Laos

Traveling to Laos from Bangkok was a breeze. We took an overnight train (first class sleeper car) to a town close to the Thai border, then hopped in a pick-up to the rest of the way. Border formalities when relatively smoothly, with the exception of the passport stamper holding our passports ransom for a dollar (¨Generally all tourists pay $1¨). After paying up, we wandered across no-man´s-land on foot and were lucky enough to catch a ride on a tour bus full of French people to the town of Pakse. We arrived in Pakse on December 31st, expecting to see some small sign of a New Year's Eve celebration, but the town was very quiet. We checked into a lovely new hotel with a bed that seemed to be nothing more than a plank of wood with a mattress pad, and set out to explore the very quiet town. That evening, we headed out to search for a New Year's celebration. However, after checking out several bars and restaurants and finding nothing, we ate a quiet meal and were in bed by 9 p.m.

[Before we continue with our Laos update, we must say that where we were in Laos was probably the least touristed area we have visited on our trip. No one (that we encountered in Southern Laos) spoke English and their alphabet is not Roman so all signs are impossible to read, so travel in Laos is a real challenge.]

The next day we headed to the bus station to find transport to the town of Tad Lo. We found the ramshackle bus, got settled into our rickety seats and were immediately accosted by sandwich sellers, whose sales technique consisted of piling several sandwiches onto unsuspecting people's laps and demanding payment. As the bus began to pull away, if they hadn't received payment they just yanked the sandwiches off the people's laps and jumped off the moving bus.

After several hours on the bus, we were dropped off roadside a mile or so outside of Tad Lo. A 30-minute, very hot and dusty walk later, we arrived in Tad Lo -- a town built around a river consisting of a couple dozen houses on stilts, one small hotel, 3 smaller guesthouses, 1 restaurant and few people selling grocery-type items in front of their homes. The town was populated largely by pigs, with a few cows, dogs and people mixed there as well. On this particular day though, the town was packed with Laotian tourists who were celebrating New Year's there. We had a moment of panic when we heard from other travelers that all the rooms were full, but fortunately were able to snag the last room in town. The town was so full (by full we mean there were probably about 40 tourists there), that families were renting out floor space in their living rooms for $1 and our hotel filled up its hallways and every inch of excess floor space for the same.

We had hoped to go trekking through nearby villages but finding a guide was impossible so we just explored on our own. In comparison to the Myanmar people, the Laotian people are very reserved. They don't stare, wave frantically, or acknowledge the presence of foreigners in their midst at all. (Our guidebook explains this behavior as apprehension possibly related to their experience with foreigners (ie Americans) dropping an excessive amount of bombs and landmines on their soil during the Vietnam War. In fact, the rumor is that more raw bomb tonnage per capita was exploded in Laos than in any other country in the history of modern warfare).

The next day we toured the town and surrounding areas by elephant (does it seem like we have an elephant obsession?) We rode through a very poor village where some other travelers had made the mistake of handing out balloons to some local children. Of course as soon as the last one was handed out, 2 dozen more children appeared hoping for one of these treasures only to be disappointed. We spent our nights in Tad Lo walking through the dark paths and the village, eating dinner in the only restaurant.

We decided to head south to the town of Attapeu next and were thus confronted with the task of determining a bus schedule where none existed. Through a combination of charades and repeating the word Attapeu to strangers, we ended up standing at the 'bus stop', on the side of the road with about 10 enormous pigs and their 100 piglets. As there was no clear schedule, we waited with our oinking friends for about 4 hours before catching a ride. The ride was in one of the most creative buses we had seen. The Laotian people are able to convert flat-bed trucks into buses by nailing on some wooden benches, then resting a barely secured wooden roof over them. The unpaved road was bumpy and very dusty, and by the time we arrived at our destination several hours later we were covered head to toe in red dirt. We ended up stuck in the town of Sekong for the night (halfway between Tad Lo and Attapeu). We searched for an hour for a hotel before finding a guesthouse/restaurant that inexplicably would not serve us food (even as a group of people were chowing down). Even though the food in Laos was in general by far the worst of our entire trip, nevertheless we needed to eat. So we headed out in search of some small morsel and were turned down at 2 restaurants and a supermarket before finding a place that agreed to serve us an entire watermelon cut-up on a plate for about 20 cents. We still haven't figured out why no one would sell us any food. The next day we headed by makeshift bus to Attapeu. Attapeu is a bustling little town on the banks of the river. We explored the market (which sold a variety of unidentifiable meats on sticks) and rode our bikes through farms and villages. (We must note at this time that Laos -- along with Vietnam and Cambodia -- is still heavily landmined, a leftover reminder of US air raids during the Vietnam war. One must be very careful not to go off the beaten path lest you should happen across any UXO - unexploded ordnance. Very sad and scary that the Laotian people have to live with this hazard indefinately.)

