Although this blog about my time in Laos, I had spent just shy of a week with my good friend, Karl, in Bangkok. “Where’s the blog?” you’re wondering. I decided not to write one. I’ve been to Bangkok twice and written about it twice and, quite frankly, the less people know about what you do in Bangkok, the better.
I left Karl and ventured north to a small town, Luang Prabang, on the banks of the Mekong Delta. I had never been to this Laos before and knew very little about this country. The extent of my knowledge was that it is a landlocked country surrounded by Myanmar, China, Thailand, and Vietnam. I suppose there was a high likelihood that you're going to be communist when they are your neighbours. They were then colonized by the French and then the Japanese. Laos declared that they were neutral in the US-Vietnam conflict, but this meant very little and became the most bombed country in history. Laos couldn’t catch a break.
Today, it’s still officially communist, but since the 1990s they’ve reestablished Buddhism and allowed tourists more freedom in the country. Luckily for Laos’ tourist board the hippy backpackers still prefer to travel to India and the cunty ones go to Thailand.
Peaceful Luang Prabang was the perfect break from raucous Bangkok. It has a heavy influence from the French which means the architecture of the town makes you think you’re in Europe, while the people are very rude and stink of garlic. No, obviously the Laotian people are very hospitable and I got to relax by the Mekong Delta drinking French red wine. Perfect.
After exploring the town, my first venture was to the Kuangsi Waterfall. The water I’d seen so far was pretty mucky river water, so a waterfall of brown water didn’t seem so appealing. However, upon arrival, I’d discovered one of the most idyllic places in Laos. It was a truly beautiful location filled with a fair few tourists, but what can you do?
I got in the chilly pool and tried to let my thoughts escape as I relaxed. Almost immediately I felt something biting my ankles. The size and pain of the bite made me immediately think I was in a pool of baby crocodiles. As keen readers of this blog will know, I’m not good with animals, let alone flesh-eating animals. I freaked out. As I kicked and writhed, the sea-serpents dispersed and I calmed down. I soon realised that the water pool was filled with those tiny fish that you see in malls that eat the dead skin off your feet. Eurgh! Why would anyone pay for that sensation?! I was most concerned that the fish would feast on my athlete’s foot and I’d have a massacre on my hands.
Later that afternoon I ‘hiked’ to the top of Phousi Hill. Hiked is a bit over the top, I mean walked up the steps to the top. It’s a nice viewpoint, with a temple along the way. I think there was a Buddhist monk field trip for aspiring young monks there on that day. I didn’t know much about Buddhist training, but they have 10 Precepts which they must abide.
If these are the rules Buddhist monks must abide, then I’m more out than a Brexiteer. I look at those rules and I think I should adopt a few to be a better person, things like honesty, and not putting myself above others. But, if I can’t watch football shows, have a beer, dress up like a drag queen and then lie all about it then what is the point to life?
It had been a great day. I drove into town, parked up my scooter and had planned to have dinner and head back to the hotel. One rather excellent thing about being colonised by the French is that now Laos has an array of cheap, delicious wine and I got a little carried away that evening. I thought I'd leave the bike in town, walk home and pick it up the following day.
I got talking to a couple at the next table who told me about a tourist scam in Luang Prabang, whereby the scooter rental shops lookout for their rented-out scooters and "steal" them back with the spare keys. When the tourists report them missing they are charged a hefty bill. I was now concerned about leaving the scooter in town overnight, so I thought I'd carefully ride it the short distance back to the hotel.
It just turns out I wasn't as careful as I thought. I came off on a corner and my wearisome body skidded along the tarmac for longer than anyone would normally enjoy. Two girls came running over to assist me, I picked myself up and started to apologise to them profusely like I'd caused them harm in some way. I guess my Britishness came out. The adrenaline was coursing through me, but I detected no broken bones and only some relatively minor scratches.
