We were rudely awoken at 6am to the annoying sounds of my phone’s alarm, bleary eyed, only to found out that it was almost bright outside. We rushed out minutes later to an empty street; failed to spot any monks in their orange robes anywhere in sight. Confused, we quickly hailed a tuktuk which happened to be passing by, but to our dismay the driver couldn’t understand any English. I was at my wits end as streaks of morning lights appeared on the gloomy sky, and a glimpsed at my watch I feared that it was over. In my hopeless attempts to explain to the driver my intended destination, I cupped my left hand whilst all fingers of my right joined together like the Italian’s ma che cazzo; only that it moved towards my other palm – my lame tries at the act of benefaction. Luckily the driver understood it somehow, and in no time we sped off through the quiet streets towards Sakkarine Road.

Tak Bat, as the locals called it, was the reason of this untimely outing. It is one of the most vivid images of Laos, an almsgiving ritual which happens every early morning in Luang Prabang. Although similar events takes place in other Buddhist countries, Luang Prabang is the place where it is done in larger scale over the scenic setting – where hundreds of monks swathed in their saffron robes making their way from the town’s many wats past those faithful devotees, collecting alms for their own daily sustenance, and in return helping those believers earned their religious merits and spiritual redemptions.

When we arrived, the street was already flooded with tourists with camera in hand, ready to pounce at the sight of the monks. Apparently we just arrived in time. I quickly jumped off the tuktuk; almost running – leaving DH to settle with the fare and joined the crowd. Locals already lined the street; kneeled on a mat with their shoes removed, while both hands clasped together at their chest in a submissive form. A bamboo basket of staple Lao sticky rice, banana, biscuits and sweets were laid neatly in front of them. At the end of the street a parade of orange drew closer, barefooted and chanting in silence.

As the procession filed past, the almsgivers bowed their heads, reached their baskets and scooped a handful of sticky rice before dropping it into the monks’ alms bowl, and the monks slid back the lid in a very quick, rhythmic fashion. All was done in a splash seconds, one devotee after another, and yet not a single word was uttered. Excited tourists clamoured over each other, snapping photos and firing flashes, totally ignorant of the religious ethics.  I on the other hand never thought that watching those recurring acts of opening and closing of the lids could be so entertaining, as it was flawlessly executed and almost in-sync, while the anticipation for a single drop built up.

But, no. Well, they’ve been practicing almost every day, haven’t they?  (- _ ^)

Feeling Good

To be frank, my first insight guide to Laos was from a movie.

A Laotian romantic movie. About a young Thai photographer travelling to Laos for an article ended up finding his root and falling for his sweet Laotian tour guide. How rare is that? Honestly I’m not so much into love movies, but somehow I was hooked for two hours merely for the beautiful background sceneries of the film locations. It was as much as a tourist commercial as it is about love story, when love blossomed between the two as they travelled from Southern Laos to Luang Prabang.

Perhaps Luang Prabang is no match to the world’s most romantic city of Paris, and unable to surpass the exotic Bali. But nonetheless I found Luang Prabang has its own romantic charms that I immediately fell in love with, although I was just arrived from the picture-perfect Vang Vieng with severe diarrhoea and all. Anyway that’s just my personal opinion. I didn’t say it was perfect. But it was easy to say that I like it (well, I like many things). Perhaps it was the peacefulness that mesmerized me. Perhaps it was that languorous spell that made time seemed non-existence and the pleasant feeling that you are actually living in the moment. Perhaps it was the baguettes and those French vibes that add to the allure. Or perhaps, it was the tiresome journey from Vang Vieng that I found comfort at the thought that I finally arrived at my destination, the highlight of my short trip to Laos.

For the first time I saw Phousi Hill and the gilded stupa of Wat Chom Si glimmering under the setting sun as the tuk tuk approached our guesthouse in Phommattat Road. We quickly dumped our bags and went out again. It was time to look for dinner. Walking past Wat Visoun we encountered a few eateries but I had no appetite for another Indian vegetarian cuisine. Spicy foods would definitely add troubles to my already-upset stomach. But DH was hungry for rice. Typical Malays.  So I just watched him eat. I hadn’t had anything for a day and was hungry like hell but unable to swallow a thing. Even the smell of curry that I usually craved back at home was suddenly intolerable.

