Laos Part 7 Vientiane

So, our first night wondering the streets of Vientiane; a drink at Blue Sky Bar, walking around trying to find a hobo (or more detailed) map to orient ourselves, kindof getting semi lost – but not really as Vientiane is not that big and the streets are easy to navigate, finally stumbling in to the Hare and Hound English style pub for a late(ish) dinner. Interestingly, the Hobo map that I bought later showed the Hare and Hound to be near Maxai temple, but was up near the Lao Plaza hotel. At this stage we realised that the little map we were given wasn’t all that useful and didn’t show very much detail. So we were basically just wondering blind and hoping we could find our way back to our guesthouse by heading south and just finding the Mekong, which we knew would eventually lead us to Impeng road.

The morning started reasonably early (after a reasonably early night once we successfully found our way back, map-less, after a few beer Laos). As soon as we appeared on the veranda of the little cabin, our hostess brought freshly brewed coffee, croissants, and fruit for our breakfast. Consulting our travel-weary copy of Lonely Planet, I set a course to wonder up along Setthathirath Road to see some temples and take in some sights.

 It’s hard after Chaing Mai and Luang Prabang to ‘temple hop’ and not become blasé. But I did OK and found each temple to have unique features to be appreciated. We visited (in order) Wat Impeng, Wat Ong Tue Temple, Wat Haysoke and Mixai temple (which was the only one we found not open). We found ourselves to be the only westerner visitors, and pretty much had each temple to ourselves, save some local monks cleaning or preparing for the next prayer session. With a small bow, hands pressed together, and peaceful smile, I tried to greet them respectfully, and was warmly greeted in return. A few words spoken in English; “Hello. How are you? Fine thank you. Where are you from?”. Much smiling. Some younger monks giggled as they tried out their English.

Really, I could have spent the whole day popping in and looking at all the temples in Vientiane, but I think J would have abandoned me. We headed along the road to find lunch. Up ahead, a group of westerners were consulting a map. Hang on. Isn’t that... the boat people? We drew closer and confirmed that sure enough, there they were. They were so busy with their map and plans that they didn’t see us coming. “Anyone know where to get a good feed around here”, I said loudly as we approached.

Mr R and Mrs S, and Mr J and Mrs L, turned around and laughed. We exchanged stories about what we’d seen, where we’re staying and our trip from VV to VT. Once again, we ribbed each other about not being able to escape them. After a chat and a few tips, they recommended JoMa cafe bakery. J and I bade our ‘see you laters’ and crossed the busy road to enjoy some air-conditioned comfort with an excellent lunch. We didn’t see our ‘boat people’ again.

Satisfactorily full and cooled down, we meandered along Setthathirath Road towards the Presidential palace. Another temple - Wat Si Saket was my destination. Unlike the wats we visited earlier, this temple was built in a Thai style. We spent most of an hour exploring the temple and grounds, including a quick incense offering. From there, we crossed the road to Wat Haw Pha Kaew and enjoyed another hour or so wandering around the beautiful gardens and the museum. There were many relics and artefacts on display that were very interesting. Not to mention how nice it was to be out of the sun. 

Consulting the map, That Dam – the black stupa – wasn’t far away. Crossing over Lane Xang, which is the Vientiane equivalent of the champs elysees, we took a few back streets to the wonderful ancient stupa perched right in the middle of a suburban round-a-bout. Though it wasn’t far between stops, it was seriously hot. Luckily there was a great little cafe across from the large black monument. Au Bon cafe was lovely and made a mean lemon juice. After our yummy cold drinks, we were off again.

We had no intention of walking the whole way, but we found ourselves enjoying the street scene and soon found ourselves at Patu Xay, the Vientiane equivalent of the arch de triumph. It’s a bit of a white elephant, but a must see. Surrounded by beautifully maintained gardens, and hundreds of locals and tourists, it stands in the middle of the double lane, divided road. Looking down, and/or up, the stately thoroughfare, you sort of felt you were in Paris, or somewhere in Europe. I kind-of liked it, but also kind-of thought it was the epitome of kitsch. Really, it is a bit showy and gaudy. Nevertheless, it just has to be done, and we had a cool drink as we walked around the grounds.

Seeing how far we had walked to Patu Xay, and after checking the map, I discovered it was that distance again to Pha That Luang – the great sacred stupa. I looked at J and he gave me a look of warning, ‘if you think for one minute we’re walking all the way up there, you are out of your mind, and I’m not coming”. Without saying a word, I lead J over to a ‘taxi’ stand, and negotiated a cheap fare up the road. The breeze in the back of the truck-jumbo-taxi thing was refreshing, and we were there in a matter of minutes.

To start with, you couldn’t see it. From the main road, Rue 23 Sinhga, we were dropped at what appeared to be a market that was in a state of flux. Half the stalls looked to be packing up, while some others seemed to be just setting up. I think the driver indicated that there was some sort of festival on, but I couldn’t make out what he said. After a few steps, the golden glow was clearly visible. What a magnificent sight! Behind a bland wall sat the brilliant, gold plated stupa in all its glory. It was late in the afternoon and the shadows were growing long. But the sacred shrine glowed in the fading light. It seemed to be lit from within. We paid the entrance fee before venturing in and looking around. Despite all its dazzling gold, it really is a bit boxy and characterless. But it held the solemn air of a sacred place, like a grand European cathedral. Many locals were praying and making offerings. We walked around the lawned permitter before heading off. Right beside was a large temple, Wat That Luang, which I found stunning. It was pretty much deserted and closed. In the late afternoon shadows, we quickly walked around the paved grounds before making our way back to the road and catching a ride back to our hotel/guesthouse.

As usual, I was starving, and ready for a beer. J was ready for a lie down. Poor J. I told him he could rest later... A quick rinse, change of clothes and we were back out to the dusty streets to track down a cold one.

Instead of meandering directionless, we headed to the main road running parallel to the river, Fa Ngum. There are lots of bars and cafes and we checked out a few before deciding on a beer in the shady outdoor area of the Tex Mex place. J and I are obsessed with finding Mexican food wherever we travel. But tonight was not the night. I was keen to explore and have a really nice meal in one of the more highly regarded restaurants. Walking around the block we reviewed a few menus and checked out a few places, many completely empty, but we chose Aria. It looked cute, with some quaint outdoor tables, and had a few tables of patrons – always a good sign. The prices seemed pretty expensive by Lao standards but as it turned out they included a glass of prosecco (an Italian white wine) and a plate of mixed breads with flavoured butter. The food was heavenly. We spoilt ourselves with an indulgent three course meal and a nice (expensive) bottle of wine. Sitting out in the cool of the evening, watching the passersby, enjoying a fine meal, well, it doesn’t get much better than that.

