Desperate Measures

Laos 2018: Luang Prabang

2-5 January 2018

In 2005, we took the bus from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang.  I remember that I kept passing out during the trip but, whenever I would wake up, I was astounded by the scenery that surrounded us.  It was so beautiful that it looked fake, like CGI.  I tried taking photos, just to be sure that I wasn't hallucinating, but my timing was so bad that I'd end up snapping a blurry photo of a wayward tree branch.  Each.  And.  Every.  Bloody.  Time.

This time around, I made sure to stay awake.  We, again, rented a van from Green Discovery Tours (USD$180, six hours).  I heard that there's shorter route to Luang Prabang but I insisted that the driver take us through the scenic route.  The scenic route turned out to be foggy.  The fog was so thick that we barely saw anything.  But the few glimpses that we had was enough to impress Nicolas to want to do the trip again in the future.

When we arrived in Luang Prabang, I was relieved to find that it was still beautiful.  It was possibly even more beautiful than it was before.  Thanks to it being declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site, it is free from high rises and fast-food restaurants.

I booked us a second-floor room with a balcony that faces the Nam Khan at The Apsara.  I was surprised that all the hotels I recommended in 2005 were still standing, although I couldn't locate Phounsab, where Sue, Deb, and I stayed.

 
Scenes outside our balcony at The Apsara.

The River Khan.

I signed up for the same Kuang Xi tour with White Elephant, except that Derek was no longer there.  Although he still has shares in the company, a guy called Alex has been running the show since 2014.  They have two offices:  one on the main drag, and the other one where Derek's wife's jewellery shop still is.

I was surprised that I recognised most of the streets of Luang Prabang.  Probably because I did a lot of shopping all over the place.  Kopnoi has moved across the White Elephant with the jewellery shop, alongside the row of establishments where Hive used to be, although it sells mostly handicrafts and jewellery now.

The Kuang Xi tour now costs USD$60 and isn't what it used to be.  I kept waiting for that "Monkeys in the Mist" moment, but it wasn't there.  Perhaps we took a different route?  Or maybe it was the lighting...

 

While we were exploring the Hmong and Khmu villages, another tour group arrived.  I guess this tour isn't unique to White Elephant anymore.

 
Above:  Scenes from the Hmong Village.
Below:  The villagers of the Khmu Village.  Both villages co-exist side by side peacefully.

A different group also arrived just as we were finishing lunch at the rest stop.

This river was only a few meters from where we had lunch but, according to our guide, we didn't stop there because we would have had to buy our meal from the small eatery that had set up shop there, in order to sit by the river.

It's funny how Laos still has that mindset of catering to the gap-year backpacker, even though their market has clearly shifted.  Across the log is a table of beer.  If you manage to cross to the other side without falling into the river, you get a free beer.  Apparently, there is also a zip line somewhere around the waterfalls.

There were also lot of tourists at the top of the falls, but I think most of them had walked up there.

And whereas the water used to be clear and pristine, now some of the pools at the top of the falls looked stagnant and disgusting.  

But the main waterfall itself was still impressive.

 

 

The bear zoo was still there.  There was no sign of the tiger, although we didn't really look for it since we were all quite eager to return to town.

Nicolas thought that the whole trek was unnecessary to see the waterfalls.  But he did like the boat trip down the Mekong which, I, personally, could have done without.

Where the Nam Khan and the Mekong meet.

  Refueling.

We visited the whisky village and Nicolas bought more weird Lao Lao bottles with scorpions and snakes inside.  (These are also on sale at the night market so Derek was still right about a trip to the whisky village being totally missable.)

Nicolas, making his way back to the boat from the whisky village, purchases in hand.

But Nicolas really wanted to try to fish, so they dropped me off back at the town and he and the boatman went out to try their luck along the Mekong.  They didn't catch anything, but had a good time chatting together.

 
You may contact Puk, our boatman, at+856 (55) 678 044.