I picked up the bike and it was in better condition than me. I hopped back on and made it back to my hotel. I assessed the situation and went about cleaning myself up. As I was wearing flip-flops, my toes took a bit of the damage. I tried to cut off the severed skin, but it was tremendously painful so I asked the hotel receptionist to help me. She came up to my room with some scissors and ointment and went about hacking off the skin. That for me is 5-star service.
The next morning, there was more swelling and I'd developed a black eye. I obviously hit my head a lot harder than I first thought. Well, I didn't die, so I'll just mark this down as a life experience.
I had planned on going to an elephant sanctuary, where it was advertised that you could bathe the elephants, but to be honest, because of the scratches I was hardly planning to bathe myself that day. Luckily it was raining, so I was free to wallow in the comfort of my hotel, hiding in the shadows like Quasimodo.
I then had the difficult task of returning the scooter to the rental company. I covered most of my scratches on my arms, legs, and feet, but it was impossible not to notice them considering some were on my hands and face. The conversation went as follows:
Scooter Man: Good morning. Oh dear, what happened to your face?!
Me: Oh, don't worry. I slipped when I was exploring the waterfall.
Scooter Man: It didn't happen on the bike, did it?
Me: What? No. No, no, no. No way. Definitely not. Gosh, could you imagine? Nah. Nope. Nahhh. Never.
Scooter Man: Well, you just have to be careful at those falls.
I got my passport back and was gone in a shot. So, was it worth it? Well, the bike wasn't stolen and the wine was delicious, so yes.
I took a minibus to Vang Vieng, which is about halfway between Luang Prabang and the capital, Vientiane.
Vang Vieng was almost unknown until recent years. During the Vietnam war, the US built an airbase in the town. After Laos reopened its borders to tourists, Vang Vieng became a hub. It was famous for tubing down the Nong Sam River, whereby backpackers would take a rather large amount of drugs, get into tubes and drink booze all the way down the river. Unsurprisingly, many tourists died doing this. Who'd have thought?
The Laotian government put a stop to this behaviour, which suits me just fine. Reducing ways for me to die is welcomed.
Instead of the famous tubing, I found activities that kept my scratches from getting infected. I think the last thing my wounds need is to get into a murky river with loads of sexually infected youngsters.
I did very little in Vang Vieng. It's pretty much a hell hole of a place. A place full of awful backpackers, which has little to offer. It's main attractions are ziplining, hot air ballooning or the aforementioned tubing. I avoided these and went for a hike. I walked the 3 miles out of town and hiked up Pha Ngern. It was a 40-minute steep climb, and the last 10 minutes were the most treacherous. When I reached the top I was dripping with sweat. Sweat had penetrated every inch of my body soaking my wallet and even drenching my money. I took off my shirt at the top, wrung it out and tried to let it dry out a little, but the attempt was futile. So much for keeping my wounds dry.
It rained the entirety of the following day and that concluded my time in Vang Vieng. It's a great place for adrenaline-seeking, drug-taking backpacker, but that's not really my scene. The highlight of my time there was watching Arsenal beat Burnley 2-1 at Gary's Irish Pub.
I was warned that there wasn't much to do in the capital of Vientiane, and they weren't wrong. People often go there on visa runs from Thailand. If that's the purpose of your visit then it seems worth being there because otherwise there is shit all else to do. There was once the Lao People’s Army History Museum, which shed light on the atrocious bombing the country suffered between 1964-73. That museum is permanently closed now. There are plenty of temples, which bore the arse off me. So I ended up spending my time in Vientiane catching up on Match of the Day and watching Netflix shows. I couldn't wait to get out of Laos and back home.
Luang Prabang is worth a visit for a few days, but the rest of Laos isn't worth the effort, in my opinion.
People say Laos is similar to France. I guess if France had a nuclear disaster like Chernobyl then I would be able to see the likeness.