Following our amazing meal (which was by far the most expensive in Laos, but still less than half of what you’d pay for an equivalent meal in Melbourne), we headed back down to the main road along the Mekong. In front of Wat Chan, a night food stall was set up filled with mostly locals and a few hardened backpackers. The meals are cooked over little gas burners with little or no refrigeration for the meat and veggies going into the dishes. Rows of bright red, plastic tables and chairs were set up, with red chequered tablecloths. A slight breeze came up from the river. Across the road, the night market was in full swing, selling mostly touristy wears. Poor J was dragged through for a quick look before we enjoyed a beer at one of the red tables. Sweet and savoury smells wafted around us, as locals enjoyed their fragrant stir fires and noodle soups. With a beer in hand, sitting at a table watching the traffic go by and the night time life of Vientiane, I mused with J about how small the town was for a nation’s capital city. Another memorable day in Laos.

Another glorious day greeted us as we ate our simple but filling breakfast on the porch of our bungalow at Auberge Sala Impeng guesthouse. With only one last full day left in Vientiane, I was very keen on going out to Buddha Park. A jumbo/taxi driver approached us the minute we left the gate of the guesthouse. We negotiated a fair price (which I can’t recall now but was very reasonable) and we were off in the back of the truck-come-van vehicle through the streets of Vientiane. Traffic wasn’t too bad. Though busy, our driver navigated through and around the worst snarls. Within ten minutes, we were heading out of town down a long, dusty highway. Along the way, we passed lots of road side stalls and shops. We passed under the Friendship Bridge, which you cannot miss. It’s massive. Not far beyond that, the road deteriorated to a bumpy, dusty series of potholes. J and I laughed as we bumped along, enjoying watching the local scenes of daily Laos life. Thankfully the road improved after a few kilometres and we soon found ourselves at Buddha Park.

Turned out, we were the only ones there. A small group left just as we arrived so we had the place to ourselves. What a quirky place! A large Yama like structure beckoned us to enter inside through his large gaping mouth. Inside was dark but you could make out hundreds of smaller statues of various Hindu Gods and Goddesses. We explored within, climbing the precarious, narrow stairs between floors, and ventured out onto the roof, where there was a nice view of the park and glimpses of the river beyond.

The park has many large Buddha statues, as well as many of the other ‘major’ Hindu Gods. We walked around taking many photos and just marvelling on the scale of the place. Though a bit weird as all the statues are concrete and not exactly historical or sacred, it was a true highlight and a very interesting and enjoyable way to spend a few hours. Watching the scenery go by on the way to and from made the trip even more worthwhile.

Returning to Vientiane city, we made our way to Talat Sao shopping centre. We first explored some of the streets and shops around the outside, selling everything from beds to saucepans to motorbikes and even the kitchen sink! However, the midday sun was starting to become unbearable so we entered the air-conditioned comfort of the mall. I can’t say I was very inspired with the shops. A few clothing stores, jewellers, knick knacks, electronics etc. But I did buy a lovely bracelet (which is now one of my most cherished pieces). It is a simple silver band with many tiny coloured beads inlaid around the circumference. The beads look like mother of pearl, lapis, topaz and coral, but I don’t think they are precious stones or anything. It’s just a unique piece that I have not seen anywhere since. It was the most expensive thing I bought in Laos for about US $100.

Next on the agenda for our last day was the National Museum. Different rooms over two floors held many displays relating the history and culture of Laos. We spent an hour reading through all the interesting information and enjoying being out of the heat of the day. Some labels were too faded to read, but there was a lot to see. It felt a bit like being back in the 70s with the musty floorboards and fans trying to keep the air circulating in the stuffy rooms. Definitely worth the time to understand more about Laos, its people and history.

The rest of the afternoon was spent wondering the streets of Vientiane, visiting many shops, stopping for cool drinks, and snacking. One standout was Via Via, where enjoyed a lovely afternoon tea. We would have returned for dinner that night, but it was Mexican night at the Tex Mex (which turned out not to be that great – but – as has been said before – had to be done). As far as shopping went, I purchased a number of indigo dyed pillow cases and little purses to give as gifts. But not much else. I’d done most of my shopping in Luang Prabang and I’m not a massive shopper on any account. By late afternoon, we’d explored (I’d say) all the main streets and side streets of Vientiane, and our feet were tired. So back to our gorgeous guesthouse to relax before dinner.

Our last night in Laos. It came too fast. We had an uninspiring Mexican-like dinner at the Tex Mex. The best part was having a table upstairs on the outdoor balcony to enjoy the night breeze and watch the street scene. For that reason alone, we hung around and an extra beer before leaving. We walked along the Mekong river, where there was a Chinese Opera and some sort of temple set up. After looking around, we strolled up to the market stalls, where I made a few last minute purchases of an indigo dyed, fabric gecko, and a gorgeous hand stitched bag made from various hand woven materials.

One stand, “Make Bracelets, Not War” attracted my attention. The bracelets are made from aluminium that was formally part of a plane or bomb dropped on Laos at the time of the Vietnam war (often called the secret war). The villagers were taught how to make new meaning from the bombs and to escape poverty by crafting cutlery and bracelets from the melted down munitions. All proceeds go directly to the families, so I bought a half a dozen to give to my friends at home. With little kip left in our pockets, we returned to the night time food stand in front of the temple for a final beer or two.

The final morning was spent packing up ready to fly to Kuala Lumpur, where we had a brief two night stop before returning home. Our flight was in the afternoon so we had time for a last wonder around and an enjoyable lunch at the Full Moon cafe. It was sad to leave Laos. Our mood was a bit down, and it was hard to look forward to our stay in KL. Vientiane was lovely, but after our full two and bit days there, it was enough. I regretted not planning more time in Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng. But now my thoughts turn to my next South-east Asia trip, where a return to Laos is highly possible.

Thank you Laos, for a most memorable experience. Your people, your country, your warmth made me feel totally at home. I hope to return soon and explore more of your wonderful country.

- K

Laos Part 6 (b) - Vang Vieng and bus to Vientiane

Only a few hours left in this stunning place, but there was a weeks’ worth of places to see. So best get going. Unlike yesterday, I wasn’t risking breakfast at the hotel. As soon as we were awake (after suffering another cup of yummy instant coffee and creamer - compliments of the hotel’s in room coffee making facilities - while watching another hot air baloon take off in front of the hotel and taking in the stunning morning view), we headed to Steve’s Aussie Bar. The breakfast menu promised baked beans on freshly baked baguette, as well as vegemite on toast, along with all the standard bacon and eggs fare. And I wasn’t disappointed. It was hands down the best breakfast I had in Laos.

