The idea of seeing Laos arose when Seth told me he had been having a shit time there (okay, joke! Remember? The kind that makes you laugh?) Anyway, so Seth loved it there and imagining his animated silly face while we exchanged a few emails about the wonderful Laos, I knew there and then of how to spend my holiday in mid September.
Flights to Vientiane aren't frequent and don't come cheap either, if you have a fix travel date. Fortunate for me, I could afford to be flexible this time. I refused to grill Seth about the where's where and what's what of Laos, partly also because he knew sweet fuck all about it. "I just love to spend my weekends in Vientiane. Playing spikeball and working out", he said. As Seth was "on his way out" of his company, he has to work his hours, which meant part of the trip, I was gonna be a Lone Ranger. The only thing he ever so generously let me in about Laos were "Sabaidee" and "Khapchai" with both palms closed together positioned in front of his chest.
Over the years, I have become more and more relaxed when it comes to traveling. I mean, what do you want to get out of from your trip? See places as suggested by Lonely Planet? Have fine meals in restaurant recommended by Tripadvisor? Meet people who are party animals like you? Or see the land at it's most naked form, see what it has to offer the minute you get off the plane and meet beautiful people along the way, whether locals or foreigners. Trust me, they have interesting stories to tell, and would equally be fascinating, being spontaneous (Backpacker is an exception. You need to differentiate between the true adventurists and the drunks..)
I have to be frank here before I let you into my adventure in Laos. My impression of Laos, hasn't been completely flattering. When I was in middle school, dad took us to Chiang Mai for holiday. I remembered part of the tourist attraction was to visit the border a bit further from Chiang Rai. I couldn't recall the very details of it all, but the image of those hungry, skinny kids pestering the tourists for money still live vividly in my mind. Underdeveloped. Poor. Uneducated. My protective parents would have never agreed to this solo trip in a million years, but then again, I insisted it is my life and I am the one who has to live with it. The glory, the regrets, the whole shebang. My dad spent thousands upon thousands of his savings to bring us somewhere every year since I was three. Apart from the idea of having family time, I believe ultimately, he wanted his children to be open to the world. And that, is exactly what I am doing now.
"Welcome to Laos!", text from Seth reminded me I have finally made it here, all two hours and thirty minutes of wonder. Wondering what on earth all these older Malaysian men doing in Vientiane?? The flight was full. Business? Pleasure? The sinful kind? They sure weren't in Laos for the nature! I snorted at the thought of them in their jeans and belly popping out, on bikes cycling through the lust green. I headed out of the airport and went to the money changer. I was kip-less. Being handed almost four hundred thousands worth of notes, I stood at the arrival hall, baffled. Not like I haven't dealt with the idea of being a millionaire (been there done that in Indonesia), but kip notes are confusing! They have the numerical print on one side, and another side has the same but in Lao... Check out the pics and you get what I mean.
I tried to suppress the annoyance and helpless feelings of being a toddler, which I always feel when I land in a new country. So, at nine in the morning, you have this 5 feet 3 young little thing in a phase of trance, standing in the hall, not knowing what to do or where to go. "Taxi?", I snapped out of my trance, and looked at the person with the warm Thai-like accent. "Can you tell me where I get a bus to Vang Vieng?" The lady looked at me, quiet, and then shook her head, "No, no bus here. Go central. Bus." I asked her for the cost of a taxi to the "central" that she was referring to, "57,000kip" was her answer. Is that expensive? Well you normally pay about RM 80 from airport to town.. Is this "taxi" THE tuk-tuk as mentioned in the Lonely Planet guide?? Do they even have tuk-tuk that service the airport? I hadn't a clue! While I was doing the conversion of what was 57,000kip in real money, the lady at the counter was talking to a few men leaning close to the counter. I picked up words like Vang Vieng and nothing else. As I always say, money buy you experience.
Clumsily handed the woman the money needed, I walked to the taxi with the driver. Ah. So. Taxi was a sedan car, decorated in a cream white tone much like my dad's car in the 80s. It took about less than 15 mins before he pulled over in front of a line of tuk-tuks. "That bus go Vang Vieng.", he said and pointed to a few guys standing by the tuk-tuks. I was, speechless. Did I get con or something? No way in hell I was getting on those tuk-tuks for 4 hours to get to Vang Vieng.
