Laos has been a fixture in my imagination since my college days, when I studied the hydroelectric projects that have such a profound effect on the socioeconomic and political realms of the country. Laos (pronounced simply "Lao," the "s" is silent), inextricably linked with the Mekong River that touches a vast amount of its territory, is several steps behind its neighbors in terms of development and environmental understanding. Yet because of its relatively unspoiled nature, it is the perfect crucible to test the new mantles of environmental awareness. And, from an aesthetic perspective, it is a gorgeous country that has yet to experience the ravages heretofore inherent in mass tourism.
Even compared with Cambodia, not exactly a paragon of social or economic development, Laos is markedly more bucolic. In general terms, its citizens are far more laid-back than most we have encountered on this trip. We knew it was going to be a chill place when we noticed the hammocks strung in the back of all of the tuk-tuks, where the drivers would catch Zs when not carting around fares. Being gourmands (some would say gluttons), our only real quarrel was when the slow pace of life impacted the speed with which our food arrived. Like most Lao, those in the food service industry were in no particular hurry to prepare or serve meals, with even the simplest of repasts sometimes stretching to two or more hours.
The easygoing vibe of Lao life was an extremely peaceful milieu in which to spend a month and we loved our time there. Our positive experience was bolstered by the many friends we met along the trail in Laos who, like us, were keen to adapt to a life far removed from the rapidfire concerns of the world we left at home.
Our journey to Laos began at our hostel in Kratie, Cambodia, from which we embarked with an international cavalcade of Laos-bound travelers whom we befriended on the Irrawaddy dolphin tour the previous day. From the left are David (Belgian), Vivi (Chinese), me, Lauren, and Andreas (Swedish).
After smooth sailing through passport and visa formalities at the charmingly quaint Cambodia-Laos border crossing, our minivan made its way towards its first destination in Laos. On a particularly rough stretch of road, a huge pothole claimed the life of the van's right front strut. Here, Lauren inspects the damage. At the time, we had no idea how far we were from the end of the van journey, but still we could do nothing but laugh. Fortunately, it turned out that we were only three kilometers away from the ferry landing that we were seeking. A replacement van came within minutes and we were on our way once again.
From the ferry landing, we caught a very primitive motorized boat to Don Det, one of the Si Phan Don (Four Thousand Islands) located in the midst of the Mekong River at the far southern part of Laos.
The easygoing vibe of Lao life was an extremely peaceful milieu in which to spend a month and we loved our time there. Our positive experience was bolstered by the many friends we met along the trail in Laos who, like us, were keen to adapt to a life far removed from the rapidfire concerns of the world we left at home.
Our journey to Laos began at our hostel in Kratie, Cambodia, from which we embarked with an international cavalcade of Laos-bound travelers whom we befriended on the Irrawaddy dolphin tour the previous day. From the left are David (Belgian), Vivi (Chinese), me, Lauren, and Andreas (Swedish).
After smooth sailing through passport and visa formalities at the charmingly quaint Cambodia-Laos border crossing, our minivan made its way towards its first destination in Laos. On a particularly rough stretch of road, a huge pothole claimed the life of the van's right front strut. Here, Lauren inspects the damage. At the time, we had no idea how far we were from the end of the van journey, but still we could do nothing but laugh. Fortunately, it turned out that we were only three kilometers away from the ferry landing that we were seeking. A replacement van came within minutes and we were on our way once again.
From the ferry landing, we caught a very primitive motorized boat to Don Det, one of the Si Phan Don (Four Thousand Islands) located in the midst of the Mekong River at the far southern part of Laos.Don Det is a backpacker's paradise, with cheap lodging, a relaxed vibe, and beautiful scenery. Electricity is provided solely by generators and, by law, the generators are only to run between 6 and 10pm. For the most part, this law is obeyed, except for the restaurants when they need to use the blender to make fruit shakes. There is only one cop that even ventures to the island and that is just to ensure that the generators are off by 10pm. The locals on the island are extremely friendly and the mood is pure serenity. The relaxed environment, with very limited exception, rubs off on the young travelers that flock here, which makes Don Det blissfully free from the aggressive scene that characterizes some other backpacker haunts in Southeast Asia. The lack of late-night electricity and thus a late-night drinking spot contributes to the chill feel.
