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Leaving Chiang Mai was similar to leaving Hong Kong, I found
a city that I felt at home in but wasn’t sad as I knew this would not be the
last time I would be here.
The flight from Chiang Mai to Luang Prabang was on a tiny prop
plane, which was less than half way full and so bounced about in the sky for
its hour duration. It was an experience but not a particularly enjoyable one.
We landed in Luang Prabang about a couple of hours before sunset and the
temperature outside was deceptively cool. We sorted our visas, collected our
bags and made our way to an ATM.
The currency in Laos, aside from US Dollars is the Laotian
Kip. I knew that I’d be dealing with big numbers but wasn’t prepared for the
options on the screen of the cash machine. Instead of the usual 10,20,50 you
might see at home I was faced with options of 100,000, 250,000 and even
1,000,000. ATM’s have a time limit on them and getting to the withdrawal page
can often be a lengthy process so I was trying to quickly decipher what would
be a sensible amount and what would bankrupt me. I hit the 500,000 button and
out poured a trees worth of paper.
We queued up at the taxi rank, handed over our destination
and paid the 50,000 fare. I had absolutely no idea how much I had taken out of
the cash machine and even less idea how much I’d just paid to get to the hotel.
At time of writing 10,000 kip equates to £0.80p, I’m hopeless at maths and so
got even more lost when trying to work it out in my head.
Our taxi pulled up and the 8 or so people waiting clambered
in. I’d read nonstop reports of how bad the roads are here, nothing but dirt
tracks and pot holes so you can imagine my surprise and delight when we get out
onto the smooth tarmac, roads far superior to those back home. 20 minutes past
without even the slightest of bumps. The taxi then turned following signs to
the town and here the road ran out- literally. In front of us workmen were busy
laying the road, their diggers and lorries creeping along beside them. The taxi
pulled over and gestured to one couple that their hotel was “just over there”.
It took a moment for this to register with them. Everyone else in the taxi
breathed a sigh of relief. “Over there”, meant navigating piles of rubble,
heavy machinery and a three foot deep ditch running the full length of one side
of the road. The couple were easily in their 60s and both had large rucksacks,
front and back. Everyone wished them luck.
The next leg of the journey was somewhat slower and less
comfortable. The majority was spent behind a bulldozer as it smoothed out a
rough path for us until we returned back to a more recognisable road. We
scrapped past the bulldozer and continued on further into town. Again, the
driver pulled over and pointed, “Cold River- that way, can’t go any further”.
Although this sounded ominous it was more to do with the narrow side street
than the state of the path. We walked to 50m to our guesthouse and were greeted
by a friendly and welcoming face, a speedy check in and we were here.
By the time we stepped out onto the streets the sun was
setting. The deep orange and black sky silhouetted the rows of palm trees, and
as I sat in a local restaurant sipping on an ice cold Beerlao and enjoying a
rather spicy bowl of Tom Yum I felt very much at peace.
Before deciding to go travelling I knew nothing of Laos
(pronounced like cow not mouse), if I ever heard it mentioned I
assumed that it was part of Thailand. But as the trip got closer I made a
concerted effort to familiarise myself with this lesser known gem of a country.
Laos, for the benefit of those who don’t know is a landlocked country
sandwiched between China, Myanmar (Burma), Thailand, Vietnam and Cambodia. Laos
is about the same size as the UK but with a population of just 6.7 million as
opposed to 65 million, so there is plenty of space to stretch out. It has
suffered heavy bombing from America in what is known as “The Secret War”. It
was bombed for two main reasons, firstly to prevent people from moving freely
between the top and bottom of Vietnam during the war and secondly to eradicate
Communism. I once read a horrifying statistic that the number of bombs dropped
equated to a plane load, every 8 minutes, 24 hours a day for 9 years. This
makes Laos the most heavily bombed country per capita in history. Up to a third
of the bombs dropped did not explode and to this day continue to kill innocent
people. Some 200,000 people, 40% of whom are children have been killed by UXO
(Unexploded Ordnance) since the bombings finished some 40 years ago. America
spent more in three days of bomb attacks than it has in its 16 year clean-up
operation ($52 million). Laos is still a communist country.