I got off the taxi anyway, and one of the guys approached me with what seemed to be a receipt book on his hand. "Vang Vieng?" I nodded with skepticism and asked him how much. He said "80,000kip." Close to the cost as suggested by Tripadvisor. Oh what the hell, I was still practically sleep-walking and perhaps it wasn't these tuk-tuks but air-conditioned bus that I was reading about. I sealed the deal, only with kips but not a spit and handshake. They showed me to a wooden bench behind the tuk-tuk and told me to wait for about 15minutes.
In between conversation about the beautiful Malaysia with those lovely Laotians, a bigger tuk-tuk stopped right in front of us. "This bring you to Vang Vieng." God, you must be kidding with me! I was discomfited. I was con. As they hustled me, I just picked up my rucksack and hopped on. There were about eight Koreans, and an Asian looking couple (which I found out later they were Laotian) on board of the tuk-tuk. The tuk-tuk drove a bit more and made another stop for one more passenger. Another Asian. We sat quietly, watching the sceneries passed us by, feeling like we have been sold! Or at least that was running through my mind. Ah well, didn't you say you want to experience the local way's of transportation? Well here you go! A second later, my inner voice was muted, as it started to drizzle! 4 hours of this? Gonna be awesome, not!
Not too sure how long it took, but the tuk-tuk slowed down and drove off the highway into a gated compound with seemingly some busses parked. Perhaps I was like my ex used to say, no good in hiding my thoughts and emotions. The Laotian lady saw my lost expression and she was kind enough to enlighten me to the fact that we weren't con, or sold, but the fare we paid included transport to THE bus station and we were going on a proper bus to Vang Vieng afterall. Oh, silly me, acting like a first time traveller... or backpacker, which, I was. Anyway, a huge air-conditioned bus! At long last! I went inside the bus station and grabbed some water and snacks, prep-ed and ready to endure the next 4hours journey.
There were all these oohh and aahh on the Tripadvisor about the scenic view on the journey from Vientiane to Vang Vieng and I was really excited! But bollacks, I ended up sleeping most of the way to Vang Vieng. There goes the excitement, NOT! We arrived in Vang Vieng late afternoon and were dropped off in the middle of town, made up of several rows of shops and hostels. I headed to the hotel that I have booked online and was surprised to be greeted by a white three storey bungalow. It was a lovely little getaway run by a Singaporean who had two strokes in his life and decided to move to slow pace Laos with his Thai wife. When I checked-in, Michael told me it was the perfect weather to go tubing, I nodded and happily obliged while he tucked a dry bag in my hand and hurried me out the door.
The tubing office was not far from my hotel. According to Michael, tubing used to be available in every hotel by the riverside of Vang Vieng but the government has taken a stern measure when more and more accidents of tourists being killed during tubing in Vang Vieng hit the newspaper. I paid for my tube and hopped on the truck with a group of German travellers. When we got dropped off upstream, the Germans hit the first bar they could find and I was happy to wave them goodbye. It felt really tranquil floating on the river and let the current took me for an adventure. When I reached a turn, there was a simple bamboo hut built on a hill where I saw a few figures waving at me, signalling me to stop for a drink. I did and met two lovely people from down under. We met up that night for dinner and had a somewhat flabbergasting discussion about what is Thai food and what is Laotian food. I have tried the Laotian's rendition of papaya salad with sticky rice, but truthfully, Som Tam is still best left with the Thais.
I spent the rest of the journey in Vang Vieng kayaking on the lovely Nam Song, exploring unique water caves and cycling through the beauteous villages. The blue lagoon pitstop was especially worth mentioning. The water was not turquoise blue as expected as it rained the day before. Still a captivating sight, don't get me wrong. But what intrigued me more than anything else was the group of Korean men and two young Laotian ladies. They were fooling around, drinking beer, summersaulting from the tree branch, turning the pool into a blithe playground. Sounded alright. Yes. Problem was, they did not speak the same language. The Laotian ladies definitely did not apply for a job with "Korean speaking" as a mandatory requirement. However, the language barrier did not stop them from enjoying each other's company. I thought it was riveting for me, the pure natural laughters.
People watching was such as big part of my journey. The fact that Vang Vieng is such a small town, you end up seeing the same faces every where you venture. The same group of Koreans that travelled from Vientiane to Vang Vieng with me, joined me for some kayaking fun.
