way, along with chickens, 50lb sacks of rice, tractor parts, gasoline, and assorted other freight.    Close