But despite its recent and traumatic history Laos is by far
the most peaceful, welcoming and beautiful country I have ever visited. There
is little sign of the impact of this war, at least here in Luang Prabang with
the exception of all the plant pots and barbeques made from bomb shells that
line the streets…
Luang Prabang has two rivers running either side of its main
road. The first and most famous is the Mekong and the second is the Nam Khan.
Walking along the latter the following morning I got to experience the true
temperature of Laos, a chilling 39 degrees. Somehow though this temperature
felt manageable, perhaps it was the lower humidity compared to parts of
Thailand or faint breeze coming off the water. Whatever it was I felt
comfortable walking around.
The pace of life here is very laid back, uber-relaxed.
Nobody is rushing or pushing, the cars are not speeding or beeping their horns.
It is calm and perfectly quiet. Unlike sleepy towns such as Ayutthaya where its
quietness was a result of its inactivity, Luang Prabang is full of life, coffee
shops are buzzing with people, children are swimming in the river and markets are
in full swing but somehow everything is still.
We work our way down to a bamboo bridge which joins the
river from the main town to a local village. The bridge is like something built
in a Top Gear special. Once our feet were on firmer ground we were able to
enjoy the spectacular view. The sun was beating down on the fast flowing river,
mountains reflected in the golden shimmers of the water. The skyline is
phenomenal, the dense mountain ranges vanishing into the distance become like
clouds in the otherwise clear blue sky. Around me is thick, green vegetation
and the sound of birds, insects and the unmistakable “daa-ka” of the gecko.
It’s hard to want to do much else than lay here and let it all go on around
you. It’s at this point I understand why the Laos visa only lasts for 15 days,
any longer and you would reach a state of chilled so deep that you would no
longer be able to function. As I write this, almost a week on I am slumped in a
coffee shop barely able to lift my own head, the fact that I am typing makes me
seem like an Olympic athlete compared to those around me but I am little more
than a brain in a jar in my current state.
We manage to get up from the river side bench and make a
short assent into the village behind us. The heat has been affecting Hatty all
morning and this climb was the nail in the coffin for her, she looks like she
could faint at any moment and so we cut short our trip to the unknown and head
back across the bridge. She tops up on fluids and retires back to the room.
Somehow the heat still isn’t an issue for me so I make my way into the busier
streets on Luang Prabang on my own.
The main road, Sisavangvong
comprises of handicraft shops, massage parlours, coffee shops, tour operators, bike hire and money exchanges
in an almost uniform fashion. Although almost everything on this road exists
for the tourists it doesn’t feel forced like Bangkok’s’ KhaoSan Rd. This may be
partly due the fact that old town Luang Prabang is a UNESCO world heritage site
and so all the architecture has been preserved and protected. Although the
contents might not be, the buildings themselves are 100% authentic so you never
forget you’re in Laos. The architecture itself is heavily influenced by the
cities time under French rule, a heritage kept alive today mostly through the
high volume of bakeries.
I wander the streets with no real aim, simply enjoying being
in this most easy going Asian city. I find a coffee shop playing Laotian dub
music and perch myself on at a street side table, I order a coffee and settle
into my chair. A topless local man appears and staggers over to me, he has a
small bunch of plants and flowers which he places on my table, pauses and then
offers me his smoking pipe. Judging my his euphoric state and vacant stare I am
led to believe it wasn’t tobacco in his pipe. I kindly refused his generous
offer. He left me the flowers and moved on to the next table. He only offered
them a stolen restaurant menu, I felt flattered.