With Steve’s help, and my copy of the Vang Vieng ‘hobo map’, I planned out a walking route to see more before we had to depart. At the end of the road our hotel was on, we turned right and walked a bit further towards the Vang Vieng resort, maybe about a kilometre. There was a toll gate at the entrance to the resort grounds charging either 5,000 or 10,000 kip to enter (can’t recall now). The resort was set along the river with spacious grounds and lots of shady trees. As we passed through, we noticed lots of hammering and painting going on. Once the work was complete, I bet it would be a lovely place to stay. Something I noticed throughout Laos, work seemed to be stress-less. Even as they were working, the men were telling jokes and laughing with each other. Beside what appeared to be the main resort building, there was a group of women sitting under a tree preparing vegetables while having a good old chat. They all appeared relaxed and happy, working away happily. Work seemed more relaxed, unlike our dog-eat-dog workplaces back home.

At the end of the resort, a long, narrow, red, footbridge hung over the river. On the other side, a ridge of small karst hills sat behind a green field. A short path lead us to another lovely blue water hole. Little wooden bridges provided lots of pathways over the meandering stream. Local families were picnicking with lots of kids running around playing tag. Again, another gorgeous spot.

 

Checking the map, some small caves were up further on the other side of the waterhole, along the stream. By my calculations, the ‘Buddhist Shrine” cave was only about 500 metres away. Initially, the path was clear, heading mostly along the river. An A-frame ladder let us climb over a barbed wire fence without trouble. But after that, the path became overgrown. A hundred metres further, we found ourselves in a treed area where the path became a series of mud bogs. Checking the map, I knew the cave had to be close. Urging J to keep going, I negotiated another mud puddle, clinging to an overhanging branch to jump over the deepest point. We pressed on for another 5 or 10 minutes, through more swampy ground. Hmm. If we’re trying to find a cave, surely we should be along the cliff. Actually, where was the mountain? We are near the river. Shouldn’t we be more over that direction? With all the trees, it was hard to tell where we were. When we came to a farmhouse, I was pretty sure we had gone too far. By now, the track was almost non-existent, just some cleared spaces between trees. To go even a few metres, we had to bash our way through undergrowth, and more thick mud patches. Ok, let’s find the mountain and head that way. And we weren’t too far off. Within a minute, I could see the cliff and rocks of the karst, but there was no track. At least there wasn’t so much mud. But all the branches and sharp sticks were too much to bear. Not to mention we were more exposed to the sun. 

So instead of marching on to try to find the cave by following the cliff, we decided to re-trace our steps, back through the quagmire. It didn’t take long to return to the ladder over the fence. From there, we headed toward the base of the cliff to try to find the cave that way. And wouldn’t you know it, it was right there. The ‘cave’ was more like an overhanging rock, with a large fissure that was so narrow you couldn’t get through. On a concrete ‘wall’ at the base of the overhanging cliff, four moss covered Buddha statues sat in various states of decay. Exposed to the elements, a couple of the statues had eroded badly leaving only the legs. The others were intact but deteriorating rapidly. There were no offerings or incense here. Judging from the overgrowth, I’d say no-one had been there for weeks, or months. It was a charming spot that I found quite spiritual. 

 We made our way back to the water hole by exploring along the base of cliffs. There were a few more caves, or crevices, all the way along. So much more enjoyable than the muddy bush bash we’d just done. I joked about having taken the scenic route instead of the easy way with J, who didn’t laugh at my quip remarks. Even so, we both enjoyed our little side trip, but were very happy to be making our way back just walking effortlessly. Back at the water hole, we ripped off our shoes and enjoyed a quick splash in the cool water.

From the water hole, a set of steep stairs ran up the front of a steep hill to Chang cave. At the base, the entrance was gated with a little ticket booth making sure all visitors paid their 20,000 kip before entering. J and I were quite blown away at how relatively expensive it was when you consider the other caves had been 5,000 to 10,000 kip. But it was still only a few dollars. I joked that the extra money was for a lift or escalator so we didn’t have to make the arduous climb. But alas, I was wrong. So up we go, again. If it was any consolation, the stairs were well made, evenly spaced, and there were little platforms between sets to allow you to catch your breath. Once at the top, the 100 or so steps were well worth it. A wonderful view of the town, river, and surrounding hills extended for miles providing a great perspective.

Almost before we staggered up the last steps, three little girls held out bundles containing incense sticks, a flower and candle to make an offering at the Kwan Yin Buddha altar at the entrance to the cave. Though cute, they were very pushy, trying to push the packages into our hands. We had to say a few firm “bo, khawp jai”s (no thank you) before they gave up and let us pass. Inside, it became very evident why we had to pay so much more to enter this cave. Electric lights illuminated every corner and passage. Lots of well formed paths, steps complete with handrails, as well as a few bridges made walking around and exploring easy. The cave itself had a few nice limestone formations. One path lead deep inside around various interesting pillars and formations and then ended at what looked like a cave in. Another path lead around and through to the other side of the karst to another opening. The view from up here afforded an even broader aspect of the surrounding countryside with patchwork rice paddies and distant rolling hills. 

Having explored lots of the small side tracks, J and I made our way out. The girls who had accosted us when we arrived were still sitting there, chatting and playing around, mostly ignoring us on our return. As they weren’t hassling us, I asked for an offering bundle to pay my respects at the little alter. Lighting the incense, I placed the offering with all the others in the vessel at the base of the altar. I made my prayer and internal offering; “May all beings be blessed with such magnificent surroundings”. And may I be blessed with not having to struggle down all those stairs... Again, down the stairs we went, quadriceps burning all the way. Remind me not to go up so many stairs. My poor legs hadn’t recovered from the previous day’s torment and here I was abusing them again.

Back at the gate at the bottom of the stairway, there was another little temple with a large bronze Buddha statue. Far from being ancient, this looked only a few years old, with modern tiled floor and plaster clad walls. Smoking sticks of incense were placed at the offering table. Unlike the jungle shrine, this little temple was visited frequently and recently. Having already made my offering back up at the cave, I just walked by with a quick closing of hands, clearing of thoughts, and bow of my head. 