I wandered about town, and briefly contemplated climbing Mount Phousi, when I stumbled upon some young Buddhist monks-in-training chanting at one of the wats just as the sun was setting.

 

For dining, we loved everything about Tamarind, which was right beside our hotel.

 

The Apsara, too, had excellent breakfasts.

The food at the night market has now been confined to one narrow side street.  You'll find the barbecues and the vegetarian buffets there.

The night market is still interesting and, at least, the vendors now are open to haggling, which they weren't before.

 
The two photos above are for Sue and Debra.  

I woke up early one morning to check out the alms-giving ceremony and found that most of the locals that were up at that time were there to sell food to the tourists to give to the monks.  They lined up plastic chairs for the tourists to sit on and, even then, there weren't a lot of tourists giving alms.

 

Above and below are all tourists giving alms.  At least, the monks now are getting more than sticky rice in their baskets.

She was the only local I saw giving alms.

Most of the tourists were mostly there to take photos, like me.  Which was all a bit sad.

It's a good thing our flight back to Bangkok was really early in the morning, and our car drove by the less commercial parts of Luang Prabang and Nicolas got to see the authentic alms-giving, with locals kneeling by the roadside.

Emails from Laos 2005: Luang Prabang Parts 1 & 2

30 December 2005

Part 1

All the travelers we've met coming from the north have told us that Luang Prabang is a small town.  Well, it isn't that small, especially when you arrive at nightfall, tired and hungry (and more than a little bit out of it), with too many heavy-assed bags, and every place you've knocked at is full.  We are the unholy trinity wandering about looking for an inn.  At the last minute, Sue finds us what was, in all likelihood, a manger in its past life.  Or a garage.  Seriously.  It's one of two rooms for rent in front of what looks like one of the more posh guesthouses in town, suggesting that these two rooms are converted stables/garages.  The room is stark with a tiny window.  The confused manager, who hardly speaks a word of English, hands Sue several blankets which we turn into a makeshift extra bed on the floor.  We are just grateful for a place to lay our heads.

The next day, we transfer to an even more expensive guesthouse. but this one has a a double and a single bed so no one has to sleep on the floor.  The bathroom is as big as the stable we just vacated.  It also has a balcony, which is separated from the main room by glass doors.  Of course, I forget that it looks out onto the main drag and hang around smoking ciggies in my bikini until I realize the tourists at the café across the street are staring.

The night market is just down the street and, soon, our room is turned into a giant closet with clothes and shopping bags strewn across beds and the floor.  At one point, I catch Deb taking her shopping in.  She lets out a gasp as she unlocks the door:  the room looks like a cyclone had gone through it!  She shrugs her shoulders and, from the doorway, chucks her bags in, then turns right around to shop some more.  Three chicks let loose on a night market can do a lot of damage.

Luang Prabang is unreal in its beauty, with a light morning mist adding to its surreal quality.  The town itself straddles two rivers, the Mekong and the Nam Khan, and is full of old wats and shophouses.  (For a great view of the town, I suggest climbing the 400 steps to the top of Mount Phousi at sunset.)

We get up early most mornings to watch the monks make their rounds begging for alms.  Local women – and tourist like Deb and me – kneel on mats by the street and place sticky rice in the monks' begging bowls.  Which begs the questions, why is it just women giving alms and why only sticky rice?  I'm sure the monks will appreciate other things in their bowls like a mango or warm soup or larp.

We walk into White Elephant Tours because there is a sign in front listing things to do and NOT to do in Luang Prabang.  Very cheeky.  We likey.  On the list of what not to do are the Pakou Cave which, we are told, is a waste of time and is verified by others who have taken the tour, and the rice wine villages.

The proprietor, Derek, is Canadian and has been living in Laos for the past five years.  He says most of the establishments we see around us have gone up only in the past two years.  Derek is warm and friendly and is eager to share his knowledge about Laos, whether it's recommending a tour or a place to eat.  Later, he points us towards a barbecue joint by the river, which is easily one of the best meals we have in Luang Prabang.