Moving on from the coffee shop I found myself asking for a
Lao Massage. Having had my feet and legs pummelled in Hong Kong, stood on and
reshaped in Thailand you would think I would have clicked what entails as a
massage in Asia. I hadn’t. A Lao Massage isn’t dissimilar to a Thai Massage,
both use pressure points- mainly in the feet to warm the body up before an
onslaught of punching and pulling to straighten you out. Unlike the Thai
massage nobody stood on and walked over my back and legs, instead here in Laos,
they crawl on you applying constant pressure with their knuckles, this is
teamed with regular pinching and of course a healthy dose of punching. The
treatment ends with every possible joint being clicked, from toes and fingers
to the more rewarding back and neck. It was less painful than the Thai massage,
or perhaps my pain threshold had increased. Either way the 40,000 kip (£3.20)
was a steal for a massage, I used to pay my Osteopath £50+ for the same
service.
Once back out in the afternoon sun I continued down the main
road and towards the many temples. I had little interest on going inside them
but they are very photogenic, I walked up a flight of stairs to get a better
shot of them but as I climbed more stairs were revealed from behind the trees.
I continued my climb until I reached a sign that said “160 steps down, 160
steps up”. To experience the second half you have to pay 20,000 kip, I did and
continued climbing. The steps are steep and wide, often requiring three or four
strides to move onto the next one. At the top there is a temple, around which
panoramic views of the city are offered from every side. This is by far the
most stunning viewpoint in the main city. As I walked around the base of the
temple I was met by another set of stairs leading back down but on the opposite
side to the ones I used to come up. I didn’t have my bearings of the city but
was in an exploring mood and so worked by way down. I arrived at another
smaller temple which had a number of large statues, one of which was a
reclining Buddha, it wasn’t dissimilar to the one I saw in Bangkok with the
exception of the crowds, in fact I was the only person in sight. The steep
steps eventually brought me into a small hillside village, which at a guess
mostly housed monks. The path became more narrow until I was basically walking
through peoples front rooms to get down the hill, nobody said anything but I
felt awkward and dumb. I came back out onto a path and soon to a final set of
stairs which delivered me onto a main road facing a river. I recognised the
river, the bridge and even some of the markets and so thought I knew where I
was. The heat and the excessive number of stairs had made me eager to get back
to the room, that and I should probably check on Hatty.
I turned left and walked along the road for about ten
minutes, my brain was ticking all the landmarks off, confirming to me that I
did know where I was and that we were heading in the right direction. As I
turned the corner I found myself back on the main road, this I knew was wrong.
My brain then reminded me that I should have in fact turned right when I got
off the hill, I’m a man though and as such I never go back on myself, so
instead I decided to walk back into the town where I would turn down an
available side street, re-join the original road and head back to the
guesthouse. Those who read my Koh Phi Phi blog (sea urchin incident) will know
my logic and will also know its usually flawed. As planned I turn down the
first side street, follow it round and reach a tall concrete wall, I genuinely
contemplated climbing it to avoid walking back on myself but for once I decided
to be sensible. Back on the main road I keep walking, arrive at another side
street and meet the same concrete fate. As this point it becomes apparent to me
that I have two choices, walk back on myself or continue to the staircase,
climb the 300 plus stairs up to the temple, back through the village and then
down the other side in order to get back on the road to home. More than 600
unnecessary steps and some 50 minutes later I walk back into the room red faced
and drenched in sweat.
That evening after some considerable time spent under a cold
shower we walked back to the main road in search of an evening meal. Every day
from 5pm until late (between 9pm-11pm) the main road fills with market stalls
selling the usual selection of Beerlao vests, elephant pants and “traditional”
handicrafts, which include Opium pipes and wooden iPhone “speakers”. Although
relatively interesting to walk through, there is one main reason people flock
here. At the end of the rows of stalls you come to a junction, ahead there is
little more than a few shops but to your right is a long and winding food
market. The opening stalls offer fruits and sweet items but as you enter the
covered market the smells and sights become much more interesting. Large grills
and barbeques cooked huge chunks of meat and whole fish, there is everything
from entire ducks and chickens to other animals that I didn’t (want to)
recognise. Grilled, smoked and fried meats wrapped around long skewers, on the
bone or shredded could be purchased from any number of stall, even the less
desirable innards were on offer.