Retracing our steps, we walked quickly back towards town. By now, it was approaching midday, and that burning Laos sun was really stinging my bare skin. Not to mention we’d finished the last of the water when we came down those stairs. We zigzagged along, finding every overhanging tree or structure casting any shadow to escape the sun. It didn’t feel so far on the way out as it did now on the way back. We were hot, tired, not to mention parched, and hunger was getting into the mix. When we came to ‘The Elephant Crossing’ hotel, we took one look at each other, and without saying a word, we simultaneously headed directly to the restaurant with renewed energy. Actually, we nearly booked this hotel when I was researching staying in Vang Vieng. But I had too many good recommendations on TripAdvisor for the Vansana, and now seeing, it I was happy with our choice. Not that it didn’t look nice, which it did, but the car park and restaurant were between the hotel rooms and the river and I didn’t notice any balconies.

Choosing a table right at the edge, we immediately ordered water, as well as lemon juice, and iced coffee for J. The restaurant was set on a deck directly above the river bank with a lovely view. It felt so good to be sitting somewhere cool with the load off my feet. We ordered sandwiches with a side of fries. Unfortunately, once the drinks finally arrived they were wrong, but quickly corrected. But then lunch took over half an hour. Luckily we had a bit of time before our bus to Vientiane. At least the food was good.

Refreshed, we headed to the hotel for a much needed shower before packing up and getting ready for our pick up. When the mini bus arrived, we found ourselves to be first on. Great, We picked two seats near the back, as the driver and an assistant put our bags in the back. Next, we picked up another couple, who quickly got in. No problems. Then, a group of five backpacker girls. Now we were filling up. The luggage area had no more space, so they started piling the backpacks on the rear seat. At this point, there were two seats left in the bus, apart from the front seats. But, we drove on and picked up another traveller. Then, the bus returned to town and stopped in front of the booking agent’soffice. The driver and assistant pulled all the bags out, and started re-arranging. They were pushing bags under seats, stomping on them with their feet to make them fit. The girls protested. J and I kept an eye on our bags, making sure they were loaded. Bags were put in aisles and in every spare spot, under our feet between seats, anywhere. The assistant then told us that there were three more passengers to collect before we were on our way. What? Three more? Like where are they going to sit? As it was, the back seat had been stacked with bags. Amazingly, they were then re-stacked and strapped to the side, freeing up two very squashy places.

We headed off, now almost an hour after J and I were first picked up. A few kilometres out of town, we picked up a local older lady, with a younger girl and guy. They happily squeezed into the back seat. And now we were on our way. The road wasn’t too bad to start with, just few pot holes and bumps. But as we kept going, it got worse and worse. Ah well, at least it wasn’t windy. We stopped at a roadhouse for a toilet break, and many passengers bought drinks and snacks. I stayed on board while J had a cigarette, chatting with the backpackers and having some water. What I’d failed to notice was that I’d set down my water bottle without the cap being totally secured. So when poor J came back, his seat was completely wet from my carelessness. With a laugh, I told him that I’d cooled down his seat for him. The guy behind us had a good old laugh, seeing what had happened. So I did the right thing and offered to swap seats. But J, being so lovely, said not to worry and sat down in the sodden seat. Apparently, it was nice and cool, for the first five minutes... Thanks J :)

The trip to Vientiane was meant to take three or three and half hours. After our initial delays, and the bad state of the road, it took over four and a half hours for our trip. Over bad, bone jarring road, in an uncomfortable, crowded minivan, we did not find it a pleasant trip. I would go so far as to recommend catching the larger VIP busses – those big tyres were sure to offer better suspension and cushioning over the appalling road. By the time the bus finally stopped in the city, our backsides were numb, legs cramped from not being able to stretch out, and bodies ached from all the bouncing and jostling. 

Looking around, we had no idea where we were. There was a sports field across the road, and nothing much around to help us orient ourselves and try to figure out the way. Once all the bags were unloaded, I tried to show the driver a note I’d printed with the address of where we were staying, which also had a little map. He said it was too far to walk. A few tuk-tuks had seen us all disembark from the mini bus with our luggage and had approached hoping to get a fare. Seeing us try to get directions from the bus driver, a tuk-tuk driver quickly yelled out, “I know, I know”, and lead us to his vehicle. Leaving J to haul the luggage into the back, I asked the driver how much it would be. 50,000 kip. No way. I was expecting it to be 20,000-30,000. So I told him 20, and we settled on 25. It felt bad haggling over what is only a few cents in Australia, but it was the principal, and I usually give a small tip - provided they were a good and safe driver. Turns out, our driver had us there in barely two minutes – it was that close – and he helped us get our luggage to the gate of the guesthouse as well as gave us a little map of the area. So I gave him 30,000 kip, and he gave us his card offering to take us anywhere in Vientiane; “Special rate for you”. 

Auberge Sala Impeng guesthouse was a tiny property with 4 little chalets set in a tropical garden. It was just off the busy main road that ran along the river, but this little oasis made me feel like we were miles away in a jungle or something. Surrounding the guesthouse were local, suburban houses on a quiet little street. Instantly, I was happy I picked it. A lady from reception lead us to our chalet, the superior cottage, which was set apart from the others. A few steep, high stairs lead us into a darkened room, with a comfy big bed, air conditioning, and modern bathroom. Perfect. A quick change of clothes, splash of cool water on my face, and I was ready to explore this new city. With our little map in hand, we set off in search of beer, and to get our bearings, as the sun cast its last golden rays over the Mekong river. - k

Laos Part 6 - Vang Vieng

Excited to get the day started, I hopped out of bed before 7am. We had agreed to meet at the tour office for our half day trip to the water cave at 9 so I hoped to have a quick stroll around town in the morning cool. The room had coffee making facilities (which from my limited experience is uncommon in SE Asia), and I made a very average cup of instant brew with powdered creamer... mmm mmm (blah!). More like dish water, but warm and coffee-like. Opening the curtains, I was again blown away by the magnificent view. Monolithic limestone karst hills or mountains stood a few hundred metres from the balcony. At their base, a few bungalows and village huts sat along the river, directly in front of the hotel. With the mist adding to the scene, it was truly like waking up in a picture postcard.

Breakfast was uninspiring, for me at least. The buffet style fare had lots of Lao style dishes, and bacon and eggs, all with meat or eggs. J chose a bit of everything, but my only option was some cold, toasted baguettes with butter and jam. But the coffee was much better than the instant rubbish I had made in the room, and there were a few different fruit juices. J tried many of the dishes and had his fill. I took the opportunity to explore the hotel pool area and take a few shots.

Wonderful Tours was only a block over and we arrived early. The other members of our group were a bit late, but we were quickly on our way. We piled into the back of a large jumbo (which is basically a small truck with the tray replaced by bench seats and a canopy for shade) and headed north along the same stretch of bumpy, dusty road we came in on from Luang Prabang. The jumbo turned off after 20 minutes or so down a dirt track that lead to the river. A few other groups were already launching kayaks. All around, the karst mountains ringed the landscape. It was another beautiful spot.