We succumb to the sales pitch and shell out $25 each for the trek to Kuang Xi waterfalls, which other tour operators advertise at only $1 - $2.50 at the most.  Apart from the three of us, there is only one other guy on the tour, David.  Our guide is Burly, and we make jokes about how he is the least burly man that we know, only to find out that his name is actually Vu Lee.  Oops!

Vu, Susan, and me.  (Photo c/o David Boorse.)

You know those movies where there are people walking through wild terrain, then the camera pans out over their heads to an absolutely fantastic view of mountains, and then the film's cheesy title flashes over it like THE SEARCH FOR THE LOST ISLAND OF SHANGRI-LA or something?  Well, if some opening credits had been rolling over our heads during the trek, I would not have been surprised.  Vu leads us through some of the most spectacular scenery I have ever seen in my life.  Even the fog that coyly slips over the mountains only enhances the magic and the mystery of the cliffs that rise up all around us.  I keep expecting to see a Lao Dian Fossey frolicking on the mountainside with whatever animals they have in these parts.

Photo c/o David Boorse.

Debra:  "It's like a set out of 'Monkeys in the Fog'!"
Me:  "You mean 'Gorillas in the Mist'."

We stop at a Hmong village.

Photo c/o David Boorse.

Laos is composed of three main tribes:  the Hmong, or highlanders, whose people can be found all over Asia, the Khmu who trace their roots to the Khmers, and the Lao or the lowlanders.

Derek makes good on his promise to take us to a village that is hardly visited by tourists and they open their doors to us because, apparently, Vu is Hmong.  Inside one hut, there is man sitting on the dirt floor, playing a melancholy tune on what looks like the Lao version of a bagpipe.

Photo c/o David Boorse

I find that I am hungry all the time on this trip and Vu is kind enough to stop at a most picturesque river, where he takes out our lunch from his backpack.  It turns out that the poor guy has been carrying, in addition to our delicious lunch (prepared by Derek's beautiful Lao wife), water bottles, a papaya and a watermelon!  He must have been relieved that I had gotten hungry so soon.

All photos in this section c/o David Boorse.

 

We resume the trek and it isn't long before we reach what Vu tells us is the top of the Kuang Xi (- most tours start from the bottom of the falls).  We wade through the shallow water and lean over the railing where the water drops to several pools below.  It is the first time we have stood at the top of waterfalls and we are exhilarated.

Photo c/o David Boorse.

We walk down, and the waterfalls are even more majestic below.

Photos above and below c/o David Boorse.

The water beckons and we take a dip in the freezing but refreshing pools.

 
All photos in this section are c/o David Boorse.

I think about the Philippines and how we, too, have beautiful waterfalls which, unfortunately, have been desecrated by local government officials with cement and mobile phone advertisements.

Photo c/o David Boorse.

Photo c/o David Boorse.

We warm ourselves with a cup of Lao coffee and I buy Oreos for Vu and teach him to dunk it in his brew, which he thoroughly enjoys.

On the grounds, there is also a small zoo where they keep a tiger and some bears that have been rescued from poachers who sell their bile to the Chinese for medicine.  The tiger is beautiful and only a few months old.  Our heart goes out to it because it looks sad and lonely in its huge enclosure.  The sign tells us that its mother and brothers were killed by poachers.  The bears look like anteaters with afros.  The keeper tells me that I can pet them.  Of course, as soon as I put my hand in the cage, one of them tries to take it off, but I manage to get it away without a scratch.

At the end, we are pleased to have missed the tourist hordes, and look up Derek again to sign up for more tours.

Part 2

Vu tells us that tomorrow is the beginning of the Hmong New Year, which they celebrate for about a week.  He has the day off and would like to take us to his village, which is nearby, to meet his family.

Photo c/o David Boorse.