I left Karl and ventured north to a small town, Luang Prabang, on the banks of the Mekong Delta. I had never been to this Laos before and knew very little about this country. The extent of my knowledge was that it is a landlocked country surrounded by Myanmar, China, Thailand, and Vietnam. I suppose there was a high likelihood that you're going to be communist when they are your neighbours. They were then colonized by the French and then the Japanese. Laos declared that they were neutral in the US-Vietnam conflict, but this meant very little and became the most bombed country in history. Laos couldn’t catch a break.
Today, it’s still officially communist, but since the 1990s they’ve reestablished Buddhism and allowed tourists more freedom in the country. Luckily for Laos’ tourist board the hippy backpackers still prefer to travel to India and the cunty ones go to Thailand.
Peaceful Luang Prabang was the perfect break from raucous Bangkok. It has a heavy influence from the French which means the architecture of the town makes you think you’re in Europe, while the people are very rude and stink of garlic. No, obviously the Laotian people are very hospitable and I got to relax by the Mekong Delta drinking French red wine. Perfect.
After exploring the town, my first venture was to the Kuangsi Waterfall. The water I’d seen so far was pretty mucky river water, so a waterfall of brown water didn’t seem so appealing. However, upon arrival, I’d discovered one of the most idyllic places in Laos. It was a truly beautiful location filled with a fair few tourists, but what can you do?
I got in the chilly pool and tried to let my thoughts escape as I relaxed. Almost immediately I felt something biting my ankles. The size and pain of the bite made me immediately think I was in a pool of baby crocodiles. As keen readers of this blog will know, I’m not good with animals, let alone flesh-eating animals. I freaked out. As I kicked and writhed, the sea-serpents dispersed and I calmed down. I soon realised that the water pool was filled with those tiny fish that you see in malls that eat the dead skin off your feet. Eurgh! Why would anyone pay for that sensation?! I was most concerned that the fish would feast on my athlete’s foot and I’d have a massacre on my hands.
Later that afternoon I ‘hiked’ to the top of Phousi Hill. Hiked is a bit over the top, I mean walked up the steps to the top. It’s a nice viewpoint, with a temple along the way. I think there was a Buddhist monk field trip for aspiring young monks there on that day. I didn’t know much about Buddhist training, but they have 10 Precepts which they must abide.
- I will refrain from harming the life of others.
- I will refrain from stealing the property of others.
- I will refrain from sexual practices.
- I will refrain from lying.
- I will refrain from intoxicating drinks and drugs which lead to carelessness.
- I will refrain from food between noon and dawn.
- I will refrain from dancing, singing, listening to music, and watching shows.
- I will refrain from using perfumes, cosmetics, and also from ornaments (and anything that bears relation to seduction).
- I will refrain from installing myself in places located on a higher level than the noble beings.
- I will refrain from accepting or using gold or silver (metal and notes).
If these are the rules Buddhist monks must abide, then I’m more out than a Brexiteer. I look at those rules and I think I should adopt a few to be a better person, things like honesty, and not putting myself above others. But, if I can’t watch football shows, have a beer, dress up like a drag queen and then lie all about it then what is the point to life?
It had been a great day. I drove into town, parked up my scooter and had planned to have dinner and head back to the hotel. One rather excellent thing about being colonised by the French is that now Laos has an array of cheap, delicious wine and I got a little carried away that evening. I thought I'd leave the bike in town, walk home and pick it up the following day.
I got talking to a couple at the next table who told me about a tourist scam in Luang Prabang, whereby the scooter rental shops lookout for their rented-out scooters and "steal" them back with the spare keys. When the tourists report them missing they are charged a hefty bill. I was now concerned about leaving the scooter in town overnight, so I thought I'd carefully ride it the short distance back to the hotel.
It just turns out I wasn't as careful as I thought. I came off on a corner and my wearisome body skidded along the tarmac for longer than anyone would normally enjoy. Two girls came running over to assist me, I picked myself up and started to apologise to them profusely like I'd caused them harm in some way. I guess my Britishness came out. The adrenaline was coursing through me, but I detected no broken bones and only some relatively minor scratches.