Luang Prabang has nothing much to offer at night. On our part we had enough sleeping out of our long drive from Vang Vieng that we decided to check out the night market which I heard the only happening place in town. Soon when DH settled with his dinner we continued our walk to Sisavangvong Road in search for the night market.

We strolled casually along the empty streets trying to get a sense of the place. Once in a while the silence was broken by the revving sounds of motorbikes that zoomed past us, until it fades away in the dark. All shops were already closed for the day, saved for a local eatery one or two.  And that was all. It was so quiet that I started to doubt whether they even have night market that night. We continued walking nonetheless and were finally there. But it was nothing like what I imagined it to be. There was no sound of vendors calling for customers. No noise from the people selling and haggling. The vendors will smile and say hello, and you are free to do the looking. No pressure of buying. The only thing we could hear was the buzzing sounds of the lamp generators and our own footsteps.

The night market was made up by just two rows of make shift tents. Colourful trinkets and crafts were neatly sprawled on canvases that lined the street. Most of them were handmade. I was immediately attracted to the adorable cloth book on animals, lovely purses and pins, nicely hand sewn blankets depicting Laotian daily life and all other girlish things.  The dim lights emanating from the hanging bulb were diffused by the colour of the red tent, giving a warm, dreamy kind of effect – luring the customers; mostly tourists – like a photophore of the deep sea anglerfish. And I one of them:   just happy to see it.

 The night Market at Sisavangvong Road

All the colorful and cute things!

Tucked away in an alley, we arrived at a totally different world. Here is where you would find the locals and all the commotions that was previously lacking. This is the real night market. Almost everything for sale was food and daily consumptions. No cute souvenirs. Vegetables, fruits and spices were arranged side-by-side along the cramped walkway. Fussy customers were sniffing and picking their goods for bargain. At one corner a long table festooned with dizzying arrays of local cuisines served our eyes, colourful and glistening under the incandescent lights. Foreigners and locals alike thronged the makeshift tables which brimmed with food as cheap as a dollar. For the first time since yesterday I was hungry. But none that I could eat. Too bad. I ended up with a fruit smoothie instead, and got totally overwhelmed by it.  I’m proud to say that I survived Luang Prabang with only fruit juice (and ‘Lao style’ tuna sandwich).

The ‘hidden’ night market

The next day we climbed all the way up the Phousi Hill on a well-paved staircase, and enjoy the view of the town from the summit. A little exercise and breathe of fresh air was all that I need. We could clearly see the Nam Khan river snaking its way into the far behind mountains while brick red roofs of houses down below popped out in between lush greeneries. On the other side Mekong River flows calmly as it has been since the beginning of time. All was peace and calm.

The rest of the morning we made way around the old town, exploring every nook and cranny. The cozy weather of mid-November was kinda perfect for our jaunt, not too hot and not to cold. Occasionally we bumped into monks in their distinctive saffron robes and paper parasols, locals with their casual glance and the unspoken Sabaidee, pretty Laotian girls in their chic Sinh skirts, or tourists on bicycles; while other time saw us marvelling over the old French colonial architectures – some of them have been restyled into upscale hotels and charming restaurants, or otherwise inspecting the intricate reliefs that adorn the roofs and the walls of the many wats. At times when we were out of ideas we simply enjoyed a cup of fine brewed Lao coffee from the side walk café and filled up our time observing the passers-by.

Luang Prabang from Phousi Hill and the  Nam Khan River

The calm River of Mekong

 Haw Phang Ba and the Royal Palace

Caged birds to be released at the summit of Phousi Hill.  Laotians believe that by setting a bird free you will have better luck and happiness in future.

A young monk with his book

The French Colonial Architecture. The fusion of western and traditional Laotian architectures in a well-preserved townscape environment entitled this little, sleepy town a rank in the UNESCO World Heritage Site list.

