By Callum Taylor
When Marta and I were planning the route we would take through Asia, Laos was never part of our plan. First it was crossing through Myanmar to India, then when Myanmar immigration rules changed we re-routed to go through Cambodia and Vietnam. A few months later though and here we were, sailing down the Mekong River with over a hundred other tourists well on their way to cirrhosis.
It was around lunch time when the boat kicked off from Huay Xai. The four of us (including Riley and Clara) had found a spot halfway down the boat, not too far from the onboard kiosk/toilet but not too close to the roaring engine, which looked and sounded ready to cause a nuclear explosion. Unfortunately Marta had the ‘window seat’ and with the sun shining down directly upon her she had essentially melted before we left. RIP Marta.
Racing down the Mekong. Photo: Callum Taylor
With not much to do besides eating, drinking and sleeping, we filled up on baguettes and passed the time with plenty of local ‘BeerLao’. The group of British guys next to us were already onto their third beer in about 30 seconds, so an interesting afternoon was in store for all of us.
In between all of this the views from the boat were quite impressive. Wild hills flanked either side of the river with the odd local fishermen passing by on their simple single-person wooden vessels. Occasionally we made a stop to pick up a local who I’m sure was thrilled to get on a boat full of drunk white people.
Standard river views. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
The trip to Luang Prabang wasn’t a short cruise. It was scheduled to take two days with a stop just over halfway at Pakbeng where everyone would need to stay the night. With the British guys reaching a state where I think each of their senses were shutting down, the sooner that arrived the better.
Pakbeng
Eventually we docked and everybody stumbled off the boat to a mass of guesthouse/hotel operators coming to pick up or entice potential guests. We hadn’t made a booking as the prices online were supposedly 2-3x the walk-in rate. This was confirmed when the place I had been recommended gave us a dirt cheap price when we arrived compared to what I had seen on the internet. We all put our things away into our surprisingly comfortable rooms and headed out for dinner.
Welcome to Pakbeng. Photo: Callum Taylor
Pakbeng was actually a nice little place to stop for the night. In no way was this a genuine Laos village, I’m sure it purely existed to serve the hundred or so tourists which came through daily during peak season. Consequently there were plenty of restaurants and bars around which all looked very inviting along with some shops to stock up on supplies for the boat to Luang Prabang the next day.
The four of us settled on an Indian restaurant which, unless it was a very linguistically skilled local Lao man, was actually owned and operated by Indians. Unexpected, and the food which came out was delicious. Whether curry in a place like this was a good idea for another long day on the water remained to be seen, but for now we had a great night getting to know each other and enjoying something different for dinner.
The view to our hotel. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
The next day the boat departed quite early and 8am seemed a little early to start drinking so we took a miss on the beers for the day. We had a smaller boat for this leg and we were stuck on some uncomfortable sideways facing seats, so it would’ve paid to get there earlier.
Nevertheless, the ride wasn’t so bad as it was much shorter than expected. We pulled into a jetty a short drive away from Luang Prabang and everyone alighted. Soon enough we were all in a shared taxi racing towards Luang Prabang.
Luang Prabang
Just after lunch time we arrived in the central point of the city. We said goodbye to Riley and Clara and headed off to our hostel. Tonight was the first night we had been forced to settle for dormitory accommodation. Fingers crossed we would find some tolerable and interesting people.
Our first walk through Luang Prabang surprised us. We didn’t really have any expectations as neither of us had heard much about it, but there were plenty of tourists around. It came across as a mix between a rural dusty city, and somewhere which had been slightly corrupted by tourism. Interesting, yet lacking in authenticity.
After spending the afternoon catching up on messages, skyping, and of course instagramming we headed out in search of dinner. The main street had transformed into a buzzing market brimming with souvenirs, clothing, and restaurants. One alleyway full of dining options was hugely popular with locals and tourists, so we sat down and dug into plenty of the meat dishes on offer. Finishing it off with some delicious fruit, we rolled out, nearly incapable of walking.
