We woke up early in Chiang Khong, the border town on the Thai side of the Mekong ready to cross into Laos. We’d had another roller-coaster minivan ride to get here, this time in darkness, which had not only upset stomachs but shredded nerves. After a short sleep in a rather shabby guest house and equally shabby breakfast we were shuttled to the border crossing in a pick-up truck. Amusingly the guest house owner’s dog also came along for the ride in already overcrowded truck seemly just to goad the local dogs by barking as we headed through the streets. The guest house owner brought us to his shop a minute’s walk from the border ready take advantage and make a few more Baht out of us before we left the country by providing us with anything we didn’t have to get our Laos visa on the other side. We’d already had our passport photos but apparently we needed US dollars, the only currency accepted to pay for our visa once on the other side of the Mekong. At a less than favourable rate we changed some money and made our way to the river bank through a very casual passport control area. As we climbed on board the small boat that would take us across into Laos we noted this was the fourth mode of transport we’d used to cross into another country having gone by plane, bus and foot.
We weren’t sure what to expect on the other side, with Laos being a new country to both of us. As soon as we got our visa and through passport control our first sight was a restaurant with bottles of Beer Lao adorning the tables. As we’d soon discover, Beer Lao is everywhere and sometime you wonder if it’s the only commercial brand in the country. A friendly passenger on the boat, who turned out to be touting for bus tickets, helped us arrange a “VIP” minibus to our first destination, Luang Nam Tha. This is one of the most northern destinations on the backpacker circuit in Laos. The town is a base for exploring the Nam Ha NPA (National Protected Area) which has become a popular destination for trekking, something we were keen to do more of having not made the most of the opportunities in Pai. The minibus ride there was much the same as the winding roller-coasters trips in Thailand, however here the roads were like Laos itself, much poorer. The difference in wealth to its neighbour Thailand is immediately evident and as we made our way along the roads everything felt much more rural and basic. Despite an economy that has been rapidly growing over the last few years, it is still one of the poorest countries in the world.
After several hours in the minivan we were dumped on the side of the road after our driver had flagged down a Sawngthaew to take us the last few miles into Luang Nam Tha. Sawngthaews are small flat bed trucks with narrow benches for seats covered by a canopy. We were dropped off in the middle of town in front of one of the hotels featured in the Lonely Planet. With little energy to look around which we prompted checked. Fortunately the rates were low, the room clean and we enjoyed decent meal in the restaurant. After being bombarded with Beer Lao advertising all day on the road it wasn’t surprising that we also started on the beers. After just 3 pints (far more than we usually drink on our travels) we were rather worse for wear and we retired to our room for an early night.
After sleeping off the drinks from the night before we made it down for breakfast where we enjoyed fresh baguettes with our eggs, butter and jam. This is one of little the cultural influences left by the French when it was once under their rule. We decided that we’d spend our first day taking a look around town and the nearby area by renting a couple of mountain bikes and we were also keen to find somewhere to book up a trek. Trekking is the main tourist attraction here with several companies offering 1-4 day treks in the hills featuring visits to hill tribe villages, kayaking and rafting. What is interesting about the tourism industry here is the efforts made to promote its eco credentials. Tourism in Laos, until the last ten or so years was not common and it would seem that after seeing what has happened with its neighbours, especially Thailand, efforts have been made to make sure that tourism has as positive effect for all. With foreign help, much of which has come from New Zealand and Australia, Laos has established tourism businesses which care for the environment and redistribute the money made all those involved, including the people of the hill tribe villages whom they take people to. In fact every tour normally lists exactly where your money goes with percentages towards costs, wages and money to the villages. It’s a positive story and good to see when so much damage has been done by tourism elsewhere. Not everything is perfect however in this part of the world, with tourism not the only industry bringing change to the area in recent years. I overheard a conversation by an American who seemed to be in town to helping with one particularly problem. He was talking on a table next to us one evening talking people who seemed to be Laos academics or officials about the effect of Chinese businesses that were growing rubber trees. This has had a very detrimental effects to the environment and the local people employed who he said had ended up virtually enslaved on very low wages and had lost control of their land. That said it seems that as Laos opens up its economy and its borders it is not making many of the mistakes that other countries have in the past.