A monk walking out from a monastery in the compound of Wat Visoun

Hanging in wind

Cleaning time

 Quiet street of a neat town

A lady with her daily chores

 Multi-tiered roof

 Reliefs from the Wats

 Star shaped paper lantern

 Hanging out for a cup of coffee while waiting for the rain

Old carvings

Later in the afternoon we joined the day trippers to the Kuang Si; a dip in its cascading emerald pools was the exact remedy I needed to cure my lethargy. The river flows into the nearby village, which I became to envy – I mean waking up to pristine, turquoise-blue water running endlessly behind your house every day! We returned contented to the friendly Luang Prabang in the evening – as the sun and its sexy crimson rays spilling upon those elegant, multi-tiered pointed roofs, and the soft glow of the colourful star-shape paper lanterns added the appeal to the amicably romantic town.

 The Emerald pool of Tat Kuang Si

Simply refreshing 

The last thing I know I was smiling and laughing on our short excursion to the Blue Lagoon, and the next thing was, I was a sick, sick dog cat (well, I rather called myself a cat than a dog).

We were about to depart from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang when I sensed something was amiss. As I was packing my stuff I felt a slight light-headedness, followed by a strong urge to vomit. I ran for toilet and emptied the content of my stomach straight into the white porcelain (apologize readers, I know it’s gross). But it didn’t get better. Sudden pangs of abdominal pain crept in and I rushed to the toilet again for another spillage before limping back to bed, exhausted. This went on for several times, that by the time we boarded the minivan to Luang Prabang I almost drained every fluid in me and I was flaccid like some wilted, dry veggie.

With the sickness plaguing me, I dreaded the long journey to Luang Prabang. Will I survive the 6-hour drive of a bumpy, hairpin road when I couldn’t even stand straight and not puke? What if I need to use the toilet, which I’d been frequented like every 5 minutes now and it was totally beyond my control? With trepidation of humiliating myself, I gulped in the last anti-diarrhoea tablet (which fortunately I always take with me during travel) with some Gatorade before jumping into the minivan. The seat by the window was unoccupied and it was a blessing. At least I got a spot to lean and sleep throughout the journey, and the window was accessible for fresh air should I feel dizzy or whenever there’s need to throw up.

The journey to Luang Prabang was not so much of a fun ride; the road bumps, twists and turns as the bus steered the mountain slopes – churning the stomach and reeling of head. It was such a boring ride that our driver amused himself by running into every pothole he could spot on like some kiddo’s whack-a-mole game. Five points if you could hit it right into a cavity; ten if you do it while speeding! Luckily I didn’t embarrass myself (like vomiting in front of others or crapping in my pants) despite the numerous jerking, braking and cornering – partly because I was asleep most of the time (the side effects of the medication, thank god) which was a shame since the landscape of northern Laos is astonishingly beautiful, and partly because we stopped for toilet breaks about a dozen times. And it had become my routine to make a run for it every time we stopped.

The serene landscape of northern Laos.

The road where we came from.

The long, winding road from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang, cutting through Laos’ mountain range – what a lonely journey!

I felt like I’d slept for hours since our last stop when DH woke me up for another break, and this time it was by a beautiful valley of greens. The vista was superb; rugged mountains stretched as far as the eyes could see, teeming with cute and colourful little flowers wriggling in the breeze. The view cheered me up and it worth all the troubles. It was so beautiful and serene that I felt better by just breathing its fresh air, but the nasty growl in my stomach reminded me for another toilet trip. And what a surprise it had for me. Who could expect a toilet with a view!

Having been brought up in an environment that emphasizes modesty and good manners I was a bit reserved in an open toilet concept, although I was pretty sure no one could see me doing my business in such a remote place. But the twisting pain in my stomach was getting worse by the minute that I was left without a choice. And the pretty view was undeniably stimulating.

So there I was – on my throne, smiling.

Well, all the breath-taking views of the valley as per the photos above were taken from here – while I was doing my business.