Our band of merry travelers found cheap bungalows (30,000 kip or about $3.50/night) located right on the Mekong on the sunset side of Don Det. Many hours were spent lazing about in tubes right off the shore of our bungalows or meeting new friends on the spit of land located in the background of this picture.
Come evening time, our crew and our new friends would congregate at the deck shared by our bungalows, sip on cocktails, converse, and watch the sun set. With bottles of lao-lao (rice whiskey) and Thai whiskey costing less than $1, good times were had by all.
It's hard to feel stressed when taking in scenes such as this.
On one of our first nights on Don Det, a neighboring guesthouse threw a big BBQ party and a good half or more of the people on the island were in attendance, though that still didn't amount to more than 50 people. With a fire raging in the background, we chowed down on pork and drank several bottles of lao-lao between us. It was a really excellent time that carried on until 9pm, late for Don Det.
I even managed to make a new Lao buddy.
It wasn't all relaxing during our eight days on Don Det. For example, the three dudes in our group took a leisurely bike ride to the neighboring island of Don Khong, where we did some swimming in a different part of the river and checked out some cool temples. Okay, maybe it was all relaxing. Andreas leads the pack, with me in the middle, and David cruising behind.
A couple of days later, Lauren, Andreas, and I took another bike ride to Don Khong, where Andreas snapped this picture of us in front of a really sweet waterfall.
One night, we ventured to the other side of the island to visit and dine with a cool couple that we had met on the van/ferry to Don Det. Jeff is an American with a great demeanor and a colorful past, while Sona is an awesome DJ from Istanbul. Our love affair with her city was the opening similarity that blossomed into a great friendship. Here, Lauren chills in a hammock on Jeff and Sona's balcony.
Most of our nights on Don Det were filled with relaxing meals and cocktails with a rotating cast of international characters. The lack of late-night power made our headlamps a necessity to prevent accidentally falling into the river or tripping over roots or some other calamity.
Candles, Fanta, and mozzie coils were also must-haves.
Our band of merry travelers found cheap bungalows (30,000 kip or about $3.50/night) located right on the Mekong on the sunset side of Don Det. Many hours were spent lazing about in tubes right off the shore of our bungalows or meeting new friends on the spit of land located in the background of this picture.
Come evening time, our crew and our new friends would congregate at the deck shared by our bungalows, sip on cocktails, converse, and watch the sun set. With bottles of lao-lao (rice whiskey) and Thai whiskey costing less than $1, good times were had by all.
It's hard to feel stressed when taking in scenes such as this.
On one of our first nights on Don Det, a neighboring guesthouse threw a big BBQ party and a good half or more of the people on the island were in attendance, though that still didn't amount to more than 50 people. With a fire raging in the background, we chowed down on pork and drank several bottles of lao-lao between us. It was a really excellent time that carried on until 9pm, late for Don Det.
I even managed to make a new Lao buddy.
It wasn't all relaxing during our eight days on Don Det. For example, the three dudes in our group took a leisurely bike ride to the neighboring island of Don Khong, where we did some swimming in a different part of the river and checked out some cool temples. Okay, maybe it was all relaxing. Andreas leads the pack, with me in the middle, and David cruising behind.
A couple of days later, Lauren, Andreas, and I took another bike ride to Don Khong, where Andreas snapped this picture of us in front of a really sweet waterfall.
One night, we ventured to the other side of the island to visit and dine with a cool couple that we had met on the van/ferry to Don Det. Jeff is an American with a great demeanor and a colorful past, while Sona is an awesome DJ from Istanbul. Our love affair with her city was the opening similarity that blossomed into a great friendship. Here, Lauren chills in a hammock on Jeff and Sona's balcony.
Most of our nights on Don Det were filled with relaxing meals and cocktails with a rotating cast of international characters. The lack of late-night power made our headlamps a necessity to prevent accidentally falling into the river or tripping over roots or some other calamity.