During our cycle around town there wasn’t too much to see either in the new or old part of town. However after tasty noodle soup for lunch we headed off down a dirt road to see what we could find. After a couple of kilometres we found ourselves in a quiet little village of traditional Laos style huts. We stopped to take a look at a woman who was working on a traditional scarf using silk. This is something neither of us had seen before. Several cocoons of silk were sitting in a pot of hot water as threads were being spooled off each one to sew into the scarf. As we watched the lady she showed us the silk worm larvae, which is at the core each ball of silk and offered one to us to eat! We both politely declined. One scarf took four days to make and we were told we could buy one for 100,000 Kip (about 8 pounds) but we weren’t carrying much money. We continued further along the road coming across another village and spent the rest of the hot afternoon cycling around a long loop back to town. Despite the heat, it was relatively easy going along the flat roads with rice paddies either side, however we were glad to stop along the way for drink at a restaurant before finally making back into town.
In the evening we headed back to the trekking tour operator we’d signed up with in the morning to give them the rest of our details. We were hoping that some other people had signed up to share the cost of taking a trek, so we were happy to see 4 more people had joined us on the two day trek we’d selected. We’d be taking a 5 hour trek up into the hills and down into an isolated valley to spend the night as guests in a hill tribe village. Knowing that we’d need to be on good form the following evening, we had a big meal (sans beer) and we in bed early. We felt certain that this was going to be an adventure worth talking (and writing) about.
The following day we gathered at the trekking operator’s office where we met our fellow trekkers and our guide for the first time. We’d already noticed some names and nationalities on the register the night before. Lisa from Finland, Chau from China, and Hans and Ulla a couple from Germany. It was interesting group of people with far more varied backgrounds and ages than the usual mob of twenty to thirty something backpackers. We knew we’d be in safe hands with our guide who was a well spoken young Luang Nam Tha local called Hong who’d been helping run tours here for the last five years. After checking in our backpacks and sorting out the remaining paperwork we all jumped in the back of a Sawngthaew which after stopping to get provisions took us three-quarters of an hour out of town to the start of our trail. The morning, we’d been told, would be hardest with a walk up hill into the bamboo forests to reach the top of a ridge around 1000 metres up where we’d stop and have lunch. After lunch we’d descend down the other side into the valley where we’d eventually get to a river which we’d follow upstream to the hill tribe villages.
The morning did indeed prove to be the hardest going. The trails are nothing more than dirt tracks, often very steep, dusty, covered in dry leaves or left uneven and awkward by the heavy rains that fall here during the monsoon. It was within our physical limits, but we were quickly going through our water supplies and stopping for regular breaks to catch our breath. The hot season had just started here in Laos, so by lunch temperatures were certainly 30C or more and we were glad when we were walking under the canopy of the trees which provided shade from the heat. The landscape itself mainly consisted of bamboo trees which sprouted out of the ground everywhere in clusters of wild growth. Much of the hillside on this side of ridge however had been cut down and flattened ready to be burnt in a controlled fire, the traditional way for preparing the land to grow rice. In fact as we neared the top of ridge we could hear and later see a fire in progress on a neighbouring hill. Bamboo makes a lot of noise when it’s burnt since its hollow structure snaps and pops as the heat causes the wood to warp and buckle. It also fills the air with a lot of smoke and makes the atmosphere very hazy something we’d noticed the day before on our bike ride. This makes the sky turn orange much like it does at sunset which can be somewhat confusing at 1pm in the afternoon. We encountered different people along the path. Two women were also making their way to the villages with tobacco to sell which they were busying bagging up whilst having a rest. Another was a man struggling to hauling two large planks of wood down the path. The only way to transport anything around here is by foot. We also saw groups of people combing the forests to harvest bamboo shoots to eat.