It turns out that it is also Lao National Day and everyone is out on the streets in their finest Lao national costume.  Vu's family comes out to meet us but are shy and stay on the sidelines.

Debra, David, Vu's two other guests, Susan, and Vu.  (Photo c/o David Boorse.)

His mom cooks us some pancakes made of sticky rice, which we are supposed to dip in something that resembles molasses.  I am just here for the Lao Lao but I guess it is too early in the day for whisky and we make a brave effort to consume the pancakes but, at the end, make excuses that we have just had breakfast and are too stuffed to eat.

Grinding rice into pancakes.

We take a walk to some sort of plaza where, Vu tells us, everyone comes to socialize.  There is a beautiful Lao teenager dressed in a flamboyant pink Lao costume.  We take photos of her like we are the paparazzi.  She looks shy, but Vu tells us she can't be that shy if she has ventured out dressed that way.

Later, a gang of "cool" Lao boys turn up in leather jackets, their hair styled in the latest fashion.  Except that one of them is wearing pink flip-flops and cracks us up.

Vu invites us to come back later in the evening when there is more happening.  But Deb has to leave for Bangkok and Sue and I have to transfer to less expensive digs.  We get emotional when Deb leaves, and are even unhappier because we have transferred to a shithole which, at $12, is still too expensive for what it is.

We explore the town, visit wats (- Vat Xieng Thong is supposed to be the most beautiful in the whole of Laos), shop some more and then sign up for more tours with Derek.  Sue has several more days here so she signs up for a two-day biking tour ($80), while I sign on for a one-day kayaking and trekking tour  ($35?).  We are wary of what we will have to consume at the Hmong village so decide to stay in town on our last night together and treat ourselves to an expensive dinner and drinks.

My tour the next day feels a bit more commercial, probably because there are more of us and we encounter more travelers along the way.  We visit a Khmu village and Tad Xi, a smaller waterfall, which is still pretty but has been "developed" along the lines that the Philippines would.  No, they have not built concrete walls around it, but they did put some tables and chairs in one of the pools and there are prominent Beerlao umbrellas around.

The river is nice and pleasant, with a few rapids along the way for excitement.

The other travelers on the tour are shocked that I eat chicken.  They are worried about getting bird flu - which you CANNOT get once the damned thing is cooked - and then go traipsing about a hilltribe village where there are monster roosters, hens, turkeys, and geese roaming freely and shitting about.  Hello, bird flu!

Deb is a pescetarian and Sue has followed suit on this tour so anything with tofu on the menu excites them.  I, on the other hand, cannot possibly fake excitement over tofu even if it came in the form of a duck.  (It's a good thing we do not see any rats at the market, although we do encounter several small boys along our treks hunting river rats for food.)

When I get back to town, I hang out with Mike, a young Brit, straight out of university, whom I met in Vang Vieng.  I suspect he is hanging out with me because I eat chicken.

We check out The Hive, a local watering hole for expats and tourists, that has a sign outside that says "Please respect the local customs.  You may make noise at the bar but not on the street."  Several Beerlaos later and I am trying out my primal scream at the bar before closing time.  Luang Prabang has a curfew so we head back to town before midnight.

Luang Prabang Recommendations*

To stay:

• If you're not on a budget:  3 Nagas, Villa Santi, Apsara (which also has two houses for rent).
• For flash-packers like us, definitely Phounsab.  Don't let the crappy-looking restaurant downstairs mislead you, the rooms are actually nice.
• Stay away from Sok Dee.  "Sok dee" means "good luck" and you'll need it here.  David recommended the place because he was staying there but, as soon as he brought us there, they tried to sell HIM a room.  They were surprised but unapologetic when he produced his room key.