Candles, Fanta, and mozzie coils were also must-haves.I cannot confirm this medically, but I am pretty positive that our resting heartrates went down by about 10 beats per minute owing to our eight days on Don Det. It's the type of place where one could realistically spend several months. But, with only 30 total days on our Lao visa, it was time to move north. We caught a ferry to the mainland and then a minivan up to Pakse, a small town that we understand is actually the second largest city in Laos. It is something of a traveller's crossroads, with not much to do there in and of itself. However, it was our jumping-off point for a trip into a more remote part of southern Laos in and around the Bolaven Plateau. After one night in Pakse, we caught a bus for the tiny hamlet of Tad Lo, about a two hour bus ride away. We were the only non-Lao on the bus, which is always an interesting experience, though in this case, the stares we received were more inquisitive than malevolent. Fortunately, we were able to figure out which stop was ours, as the bus operator, though he didn't speak English, did understand that our destination was Tad Lo.
Tad Lo is truly a one-street affair, but is blessed with being situated right next to a beautiful series of cascading waterfalls. Owing to the fact that we were spending three nights there, one of which was Valentine's Day, we "splurged" on a room for $7/night. For that, we got a private double with bathroom and a balcony with a gorgeous view of the bottom waterfall.
Though my Masai attire (from Tanzania) is incongruous in this Asian setting, you can see our Tad Lo guesthouse in the background. It's the bigger white building right behind my head, with our room being the farthest one on the left on the second floor.
With bottles of the ubiquitous and tasty Beerlao in hand, we spent each evening on our balcony, watching the sun set over the falls. You can see the white rushes of the cascade behind the bridge underneath which the sun's reflection gleams.
You can probably make out the mohawk that I was sporting for quite a while through Laos. It wasn't super aggressive, but still caught some odd looks. Also, I quit shaving in mid-January (after Lauren's birthday) and am still rocking what has now become a beard with a length normally associated with psychopathic loner woodsmen.
On Valentine's Day, we went for an elephant trek in the jungle surrounding Tad Lo. Nothing says romance more than riding an animal with droppings bigger than one's head. On the journey aboard Ursula (our name for her), we crossed the river several times and also drew the astonished glares of some villagers.
As several pictures on this blog can attest, Lauren has an affinity for all creatures, gargantuan and small. Ursula was much more soft and gentle than her rough skin would indicate.
In the heat of the day, it was beyond refreshing to take a dip in the river and let the water of the falls beat down upon us.
Even though we were hesitant to rent our own motorbike, there was no better place to experience the thrill of piloting a moto than in the rural areas surrounding Tad Lo. We had a great afternoon exploring the dirt roads and tiny villages. That Lauren still had faith in my driving after I almost wrecked in the first three minutes is a testament to her patience and love.
Tad Lo is truly a one-street affair, but is blessed with being situated right next to a beautiful series of cascading waterfalls. Owing to the fact that we were spending three nights there, one of which was Valentine's Day, we "splurged" on a room for $7/night. For that, we got a private double with bathroom and a balcony with a gorgeous view of the bottom waterfall.
Though my Masai attire (from Tanzania) is incongruous in this Asian setting, you can see our Tad Lo guesthouse in the background. It's the bigger white building right behind my head, with our room being the farthest one on the left on the second floor.
With bottles of the ubiquitous and tasty Beerlao in hand, we spent each evening on our balcony, watching the sun set over the falls. You can see the white rushes of the cascade behind the bridge underneath which the sun's reflection gleams.
You can probably make out the mohawk that I was sporting for quite a while through Laos. It wasn't super aggressive, but still caught some odd looks. Also, I quit shaving in mid-January (after Lauren's birthday) and am still rocking what has now become a beard with a length normally associated with psychopathic loner woodsmen.
On Valentine's Day, we went for an elephant trek in the jungle surrounding Tad Lo. Nothing says romance more than riding an animal with droppings bigger than one's head. On the journey aboard Ursula (our name for her), we crossed the river several times and also drew the astonished glares of some villagers.
As several pictures on this blog can attest, Lauren has an affinity for all creatures, gargantuan and small. Ursula was much more soft and gentle than her rough skin would indicate.
In the heat of the day, it was beyond refreshing to take a dip in the river and let the water of the falls beat down upon us.
Even though we were hesitant to rent our own motorbike, there was no better place to experience the thrill of piloting a moto than in the rural areas surrounding Tad Lo. We had a great afternoon exploring the dirt roads and tiny villages. That Lauren still had faith in my driving after I almost wrecked in the first three minutes is a testament to her patience and love.After three peaceful days in Tad Lo, we headed back to Pakse, where we spent the night before boarding a night bus to Vientiane, the capitol. A mere 11 hours later, we awoke at the bus station in Vientiane, found a guesthouse, and set out to explore the city. It is a great town, but it is frankly startling that such a sleepy city is the capitol of an entire country.
