LAOS

We were introduced to rural Laos on our way to the capital, Vientiane, passing small villages down dusty roads as we weaved our way through the mountains, making slow, but pleasant, progress. At a stop off along the way, I decided to stroll down to the riverside, where Ben pointed out to me that the boats that littered the river were formed of huge hollowed-out bombs. I found it somewhat poetic that the people of Laos, having had more bombs dropped on them during their and Vietnam's civil wars (both of which the US were heavily involved in) than fell on Europe in the whole of WW2, should remain as positive as ever, their pragmatism defying mindless military might. Vientiane was a relatively small city, lacking any imposing skyscrapers or modern urban architecture, a humble capital for a country of few pretensions. After arriving in the afternoon, we relaxed for a while before heading out for dinner. We ended up at a simple riverside place, enjoying a view over the Thai border which lay just over the river a stone's throw away. The evening then took us to a local bar, where we had a few drinks and enjoyed our first night out in Laos, celebrating the twins' birthdays when midnight struck, drinks clunking as the night slowly wore down. After just about catching our included breakfast the next morning, we embarked on a tour of some of the city's sites, visiting the Presidential Palace, an impressive stupa and a Buddhist temple, before heading to an Arc de Triomphe style structure which, when climbed, offered great views over the city. Whilst the others visited Vientiane's Buddha Park, James and myself decided to try and contact our respective banks as both our cards had been blocked, a feat which, by evening, had ended in success. Whilst separated from the rest of the group we grabbed some lunch and enjoyed some coconut milk which, after drinking, left us feeling strangely revived and energetic. The evening started at a nice restaurant, celebrating Sarah and Suzie's birthdays, an event which involved an impressive cake and the presentation of a couple of group-signed t-shirts to the birthday girls. After a couple of hours, we moved on to the same bar that we had visited the night before, enjoying a few rounds before heading back to the hotel and playing drinking games into the early hours.

Our next destination was Vang Vieng, the location of the infamous 'tubing', a riotous event which involves floating down the river on tubes, drinking at the countless bars on the banks and much rope swinging - a dangerous mix, I know. We arrived at around lunch time and promptly got some food, enjoying the tasty Laotian baguettes which originated from the French colonial influence, before meeting the group in late afternoon and heading to the Bamboo Bar, where we lay on hammocks and enjoyed a Beer Lao whilst the sun set over the mountains above, pink sunlight shimmering off the river below. With the evening in full swing, we then headed to the Rock Bar, where we had another drink and a free whiskey and coke before grabbing a quick meal on the town's main street which was littered with countless restaurants exhibiting such TV shows as 'Friends' and 'Family Guy' - a real tourist-friendly environment. It was here that we bumped into Clemmie again, stopping to chat for a while and make arrangements for the next couple of days. In need of a good night's sleep, a few of us headed back to the hotel whilst the others stayed out for a couple more hours, lapping up Vang Vieng's energy and party atmosphere. The next day proved to be an action-packed one, the group setting off for a caving and kayaking trip in the morning, arriving at a local village some way down the river shortly afterwards. After making our way over a small makeshift bridge and through the village centre, our guide took us to a local cave, wherein lay a large statue of the Buddha and a curious naturally formed rock in the shape of an elephant. After a while, we headed over to the mouth of a cave almost completely submerged in water where we were to begin the caving. As young village children played on the riverbank, we put on our headlamps and jumped in our inflatable tubes, pulling ourselves into the cave by way of a rope that traced the route inside. It was a really fiun experience, the group slowly making their way into the cave's depths, occasionally getting off the tubes and walking around when the water ran dry, eventually forming a large circle which drifted through the larger sections. By the time we reemerged a lunch had been prepared for us, the group making quick work of it before jumping back on the bus and heading down to the kayaking departure point.