None of this looked particularly appetising to my vegetarian
companion so we continued deeper into the sweltering, smoky tent. “Buffet,
150,000” a voice hollered at us, nudging a bowl into our hands. I looked up at
the mounds of food, stacked some ten dishes along and five dishes high. From
rice and noodles to curries and pakoras, every dish was vegetarian so Hatty was
in heaven. There was choice a plenty and it all looked great. I piled my bowl
high and then topped it off with some of the meat options, grabbed an ice
cooled Beerlao and squeezed myself into a space on one of the near-by tables.
The food was delicious and ridiculously filling, we finished up and went to pay,
less than 50,000 for both meals and drinks, that’s £4 in old money.
As previously mentioned, the visa we had acquired for Laos was
only valid for 15 days. Weeks ago when booking our flights to Laos we were very
unsure of what to expect when we arrived, we had read about the difficulty of
travelling across the country, its lack of a railway and that buses often had
armed guards on them. We also knew that we wanted to end up in Hanoi, in the
north of Vietnam. As Luang Prabang sits facing Hanoi and flights between the
two are relatively cheap we opted to make a week long visit to Luang Prabang
and consider that our Laotian experience. Sitting writing this towards the end of that
week I am glad of that decision, this is an outstandingly beautiful city and I’ve
loved every minute here. I’ve not killed myself on backbreaking journeys down
the country, I’ve certainly not rushed by time here. 15 days would not be long
enough to properly see the country, certainly not to do it justice. Instead I’ve
familiarised myself with a wonderful city and have been left with the
confidence to explore more of this country on a later date. Travelling after
all is a marathon not a sprint, something we both learnt the hard way in India.
With Vietnam on our minds we visit a number of travel agents
and start getting quotes and processing times for our Visas. We find a small,
family run place which offered visas and tours. The lady was really helpful and
it wasn’t long before our passports were shipped off to be stamped. We also
booked a tuk-tuk for the following day to take us to Kuang Si waterfall, the
driver waits for you and then takes you back when you’re done. The guesthouse
we are staying at offers a group tour to this waterfall for 300,000 each. For
this you get a ride to the waterfall (45 minutes each way) and a limited time
to explore and swim in the waterfalls. We
paid 100,000 each. Even with the 20,000 entry fee to the park per person this
was still a stinker of deal.
We spent that afternoon is a bar called Utopia. Situated
along the Nam Khan river, Utopia is a large Zen like space, the main area is housed
in a large open sided bamboo hut, there is a mixture of sofas and triangle
pillows turning the floor space into a giant mattress. http://www.chiangmaicraft.com/thaicushion_2_mattress.asp
There are two garden areas, heavily decorated with tropical
plants and with chairs and tables made from tree trunks and old bombs.
Continuing down the stone path there is a large decked area which again is
furnished with the triangle pillows, all facing out to the river. It is the ultimate
chill out area, if the pace of Luang Prabang wasn’t already slow enough for you
then Utopia is the place for you to really unwind. Of course if you can muster
some energy then you can always play some table football or even make use of
the faux beach volleyball court.
The owner is a cool-dude American (Canadian?) and the menu
reflects this, offering little in the way of Lao cuisine and concentrating more
on big burgers and pizzas. I had the blue cheese and steak burger and it was
fantastic.
In fact the food is so good here we returned many, many
times throughout out trip. This was the first place in Laos that I tried Fried
River Moss, a snack that has fast become a staple for me. My favourite dish on
the menu is the spicy papaya salad, its ridiculously flavoursome but I seriously
underestimated the “spicy”. I had become cocky as I’d tried some of the hottest
dishes that India and Thailand had to offer and had therefore become accustomed
the heat. This salad fucked me up.