At the top of the ridge our guide led us to a shelter where we’d be having lunch. This had been carried up the hill by a young local porter who had outpaced us all morning. This was unpacked and laid out on a table by our cook who was accompanying us. He was responsible for preparing traditional food for next couple of days during our trek. Parcels of sticky rice, cooked vegetables and meats wrapped up in leaves put on the table and we gladly tucked in. After resting to let our food go down we were back on the move. Despite it being down hill, it was no less easy going, as the often steep decent was hard on the knees and the loose leaves slipped under foot. However most of us were now armed with a walking stick our chef had knocked up for us with his knife at lunchtime which came in handy. As a result Maren and I eventually settled on the “Walking Stick Posse” as a name for our group. After a couple of hours we’d made it down into the valleys and came across the first signs of human inhabitants in the form of old rice paddies along the river. After another half an hour along the river we’d made it to the first hill tribe village. This was truly a remote place. The only way to get here is by foot or by river and neither of those options is guaranteed. During the dry season the river level is too low for any boat to travel along it and even when full it is not capable of carrying big vessels. During the rainy season the foot paths become extremely treacherous and are certainly off limits to trekkers like us. As a result everything in the village is constructed from the materials close to hand, such as wood (especially bamboo) and leaves. As we made our way around we were warmly welcomed by the head of the village. This however was not our final stop, so after being given a tour we headed another half an hour further upstream to make it to our final destination for the day.
The village where we were staying for the night was similar if not a little more attractive. There were roughly ten to twelve huts, including a big hut by the river that would accommodate ourselves for the night, along with our guide and cook. One of the first things that struck me were the other animals that were present, with chicken, pigs and dogs all roaming freely around the village.
The pigs were the garbage men cleaning up any waste lying around, the dogs patrolled the perimeter and the roosters where responsible for waking everyone up very early in the morning. The village, despite being very basic was well organised and tidy. It seems like everything was naturally integrated into the environment and had its place and purpose. There was a very relaxed and peaceful atmosphere and time just seemed to slow right down as soon as we arrived. Children were playing in the river, cooling off from the warm afternoon sun and the sounds of their laughter echoed around the village. Maren commented that she thought it very unlikely that anyone had stress related problems here. We were quite literally far away from it all.
The women of the village were soon on hand to provide us with refreshment and to show us their handicrafts that were for sale; another way in which visitors generate income for the village. However, it was never a pushy affair with their things left at our door for us to look at and purchase in our own time. In fact during our whole stay we never felt awkward or uncomfortable despite the extreme differences in our backgrounds, wealth and cultures. Whilst we were outsiders, we were more than just a money making opportunity and they understand that we are interested to learn and experience their lifestyle and culture. Our favourite moment was joining the children in the river to have a swim and wash off the sweat and dirt from the long walk to get here. It was a magical experience in this place so far away from everything back home and just for a few minutes I felt like we part of the village. As things were getting dark our cook had prepared another feast for us, this time over a fire in our hut and we were joined by one of the members of the village who seemed to be the appointed host. As we ate he was pouring shots of rice spirit and was clearly not going to be happy until the whole bottle he had brought had been shared amongst us. It was a good end to an amazing day. As we all prepared for bed the only thing that spoiled this picture of simple village life was the sound of television from the one hut in the village that has a TV. However, as I attempted to drift off to sleep things were about to take a turn for the worse. I’d already had been suffering with a slightly upset stomach, but things were deteriorating rapidly. Incredibly painful stomach cramps were soon followed by severe diarrhoea and eventually vomiting. When Maren and Hong came out to find me after being woken by my retching, it was clear that was very ill.