Lauren in front of Vientiane's version of L'Arc de Triomphe.
Laos is overwhelmingly Buddhist, with beautiful temples and stupas in abundance. The simple and old nature of this particular stupa in Vientiane drew my admiration.
Lauren in front of Vientiane's version of L'Arc de Triomphe.
Laos is overwhelmingly Buddhist, with beautiful temples and stupas in abundance. The simple and old nature of this particular stupa in Vientiane drew my admiration.Two days in Vientiane were enough to satisfy our curiosity about the city. The clock was ticking on our visa and we had only made it to the middle of the country. Plus, we knew that the surreal world of Vang Vieng would be a killer time. It is very difficult to describe the madness of Vang Vieng. It is one of those aggressive backpacker haunts to which I alluded earlier, a place where the Western world has encroached too far into the local environment. The most egregious and annoying example of this is the fact that many of the bars and restaurants play an endless loop of "Friends" episodes. Bizarre for sure. Clubs play music into the night and people are constantly making drunken asses of themselves and giving Westerners a bad name.
The frustrating paradox of Vang Vieng is that such soullessness is located smack dab in the middle of stunning surroundings. Vang Vieng is (in)famous for "tubing," which is an interesting euphemism for getting wasted on rice whiskey while floating down the Nam Song River. Bars line the shores, where proprietors ply customers with free shots and cheap liquor. Most of the bars have long and high ziplines out over the river, some to a height of 50 feet or more (I'm a bad judge of height). The mix of cheap booze and acrobatics makes Vang Vieng probably the most dangerous place in the world that is not a war zone. From southern Cambodia all the way up through Laos until we reached Vang Vieng, we met countless travelers with all manner of injuries. Upon inquiry as to the cause of such injuries, the answer was invariable: "Vang Vieng."
The frustrating paradox of Vang Vieng is that such soullessness is located smack dab in the middle of stunning surroundings. Vang Vieng is (in)famous for "tubing," which is an interesting euphemism for getting wasted on rice whiskey while floating down the Nam Song River. Bars line the shores, where proprietors ply customers with free shots and cheap liquor. Most of the bars have long and high ziplines out over the river, some to a height of 50 feet or more (I'm a bad judge of height). The mix of cheap booze and acrobatics makes Vang Vieng probably the most dangerous place in the world that is not a war zone. From southern Cambodia all the way up through Laos until we reached Vang Vieng, we met countless travelers with all manner of injuries. Upon inquiry as to the cause of such injuries, the answer was invariable: "Vang Vieng."
All of this is not to say that we did not enjoy ourselves in Vang Vieng. On the contrary, it was just as fun as we thought it would be. We did some "tubing," but also explored the surrounding countryside and hung out with some cool characters, including a couple that we would revisit in Hanoi. We were fortunate to score a bungalow overlooking a tributary of the Nam Song in a guesthouse run by a really friendly Norwegian. We were probably the perfect age for Vang Vieng: young enough to party when we wanted to, but old enough to have enough responsible perspective on the situation. I suppose that holds true for the whole trip, but nowhere was this dichotomy more apparent than in Vang Vieng.
Hanging out with a little puppy at the first bar on the river.
Buckets of Thai whiskey and Coca-Cola are the preferred method of alcohol consumption on the "tubing" run.
Lauren floating down the Nam Song, with the beautiful karsts (limestone cliffs) in the background.
The epicenter of the mayhem, as viewed from downstream, several drinks later. The high platforms are the dangerous ziplines that people much more inebriated than they should be hurtle themselves down. It honestly has to be seen to be believed. We witnessed some pretty gruesome falls and burst eardrums are among the most common injuries.
Though we certainly had a few cocktails and a lot of merriment, our judgment was not impaired to the point where we dared tempt fate and ride a zipline. With Lauren's fragile skull and my surgically reconstructed shoulder, that would have ended in disaster. However, one of the bars has a really big slide next to it, which shoots you into the river in the manner of a nordic ski jump. Above is the first video of our blog, documenting one of my runs on the slide. It was entirely too dangerous for Lauren's skull and right on the border of being a good idea for me, but it was fun as hell.