So much choice! Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
Despite the difficulties coping with our bulging stomachs, we powered on as Marta wanted to buy a fridge magnet. Refusing to be scammed, we crossed all the market stalls to get a non-tourist price and eventually found what we were after. Callum and Marta 1 – South East Asian vendors 167. Slowly levelling the score.
We returned to the hostel ready for bed but knowing that, given we were in a dormitory, we would probably enter to a chorus of snoring. That wasn’t quite the case, instead we had a group of Portuguese girls who seemingly were hating everyone and everything. People were trying to sleep but they wouldn’t stop furiously yelling about something. The joys of dormitories.
Despite the Portuguese problem we eventually got a decent sleep in. A surprisingly nice breakfast was cooked up by the hostel and then we headed back out into town. First on the agenda was to buy some bus tickets to our next destination, Phongsaly, in Northern Laos. Instead of paying more for the agents to get our tickets for us, we walked out to the bus station ourselves. There were probably more chickens walking around than buses there, but we got our tickets without any issue for the next day.
During the walk back Marta started feeling unwell so we headed back to the hostel where she could rest. For the rest of the afternoon she recovered in bed while I enjoyed the free wifi in between walks into town for lunch and beers. One thing I quickly noticed in Laos was every business had the same signage. This coupled with regular sightings of the old soviet hammer and sickle really showed the communist mindset of the country. Laos is one of the few remaining communist nations in the world.
Walking around Luang Prabang. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
The day for Marta was essentially a write off so we went to bed in hope of an overnight recovery. Fortunately there was nobody yelling during the night this time so we again got a decent sleep in. Dormitories weren’t looking so bad now.
Thankfully, Marta woke up feeling much better and ready to make the most of our final day here. The bus was scheduled to depart in the evening so after another tasty breakfast we headed out to see more of the city.
Luang Prabang was a nice place to walk through. It might have been touristy, but despite all the restaurants and hotels, the people were friendly and after the crowds of Thailand this place had a nice vibe to it. We followed the river around the city, crossing over primitive looking wooden bridges and seeing how, outside the centre, the local suburbs’ infrastructure deteriorated quite quickly.
Better than some of the road bridges we had come across. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
A quick baguette stop gave us one chance to enjoy fresh sandwiches again before they were gone as western comforts would once again disappear as we headed north. We grabbed our bags from the hostel and tried to organise a taxi through reception to take us the bus station. After more than twenty minutes waiting though and with the bus scheduled to depart quite soon, we told them in unfriendly terms not to worry and within seconds we found a taxi from the street.
This taxi mishap though was the least of our worries. We arrived at the bus station only to be told the bus was having problems and it would be 90 minutes late. Just what we didn’t want to hear, but there was nothing we could do, so we found some shade and waited it out. 90 minutes later and “oh it will be another two hours sorry”. Now it was getting frustrating. Two hours later “sorry, we will have to take you to another bus station where you will catch a different bus to Phongsaly in another two hours”. Now we were mad, and I strongly suspect Marta was becoming more and more capable of murder by the second.
Not where we planned to hang out for nearly five hours. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
It was now 10pm and we had no choice but to get into the taxi, at our own cost of course, to the next closest station. Off we went, with another local man who fortunately took it upon himself to explain all of this to us. The next bus station at least was a modern building with indoor seating.
As we had another long wait I ventured out and found some skewers for us, praying it wouldn’t give us food poisoning. Instead of poisoning though, we were left guessing by what the content of the skewers were. It certainly wasn’t any normal meat. We narrowed down our guesses to either dog, or squirrel as nearby there were caged squirrels. Eating either of these animals for me personally is no different to eating other non-endangered animals, so the thought didn’t trouble us. The chewiness and strange taste though definitely meant we weren’t in a hurry to give out a 5 star Tripadvisor review to this skewer lady.
Eventually at 12:30am, the bus finally rolled up. To our surprise it was a sleeper bus, so we were excited to have a bed for the journey. Getting onboard though and realising every bed was taken dampened our spirits further, but people fortunately moved for us and Marta and I could share an upper bunk. Not really comfortable at all but better than a cramped seat.