As morning dawned and people began to get up, I began to contemplate my situation. I felt like death warmed up and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t be moving from my bed let alone trekking 5 hours across a jungle to get back to Luang Nam Tha. I talked through the options with Maren. We quickly aborted an attempt to leave early via a short cut Hong had suggest we take with a local guide, barely making it to the other side of the village before giving up. The other option was to stay in the village, perhaps for another night. Whilst not moving anywhere was appealing this also was a worry. Hong would soon be leaving with the rest of the group and once they had been left they’d be nobody that we could easily communicate with, since nobody else spoke a word of English. I was not feeling any better and had no idea what exactly was wrong with me. If I deteriorated further what would happen? Hans (being a doctor) was concerned that I might need treatment at a hospital for dehydration and told the group he thought it best we stick together. I’d already come to a similar conclusion myself not wanting to be left behind, so I was relieved that everyone had agreed that we should delay our departure and take the shorter route back together. I attempted to prepare myself as best I could for the journey back. A drink had been prepared by the cook after advice one of the village elders. This was a very bitter tea with loaded with chopped garlic and some opium. I was happy to try anything at this point and drank the foul concoction down. Hans also provided me with some more conventional medicine in the form of Imodium.
After another hour and half in bed I began to feel a little better and I was anxious to leave. It wasn’t going to be easy though. I’d already lost a lot of water and could not bear to eat anything. I felt weak to say the least as we set off mid morning. The two and half hour walk out of the valley to the top of ridge was physically one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Dehydration was the biggest worry as I started vomiting again as the steep slopes took their toll on me. I wasn’t alone however with everyone giving me their support. Maren was touched in particular by Hong who really showed genuine compassion and concern for my welfare as we made our way up the ridge. Maren also later commented it was physically demanding for her, never mind me, but somehow I hauled my way up to the top.
The worse was over. In fact as we stopped for lunch I was beginning to feel much better. I was now able to hold down liquids again and was happy to drink down the green tea we’d filled our water bottles with before we’d left the village. I couldn’t wait to get down the hill and on to the truck that would be waiting for us at the bottom. We left after lunch we made quick progress and my spirits were now high. However about half way down there was one last bit of drama. A woman warned us that we couldn’t go down the path as they had started burning the bamboo forests on one side! The prospect of having to go back up hill to take an alternative route filled me with dread, but Hong decided to see if there was still time to make it past. As we walked further down the path the sound of crackling bamboo got louder and louder, until we could see huge flames up on the side of the hill quickly advancing towards the path. Hong and our cook took no time in scouting ahead and decided it was safe to make a run for it. Thankfully we had time, though if we’d been much later we wouldn’t have been able to make through. Once safely on the other side of the fire it was less than an hour before we were sitting in the back of the truck that would take us home. I was absolutely shattered. I was however on the way to recovery and once back at the hotel I even hoped that I still might be able to enjoy a cold beer on my birthday the following day.
Back at the hotel I was already reflecting on the experience. Despite the nightmare of the second day it was still a highlight of our travels so far and was certainly more adventurous than anything we’d done previously. This was a place that was truly a world away from home, so much so you felt like you could physically feel the difference. Being ill was a small price to pay for the experience and privilege of having the opportunity to spend a little time there.
Not to mention the fact that we’d made some new friends, especially Hans and Ulla who we invited to have dinner with us on my birthday. It was great spending some time with them and as a couple we found ourselves looking up to them as we talked to them. Hans is a gynaecologist and having recently retired he has written a book on gynaecology to help in educating and training Laos doctors. Gynaecology is a specialisation which is a rarity in Laos with just a dozen or so currently practicing. Hans and Ulla had just spent the last few weeks living in the capital, Vientiane, to get firsthand experience what can help the people of Laos most in educating their doctors. He has done something that I really respect and admire spending his time after a successful career giving something back. It is type of thing that I would love to do myself in the future given the opportunity. Ulla is no less impressive as a successful female lawyer. Maren (who had once studied to be a lawyer) has a close friend who has faced a lot of difficultly in a profession that is still dominated by men. Ulla must have been somewhat of a trail blazer in her time. With Hans having finished his work in Vientiane they were now making their way back home to Germany and were taking time to see more of Laos before they left. We found ourselves wondering whether we’d be still be taking treks into the jungle to see remote parts of the world when we are a similar age. Just another reason we liked them so much.
So having almost completely recovered the following day I was able to enjoy my birthday by having a lovely meal with Hans, Ulla and of course Maren. Not to mention the little presents that Maren had impossibly managed to rustle up from the extremely sparse local shops; good quality 100% plastic playing cards; a birthday card (a modified Laos New Year card); candles that I could blow out and make a wish with; and some love heart biscuits. Certainly a birthday to remember!