As J and I weren’t kayaking, we were asked to walk up a little way and cross a rickety, narrow bridge and meet the guide on the other side of the river. It was held up by some roughly cut logs lashed together to form trusses. Over the top, a long woven bamboo mat (not unlike what you’d find on the floors of many village huts) formed the path, with no rail; just a two foot wide corridor barely a foot off the water. It looked as if my foot would go right through as soon as I stepped on. As we watched, a local farmer lined up his small motorbike and rode straight across. Shrugging my shoulders, I stepped off the muddy bank, and started walking across. Turning back to look at J, I couldn’t help but laugh. He had misjudged his step and had one foot ankle deep in mud. Oh well. Rinse it off in the river. Being the kind, thoughtful sort of girl I am, I had to make a few remarks to J, just to let him know how much I cared (and how hilarious I thought it was), which I know he appreciated judging by how hard we were laughing and his promises of getting me back.

There were three other couples and a single guy on our trip, all doing the full day with the kayaking. While J and I negotiated the river crossing, they tried kayaking the hundred or so meters across the river from where the jumbo parked to the meeting point on the other side. One couple were yelling at each other and laughing, having a lot of trouble navigating the fast flowing stream. They only narrowly avoided crashing into the bridge. I bet the guides were going to have their hands full with them.

Once we all were on shore, we set off to the Elephant cave (Ban Tam Xang), which was a short distance away. From the outside, the cave didn’t look like anything special. But inside, a small alter with Buddha statues and yellow wax candles sat at the far end. Before it, there was a concrete and tile mosaic Buddha footprint that looked like a small pool or pond, probably used during Laos New Year festivities when Buddha statues are ritually bathed. At the side of cave, a large reclining Buddha was being prostrated to by stone worshippers. On the cave wall, there was an interesting carving of a god like being with a fish tale, who appeared to be nursing an infant to its breast. Then, on the rear wall, high up, was the rock formation that gave the cave its name. It looked just like an elephant, but if you didn’t know where to look, you could miss it.

Next, we were lead along a path through farmland and rice fields, with those stunning peaks towering in the distance. Twenty minutes later, we came to a small stream and a couple of small wooden huts. In front was a gorgeous little pool of cloudy, aqua blue water. On first impressions, it didn’t look like anything. A rope hung from a tree that dropped into the water, then lead into some shadows under overhanging rocks. Our guide informed us we were tubing from the pond into an underground cave, a water cave, Tahm Nam. He showed us where to leave our things, and started dishing out tubes and head lamps. Then, with a big splash, the guide threw his tube in the pond before jumping into it, backwards, so his backside landed in the hole. He paddled around, encouraging us to jump in.

Ok. I can do that. Headlamp on, I lined up my tube and backed into it, without the jump. For an instant, the cold water took my breath away. Not so much because it was so cold, but because the contrast between the ambient air temperature with that baking hot Laos sun, and the cool still pool. The rest of the group made their way in; some gingerly easing themselves in, others with a big splash like the guide. Much laughing and squealing ensued as we all adjusted to the water and navigated our tubes around the pond. The guide lead us to the ropes, showing us how to drag ourselves along it to follow him into the hole in the cliff that was the entrance to the water cave. It was very easy. Hand over hand, I followed the rope into the fissure. A sharp bend just inside the entrance then straightened out into a watery, pitch black corridor leading underground. Within a few metres, the little light that peeked in from outside was overwhelmed by the black of the cave, leaving us in complete darkness. Surprisingly, the little headlamps gave out quite a strong beam so you could see you way around without issue.

J and I were towards the front of the group. Our guide let us go ahead a little while he doubled back to check on the rest of the group. From our position, we were able to look down into the dark expanse of the cave to see how completely pitch black it was. So picture this: a shallow mountain stream, running along hundreds of metres of long narrow cave deep underneath a huge limestone karst mountain; at places the roof of the cave was barely a metre above your head; some narrow passages were maybe 2 or 3 metres wide - in complete and utter darkness. Now, I’m not claustrophobic, but it took a lot of mental talking to myself to not have a panic attack. As soon as I thought about the situation I was in (i.e. how there was pretty much millions of tonnes of hard rock above, below and all around me, in water inside this little tiny, narrow cavern, and if anything moved like in an earth tremor or something, I was done, history, toast, gone-ski, no escape), I couldn’t help but want to turn around and return to the relative safety of that first blue pond. In a few narrow passages, I felt like I couldn’t breathe and needed out. But I persisted. And it was an amazing experience.

The tour organisers provided water-proof bags for cameras and other valuables. I desperately wanted to take some photos. But balanced perilously on an unsteady tube (which is basically like a soft, smooth, truck tyre), sitting with bum in hole, legs paddling, arms dragging yourself along this rope in water and darkness, the last thing I wanted to do was take out something that would be completely ruined if I should lose my balance and end up - camera in hand - in the drink. However, I was happy just enjoying floating along, enjoying the scene (at the same time not thinking about it...), seeing the stunning limestone stalactites and other formations hanging off the cave’s walls and ceiling. All the way, our guide sang out a hauntingly beautiful song. I have no idea of what the words meant, but it sounded like some sort of hymn. In the closed in chamber, his melodic tones reverberated around and bounced off the cave’s walls, making for an almost spiritual experience.

At the end of the cave, well, not really the end, but as far as we could go, the cave opened up into a huge underground room, with rock formations and mineral calcifications. The stream continued further as the cave narrowed to an impasse. But we had to turn around and pull our way back to the entrance. The shaft of light, literally at the end of the tunnel, was so bright after the darkness, I couldn’t see for a minute. But my eyes quickly adjusted to the sun and warmth and colours. A quick dive and swim in the pool at the cave’s entrance was refreshing and welcome. Beautiful smells of cooking food quickly made us all hungry.

The wood hut at the edge of the blue pond served as our restaurant. Lunch was simple, but delicious – and plentiful. The others all had grilled skewers of meat and veg, mine just veg, with yummy fried rice and heaps of fruit. At our feet, chickens with their young scrounged for scraps along with a few ducks. There was so much food the poultry ended up with a nice feed. Inside the shady hut, our group had a good laugh and chat, and I was quick to find out I wasn’t the only one to almost melt down in the underground cave.

Lunch done, J and I bade farewell. We headed back to the landing spot we arrived at earlier with another guide. The rest of the group were continuing downstream kayaking (and bar hopping along the way no doubt), while J and I headed back to town to see what we should do next. Taking a few photos along the way, we were soon in the back of the jumbo heading back to town. I asked the guide about other caves in the area, and he produced a map for us to help figure out what was next. Without understanding the scale of this place, I had originally planned hiring a bike and taking the road that lead west to cycle through the wonderful scenery. On paper, it didn’t look too bad. But I quickly grasped the fact it was going to be too hard without organised transport.