One day, we just decided to go for a walk with no particular destination in mind. Of course, this turned out to be one of the hottest days of the entire trip, but that did not detract in the slightest from the enjoyment of the ramble. In the end, we walked for over three hours, just reveling in the beauty of the karsts surrounding Vang Vieng.
Surprise, surprise, Lauren's holding a cat. Our guesthouse had a resident kitty named Jennifer, coincidentally the name of Lauren's dear friend and a fellow feline fanatic. This picture is a tribute to the human (and lovely) Jennifer.
We found a cool spot right outside of the center of town that had thatched huts strung with hammocks. These were perfect for lounging with a good book or hanging out with friends. Here, Lauren makes a bovine acquaintance.
I love hammocks. There, I said it.
This many Beerlao...
...results in pictures like this.
Hanging out with a little puppy at the first bar on the river.
Buckets of Thai whiskey and Coca-Cola are the preferred method of alcohol consumption on the "tubing" run.
Lauren floating down the Nam Song, with the beautiful karsts (limestone cliffs) in the background.
The epicenter of the mayhem, as viewed from downstream, several drinks later. The high platforms are the dangerous ziplines that people much more inebriated than they should be hurtle themselves down. It honestly has to be seen to be believed. We witnessed some pretty gruesome falls and burst eardrums are among the most common injuries.Though we certainly had a few cocktails and a lot of merriment, our judgment was not impaired to the point where we dared tempt fate and ride a zipline. With Lauren's fragile skull and my surgically reconstructed shoulder, that would have ended in disaster. However, one of the bars has a really big slide next to it, which shoots you into the river in the manner of a nordic ski jump. Above is the first video of our blog, documenting one of my runs on the slide. It was entirely too dangerous for Lauren's skull and right on the border of being a good idea for me, but it was fun as hell.
One day, we just decided to go for a walk with no particular destination in mind. Of course, this turned out to be one of the hottest days of the entire trip, but that did not detract in the slightest from the enjoyment of the ramble. In the end, we walked for over three hours, just reveling in the beauty of the karsts surrounding Vang Vieng.
Surprise, surprise, Lauren's holding a cat. Our guesthouse had a resident kitty named Jennifer, coincidentally the name of Lauren's dear friend and a fellow feline fanatic. This picture is a tribute to the human (and lovely) Jennifer.
We found a cool spot right outside of the center of town that had thatched huts strung with hammocks. These were perfect for lounging with a good book or hanging out with friends. Here, Lauren makes a bovine acquaintance.
I love hammocks. There, I said it.
This many Beerlao...
...results in pictures like this.Sure, we probably lost a few brain cells in Vang Vieng, but we like to think we have enough to spare. Though initially skeptical and prone to the type of jaded viewpoint of the town that we heard from many travellers, we now know that the town is what you make of it. Perspective and responsible enjoyment were the keys to leaving Vang Vieng with fond memories.
From Vang Vieng, it was off to our last stop in Laos: the UNESCO World Heritage site of Luang Prabang. The bus ride to Luang Prabang was through jawdroppingly beautiful mountains and had one major incident. A couple of hours into the trip, I was awoken from my nap by a massive explosion that littered the passenger compartment with dust and ash. As it happened, the spare tire, which was kept in the baggage hold, exploded and blew out one of the windows of the bus. There was shattered glass everywhere, but fortunately nobody was hurt. It's always something....
Luang Prabang rightly deserves its reputation as a serene and beautiful spot. It was a bit too overrun with tourists for our liking, but it pleased us nonetheless. As with all spots, it's the people that you meet that make the experience special. In the case of Luang Prabang, we stayed at a hostel run by a very sweet and genuine guy named Pong, who immediately put us at ease. It was no surprise to learn that Pong had been a novice monk in his earlier life. We also were fortunate to make the acquaintance of a Canadian physicist named Chris. Chris was incredibly easy to talk to and his view of the world was fascinating. Being liberal arts people, the chance to converse with a scientist offered a scintillating perspective on life. He was also an adventurous traveller, and I will not forget our afternoon spent seeking out a particular dried buffalo meat and chili paste that is unique to Luang Prabang: spicy!!!