After taking an extra day to recover from the trekking ordeal it was time to make a move. We were making our way towards Luang Prabang which was said to be one of the highlights of Laos and where we looking forward to enjoying the Laos New Year in a few days time. We were hoping to get there by boat, however with the river levels being low it was not possible directly from Luang Nam Tha. So after taking the advice of a fellow traveller, a French guy called Vincent (who we’d soon be getting to know a lot better) we were taking a local bus to Nong Kiau where he’d been told river levels were still high enough to make the second half of the journey by boat.
Nong Kiau was our next stop in Laos. We’d decided to take a local bus, shunning the luxury of the VIP minivan in search of a more authentic experience of how people normally get around in this country and save a few kip in the process. This usually means forgoing a bit of personal space and comfort but we’re somewhat used to it. That said our definition “no room left” always falls short. In this particular case we hadn’t figured on a stack of plastic stools appearing to create makeshift seats in the aisles. Another novelty for this particular journey was the plastic bags that were handed out to everyone before we set off. We had a good idea what these were for given the nature of the roads in this part of the world and a young guy who was already had to endure being on an aisle seat was soon filling up his bag. It was slow going along the winding roads though we were glad of the regular stops to stretch our legs. Vincent, our new acquaintance who we’d met in Luang Nam Tha, nearly ended up stopping a little too long at lunch and if Maren hadn’t repeatedly asked the bus to wait he’d have surely been left behind. 
Luang Prabang was clearly the place to be for New Year. We’d struggled to find a room in town, before following Vincent to the hostel he was going to be staying at with his friends. Whilst we ended up moving from the dorm the following day to find a double room on the other side of the river the hostel was our base for the Pii Mai celebrations run by a Laos family and headed by “Mr. Shampoo” who planned an itinerary each day for guests to join in the fun. Having already made several new friends at the hostel, especially Vincent’s friends Marc and Emily everything was in place to have a great time.
The most craziness however was to be found on the river. On the first official day of Pii Mai, Mr. Shampoo led us across the streets to river bank to board boats that would take us to an island where thousands of people had gathered for one big party which followed much the format as those on the street, except everything had been taken up a notch. Bags of flour had been introduced to the water warfare, which we were duly covered in as we got off the boat, just as everyone else had. There were several makeshift stages hosting different parties where people were dancing away to various kinds of music, mostly Asian pop music, a noisy blend of high pitched vocals and R’n’B beats. To keep the party going, food vendors were rustling up snacks from grilled fish and to chicken feet , as well making sure there was plenty of (warm) Beer Lao. The atmosphere, as with all the celebrations, was one of pure fun and I found myself comparing the Laos New Year favourably to a typically New Year back in London.
On the second official day of celebrations, Maren and I decided to take a break from the street parties in Luang Prabang and head to one of the most popular tourist attractions in the area, Tat Kuang Si, which features a wide multi-tiered waterfall. Unsurprisingly we were regularly soaked on the Sawngthaew we’d chartered to take us there, however it was welcome relief from the heat, not to mention a good opportunity to commit drive-by shooting on unsuspecting victims. Tat Kuang Si itself is also another popular destination at this time of year and the waterfall were heaving with families who had come here for the day to have a picnic. The waterfall themselves were, as we’d been told, well worth seeing, with pool after pool of turquoise water until finally culminating in huge water fall several storeys high.
On the last day of celebrations we opted for a more reserved and traditional start to the day by walking up the slopes of the Phu Si, an natural hill where paths take up you up to the That Chomsi stupa, the starting point for Pii Mai processions. As we walked around we saw evidence of all the fresh offerings that had been left to mark the start of the New Year. We spent the rest of the morning making our way round the other remaining town sights we had yet to visit. Finally we stopped for a coffee and pastry at one of the many French restaurants in Luang Prabang whilst waiting for today’s procession to begin. Here we saw the orange robe monks being rather more gently splashed with water as they filed past.