Our guide quickly offered his services to take us to Poukham cave and Blue Lagoon. Realising that it was over a 10kms return trip, paying the equivalent of $10 each to be driven out there, and not have to suffer the rocky road under the backing sun, was well worthwhile. Once we arrived back at the tour office, we confirmed the journey, paid our money, and made arrangements to meet back there in an hour. It gave us a chance to freshen up and grab a cold drink at one of the restaurants. It was maybe 1:30pm and the town was almost deserted. Everyone was either still asleep or upstream on the river. TVs played to empty tables, while waitresses lazed around chatting. After walking around town for few blocks, we found an agent that had a minivan to Vientiane departing at 1pm the next day. All other tour agencies only had busses in the morning. J and I wanted to have the morning to explore more before leaving. So we booked, paying (I think) 150,000kip each. We then chose a small place without any TVs for a large iced coffee and lemon juice, before meeting our driver for our trip.

A beaten up, small jumbo was waiting for us with our guide. On the road, we talked with our guide about his family and girlfriend who lived in Vientiane, and how much he preferred Vang Vieng. He hoped that he would continue to live there after he was married. We joked that he was too young to settle down, but the girlfriend didn’t think so. She planned to get married as soon as she finished studying. But for now, he was enjoying working with the tour agency and meeting all us foreigners, spending his days chatting with us and taking us to amazing places.

Within a few minutes we turned off the bitumen onto a dirt track. Boy, was I happy we had chosen not to ride or walk out ourselves. The road was rough and dusty. Not to mention how hot the afternoon was. We passed a couple of young guys riding motorbikes without helmets or shirts, inviting danger. More farms lined the road, with the stunning karsts in every direction providing a dramatic backdrop. We bumped and bounced our way along the dirt road until we finally turned off and parked in a little clearing. A quaint wooden bridge, covered with a corrugated iron roof, lead over a clear stream to a gorgeous pool – the blue lagoon. Twenty or more people were jumping and splashing in the aqua clear water. You could see dozens of fish in the shallows, away from the commotion. Along the stream on the other side of the bridge, a row of picnic shelters gave day-trippers a lovely place to relax.

Walking past the lagoon area, our guide lead us to a little check point, with a sign pointing to the cliff, saying ‘Buddha cave’ – Poukham cave. Soon we were going straight up along rocky stairs carved into the cliff. It was steep. Real steep. In places the steps were half a metre high making for a strenuous, huffy, puffy, climb up. Thankfully it was shaded by some tenacious trees that grew right out of the cliff side. We had to stop to regain our breath a few times (read that as every few metres). Every time I looked up and thought we’d reached the top, the path turned sharply, and more steep stairs lead further up, tormenting me.

Finally, after about 150 – 200 metres of heavy going, we arrived at the entrance of the cave. Our guide handed us each a torch and lead us in, down some slippery rocks to a beautiful reclining Buddha statue about ten metres below the cave entrance. It was set on a wonderful alter with a saffron cloth canopy providing shelter, ringed with offerings and candles. Another stunning spot. But it wasn’t the end. Our guide told us to be very careful, and stay close, as he lead us further down and into the depths of the cave. We passed a couple of guys had been exploring further inside the cave without a guide, or torch, wearing only thongs (flip flops). As they made their way back to the cave’s entrance, we waited for them to pass by watching them slip and slide all over the place. I was lucky. Our guide had warned us to wear good footwear knowing how slippery and uneven the trek was inside the cave.

For about 20 minutes, we carefully negotiated stone walls and huge boulders along the rock floor of the cave as it lead down deep inside the mountain. The light from the entrance only penetrated about 50 metres down. After that, we had to rely on the torches to find our way in the dark amongst the slippery rocks. Another fifty metres further the floor levelled out and we found ourselves in a large chamber. The torch light made it hard to gauge the size of the cavern. Our guide showed us around the cave and shone his torch on some impressive limestone pillars, stalactites, stalagmites, and glittering curtain formations. One of my favourite photos from the trip I took by asking J to stand in a spot that had some rocky shapes, which I couldn’t make out. I clicked off a shot with the flash. Later I saw the magnificent rock pillar he was beside, as well as the other rocky structures in the cave beyond. What I found amazing, or should I say such a contrast to caves similar to this back at home, was that there were no barriers or guide ropes. You could just touch and go anywhere. And, let me just say, there were a few crevasses that were easy to miss in the pitch black, even with a torch. One false step and you’d be tumbling down to certain doom.

Now for the climb back out of the cave. It didn’t take too long to return to the reclining Buddha alter, and then start the torturous descent down those vertical steps. My knees were like jelly at the bottom. Time to cool off. In one minute flat, my hiking shoes were off, tee shirt removed, and I was lowering myself into the fresh, blue water.  Ahh. That felt better. A few rope swings hung dead in the water. Overhanging the pool, a huge branch had a few planks nailed into place to form a diving platform. The temptation was too much. With J looking on in subdued horror, I climbed up the makeshift ladder, over the branch, to the platform. Funny how it always looks further from the top – didn’t look so far from the ground. It was maybe only a few metres. Nothing really. So with a quick laugh and little gasp, I plunged head first in a sort of swan dive. Again, strange how from the moment of jumping off, to the moment of hitting the water, time moved in slow motion. It felt like I was in the air for a minute, but of course it was only a second.

Relaxing in the beautiful, blue water, I literally frolicked, taking leisurely strokes and floating around. No matter how hard I tried to persuade him, J wouldn’t jump of the diving platform. But our guide did. He climbed up higher than where I jumped from, and let fly with a huge jump, letting out a good ‘YAWP’ as he took off, and created a huge splash as he landed. Having cooled off and refreshed sufficiently, we all got out to dry off a little before heading back to town. In the back of the jumbo, we were all quiet after a full and tiring day, content just watching the gorgeous countryside go by. I tried to take some shots while we were in motion, and scored an awesome shot of the only steel girder for miles, right in the middle of a bridge (probably holding it up or something). A lovely rural scene was overshadowed by this thumping big red post. Shame.