To eat:

• The Lao salad at Naunenapha.  That is THE ONLY THING to eat there despite their kilometric menu.  And don't let the grumpy woman taking your order put you off.
• The barbecue along the river.
• The vegetarian buffet along the night market for 5000 kip, which you have to get them to heat in a wok, as Mike informs me.  The girls and I had ours cold, which didn't impress me but they seemed to like.
• The Lemon Grass Wine Bar looked nice, and we've heard good things about Joma bakery, which is also in Vientiane.
• Sue and I ate at the French-owned restaurant on one of the side streets but it may be better for non-Lao food.

To drink:  Lao Lao whisky in its many incarnations!

To shop:

• Kopnoi is an excellent boutique with a lot of fab cotton clothes.
• Mixay Boutic, for silk.  They are also in Vientiane.
• The night market for bedsheets.  They come with two pillow cases but they will sell them to you at extra cost if you don't ask for them.
  
  

*Bear in mind that these recommendations were made in 2005.

Laos 2017/2018: Vang Vieng

31 December 2017 - 2 January 2018

I don't remember the ride from Vientiane to Vang Vieng in 2005.  We must have taken a mini-van and fallen asleep.  I just remember getting out of the vehicle and the sound of our jaws collectively dropping at the sight of Vang Vieng's achingly beautiful limestone cliffs.

This time around, Nicolas and I got a private transfer from Vientiane to Vang Vieng through Green Discovery Tours (USD 130, around four hours).

A sticker in the van.  I'm dying to know what it says!

Most of the ride was forgettable in terms of scenery, but we did happen upon a Hmong festival...

   

During Hmong festivals, the single women dress up in traditional garb.  Although, through the years, their traditional garb's hemlines seem to be steadily rising.

... and stopped at a roadside fish market so that Nicolas could ask about a monster fish that he wants to organise a future fishing expedition for.

   

 
While Nicolas was looking over some maps, the market vendors shared their Berrlao and potato crips with me.

But, as soon as the mountains came into view, I was beside myself with excitement.  And then, just like that, they disappeared from sight, and the van stopped.

"Traffic," the driver announced.

"Traffic?  What???  Are we in Vang Vieng?" I asked.

"Yes.  Traffic to cross bridge," he replied.

On the right side of the narrow road was a high bamboo fence.  The sign on it announced that it was the Riverside Boutique Resort.  I remembered it from 2005 as being one of the pricier resorts.  Apparently, it still is.  Across from it was another fenced-in resort.  I couldn't see beyond it, where Jardins de Vang Vieng used to be.  (I've since done a Google search and I don't think it exists anymore.)

There were no mountain views.  There were no river views.  There was only the traffic and a one-lane bridge.

They charge for the cars to cross.  I forget now how much.  But foot traffic is 4000 kip per person although, at night, it's easy to sneak across.

It was all very disturbing.

Until we got to Vieng Tara Villa.  I couldn't have picked better accommodations.  We were right by the mountains!  This must have been that place with the huts that we had stared at across the river back in 2005!

Those huts in 2005 must be where Vieng Tara Villa is now.

 

Vieng Tara Villa.

2005 (above) and 2012 (below).

While I do love modern architecture, I love it in big cities.  In place as naturally stunning as this, you've got to have a hut.  And our hut was unexpectedly perfect.  (Nicolas kept saying how it looked so much better on the inside than the outside.)

 

It was New Year's Eve so I booked us a table at Riverside.  Dinner wasn't until 8:30, so Nicolas and I crossed the bridge into town a few hours early and had a walk around.

All polka-dotted for New Year's Eve!

There was never anything remarkable about Vang Vieng's town, except for its spectacular backdrop, but I hadn't expected it to be so completely unrecognisable.  And UGLY.

   

  This monstrosity of a hotel is one of the town's biggest eyesores, in a town that has no shortage of eyesores.


And this is what it looks like from the river.  What a shame.

I wanted to cry.  It didn't help that the dinner at Riverside was lacklustre, as was the resort.  And somewhere across the river, some really atrocious music was blaring from what sounded like megaphone speakers.

I had originally intended to book three nights in Vang Vieng but miscalculated our dates and ended up booking only two.  After seeing what had become of it, I regretted coming at all.