From Attapeu we were planning on heading south to some islands located in the Mekong River at the border of Cambodia. Of course the road heading south from Attapeu was closed so conveniently we went north to go south. We arrived at the town across the river from Don Kong aka 'The Big Island' only for Dale to be confronted twice in a row with his biggest traveling pet peeve. First, the bus driver tried to overcharge him 20,000 Lao kip (about $2) after Dale had seen all the other passengers pay 10,000 kip. Dale called his bluff, the bus driver knew the gig was up, and Dale paid the Laotian fare of 10,000 kip. Next, the ferry-canoe driver wanted to charge the outrageous fare of $10 for the 5 minute crossing - he was the only boat so he knew we were stuck - but Dale got him down to $7. Of course, later we found out it was supposed to be $5. After checking into our guesthouse, we explored the island by foot.

Don Kong is a pretty, peaceful place with several little restaurants overlooking the Mekong. During our walk, we were dismayed to find a baby monkey tied to a pole nailed between 2 trees at a hotel. The poor little thing could only swing back and forth on the short pole or crawl into his small monkey house nailed to a branch, but he had no water or food. Dana immediately noticed that his water bowl was cracked and as we were unable to find its owner we left and returned with a replacement and filled it with water. We then found a hotel employee and pointed out that the monkey had no food or water. She returned with a banana or two but for the next few days Dana insisted that she and Dale walk past the monkey to check that it had food and water. From then on it always did, but it never seemed to get any love or affection so we decided to provide some. In order to test the monkey for possible biting behavior before Dana handled it, Dale extended his arm to the monkey and it leapt right on and began grooming the hair on his arm very intently. Assured the monkey wouldn't bite, Dana reached out her arms to the monkey, and he jumped into them, curling up in them like an infant, sucking on her hand and thumb. Then the monkey noticed Dana's long hair, and leapt to the top of her head to begin grooming her. During one of our many sessions with the monkey, we encountered the hotel/monkey owner. Dale asked if we could buy the monkey from him - we were hoping to find it a better, more appropriate home - but the man wouldn't sell. He said he had paid $5 for it in the market and he didn't want to give it up. Dana was very disappointed as she had already imagined herself setting up a large monkey habitat in Laos, but Dale advised that it was more likely that she'd be arrested for animal trafficking and spend the rest of her life in a Laotian prison.

While on Don Kong, we rented antique chinese bikes and headed out to circle the island. There's a beautiful trail shaded by trees that runs along the waterfront in front of all the small villages and homes, and riding along the trail gave us a glimpse into the homes of lives of the island residents. When the trail stopped, we returned to the road where our bikes immediately began acting up. The chains fell off a dozen times and we were forced to stand in the beating sun trying to replace them. Several times, noticing our lack of bicycle-repairing skill, Laotian people stopped to help. Needless to say, what should have been an hour bike-ride home took 3 hours. The next day, we hired a motorized canoe with several other travelers to travel from Don Kong to the island of Don Kone.

Don Kone and Don Det are 2 tiny islands connected by an old railway bridge located downriver on the Mekong from Don Kong. They are lush and beatiful, barely cultivated, and have no electricity, plumbing, or infrastructure of any kind. One goes to Don Det to rent a bamboo hut alond the Mekond (for $1 per night) and hang out on the hammock on a porch overlooking the Mekong. It's a place to relax and be lazy, watching life on the Mekong drift by. Nights are spent eating by candlelight, drinking BeerLao and playing cards with other travlers. We dragged ourselves out of our hammock one day to take a canoe trip to see the famous river dolphins (spotted at quite a distance away) but otherwise just lounged in our hammocks. Don Det is definitely a place one can get used to, but being hungry Americans we couldn't bear another plate of fried rice, and after a few days we were ready to go.

From Don Det, we headed on an excruciatingly long bus ride to Savannahket, from where we planned to catch the bus along the Ho Chi Min trail to Vietnam.

Laos Pics! (click picture for full-sized version)

Laos (Tad Lo): Elephant-back exploration / A small village