Many years ago I became transfixed on spicy sauces such as “Blairs
Death Sauce”, “Widow Hot Sauce” and “Colon Blow A Red Habanero
Enema". These sauces register over 600,000 heat units on the Scoville
scale, Tabasco sauce only gets 100 points and a Jalapeño pepper tops out at 5,000
units, to give it some perspective. There are sauces which
are awarded 16,000,000 units but you’ve got to be psychotic to even contemplate
putting that on anything you later wish to consume. Anyway, I digress. This
fascination led to me purchasing a selection of sauces which I presented to my
dad and brother. We did what any self-respecting men would do, we grabbed a
serving spoon each and filled its cool metallic surface with the deep red lava
from the bottle. I swear the spoon actually fogged up when the sauce hit it. Initially,
by that I mean for about the first half a second the experience was enjoyable,
by that I mean it wasn’t painful. The furnace that sparked up in my mouth,
across my lips, down my throat and into the pit of my stomach lasted for
nothing shy of 20 minutes. My eyes streamed so heavily that my vision was
reduced to under 5%, I sweated in places I didn’t know I could sweat. The three
of us became delusional, hysterical and even experienced mild hallucinations.
My two younger sisters watched on, neither impressed nor sympathetic.
I
knew at the time it was going to hurt, that I was only doing it for the simple,
sinister reason of testing my pain threshold. When I ordered the papaya salad
in Utopia I ordered it for the simple reason of being hungry and wanting to
enjoy a delicious meal. So you can perhaps imagine my displeasure when I
started to experience the symptoms described above, whilst sitting, surrounded
by people in temperatures in the high 30’s. Despite the agony I was in there
was something very addictive about the dish that kept me returning. I punished
myself until every last scrap was gone from my plate. I was glowing red, heat
was emitting from me but I felt alive.
Even though Utopia had tried to kill me I kept returning to
its tranquil environment time and time again. If you ever come to Luang Prabang
then be sure to pay this place a visit.
The following morning our tuk-tuk arrived to take us to the
waterfall. Kuang Si park has as you might imagine, a waterfall but it also has
a Moon Bear sanctuary, set up by Free The Bears. All the bears have been
rescued from poachers who were transporting the bears to sell them to bile
farms or food markets. The bile in a Moon Bears gall-bladder is believed to
have healing qualities in Chinese medicine. The Chinese also have a taste for
the “delicacy”, bear claw soup. Whichever fate the bear faced it only had one
ending. Free The Bears works with the bears, getting them back to full health
and the future plan is to be able to reintroduce the bears back into the wild.
Free The Bears have a number of sanctuaries across South East Asia, one sanctuary
in Cambodia sent two of its bears to my local Zoo. Think what you will of Zoo’s
but Colchester Zoo is one of the finest in Europe and has done exceptional work
in the field of conservation. I saw the two bears when they arrived at the Zoo,
tired, thin and afraid. I visited the Zoo last Summer and they are now the
picture of health, they are playful and happy. The same success story can be
said here in Kuang Si. There are more than ten bears here, they are a large
open air area to explore, lots of structures to climb on and lounge in, there
is even a stream running through the enclosure. The keepers have devised many
interesting ways for the bears to “catch” their food and have built all manor
of toys for the bears to keep themselves entertained. They interact well with
each other and look very content. Seeing the bears so well treated was amazing.
The enclosure is open topped and there is a high viewing platform which gives the
illusion of being in there with the bears. It was fascinating to watch them
play, laze about and generally be bears. I’d forgotten about the waterfall.
Kuang Si waterfall is astonishing, the turquoise lakes and
lagoons at the base of the 200ft waterfall can be swum in and there are routes
for trekking to the summit of the waterfall. We started by taking a dip in one
of the pools, the water was, shall we say, “refreshing” but once the dangly
bits had been submerged it was rather pleasant. It’s difficult to be anything less
than happy when in an environment so impressive, nature was properly showing
off here and I was truly captivated.
