We arrived in the capital city Vientiane with our hearts still in Cambodia. How could we take our minds off missing our kids and fellow volunteers? If you're as smart as we are the answer is to go to a town that's a real dive and hate it. See? Clever. Yes, there were a couple of beautiful temples and a nice tribute to the Arc de Triomphe and yes, it was more developed than Cambodia. But it was all just a big mess - Cambodia was cleaner in respects due to its sparseness. We were back to the land of cars and honking horns; no more charm of tuk tuks and bicycles. It wasn't until we left Cambodia that we realised tuk tuk drivers took more pride in their vehicles there than anywhere else in south east Asia. We spat on the floor in disgust at the horrible rides the Lao drivers wanted us to sit in! (Not really, obviously.) Didn't they know we'd sat in a Transformers and a Batman tuk tuk in Siem Reap?
Grudgingly, we admitted that it was nice to not be hassled anywhere; to not be asked constantly if we needed a taxi / more embroidered trousers from the market / a 'lady boom boom' massage / marijuana. It was also good to escape the red dust. I can see why people who visit Laos before Cambodia dislike the latter in comparison. The former is just so chilled-out and easy-going, they say. As in Brazil, I'd say that "chilled out" is great when it comes to the local people but when you need some kind of professional service, it's just another term for a certain degree of laziness.
On our first and only night in Vientiane we tried to go for dinner at a restaurant called Makphet. It's a bit like Jamie Oliver's 'Fifteen' in its crusade to help under-privileged youngsters become chefs - a very worthy cause and great food to boot. Not that we were to find out if that were the case. That evening we were turned away by a man giving us the most ridiculous excuses you could ever come across. "What do you mean a raccoon just ran in and stole somebody's muffin and told you not to let the English couple in?!" (Naturally that wasn't really one of the reasons he gave to us but you get the gist.) Later, uncomfortably seated in a back alley with a plate of fried rice served by an 'Oddjob' lookalike (the James Bond baddie; luckily without killer hat), we gleaned through hushed whispers that Imran's afro was scaring the locals: one look at him and they wanted to lock their doors and draw their curtains. We were very proud that his 'fro was coming along so well!
The general standard of food in Vientiane was poor. I was well aware that my usual favourite green papaya salad wouldn't be great in Laos due to the use of shrimp paste instead of fish sauce - which gave it an overly pungent and 'muddy' flavour - but it was worse than expected. We wanted to eat in Makphet, damn it! And so we went back there for lunch the next day holding no grudges (just a baseball bat.) The lovely man was not around much to our grave disappointment and we did indeed enjoy our best meal in the whole of Asia yet. Finally, something to cheer about in Vientiane!
Next, we headed to the ancient city of Luang Prabang. This place was every bit as scenic as people told us it would be. We arrived during a rainstorm and sat outside our hotel room gazing out at the mountains and enjoying the warm and humid drizzle. For the next few days we rode bikes everywhere and soaked up the relaxed vibe. It was indeed no exaggeration that there are beautiful temples and serene monks absolutely everywhere here. It's also home to lovely natural beauty with emerald green forests bordering the town and the Mekong River floating peacefully alongside it. The night market has a great deal of character and is the most peaceful Asian market you could ever hope to wander through.
One morning at dawn, we went to see the Alms-giving procession. Hundreds of monks walk down the streets holding little baskets which are slowly filled with food offered by the local people. It was another one of those things on my 'must see' list; it was also another one of those things that's been ruined by tourists. No longer a peaceful, gentle and spiritual ceremony through silent streets just receiving the first of the morning's sun, it's now a circus show with all the noise that goes with it. The monks supposedly used to walk slowly and smile at everyone; now they look annoyed (well, as much as a monk can) and get back to their temples as quickly as possible. For once it's not the Western tourists who deserve a smack - we all stood on the other side of the road and took only a couple of pictures before quietly standing to watch with respect. It was the Chinese and Korean tourists who were shouting like they were in a nightclub, smoking cigarettes all over the food and actually sitting in the monks' path to try and get the perfect photo. We saw one guy who was running backwards and squatting with his camera as a monk approached and nearly tripped him up. It was downright disrespectful and shameful. Everyday is the same, apparently. How sad. We heard there are calls by the locals to ban Chinese and Korean tourists but how do you enforce something unfair and prejudiced like that on the basis of a generalisation? It just couldn't happen. Besides, China pumps too much money into Laos (in return for free reign over logging in the forests). And so another beautiful sight bites the dust when the travellers of the world all want to see it.