Our experience kayaking down the river at Vang Vieng was very different to the lake at Pokhara, the scenery constantly changing as we made our way downstream, flat rice fields giving way to steep mountain faces and small villages. It reminded me of our white water rafting in Nepal in the way that it introduced us to many aspects of village life, farmers and fisherman working by the banks as we paddled past. The kayaking itself wasn't too strenuous, the river giving us a steady momentum that required relatively little energy to maintain, so we found ourselves relaxing a lot of the time, basking in the sunshine, enjoying the sights and sounds of the river as it pulled us gently downstream. I say gently - we did, in fact, capsize at one point, a source of much hilarity at the time, as well as getting stuck in the shallows, our boat at one point mounted by another that came straight at us as we sat sideways across the river. As the afternoon wore on, we entered the 'tubing zone', a moment punctuated by the introduction of heavy dance music, noisy party-goers, screams from Clemmie at a riverside bar and the sight of people swinging from 10/15 metre rope swings. Needless to say, our scene of tranquility was broken, but we welcomed the party, our first taste of tubing a delicious one. We stopped off for maybe an hour or so and grabbed a drink before trying the rope swings out for ourselves. I decided, on my first go, to let go of the swing at the highest possible point, meaning that I fell at least 10 metres - great fun, although I have to admit I was pretty apprehensive as I clambered up onto the platform, staring giddily at the water all that way down below. My fears weren't, ofcourse, helped by the fact that a tourist had died at the site only a week before (a freak accident, apparently). Once we had all had a quick drink, dance and swing, we got back in our kayaks and paddled our way back downstream, the bars thinning out as we moved on until once again we were enjoying the calm serenity of rural Laos, fisherman collecting their nets as we finally pulled up at Vang Vieng, the sun setting in the distance. After having dinner, we headed down to the Bucket and Rock Bars to collect our promotional free drinks, spending a couple of hours enjoying the atmosphere as the party heated up, eventually deciding to get to bed at a reasonable hour in order to conserve our energy for tubing the next day.

Whilst the rest of the group started tubing pretty early, I met up with Clemmie in town, grabbing a quick lunch before heading a few kilometres down the river where we were to begin. The day started with heavy rain which created mud on the banks, giving way to extreme mud fights which we participated in for a while. After an hour or two, I left Clemmie to join the others, bobbing down the river until I spotted them at a nearby bar, pulling myself in to join them for a couple of drinks. Our group had all bought 'Beer Lao' t-shirts for the event, creating a competition to see who could get the largest variation of people of different nationalities to sign their shirt. Unfortunately I didn't do too well, although some people acquired more than enough signatures for the rest of us. The rest of the day was spent slowly making our way down the river, bobbing, drinking, dancing and swinging, enjoying the infectious energy of tubing's infamous party atmosphere. It was something of a juxtaposition, our decadence in stark contrast with the humble country that we found ourselves in, a kind of chasm in our experience of Laos, a brief party amongst the beauty and culture, a welcome party nonetheless. As we floated away from the last bar, the music and excited yells gently faded and gave way to quiet relaxation and conversation, the group basking in the final hours of an exhilarating day - the calm after the storm, one could say. Once back, we had a shower and went out for a group meal before heading to a couple of riverside bars. The day's fun had taken it out of us, however, and most of us retired pretty early, although 3 of the girls managed an all-nighter, God knows how. And so ended Vang Vieng - with tubing behind us, we looked eagerly towards the rest of our Laotian adventure.

Our next stop was the quiet, picturesque town of Luang Prabang, situated up the Mekong river. We arrived in late afternoon, grabbing some food from a local street stall before ambling down the main street's night market, a colourful display of fabrics, paintings and general arts and crafts keeping us lingering around for a fair while before heading back to our hotel. The town's quaint prettiness reminded me in a way of Hoi An in Vietnam, a quality I found enduring. A few of us arose early the next morning in order to make our way to the local monastery, where we had planed to 'feed' the monks (they rely on contributions and can't eat after midday). Due to a shift in their schedule, however, we just missed them, although we caught their procession making its way through town, locals swarming out of their houses to make offerings as the line of orange robes marched past. Deciding not to go back to bed as some of the others did (it really was very early), a few of us walked through the morning food market as stalls were set up and foodstuffs prepared. It was an interesting experience, not one for an animal rights campaigner, however, who would undoubtedly be outraged at the cruel conditions of the animals up for sale. Surprising, seeing that the country's dominant faith encourages compassion towards all sentient beings.