I got off the taxi anyway, and one of the guys approached me with what seemed to be a receipt book on his hand. "Vang Vieng?" I nodded with skepticism and asked him how much. He said "80,000kip." Close to the cost as suggested by Tripadvisor. Oh what the hell, I was still practically sleep-walking and perhaps it wasn't these tuk-tuks but air-conditioned bus that I was reading about. I sealed the deal, only with kips but not a spit and handshake. They showed me to a wooden bench behind the tuk-tuk and told me to wait for about 15minutes.
In between conversation about the beautiful Malaysia with those lovely Laotians, a bigger tuk-tuk stopped right in front of us. "This bring you to Vang Vieng." God, you must be kidding with me! I was discomfited. I was con. As they hustled me, I just picked up my rucksack and hopped on. There were about eight Koreans, and an Asian looking couple (which I found out later they were Laotian) on board of the tuk-tuk. The tuk-tuk drove a bit more and made another stop for one more passenger. Another Asian. We sat quietly, watching the sceneries passed us by, feeling like we have been sold! Or at least that was running through my mind. Ah well, didn't you say you want to experience the local way's of transportation? Well here you go! A second later, my inner voice was muted, as it started to drizzle! 4 hours of this? Gonna be awesome, not!
Not too sure how long it took, but the tuk-tuk slowed down and drove off the highway into a gated compound with seemingly some busses parked. Perhaps I was like my ex used to say, no good in hiding my thoughts and emotions. The Laotian lady saw my lost expression and she was kind enough to enlighten me to the fact that we weren't con, or sold, but the fare we paid included transport to THE bus station and we were going on a proper bus to Vang Vieng afterall. Oh, silly me, acting like a first time traveller... or backpacker, which, I was. Anyway, a huge air-conditioned bus! At long last! I went inside the bus station and grabbed some water and snacks, prep-ed and ready to endure the next 4hours journey.
There were all these oohh and aahh on the Tripadvisor about the scenic view on the journey from Vientiane to Vang Vieng and I was really excited! But bollacks, I ended up sleeping most of the way to Vang Vieng. There goes the excitement, NOT! We arrived in Vang Vieng late afternoon and were dropped off in the middle of town, made up of several rows of shops and hostels. I headed to the hotel that I have booked online and was surprised to be greeted by a white three storey bungalow. It was a lovely little getaway run by a Singaporean who had two strokes in his life and decided to move to slow pace Laos with his Thai wife. When I checked-in, Michael told me it was the perfect weather to go tubing, I nodded and happily obliged while he tucked a dry bag in my hand and hurried me out the door.
The tubing office was not far from my hotel. According to Michael, tubing used to be available in every hotel by the riverside of Vang Vieng but the government has taken a stern measure when more and more accidents of tourists being killed during tubing in Vang Vieng hit the newspaper. I paid for my tube and hopped on the truck with a group of German travellers. When we got dropped off upstream, the Germans hit the first bar they could find and I was happy to wave them goodbye. It felt really tranquil floating on the river and let the current took me for an adventure. When I reached a turn, there was a simple bamboo hut built on a hill where I saw a few figures waving at me, signalling me to stop for a drink. I did and met two lovely people from down under. We met up that night for dinner and had a somewhat flabbergasting discussion about what is Thai food and what is Laotian food. I have tried the Laotian's rendition of papaya salad with sticky rice, but truthfully, Som Tam is still best left with the Thais.
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| I think it was going to rain.. |
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| George was it? The one who looked like terrorist if he hadn't spoken with his aussie accent! |
I spent the rest of the journey in Vang Vieng kayaking on the lovely Nam Song, exploring unique water caves and cycling through the beauteous villages. The blue lagoon pitstop was especially worth mentioning. The water was not turquoise blue as expected as it rained the day before. Still a captivating sight, don't get me wrong. But what intrigued me more than anything else was the group of Korean men and two young Laotian ladies. They were fooling around, drinking beer, summersaulting from the tree branch, turning the pool into a blithe playground. Sounded alright. Yes. Problem was, they did not speak the same language. The Laotian ladies definitely did not apply for a job with "Korean speaking" as a mandatory requirement. However, the language barrier did not stop them from enjoying each other's company. I thought it was riveting for me, the pure natural laughters.
People watching was such as big part of my journey. The fact that Vang Vieng is such a small town, you end up seeing the same faces every where you venture. The same group of Koreans that travelled from Vientiane to Vang Vieng with me, joined me for some kayaking fun.