One day, Chris, Lauren, a few others, and I went to visit some waterfalls located 30km outside of Luang Prabang. Alongside the waterfalls is a sanctuary where Asiatic black bears can live free from the threat of poachers. The bear being my favorite animal by far, the chance to watch them up-close was a real treat.
This bear impression makes it easy to see why Lauren has nicknamed me "Bear." The bear tattoo and the big beard help complete the illusion.
Fortunately, I didn't hurt myself on this rope swing, even though the water was more shallow than I first estimated.
Overhead view of the night market in Luang Prabang, where Lauren scored a really awesome and unique purse to replace the one that had seen constant use since the third week of our trip and had unfortunately succumbed to the abuse.
I was unaware that there is a Buddha for every day of the week, but according to the statues around the temple of Phu Si, there is. Phu Si is situated on a hill overlooking the whole of Luang Prabang, but since it is so mobbed with tourists, we didn't snap a blog-worthy shot up there.
Like this fat Buddha, we were more than contented with our travels in Laos. It is a place to which I hope to return, though I fear that the Laos tourism industry may be unable to withstand the pressure for large-scale tourist development. It would be a shame if the geographical and cultural treasures of the country were exploited for the sake of a quick buck. Not only would the Lao citizens lose out in this bargain, but the world at large will be a little bit less special for having forsaken such an innocent and magnificent corner of the globe. On a more practical note: get to Laos while the getting is still good, and remember that one responsible traveler can make a bigger difference than it would seem.
From Vang Vieng, it was off to our last stop in Laos: the UNESCO World Heritage site of Luang Prabang. The bus ride to Luang Prabang was through jawdroppingly beautiful mountains and had one major incident. A couple of hours into the trip, I was awoken from my nap by a massive explosion that littered the passenger compartment with dust and ash. As it happened, the spare tire, which was kept in the baggage hold, exploded and blew out one of the windows of the bus. There was shattered glass everywhere, but fortunately nobody was hurt. It's always something....
Luang Prabang rightly deserves its reputation as a serene and beautiful spot. It was a bit too overrun with tourists for our liking, but it pleased us nonetheless. As with all spots, it's the people that you meet that make the experience special. In the case of Luang Prabang, we stayed at a hostel run by a very sweet and genuine guy named Pong, who immediately put us at ease. It was no surprise to learn that Pong had been a novice monk in his earlier life. We also were fortunate to make the acquaintance of a Canadian physicist named Chris. Chris was incredibly easy to talk to and his view of the world was fascinating. Being liberal arts people, the chance to converse with a scientist offered a scintillating perspective on life. He was also an adventurous traveller, and I will not forget our afternoon spent seeking out a particular dried buffalo meat and chili paste that is unique to Luang Prabang: spicy!!!
One day, Chris, Lauren, a few others, and I went to visit some waterfalls located 30km outside of Luang Prabang. Alongside the waterfalls is a sanctuary where Asiatic black bears can live free from the threat of poachers. The bear being my favorite animal by far, the chance to watch them up-close was a real treat.
This bear impression makes it easy to see why Lauren has nicknamed me "Bear." The bear tattoo and the big beard help complete the illusion.
Fortunately, I didn't hurt myself on this rope swing, even though the water was more shallow than I first estimated.
Overhead view of the night market in Luang Prabang, where Lauren scored a really awesome and unique purse to replace the one that had seen constant use since the third week of our trip and had unfortunately succumbed to the abuse.
I was unaware that there is a Buddha for every day of the week, but according to the statues around the temple of Phu Si, there is. Phu Si is situated on a hill overlooking the whole of Luang Prabang, but since it is so mobbed with tourists, we didn't snap a blog-worthy shot up there.
Like this fat Buddha, we were more than contented with our travels in Laos. It is a place to which I hope to return, though I fear that the Laos tourism industry may be unable to withstand the pressure for large-scale tourist development. It would be a shame if the geographical and cultural treasures of the country were exploited for the sake of a quick buck. Not only would the Lao citizens lose out in this bargain, but the world at large will be a little bit less special for having forsaken such an innocent and magnificent corner of the globe. On a more practical note: get to Laos while the getting is still good, and remember that one responsible traveler can make a bigger difference than it would seem.