Freedom of religion within the communist states of south-east Asia is something which seems to jar with the ideologies on which their politics are based, although I guess that religion is so ingrained in people's lives that an attempt to surpress it, or even perhaps address the issue in the political agenda, wouldn't be an option, even if they desired to do so. A compromise has been met, it seems, and, despite some clear problems, it seems to be working - at least stability and peace have largely prevailed since the wars, and that is the most important thing for majority the country's citizens. It might not be a perfect state of affairs, and progression must surely be made, but it's certainly better than the colonial days (including the US's horrific neo-colonial campaigns). A slow embrace of free-market economics, especially by Vietnam, has allowed for vigorous growth and recovery, something which has been greatly beneficial in rebuilding fractured communities within the state. Again, an ideological compromise. My reading of Graham Greene's 'The Quiet American', based in Vietnam near the end of French colonial rule, recently got me thinking about such things, my mind flashing back to memories of the countries I have visited and the impressions I got - a good choice of book anyhow. (Not related, but I also read Fitzgerald's 'Tender is the Night' recently - absolutely fantastic).

Anyway, I digress. After strolling the market, we were taken on a guided tour of some local sights of interest, including a grand temple and a silversmiths, before having lunch and meeting up with Ben for our afternoon activity, a visit the famous Kuang Si waterfalls. It was a leisurely affair, the site housing a bear sanctuary which we spent some time at before relaxing in various rock pools with rope swings and mini waterfalls as we progressed through the jungle. Eventually, we arrived at the main waterfall, an impressive sight, especially so from the top which we climbed up to, breathless by the time we arrived at the summit. It was definitely worth it, however, and we spent a decent time watching the cascade from above, endless streams of water rolling into the pool below. The climb up reminded me of our Nepal trek, the familiar rhythm of strained breathing stimulating flashbacks of its more grueling moments. We spent the evening at a very nice restaurant overlooking the Mekong river, leaning on cushions and chatting as we enjoyed the delicious food, my red curry rating particularly highly in my books. After finishing and allowing our food to settle, we moved over to the restaurant's beach volleyball court for a couple of games. What followed can only be described as messy and extremely unprofessional. I would say we had been drinking, but I don't think even a gallon of Beer Lao would justify our performance which was, in all honesty, an absolute shambles. Needless to say, Andy, our resident P.E. teacher, was not best pleased with our efforts. Good fun though - I've never been one to take sports too seriously. As we left, I once again noticed an innovative use of US bombs - in this case they were being used as structural aids, holding the ceiling up. I felt the effect of this potent symbolism and was reminded of the brilliant pride of the Laotian people.