It was about 4:30 when arrived back in town. We thanked the tour guide for our awesome day, and gave him a small tip for the private tour. I know I’ve said it a few times throughout my blogs, but really, this was the best, most memorable day of the entire trip (and yes – an absolute highlight)! I was so tired, and J wouldn’t carry me back to the hotel. Even though it was like only a few metres... gee. Another highlight was the beautiful, warm shower that followed (once I staggered to our hotel). In fact it was the best bathroom we had in Laos and I relished the water pressure on my exhausted body. By the time J had his shower, the sun was beginning to go down behind the mountains directly in front of our hotel. Along the riverbank on the other side, a hot air balloon was being prepared for a sunset flight. We watched while the huge yellow dome was filled, gradually standing up, and then rising off the ground, slowly drifting along the river and past our room. With the stunning mountains in the background, the golden sun setting behind a cloud casting magnificent rays of light out in every direction, and the balloon floating past, I shot off a few dozen photos, which turned out to be some of the most picturesque photos I’ve ever taken.

With the light fading, and the sun below the horizon, my energy returned. It was time for a drink and some food. As the Aussie bar was so close, we started there to tell Steve about our day and thank him for the recommendation (not to mention he had the cheapest beer in town). As we had the whole morning in Vang Vieng before our mini bus to Vientiane, he gave us another tip for a walk we could do the next day. So after a quick snack and a couple of beers, we headed off for dinner. Up on the main road, we bumped into our friends from the Nagi boat, who had arrived from LP that afternoon. They didn’t seem to like Vang Vieng as much as we did and were planning to leave the following day. I thought it a shame as they didn’t even have a chance to see the beautiful area. But I did understand why they didn’t like it, as the town was mostly full of drunk or stoned backpackers. The town itself wasn’t much to look at, just a few dusty roads with bars and restaurants. We told them about our wonderful day and the stunning sights we’d seen. They were unconvinced and planned to book the first bus in the morning. Oh well. We knew we’d see them in Vientiane. We left them to their dinner at the Nazim Indian restaurant, and went on to find a place for ours.

Determined to not have pizza, or sit in front of a TV, we chose a nice looking restaurant (I think it was next to the Bakery Restaurant). J ordered a Laos style noodle dish and I had a ‘fusion’ dish of pasta and vegetables, with a spicy Laotian sauce. Both meals were delicious, but the price of the beers was double what we’d paid at the Aussie bar. So we left to explore the rest of the town. We hadn’t even been down to the road near the infamous ‘island’. This road had even more backpacker hostels, bars, and lots of these little roadside stalls, selling pancakes and other snacks with their menus displayed on whiteboards leaning against the front of the cart. Everything was cooked fresh on large, round griddles, making the whole street smell sweet. We chose the Santana bar and sat at a table overlooking the island. From our spot, we could see (and hear) the many bars over the river, all lit up with multi-colour neon lights. The area was pretty quiet given it was still only early evening. We only saw a couple of groups heading over the rickety bridge to begin the night’s festivities.

Without warning, the sky opened up. The sudden downpour had people running for cover. A few bursts of lightening illuminated the river, as the rain came down heavy and hard. J and I shrugged our shoulders, joking how we were trapped so just had to stay there and have another beer. What a pity. The rain lasted for an hour or so. We saw some very keen young people running over to the island trying to keep dry under a plastic sheet. They were laughing, not letting the downpour ruin their night. Finally, the rain stopped, so J and I wondered back to our hotel. The damp streets seemed cleaner, with the day’s dirt and dust washed away. People were coming out from where they’d sheltered into the fresh evening air. But for these two tired bodies, it was time to crash after a spectacular day. -k

Laos Part 5 - Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng

Our driver was booked to pick us up at 9am for the 5 to 6 hour drive south to Vang Vieng. After another comfortable night sleep, we were up at 6:30am to get in a last breakfast in town before we had to leave. We chose the Scandinavian Bakery, as our ‘boat people’ friends had recommended it. And it didn’t disappoint. Beautiful, fresh baked croissants, juice and good coffee. The town was waking up with shops beginning to open their doors as we walked back to the guesthouse for the last time. Like the previous mornings, the day was bright and sunny. In my mind’s eye, I took many mental photos, as I had absent mindedly left my both my cameras back in our room.

We were packed, showered, checked out, paid up, and ready to go by 8:30am. Our driver arrived slightly early so we set of. Actually I was a little embarrassed. The van our driver had was an immaculate, white, brand new, Toyota minivan that comfortably carried 9 or 10 in the back, and of course a driver and two more passengers at the front. For this trip, it was just J and I. We joked about having a row of seats each. It felt truly opulent. For a moment, I considered asking the driver to take us into town to see if we could find any other travellers wanting to go to Vang Vieng to share the huge van with us. But it was totally impractical. So we loaded our bags, took a final photo, said our last good-byes to our friendly guesthouse hosts and Luang Prabang, and we set off.

Along the way, not far from town, we passed the turn off to Tad Sea waterfall before the road became more windy and slowly climbed a large hill. There were some lovely look out points around some of the bends, and I asked our driver to stop at a good spot so I could take some shots. But he knew a really good spot so drove on. Though I could see so many viewpoints, I just waited until we pulled over. And then I was knocked out by the spot. Sala View point overlooked the Mekong, with Luang Prabang barely visible in the far distance. It was basically a small clearing on the roadside, with a sign and look-out spot. All around were rolling hills with the morning mist just lifting and beginning to burn off to reveal the clear blue sky above. Some locals were having a picnic under a shady tree where a wooden bench had been installed. Our driver joined J for a cigarette in the shade as I lapped up the view with my camera.

Further along the twisty, windy, road was another superb view point. This one had a small restaurant, a few stalls, and a dozen or so toilets. Many of the tourist buses stopped here to allow passengers to refresh and maybe pick up some supplies. When we arrived, there were a couple of large buses and half-dozen minivans parked, with many people wondering about. Two men patrolled the toilet area, collecting a 10,000 kip fee to use the facilities. I managed to get a quick look inside one of the tin clad stalls and instantly decided I would hold on. They were rank. Now, I’m not scared of a squat toilet as long as it’s relatively clean. Clean, these toilets were not; disgusting however, they definitely sure were. These road side cans were the only bad toilets I encountered during our whole trip.

The road was full of twists and turns, switch backs and tight corners. In many places, we could see evidence of landslides that had occurred during the wet season. Before we left for Laos, I had read that the road between Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng had been cut. A few of the slips were fifty metres wide or more, leaving large, wide, brownish-red scars on the green hillsides. Many villages dotted the roadside. Some houses were so close to the road that their walls sat against the edge of the bitumen, with blackened smudges along the side from all the exhaust smoke. Some villages comprised of no more than a hand full of simple wooden huts. Their walls were made of woven bamboo that must have been paper thin, letting in all the noise and fumes of the road. Other towns were more substantial, with shops, schools and temples. The larger towns seemed to have more modern style, brick houses, some with large balconies and fenced yards. Dogs roamed everywhere, with chickens, pigs and the occasional cow grazing among the buildings.

