Transport in Laos is slow going…but the trip is well worth it
Friday, March 17th, 2006Luang Nam Tha-Muang Ngoi Neua March 12th
Fabien and I were ready to go around 7AM on Sunday morning. The bus to Vientianne (which would drop off us at Pak Mong) was scheduled to leave at 8:30. We knew we should arrive early, but stopped for a quick breakfast before going to the bus station. We arrived at the bus station around 7:45 and the bus was full, no more tickets. Our destination (Muang Ngoi Neua) was a total of 7-8 hours away. We tried to get in a van going to Luang Prabang (for an exorbitant price), but the driver didn’t want to drop us along the way, so we were stuck waiting for another bus. Plan B. We bought tickets to Oudomxai, a town about 4 hours from Luang Nam Tha, about half way. Our tickets said 10:30, the seller said 11:00,we finally left around 12:30. Almost 5 hours waiting in the bus station,and we hadn’t gone anywhere. Of course you can’t leave because when a bus is full in Laos it leaves, regardless of scheduled departure time. (This also means that if it isn’t full, you wait…) We were packed in like sardines, but the ride wasn’t so bad. Of course the driver stopped to put air in the tires 5 minutes after we left the bus station. Hmmm, you ask yourself, didn’t he have 5 hours to do that while we were waiting? About 10km from Oudomxai, we blew a tire, but we continued anyway.
In Oudomxai, Fabien went straight to the ticket counter to get an onward ticket while I got the backpacks. It was about 4 in the afternoon. We got tickets in a sangathew, a small truck, to Pak Mong. We spent about 30 minutes waiting for a huge number of boxes and crates to be loaded on the roof and into the back (where we were sitting.) The boxes belonged to two well-dressed women; of course they sat in the front with the driver while we crammed into the back with their boxes, a sweet old man and another sheepish looking man wearing a suit who chain smoked the whole time. It wasn’t so bad, I wedged myself next to some boxes, to try to keep them from falling and we started the windy journey up into the hills. It didn’t take long for me to start feeling a little sick, so I faced forward and let the wind blow in my face, the scenery was spectacular. First stop was to load more crates into the truck, so I lost my forward facing spot and scrunched up next to Fabien. The next stop, we picked up two men and two dogs. There was obviously not enough room on the seats, so Fabien climbed to the back to stand and hold on. I told him it wasn’t safe at all (in the mountains), so I sat on top of big canvas bag in the bottom of the truck, wedged in between two boxes. One of the new guys spread out and made himself comfortable in the new spot I opened up and I shook my finger at him and pointed at Fabien who didn’t have seat. Somehow, I avoided motion sickness, but it wasn’t long before one of the guys, a young guy about 20, starting throwing up out of the back of the truck. Having been there myself, I felt very sorry for him, but was a little bitter about the whole situation. The dogs made themselves comfortable laying at our feet, and one of them quickly took to Fabien (I was amused, but Fab wasn’t.) When we were arrived in Pak Mong it was dark, about 8, and Fab was determined to find a taxi to take us to Nong Khiaw an hour away. I had had enough and wasn’t confident in the mountain roads after dark, so we got a room in the only guesthouse in town and went for noodle soup.
The next morning, we were again ready to go by 7AM. We only had about 2 more hours to get to our planned destination; we found a shared truck and got to Nong Khiaw about 9:00. Nong Khiaw is a quaint little town on the Nam Ou river (nam actually means river in Lao.) We stopped here for breakfast and and then bought tickets for the longboat to get to Muang Ngoi Neua, a tiny village one hour upriver. The boat was scheduled for 11:00.
Muang Ngoi Neua has become a little mecca for travelers and our boat was full of falangs (that’s lao for foreigner-falang is also the word for French and somehow derives from the impression of the Lao people that French have big noses.)
So, there were about 12-15 of us piled in this longboat with all of our giant backpacks. We pushed off from the tiny port and discovered that the engine wouldn’t start. The driver and his friends worked on the engine about 40 minutes, while another guy slowly paddled, to no avail. There were plenty of other working boats, but this guy didn’t want to lose the job, so he insisted we stay in his boat. Finally, another boat came up along side us and offered to take us. We piled our stuff into the new boat, and situated ourselves, when the engine of the other finally started. They made a big attempt to get us back into the other boat, but this time there was no moving the falangs. We got to Muang Ngoi Neua around 1, 30 hours after this fateful journey had begun.
We were rewarded with our own little paradise. I village sat on right on the river, no roads, no electricity, no telephones. We stayed in a little bamboo cottage with a balcony over the river for $1. We spent a few days there relaxing, hiking to local villages; we rented a longboat and paddled up the river. The evenings we drank beer, played cards and ate our meals by candlelight. We also met a lot of travelers, exchanged stories. It was a haven for French travelers, so I practiced my rusty French. On Josh and Marisa’s recommendation, we stayed at the Banana Cafe (we actually ended up there a bit by accident, but then found it was the same place.) The family was wonderful, but they are also having some tough times. “Papa” is in Vientianne waiting to have an operation, but the family has to raise the money for it. We tried to give them as much business as we could, and some extra to help out. When we left, “Mama” tied little string bracelets on our wrists for good luck.
Now we are in Luang Prabang, which could be my favorite city in southeast Asia. More to come about Luang Prabang soon…
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