The next day was a fairly relaxed one, most of it spent walking Luang Prabang's streets, absorbing its cultural richness and heritage, occasionally stopping to buy one of the many available baguettes and delicious fruit shakes. This flaneur-esque ambling reminded me of my days spent in India strolling the streets, experiencing whatever came my way, and I enjoyed it as I did back then. Eventually, as evening loomed, the group converged at a temple atop Phou Si Hill, which offered panoramic views of the city as night fell upon it. It was yet another amazing sunset, one of the countless many experienced on the trip, each unique in their own way, making their mark in my memory with their individual colours, landscapes and atmospheres, capturing moments in time that I will no doubt recall in the indefinite future. We decided to make the most of our last night in the city, so made our way to the local 'discotheque' upon the insistence of our rickshaw driver, who informed us that the bowling alley (which we were planning to visit) didn't fill up until much later. His methods of persuasion were somewhat amusing, his mention of "discotheque" invariably accompanied by a small dance, a jiggle of the hips which he must have known would entice us. We duly followed his recommendation and made or way to Luang Prabang's number one night spot. After arranging to meet our driver at around half 12 to go bowling (odd, I thought, that bowling should follow the disco and not precede it), we made our entrance. The club was, to say the least, pretty tacky and a little less than full, live bands taking it in turns to blast out a selection of Asian and Western rock songs to an audience of empty tables and chairs (including a roaring rendition of Bon Jovi's 'It's My Life', which got a couple of our group on their feet). It did, however, quickly fill up, locals arriving (purposefully, perhaps?) just after the bands had finished and the DJ was given reign over the night. After a couple more hours drinking, dancing and watching the local Laotian lads sharing single bottles of beer between four of them (with ice!), we decided it was time to bowl. Having recently watched 'The Dude' in action in the Coen brothers' brilliant 'The Big Lebowski' (a popular cult film amongst many south-east Asians), I took to the bowling with great fervour and enthusiasm. Unfortunately, my enthusiasm was premature and my skills on the lane didn't quite match up to those of the characters of the film. At least I didn't lose. When the last pin was felled and a victor crowned (Andy), we made our way back to our hotel after an interesting and surprisingly enjoyable evening out in one of Laos' most famous and beautiful cities (a UNESCO World Heritage Site, I neglected to tell you).

The next two days were spent making our way up the Mekong on a slow-boat. Staying true to its name, the slow-boat was, indeed, slow (hence the two days), so it was very much a time for contemplation, for absorbing the atmosphere. The Mekong is very much a part of the Laos experience, the river cutting its way through much of the country, providing it with valuable resources, so I felt it fitting that we should take time to really experience it, to follow its course the most natural way we can, observing, as we did so, the vast array of activities on the banks and the ever-changing landscape quietly developing as the boat made its route. The hours gently passed us by as we looked out at the scenery in a daze, perhaps catching a glimpse of a farmer or fisherman at work, or even a bathing elephant if we were lucky, the constant hum of insects and wildlife adding to the drone of the boat as we pulled our way through the placid water. As the day developed and the sun slowly retired, we would be presented with a different view from the river: new wildlife would appear, the sounds would change and intensify, the silhouetted trees would stare down at us more ominously than ever, the water would reflect the fading oranges and soft pinks and the boat's chugging and growling would fade in our ears as the arresting voices of nature captivated us. We were at the mercy of our environment and our job was simply to observe. We spent about 10 hours of each day on the boat, stopping off at the end of our first day at a small riverside town called Pakbeng, where we enjoyed a few drinks, a hearty meal and a good sleep before re-embarking early the next morning. Another day on the boat ensued, drifted, progressed, raged, calmed, settled and faded, until we once again found ourselves disembarking, in this case for the last time. We had arrived at Xuay Hai, another small town situated by the Laos/Thailand border, our last stop before we left the country. We spent the evening enjoying our final Laotian meal, making sure we all savoured our last Beer Lao, the group reminiscing over our experience of the country as we looked over, as we had done in Vientiane, at Thailand across the river, a beckoning prospect, our promise of tomorrow. We crossed the border the next morning, and so ended our journey through Laos.

Yep, you guesses it, I loved my time in Laos. Once again, I was introduced to a country that offered me something completely different, completely fresh, a country that added something new to my overall travel experience. Like Cambodia and Vietnam, Laos revealed to me the determination, courage and spirit of her people despite recent hard times. The smiles and welcomes never ceased and will stay with me for a long time. Aside from the politics and people, the country was one of outstanding natural beauty; one of mountains, lakes and lush vegetation - all of this despite the fact that it is the most heavily bombed country in history. The culture was as rich as I have come to expect in Asia, temples, stupas and other grand architectural structures standing as reminder of this, alongside the more humble individuals who would give us insights into their culture and traditions, adding that crucial third dimension to the experience: the influence of real lives. As I left Laos, the tour coming to a close, I looked back on the last forty days, and even the last three and a half months, and knew more than ever how I lucky I was to be in the position I found myself in. And my sentiments were shared.