NOT!!!  (^_^)

Long before I made my trip to Laos I had heard or read so many unpleasant things about Vang Vieng – from hedonistic river raves and backpackers behaving badly to the depressing tragedies surrounding it. Floating in an over commercialized, decrepit tractor-tyre inner tube down the Nam Song (Song River) wasn’t so appealing to me either, and apart from being a sleepy, small town on the long way to Luang Prabang I immediately concluded that Vang Vieng must be pretty dull. Visiting Phonsavan and its mysterious Plain of Jars was more on our thoughts back then. However we later learned that accommodating both Luang Prabang and Phonsavan in our tight schedule was rather difficult if not impossible, and since skipping Luang Prabang when you are in Laos sounds totally pointless, we had to pick up the ball and run with it. That’s how Vang Vieng ended up   in our itinerary, simply another place to fit into our short trip. Or so we thought.

 The countryside on our way to Vang Vieng

There was nothing much to say about the 5 hours bus ride from Vientiane to Vang Vieng, apart that we were cruising along a lonely road bypassing some green mountains and nondescript villages (but anyway lovely). By the time we arrived in Vang Vieng, things were a little sedate and we were a bit confused. There was no one around at the terminal except our bus troop, the bus operator and a lone songthaew (local pick-up taxi), which we quickly boarded, dreading to be left out alone in ghost town. I was biting hard my lips and was beginning to regret our decision of ever coming to Vang Vieng. We should have headed straight to Luang Prabang instead, I thought. Two minutes later we arrived at a cosy little town with guesthouses, restaurants and bars lining up the street (we could have walked!). It turned out that the increase in tourist fatalities had forced the government to shut down many of the river bars; and the once debauchery party town, Vang Vieng has returned to its unobtrusive self again.

The small town of Vang Vieng.

It was a short walk from where we were dropped off to the guesthouse of our choice – The Popular View Guesthouse, which we had decided prior to our trip to Laos. At 100,000 Kips per night it was not the cheapest lodging in Vang Vieng, but the name live up to the expectation. The room was clean and spacious, with two super-single beds combined as one, a flat screen tv, air-condition and an en-suite bathroom with hot water we could say it was a bargain. But what enticing me the most was the stunning view of the Nam Song and the svelte green landscapes that could be seen from the room!

Our spacious room in Vang Vieng, facing the beautiful Nam Song and the karst mountains. Contrary to what we read or heard, Vang Vieng was actually so beautiful and serene that we immediately fell in love with, and almost ditched the plan of ever going to Luang Prabang if not for our better sense of judgment.

The serene Nam Song and the green landscape viewed from our room’s veranda.

Since we were only for a very short time in Vang Vieng, we quickly settled our personal matters and went out again. We rented a scooter from the operator next door at 40,000 Kips and had our lunch at the nearby halal eatery. We should have known well about Laos from our inaugural introductions to their tardiness, and yet we wondered why our plain fried rice arrived only an hour later, with only us as its patrons. Nevertheless we groped our late lunch quickly as soon as they arrived, and in no time found ourselves cruising along the town’s empty streets.

Our first lunch in Laos; a plain fried rice at 20,000Kips per plate – what a bomb!

Equipped only with a rough hand-drawn map we got from the hotel and the directions given by the guy that manned the scooter rental shop, we headed out for our late jaunt around town. We decided to make our way to the Blue Lagoon which we read is interesting to explore (and no, they are not the one featured in the thought-provoking movie of a same name stars by Brooke Shields and Christopher Atkins).

From the main street we detoured into a small road, and were asked to pay some small fee upon crossing a ramshackle wooden bridge that led us across the Nam Song to a dirt road leading nowhere. We rode off bluntly from thereon, relying solely on our hunches and from asking locals around. The map we got was useless past the bridge and there was no sign what so ever indicating the way to the lagoon. 

Bridge with toll in Vang Vieng

The view of Vang Vieng from the bridge. If you are thick in the pocket you could try the hot air balloon.

Ironically, Laos is the most heavily bombarded country during the Vietnam War; a conflict which they had no part into, and suffered considerable amount of collateral damage.  As a result, a sizeable part of Laos is still under the monitoring of the country’s Unexploded Ordinance, known as UXO or landmines. Some old disarmed bombs now become villages landmark.