For the next 18 hours or so we bussed through the Laos countryside, desperately trying to keep each other from falling off the narrow bed. Once the sun rose the scenery was very nice, consisting of completely wild forest only broken by the winding road we thundered down and struggled up.
Absolutely having a blast. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
Arriving into the Phongsaly region the road deteriorated significantly before suddenly returning to high quality. For the last section many people had alighted so finally we each had a bed to ourselves. Thankfully we arrived in the evening and what a relief it was to get off the bus.
Phongsaly
An Argentinian/Polish couple who must have hopped on part-way through the ride joined us in a taxi to the centre of town where Marta and I booked into a hotel run by a friendly Australian man named Nathan. Why there was an Australian man way out here basically in the middle of nowhere I have no idea, but hearing an Australian accent is always welcome.
I also have no idea why such a nice hotel existed here. For such a relatively cheap price we had one of the best rooms we had come across in a while. Big comfy double bed, private bathroom, great views, wifi, and all in the middle of nowhere, which is quite an effort for Laos. We soaked up the surprise comforts and headed out for a walk before sunset.
The reason we had come to Phongsaly was to visit a more remote part of the Laos. This was the capital ‘city’ of far-northern Laos, but it had a very different feel to everywhere else. Firstly there was a significant Chinese immigrant population, secondly there were a lot of rural tribes surrounding the city, and thirdly, compared to Luang Prabang at least, it didn’t exist to serve tourists.
The kind of lifestyle we were hoping to see. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
We took a short walk through the ‘old town’ which was a small section of Phongsaly where the majority of the Chinese inhabitants lived. Complete with cobbled streets and alleyways it had a real charm to it that was missing elsewhere. The late evening sun in particular made it very picturesque, and it left us feeling excited to have a better walk around the next day. For now though we had to find some dinner.
Given its location it was understandable there were no Michelin stars here. Finding a restaurant that was actually open for the night proved to be a challenge. Most places seemed to be closed so we picked the closest place to our hotel with a light on and ordered whatever they were offering us. Decent meal in the end even though neither of us really knew what we were eating. Satisfied, we returned to our room to rest up for a full day of exploring.
The next day we woke early and went in search of somewhere to get some breakfast. Just down the road was a small cafe run by a friendly middle-aged woman who cooked up some eggs for us. We also came across the couple who had been on the bus with us and spoke about our plans for Phongsaly.
With a full day free to see what the region had in store for us we set off, unsure of what we would find. Once again we we walked through the old town which now had a bit more life to it. Locals looked at us confusedly with curiosity before breaking into a semi-smile when we waved or smiled back at them. People here seemed very friendly and for once less interested in viewing us as a walking wallet.
The cobbled streets of Phongsaly’s old town. Photo: Callum Taylor
The people were so friendly in fact that after only an hour or so we stumbled upon and were invited into some kind of celebration. Dozens of tables and chairs were set up under a giant gazebo while men and woman were in the process of preparing a huge feast. Nobody spoke a word of English so we sat and watched and tried to figure out what was going on.
Before long the food was ready and people were making their way to the tables. We were hesitant to stay, not sure if we were welcome or not, but some of the locals pointed us to a table and all of a sudden we were being given plates full of various local dishes. We had definitely become a bit of a novelty as we laughed alongside others around us over the situation we had found ourselves in.
Laughter eventually turned to celebration and the Lao people seem to only know one way to celebrate here, with Laolao ‘whiskey’. This is basically moonshine and it is incredibly alcoholic. It might have only been 10:00am but glasses were raised in our direction so we obliged by downing 3 shots in quick succession. Tasted awful, felt awful, but the people loved it and loved us joining in. It was great fun, but after each person we made eye contact with wanted to share a drink, we decided to head off before requiring a new liver.