“Oww”, “Ouch!”, “Korrr”, “What was that?” People’s cries
filled the air, I became alert and concerned then “Oww” I felt it, “Bah”, and
again. I looked down to see a school of little fish nibbling my ankles. They
never hurt but they did take you by surprise, every time I jumped a let out a
(manly) shriek. The fish are similar to ones found in the foot spas that
flooded the high streets a few years ago. Bears, waterfalls and a foot spa treatment
not bad at all for £1.60.
We worked our way through the many pools and lagoons, avoiding
the fish as best as possible and taking every opportunity to shower under the mighty
waterfall. Looking up to the top of the fall was stunning and I knew I had to
be up there. We got out, got dressed and started the climb. Hatty is not a
confident climber nor does she enjoy climbing but she’s also a good spirit so
decided to join me. After about ten minutes of demanding climbing and a couple
telling us that you can’t get to the peak she had had enough. She parked
herself on a log and I continued on up the face, it was challenging and at
times a little hairy but I was determined to see this beast from the top. Not
long later the ground levelled out and as I followed the signs through the
trees I could see an opening. I was there and the view was monumental. I waded
through the knee deep water and as close to the edge as my balls would let me.
The volume of the water as it plummeted off the edge of the rock pounded my
ears, I peered over the sheer drop unable to see the ground below. In front of
me mountains and hills filled the landscape and behind and above me great
mounds of vegetation. It was breath-taking.
I’ve slowly been feeling rougher as the weeks gone on, good
case of the man-flu on its way, and Hatty has been the same. The common factor
is that we’ve both started on our course of anti-malaria tablets. It’s made us
both very sluggish, heavy headed and have pretty achy joints, so after
yesterdays fun packed adventure we’re both dead to the world. Unable to muster
the energy to think of something to do, let alone to do it we settled for
dragging our sorry arses into a coffee shop and make a start on our blogs. On
the first day this didn’t happen. We found a coffee shop and managed a
breakfast and lunch plus numerous drinks, leaving there some six hours later
having basically just stared at the ceiling all day. We, for the first time on
the trip didn’t go to the night market either. No buffet, I must have been
poorly.
The following day was almost as woeful, I did manage to make
a start on this blog entry, so I apologise if the opening few paragraphs are shit.
Having tried every food and drink option on the menu at Pilgrims we headed to
collect our passports, now sporting 30 day Vietnam visas. Returned to the night
market and raided the buffet in the hopes of getting our energy levels back.
Our final day in Luang Prabang saw us waking up mildly more
enthusiastic but still not ourselves. I’d read about a place, Café de Laos
which served siphon coffee. I had no idea what this was but it sounded cool and
the coffee had rave reviews. Despite coffee being one of Laos great exports it
was hard to get a decent cup, so I was keen (desperate) to find Café de Laos.
Siphon coffee simply put is witchcraft.
First watch this slightly disorientating
.gif, and then come back here.
Did you see how the water defies gravity? Watching the Barista prepare the science experiment was fascinating, watching the water
being heated and levitate towards the freshly ground coffee was unnerving and
then witnessing the coffee brew itself and then drip feed itself back into the
lower chamber for me to pour into my cup was superb. The coffee tasted
wonderful and the process of it being made was spectacular. I’ve never been so
entertained watching a drink being made. I felt like a kid who’d just seen his
very first piece of magic. Better still it made four cups of coffee.
If you’re interested to find out how the magic actually
happens then feel free to read self-titled “Coffee Geeks” detailed report on it
here http://coffeegeek.com/guides/siphoncoffee
.
The experience, and
more likely the caffeine hit had lifted my spirits but I was still feeling
groggy and so we returned back to Utopia, stretched out on the bed of cushions,
ordered a homemade lemonade and crashed out…
Early flight tomorrow to Hanoi, Vietnam.
Laos, I will return.
As always thanks for reading.