Unpaved road to the Blue Lagoon

As the day was getting late we were becoming more and more desperate (first, we only have a day to explore as we will be going to Luang Prabang the next day; second, because we were somehow in a middle of nowhere, no lamp post to where we heading and it’s going to be dark soon). We were cursing ourselves for having lunch (which unfortunately taken most of our precious time) but had to shamefully admit that we were somewhat starving back then. Further and further we went in with no conviction of where we were going, but somehow relieved upon seeing some bare-chested tourists in swim shorts coming from opposite direction.

All-in-all we could say that we enjoyed our long lost journey to the lagoon, amused by the typical rural life we seen along the way – dominated by green paddy fields that stretch across the land and the jagged karst hills. Silhouetted under the sinking sun we saw farmers tended to their fields, and occasionally we bumped into smiling villagers in their humble wooden houses, giggling kids with dirt on their faces, dogs barking at our sight and chasing us  while the chickens clucking and scraping the earth. Not to mention there were times we had to steer away from those slow moving herds of cattle. Intermittently I had to ask DH to stop the bike and allowing me taking photos of the happy scenery.

Cheerful Laotian kids greeting ‘Sabaidee’ to every passing travelers.

We met a lot of kids on the way to the lagoon, which smiles eagerly at the sight of foreigners and scream “Sabaidee!” (Hello) in which we replied the same. They were so cute and bubbly, and their innocent grins and naïve hello made it straight into our hearts. “Sabaidee” could be the only Lao word we knew, but the exchange of smiles and friendly gestures were more than what we needed.

 Paddy fields and green landscapes accompanying us all the way to the lagoon.

 A typical rural life in Vang Vieng.

We finally made it to the lagoon an hour later, of what mentioned as a 20 minutes journey from the town centre (thank god we didn’t take the bicycle!). Well who of us haven’t been led on a merry chase by the locals or fallacious maps, when it actually took three times as long to arrive to somewhere?

Blue Lagoon, at last!

As we rode closer to the lagoon, we saw the water was indeed blue from the minerals, with overhanging tree branches and a rope swings. It was a gorgeous sight. We parked our motorbike beside the lagoon and crossed the wooden bridge to the other side, and immediately dipped our sore feet into the water. It was cold and refreshing, but I didn’t dare to go further as it looks very deep that we couldn’t see the bottom, but spotted a few fish nonetheless. The water seemed to flow down from the nearby mountain where the Phu Kham cave is, but unfortunately we have no time to look for it. 

The water from the lagoon flows into a small stream, with small gazebo-style huts lining the banks.

There was no one in sight when we arrived as it was almost nightfall, and realizing that we had to return back to town before it gets too dark, we made it quick before jumping back onto the motorbike (too bad!).

We tried to ride as fast as we could, sensing that the sun was going down faster than we expected. But the pockmarked road and ruts made it impossible to run more than the old scooter could pull off. It was already pitch black and quiet half-way of our journey back to the town, and the weak beam of our motorbike’s headlamp not very much of a help either. But the worst was yet to come. Suddenly the motor seemed to lose power and slowing down, and after a few meter it abruptly came to a total halt. Dead. And what a perfect place it chose to fail us!

We were somehow in a stretch where there was no home or people in sight, and the last village we had passed was about a few kilometers away. And what good can it do to us, knowing that little these villagers could do to help us anyway. With that apprehension we accepted the harrowing fact – that we were now stranded in the dark and in the middle of nowhere.

DH managed to resuscitate the motorbike after several tries, but after running life for a few seconds it was dead again. We suspected it must be something to do with the headlamp’s wiring, as the problem begun only when we started using it. So we decided to turn off the lights and kick-started the motorbike again, and to our reliefs it came to life. We rode back in the dark to the town with flashlight apps from my mobile phone and with watchful eyes, in case we might miss a turn. Not later we were joined by a local on his bike, that upon seeing our trouble he was so kind to ride slowly behind us and lit up the way. We finally made it to town safe and sound, and could not thank our Good Samaritan enough. The beauty of Vang Vieng and the kindness of its people had definitely won our hearts.