As we were leaving a few young monks approached us and in their limited English invited us to sit down and chat. It was difficult to communicate but from what we could understand their mentality wasn’t so different to ours. They might have been respected buddhist followers out here in the middle of nowhere, but they were still teenage guys.
We said goodbye after a while and continued exploring. After walking around much of the upper village we decided to continue along a dirt track and see where it would take us. Before coming to Phongsaly we were interested in doing one if the multi day treks in the region which went out to remote communities. Unfortunately though the prices were a little out of our budget so we decided against it. Hopefully some independent exploring would lead us somewhere interesting.
Along the way two young girls took it upon themselves to walk with us. They didn’t speak at all, just wanted to accompany us along the way. It was a little over an hour until we came across a village with about around a million aggressive-looking barking dogs all ready to pounce and maul the two of us. Normally the dogs we come across, barking or not, never feel overly unsafe, but here it didn’t feel right. Not even the local villagers restrained them from bounding over to us and chasing us through the town. We quickly turned back and gave up on walking further.
Our two ‘guides’. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
Disappointed, we trudged back towards Phongsaly. The hike at least was great as it followed the mountainside, giving great views over the valley below. We made it back into town and decided that we wouldn’t be visiting any more villages by foot. We needed a vehicle.
There was one tourist agency in town and just our luck that they also rented out motorbikes. We walked down to try and negotiate a bike for the next day but unfortunately they were less than helpful and told us to come back tomorrow. Without many options we returned back to the hotel, slightly dejected by the frustrations of the afternoon.
Dinner time came around and again we just picked somewhere down the road with the door open and a light on. No menu here, just a fridge of meat and vegetables where basically we just pointed at things and they made a meal with them. While we waited for the meals the sounds of screeching chickens who were probably being slaughtered really added to the ambience. The food was great though, Laos cuisine continued to surprise.
Feasting on the local cuisine. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
While walking back to the hotel we found the Argentinean/Polish couple again and shared stories about our day. It turned out they had rented a motorbike and had had a bit of a nightmare with it breaking down constantly. Knowing this, we went back to our room and decided against getting a bike for the next day.
With another day free of plans now we decided to try and work out the logistics of our next few days. China was on the horizon and we needed to enter soon. A look at Google Maps indicated a border crossing in the far north and the little information we found online didn’t 100 per cent indicate whether it was passable for us or not. Asking around didn’t help either, some said no some said yes. May as well give it a shot.
After filling up for breakfast at the same cafe, we walked down towards the bus station to work out how to reach this border crossing. Along the way I was attacked by a chicken and we passed a nightclub named ‘Water night nightclub’, which I think is a miscommunication of ‘What a night’. Laos is an interesting place.
Eventually we arrived at the station. Without being able to speak a common language though we got absolutely nowhere and had to walk back without any helpful information. Fortunately for us we found our hotel owner Nathan’s home and stopped to chat. It turned out he was fluent in Thai, which partly explained what he was doing here. He offered to help us with the buses and we agreed to meet later in the evening.
Phongsaly Bus Station. Looks simple to understand, finding more information on the other hand was impossible. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
We continued back up the hill, actively trying to escape the sun’s rays by sticking to whatever shade we could find. The local bazaar was open so we went for a quick look around inside. For how small Phongsaly was this was quite a nice little market. Plenty of fresh produce, meat, and clothing was on offer. We politely declined it all.
With much of the town covered now we headed back to rest and pack. Hopefully we would be departing for the border the next day. While we waited to see what the plan was, we went up to the hotel rooftop and got a wonderful view of the sunset over the surrounding hills and forests.
Goodnight Phongsaly. Photo: Marta Pascual Juanola
Eventually Nathan knocked on the door with information on how to reach the border, but with no guarantee we could pass it. An early morning bus would get us most of the way so we decided to get an early night in.
From now on there was no guidebook to assist us or recent reports of anything north of Phongsaly. Whether there would be anything interesting we could only hope. Either way, we would be seeing a part of Laos that seemingly wasn’t seen by many foreigners. Fingers crossed we wouldn’t be turned back
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