Just so you know, I'm well aware that Imran and I are tourists. I know that I go on about places being ruined or less attractive because there are too many tourists at the scene even though we're just adding to the numbers. And, well.. I just know, that's all. I still feel the same!
An hour and a half outside of Luang Prabang lies the Kuang Si waterfall. We were almost tempted to not bother seeing it - how much better than other waterfalls we'd already seen could it be? Shame on us: we learned very quickly every sight has its own unique beauty and we should never think like that. Kuang Si turned out to be one of the prettiest and most picturesque waterfalls we'd seen in a long time. Sparkling blue waters surrounded by forest, warm enough to swing like Tarzan from a vine and jump into. Smaller parts of it were like natural infinity pools. There was also a bear rescue centre nearby and the animals were crazy cute (from a safe distance, naturally!)
And so, onto the main event: the Gibbon Experience. This was the biggest pull factor for us in Laos. It was a three day trek through the rainforests of Bokeo National Reserve where we could hopefully spot black gibbons (a rare type of ape.) Now, although it would be cool to see a gibbon, it was highly unlikely because they stay far away from noise and people. The real reason we wanted to do this was because we'd get to zip line through the forest canopy. Zip lining is just one of the most fun things ever invented and we couldn't wait to do it for a sustained period of time. And, unlike a lot of the tourist options in Laos incorrectly promoting themselves as 'ecofriendly,' the Gibbon Experience was specifically created to stop illegal poachers by giving them better-paid jobs as zipline guides. First things first, however, as the Gibbon Experience started in the small town of Huay Xai and we needed to somehow get there from Luang Prabang. The options available were: 1) a two-day slow boat; 2) a twelve hour local bus journey; 3) a seven hour manic speedboat ride down the Mekong with a catalogue of casualties and disasters to its name. Hmmm.. choices, choices. What's worse: discomfort or death? It's a close call but perhaps discomfort takes it so we opted for the speedboat.
Guys, ever ordered a pair of boxers thinking there's not a lot of room for discrepancy in its description and expected to have a pair of boxers delivered to you, only to find you've been sent a man thong? That's what we got. The Lao version of 'speedboat' was in fact a tiny, wooden canoe with a powerful motor attached to one end, with seating space so limited that even a dwarf would complain about the leg room. Seven of us, plus a driver, squashed ourselves into this floating piece of wood with our knees hunched up to our chins and our backs banging against the separation panels for too many hours. The scenery and views were spectacular - a mix of Halong Bay and the Amazon River - but we arrived in Huay Xai with sore knees, bruised backs and aching shoulders. We all had to help crack each other back into an upright position. Bed was very welcome that night, especially as Huay Xai is not exactly a town you would want to visit for any other reason! But hey, we were alive.
The next morning we were introduced to the other six people we'd spend the next few days with; three of them were on the canoe with us. The trek on the first day wasn't overly demanding but those of us with stiff 'speedboat' knees found it pretty tiring (how old do I sound?!) The zip lining, however, was incredible. We flung ourselves off flimsy platforms and zipped through thousands of trees. The views were amazing. Nothing but green as far as the eye can see; clear skies above and rocks and rivers below; the sounds of jungle birds and cricket song for company. And where were we sleeping that night? In a treehouse, of course! I expected it to be a treehouse that was easily accessible by the ground treks but it wasn't at all: it was literally in a solitary tree miles above the ground and only accessible by the zip line. If we looked outside we could see nothing but a big drop all around us - thank goodness none of us were afraid of heights! It was seriously cool but at the same time authentically 'jungle', meaning we shared the space with ants, spiders, cockroaches, moths, mozzies and a massive swarm of wasps. There was nowhere to run so we just had to hope for the best when sleeping. Most of the bugs congregated in the bathroom (they must've organised a party on Facebook) but the wasps found the loo most appealing. Not sure why, as the toilet - actually a hole in the floor with the contents falling out onto the jungle below - was fine for the guys who used the wasps as target practice. In comparison, the dilemma for us girls was to either bare our bums over thirty wasps and pray we wouldn't get stung or zip line down into the forest and squat in a bush where snakes reside. I'm usually ok with wasps but this was a bit unnerving; other girls opted to give their pelvic floor muscles the mother of all workouts and simply not go instead! Bladder infection, anyone?
