The trip from Thailand to Laos was our first real overland border crossing, and we weren’t really sure what to expect. The book had warned of long lines, red tape, and possible bribes so we were a little nervous as we approached the border. Instead, the whole process was relatively easy. The Mekong River marks the border between the two countries, and two small towns on either side serve as the immigration check points. We arrived in Chiang Khong (the Thai side) by bus, took a taxi to the Thai immigration office where they stamped us out of the country. Then we walked down to the river and took a long boat across the Mekong to Laos. Once on the Laos side, it was two passport photos and $35 for a visa. The whole process took less than an hour.
We found ourselves in Houai Xai for the night, which is literally a one street town. Fortunately we found a nice hotel with a great view of the river, and a local restaurant which offered good food at cheap prices. The next morning, we prepared for our long journey to Luang Prabang. The best way to get there from Houai Xai is via slowboat down the Mekong. The journey takes two full days, with an overnight stop at the halfway point of Pakbeng. The boats don’t stop, and there is no food on board, so we grabbed, a quick breakfast, some sandwiches for later, and headed down to the docks to get a seat on a boat.
The slowboats are exactly that, slow. For the first few hours you can sit, relax, and soak up the beautiful scenery. When you picture Southeast Asia with the steep mountainous terrain, the rice fields, the farmers and fishermen with their cone shaped straw hats; Laos is what you are picturing. It is amazing, but after a few hours it all starts to look the same, and you realize that you are sitting on a hard wooden bench on an over-crowded boat and you have 4 hours to go before you dock for the night. You try to make the best of it by reading, sipping on some Beer Laos (which is the only thing they sell on the boat) and talking to your neighbors (all tourists even though you’re on the “local” boat).
Day two was even worse than the first. The first day there were two slowboats carrying tourist down the river. On the second morning there was one boat; same number of people. Leon and I snagged seats up front on the floor, which ironically was more comfortable than the wooden bench seats. The second day was also two hours longer than the first, and since there was no excitement to get us through the first few hours like there had been the first day; it was a really long day.
Luang Prabang made up for the crazy boat ride. It was incredibly charming with Buddhist monasteries dispersed among French colonial architecture. The streets were lined with fabulous restaurants serving local, French, and fusion cuisine and shops selling local crafts. The south end of town had a huge night market where local vendors would sell the fabrics and wooden bowls that Laos is famous for. In the morning you could wake up early and watch the hundreds of local monks make their morning alms route. The locals line the streets and sit with steaming hot rice which they offer in handfuls to the monks passing by. The owner of our guesthouse asked me to join her one morning, which I did. The line of monks seemed never-ending and the rice burnt my hands, but the experience was something that I will never forget.
From Luang Prabang it was off to the town of Phosavon to see the mysterious Plain of Jars. Our journey to Phosavon was eventful. First we found seats on the local bus, right across from a nice Irish couple. We were just getting settled in when three men clambered onto the bus with a motorcycle. Where were they going to put a motorcycle on a bus? Apparently, right next to us. They tied the bike in the aisle between our seats, meaning that to get up for any reason, we had to climb over the bike. The drive was mountainous and the roads were curvy. The driver seemed to think that he was Speed Racer, and took over turn with squealing tires. I felt pretty sure for most of the morning that we were either going to fly off the mountain, or that I was going to get sick. All the tire-squealing took its toll, and we ended up with a flat tire and a lunch break. An hour and a half later we were back on the road. The driver, now trying to make up for lost time drove even faster this time, stopping every two hours to get out and inspect the tires to avoid another flat.
Phosavon was an interesting look at the history of Laos. First there was the Plain of Jars, the mysterious stone urns located around the city. No one is completely sure who put them there, or what their purpose was. They have only recently begun to study them. Up until five years ago the area was considered unsafe due to the large number of unexploded ordinance left from the Vietnam War.
The war history of Laos was also interesting. I don’t remember learning a lot about the Vietnam was in school, and I was shocked to discover the impact that the war had and is still having on this developing nation. Laos was actually the most heavily bombed country during the Vietnam War. The Viet Kong used Laos to travel from North to South Vietnam, and America bombed Laos in an effort to stop the flow of traffic. Millions of bombs were dropped on the country and approximately 30% of them remain as unexploded ordinance. Hundreds of children and farmers are still killed and injured every year by bombed that were dropped during a war that ended before I was born.
The Plain of Jars sights have recently been cleared, and as a tourist it is interesting to visit. You have to be careful to stay on the clearly marked paths, because the area off the path hasn’t been cleared. We saw a groundskeeper mowing the lawn around the sight and we both thought, “You couldn’t pay me enough to do that job! Every sweep of the mower could be your last.” It gave us a glimpse of the fear that local farmers face every day plowing their fields. The children actually search out the bombs because the scrap metal is valuable. All through the town you see shells being used as BBQ Grills, fence posts, wind chimes, etc. It is crazy, and sad.
After Phosavon it was time for a lighter mood. We headed south to Vang Vieng, a town that is known for having a backpacker party atmosphere. We rented tubes and floated down the river, enjoying the relaxing vibe. The river bank is lined with bars, and the proprietors throw out ropes to pill you in for a drink or snack. It reminded me a little bit of Beach Weekend in college, and was fun for a day. After a few days of pampering in a nice hotel, and enjoying the beautiful views, it was time to move on. We headed for Vientiane and the Thai border.