It was already 9.00pm when we reached  Vang Vieng  town

Restaurants with futons and endless Friends or How I Met Your Mother reruns 

I was still shaking from our ‘little misadventure’ and although DH managed to keep his cool, I knew that deep inside he was anxious too, and both of us seemed to lose our appetite for dinner. The first thing we did when we reached town was calling our kids back at home and that somewhat cheered us a bit. There was nothing much to do in Vang Vieng at night;  most of the tourists spend their time lay on futons watching reruns of “Friends” and “How I Met Your Mother” over some booze. Us on the other hand, tried the cheap Lao traditional massage at a parlor nearby our guesthouse and it was great!

Morning in Vang Vieng

I woke up to a chilly morning the next day, with intention of capturing the sunrise but too bad the sun was nowhere in sight *sigh…*. It was not a perfect morning, but it was beautiful nonetheless that I was compelled for a morning walk, but alas too lazy to don proper attire. DH was still asleep and I didn’t want to trouble him searching for me when he wakes up, so I just sat quietly at the veranda enjoying the  dawn of our new day in Laos.  Cute little houses perched on the banks of the Nam Song that flows softly into the quiet valley, while jagged limestone mountains shrouded in mist  jutting out to the overcast sky made the view almost ethereal. I breathed its fresh air and waited until the sky lighted up to the ca-hooting cries of roosters, and smiled at yesterday’s hilarious incident. Although it was too short, we definitely had such a fantastic time in Vang Vieng. And we could gladly say it has nothing to do with tubing. 

Saw a fisherman casting his net 

Beautiful isn’t it?

We were introduced to Laos laidback atmosphere almost instantenously as we stepped into the remarkably quiet Wattay International Airport.  And it became equally strange as nobody approach us when we walked out to the lobby looking for transport to the city.

Yes, we were being totally ignored. But not in a bad way. Laos general approach to life and its calm ambience was so intoxicating that  we yielded to its amazing charm and had ourselves loosen up. And this was how we first experienced Laotian’s time indifference.

Upon exiting the airport we walked to the main street in hope of finding a tuktuk to the town centre, and at the same time contemplating whether or not we should hire a taxi since the street was extremely quiet and no tuktuk could be spotted anywhere. Just about the right timing, we saw one heading in our direction. The tuktuk was with passengers, and eventually making its way to the airport.  Seeing us with backpacks and all the driver gestured us to wait for him. It was a long wait – both of us with our heavy load standing at what seemingly empty roadside and started to feel like idiots. Is he (the driver) coming back to pick us up? We were not sure. After seemed like forever we decided to look for another tuktuk, and as we were about to make our moves, the tuk tuk driver appeared with a big smile on his face that reads – “there’s no need to worry. We have all the time in the world”.

“The time to relax is when you don’t have time for it”  -  Sydney J. Harris

Again the same thing happened when were about to board the bus to Vang Vieng. We were supposed to be picked up from the bus agency (where we bought our tickets) to the bus station, and based on the time stamp the bus will be leaving anytime soon. But the pickup driver was nowhere to be seen, and when he finally arrived, he walked casually towards us, sat on one of the bench at the agency and lighted up his cigarette. Our bus supposed to be leaving in 5 minutes time and there he was, puffing his cig and not giving a monkey’s about us. He smiled when we raised our concerns to him, took all his own sweet time to finish his smoking before finally saying to us, “Let’s go!”. And guess what, the bus was still there even though we were like 10 minutes late. It only departed half an hour later although all the passengers were already on board. Then and there we learned that tardiness is really the ‘in’ thing in Laos.

Even the cats know how to relax in Vientiane.

I gave myself a stretch up, a morning yawning.. La di da di da…

Admiring the sunset and the lazy beauty of Mekong river.

Laos could also be the most forgotten country in Southeast Asia, next to Myanmar. Though the latter is due more to its repressive military junta and civil unrest. But Laos is forgotten for simply being itself  – a country where everything is so relaxed and easy going that not much could be heard about it. Simply ask yourself how many times that you ever read about Laos in the news.

So now you know what to do if you are in Laos.

Just sit back and relax cause Laos, or officially Lao P.D.R (Lao People’s Democratic Republic) is actually Lao, Please Don’t Rush.

P/S: We made the trip almost a year ago and were only able to finish the first part of the story. Apparently our embracing of the slow-pace life of the Lao has become a little bit too much.