Imran and I were nice enough to take the 'penthouse' that nobody else wanted: the tiny upstairs room with more bugs for company. During the night, though, there was an almighty thunderstorm and we got absolutely drenched. We had to move our wet bedding downstairs in the middle of the dark, sodden night and try to find room to sleep; perhaps next time we'll think twice about being nice!
The following day's trek was a lot of fun: difficult enough to give us some hardcore exercise but not so challenging that all the fun was taken out of it. The ground was a bit slippery due to the previous night's rain, which also meant there were a lot of leeches about, but they seemed to favour sucking the blood out of our Belgian companions and left us alone. A couple of sneaky ones tried to slither through our shoes but we caught them! A snake sighting stopped us all dead in our tracks but nobody was peeing at the time so all behinds remained safe. The zip lining was also awesome as we went on the longest lines in the forest before arriving at Nam Tok Tat waterfall: a total anticlimax if ever we've seen one! It was pretty rubbish - more of a puddle than a waterfall - but none of us cared as the fun lay in getting there rather than the destination. We've found that to be the case a lot on our travels: only Patagonia delivers beyond all expectation when you arrive at the journey's end.
Our second treehouse was better than the first as there were only fifteen wasps hovering over the loo instead of thirty (result!) and less creepy crawlies overall. In addition, there was only one level meaning nobody had to sleep anywhere they didn't want to. Once we arrived in the treehouse, the guides left us alone to do whichever extra lines we wanted and we had an amazing afternoon zipping around like monkeys. But here's a question: why on earth did none of us think to yell like Tarzan even once?! Lost opportunity. The Belgian couple didn't speak a lot of English and so, to make them feel at home, we were busy yelling "Alleeeez!" every time someone jumped off the platform instead.
After a trek back to the starting point the next day, we sat in the back of a truck and were driven to Huay Xai. There we were, casually chatting and enjoying the scenery when we spotted a group of kids further down the road. We started waving and shouting "Hello!" when suddenly a mass of water came flying towards us. SPLASH! We were soaked! The little buggers had thrown buckets of water over us and were laughing hysterically as we drove away, all of us surprised and confused. Five minutes later we passed another group of kids and the same thing happened. That's when we realised that the Thai festival of Songkran was taking place soon. It's a water festival and entire towns just have a massive water fight for days. Right; this was war! The next kids we passed got a taste of their own medicine and believe me, some of them could dish it out but really not take it. Who knew how much pleasure there was in pelting children with water, especially when they hate it? Of course, our limited supply of water bottles ran out pretty quickly and the next kids we encountered were hardcore veterans - they had ammunition in the form of a hosepipe. On the bright side, they gave us a free shower when we hadn't had one for three days!
It was a fun and lovely way to finish our short time in Laos. Again, it's the most basic of pleasures that bring the greatest joy: it's surely an innate human pleasure to play with water. Other travellers we've met say the Gibbon Experience is the best thing they've done on their entire travels; I wouldn't necessarily go that far but then perhaps those other travellers haven't visited Patagonia and the Amazon yet. Still, it was pretty fantastic and we met some great people.
It's hard to sum up Laos for you: it was both pretty and dirty, friendly and miserable, relaxed and annoyingly too relaxed. We were only there for a week and this was perhaps our mistake; the slogan of Laos is "Please Don't Rush," after all. It was certainly the best time to visit this country; the tourist trade is picking up enough to see a lot of improvements for travellers, but give it just a handful of years and it'll probably have lost some of its authentic and traditional charm as it moves into the modern age. Saying that, we didn't really want to be there for longer than a week. It was.. fine. And that's good enough for us.
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