I picked up the bike and it was in better condition than me. I hopped back on and made it back to my hotel. I assessed the situation and went about cleaning myself up. As I was wearing flip-flops, my toes took a bit of the damage. I tried to cut off the severed skin, but it was tremendously painful so I asked the hotel receptionist to help me. She came up to my room with some scissors and ointment and went about hacking off the skin. That for me is 5-star service.
The next morning, there was more swelling and I'd developed a black eye. I obviously hit my head a lot harder than I first thought. Well, I didn't die, so I'll just mark this down as a life experience.
I had planned on going to an elephant sanctuary, where it was advertised that you could bathe the elephants, but to be honest, because of the scratches I was hardly planning to bathe myself that day. Luckily it was raining, so I was free to wallow in the comfort of my hotel, hiding in the shadows like Quasimodo.
I then had the difficult task of returning the scooter to the rental company. I covered most of my scratches on my arms, legs, and feet, but it was impossible not to notice them considering some were on my hands and face. The conversation went as follows:
Scooter Man: Good morning. Oh dear, what happened to your face?!
Me: Oh, don't worry. I slipped when I was exploring the waterfall.
Scooter Man: It didn't happen on the bike, did it?
Me: What? No. No, no, no. No way. Definitely not. Gosh, could you imagine? Nah. Nope. Nahhh. Never.
Scooter Man: Well, you just have to be careful at those falls.
I got my passport back and was gone in a shot. So, was it worth it? Well, the bike wasn't stolen and the wine was delicious, so yes.
I took a minibus to Vang Vieng, which is about halfway between Luang Prabang and the capital, Vientiane.
Vang Vieng was almost unknown until recent years. During the Vietnam war, the US built an airbase in the town. After Laos reopened its borders to tourists, Vang Vieng became a hub. It was famous for tubing down the Nong Sam River, whereby backpackers would take a rather large amount of drugs, get into tubes and drink booze all the way down the river. Unsurprisingly, many tourists died doing this. Who'd have thought?
The Laotian government put a stop to this behaviour, which suits me just fine. Reducing ways for me to die is welcomed.
Instead of the famous tubing, I found activities that kept my scratches from getting infected. I think the last thing my wounds need is to get into a murky river with loads of sexually infected youngsters.
I did very little in Vang Vieng. It's pretty much a hell hole of a place. A place full of awful backpackers, which has little to offer. It's main attractions are ziplining, hot air ballooning or the aforementioned tubing. I avoided these and went for a hike. I walked the 3 miles out of town and hiked up Pha Ngern. It was a 40-minute steep climb, and the last 10 minutes were the most treacherous. When I reached the top I was dripping with sweat. Sweat had penetrated every inch of my body soaking my wallet and even drenching my money. I took off my shirt at the top, wrung it out and tried to let it dry out a little, but the attempt was futile. So much for keeping my wounds dry.
It rained the entirety of the following day and that concluded my time in Vang Vieng. It's a great place for adrenaline-seeking, drug-taking backpacker, but that's not really my scene. The highlight of my time there was watching Arsenal beat Burnley 2-1 at Gary's Irish Pub.
I was warned that there wasn't much to do in the capital of Vientiane, and they weren't wrong. People often go there on visa runs from Thailand. If that's the purpose of your visit then it seems worth being there because otherwise there is shit all else to do. There was once the Lao People’s Army History Museum, which shed light on the atrocious bombing the country suffered between 1964-73. That museum is permanently closed now. There are plenty of temples, which bore the arse off me. So I ended up spending my time in Vientiane catching up on Match of the Day and watching Netflix shows. I couldn't wait to get out of Laos and back home.
Luang Prabang is worth a visit for a few days, but the rest of Laos isn't worth the effort, in my opinion.
People say Laos is similar to France. I guess if France had a nuclear disaster like Chernobyl then I would be able to see the likeness.