After climbing many rises and passing through lots of lush green valleys, the road finally crested and we seemed to be on the other side of the vast range of mountains. There were far more straight passages of road. In the distance, we caught our first glimpses of the ragged, carst, limestone mountains of the Vang Vieng area. Out of nowhere, a road house appeared precariously perched on a hillside in-front of a magnificent view of a jagged mountain. Phukoun Pieng Fa Restaurant was doing a roaring trade. The car park was full of many vans and busses. A paved path lead up to the top of the hill where there were two buildings; one with a restaurant and dining area, and the other more tables and benches. In front of the buildings was a clearing that afforded a suburb view of the distant mountains. We ate the baguettes and fruit that we had brought for lunch with a cold drink purchased from the restaurant. And, unlike the previous road side stop, there were clean and free toilets. Hanging from the roof near the men’s toilets, J found the most hilarious sign; LED lights depicted a man peeing, and flashing lights animated a large arc of his stream, like a little fountain. Most amusing.

From the roadhouse, the road slowly descended and straightened out, but became more and more dusty and bumpy. The villages were larger and closer together. Vang Vieng wasn’t too much further. The surrounding landscape was stunning. After more than six hours in our luxurious van, I was getting pretty anxious to get out. Unlike our boat trip where I could walk around and stretch, these hours of just sitting were starting to wear thin. Though I never tired of the views and ever changing scenery, I was tired of the inside of the vehicle.

Finally, we arrived in VV at about 4pm, after the roughest, bone-jarring, super potholed and rutted final stretch of road of the whole trip. Hotel Vansana was very welcoming and we were promptly shown to our room – the executive suite. I loved it! Yes. It was spacious. Yes. The view was fantastic. Yes. The amenities were great with large bathroom and shower, lots of cupboards and seats. But oh - the decor; it was so kitsch. The only things missing were seventies-style, flying ducks on the wall. I so loved it! The only thing that concerned me was the thin mattress on the retro-style, wooden bed base (which I needn’t have worried about as I slept like a corpse both nights).

With my feet itching to get out and check out the town, we dumped our bags and headed out to explore. Vang Vieng is a fairly large town, but the main tourist area comprised of a couple of blocks lined with bars, restaurants, and internet cafes, interspersed with many guesthouses and backpacker hostels. We did a lap of the main block, finding many of the much read about (and complained about) bars with large TV screens playing ‘Friends’ and ‘Family Guy’. A few stoned looking backpackers sat propped up against the low lounges, slowly devouring a large bowl of French fries.

As we walked around, we found the town very quiet, almost empty. Only a couple of the TV bar/restaurants had anyone in them. There were very few shops, but an inordinate number of pizza places, each claiming to be something better or different than the others; pan pizzas, wood fired pizzas, deep dish pizzas, authentic Italian pizzas, healthy pizzas. So J and I decided not to have pizza in this pizza loving place. At least most restaurants also had a Lao food section on their menus.

So, after walking the few main blocks, we found ourselves at another Aussie Bar. The signs out front claimed the best hamburgers, bangers and mash, fish & chips and meat pies. The afternoon sun was sinking so we chose an outside table in the shade. Steve, the owner formerly from Perth, was sitting bare-chested at one of the front tables, beer in hand, watching the street. Once we ordered our beers, he turned to us and asked where we were from, where we’d been, etc etc. So another chat with another Aussie bar owner over a beer or two. He was very friendly and gave us a few tips of places to see and things to do. He also recommended a tour operator to take us out to see some caves. We also chatted about the endless re-runs of Friends in the TV bars. He was at a complete loss as to why they were so popular. Taking a gulp of his beer, Steve commented further adding he couldn’t understand why they all showed the same program. He had suggested to one of the bar owners to at least show something – anything – different; Sienfeld, Simpsons, or even 90210. But, it seemed that the locals had concluded that these were the only shows that the backpackers would watch, and if they played something different, no-one would come in. For this reason, he purposely only showed sports on his couple of screens, and had a satellite feed from somewhere. He even managed to get an AFL match (Australia rules football) once a week.

We chatted for an hour or so over a few beers and some delicious fat cut potato chips. Knowing we had only two nights in VV, which meant only one full day, we took some of Steve’s advice to do a half day tour with a tour guide to see the water cave, and leave the afternoon open to explore on our own. It was starting to get dark as we walked over a block or so to the Wonderful Tours shop front to make our arrangements. They guys were very friendly and we told them that Steve sent us. Admittedly they did try to sell us the full day tour that included kayaking and bar hoping down the Nam Song river. But J and I negotiated a half day trip, with lunch included, for a good price (can’t recall now but I think I figured it to be about $15 or $20 or so each).

With receipt in hand, we headed back to our room to re-fresh before returning to the Aussie bar. Steve was again sitting at the front table, and a few tables inside were now occupied. We chatted more with Steve, and heard some of his stories about life and laughs in Vang Vieng. He was very proud of his ‘Huge Aussie Burger’, complete with two home made beef patties, egg, bacon, beetroot, salad on a toasted sesame seed bun. As we watched, two of these huge burgers were served to a table near-by. No exaggeration, they stood six inches high, surrounded by a sea of fries. Steve boasted how many young blokes came in specifically for his burgers. No doubt, they provided great replenishment after a big day tubing, or kayaking, or whatever.

So, J ordered a burger, but not the huge double whammy, and I also ordered a vegetarian burger after Steve told me that they made the veggie pattie themselves on site. The bar had more people now the sun had set. Many more crazy young people were wondering around, many with bruises and bandages undoubtedly from tubing accidents. J was ready to head back to our room, but I wasn’t. So I set off to check my email and enjoy some of the crazy vibe of the town. I passed many young people, many in bikinis or short, short skirts, half naked and bare foot. Though only early evening, many looked like they only just got up, while others were already on the way to drunken oblivion.

The first internet cafe was cheap, but the keyboards had been used so much that the letters were no longer visible. So I left after trying to type some emails and soon found a slightly more expensive internet place, with much newer computers that also served beer. My kind of place. From where I sat in front of my pay by the minute PC, I could see the fun and fames unfolding on the street as I tapped out some notes to my friends and family back home. I had deliberately chosen not to take my laptop travelling so I could enjoy the trip more, rather than the hassle of finding internet connections and feeling like I needed to log on all the time. This was the first time I checked in electronically and I relaxed with a cold beer in hand while writing a few lines home about how much of a wonderful time I was having and the wonderful sights I’d seen. From the amazing view I’d seen from the hotel room, my appetite was wet, ready for the next full day in this amazing place. - k