The next day, Nicolas and I took a long tail boat on the river.

As soon as we left the mad, haphazard development behind, Vang Vieng cast its magical spell upon us and I fell in love with it all over again.

After the boat ride, we went back into town and wandered around again.  The mountains were still partially visible from between the featureless buildings so the town wasn't as ugly during the day as it was at night.

It was supposed to be the high season, but there didn't seem to be too many tourists.   Gone were the throngs of gap-year backpackers and, in their place, were mostly Chinese, Korean and local tourists.  (In its heyday, Vang Vieng's backpackers outnumbered locals 15 to 1.)

"Do you know where you're rowing to?", with apologies to Miss Diana Ross.

The Lao government was pressured into cleaning up Vang Vieng by foreign ambassadors after 27 deaths were recorded in 2011 - mostly Australians jumping off various contraptions while high and/or inebriated and cracking their skulls wide open on the rocks.

While one can still go tubing down the Nam Song River, it is now regulated and life vests are a must.  We saw a zip line, but it looked pretty lame.

Yeah, I think I'll pass on that.

There are still a few bars by the river, but they were all empty when we went past.

And if there are still Friends bars in town, we didn't see them.

While you can still find restaurants selling happy pizzas and mushroom shakes, you will have to search them out.

The ubiquitous signs of yore advertising drug-laced snackage have been replaced by signs for pancakes, and Nicolas and I gorged ourselves on every possible combination.  (Vang Vieng has most definitely adapted its food to the Western palate.)

 
This lady by the Western Union was our favourite. 

Nicolas also loved the hamburgers from this lady.

Noting the lack of Western toilet facilities in town, we decided to head back to the oasis that was our resort, and savour the view from the privacy of our balcony on our last night.  I must have sat out there for hours, totally entranced by the mountains. 

If I ever return to Laos, I will still always want to visit Vang Vieng.  Especially because the views get even better on the ride from Vang Vieng to Luang Prabang.  Hopefully, Vieng Tara Villa will remain the sanctuary that it is, and a faithful steward to those enchanting cliffs.

Emails from Laos 2005: Vang Vieng

21 December 2005

Vang Vieng has gotten a bad rap because of all the drugs and backpackers allegedly turning it into one big party place.  We pencil in two nights for this small town, which has become a popular rest stop for those traveling between Vientiane and Luang Prabang.  We end up staying for four and could easily have stayed a week or so longer.  What we did not count on was the absolutely stunning vistas of limestone cliffs.

We stay at Les Jardins de Vang Vieng (- a 10 to 20 minute walk from the main drag, depending on how much you've had to drink), which is not the Les Jardins you read about in the guidebooks.  We find out that the owners of that one had to leave the country and some enterprising folk from Vientiane took over the name and its reputation.  Although lacking any visible jardin to speak of (- they were working on it though when we were there), what the place has going for it is its spot by the river, right in front of the cliffs.  It was hard to tear ourselves away.

The view from the guesthouse's restaurant.  And, right below that balcony, was the scene below:

The guesthouse.

The huts.

The artwork.

At the end of the day, it was all about the view.

For those on the lookout for drugs, it is everywhere.  As soon as we get off the bus, all the restaurant signs in front of the terminal advertise happy pizzas, mushroom shakes, and special teas.  Several travelers mention to me that it is legal here, which I think most people would like to believe because of its widespread availability, but all the guidebooks – and common sense – still warn that it is illegal.

We find Friends Street on our first night.  I don't know its actual name but the street has earned the nickname from all the restaurants along the strip doing non-stop screenings of the TV hit show "Friends".  Fantastic for those with addled minds.  As a matter of fact, the whole town is vegetative-state friendly, and all the restaurants have lounges instead of chairs with tons of plump pillows, perfect for those in a drug-induced stupor.

The "den" we have chosen has several television sets so that even if someone sits up in front of you, you can always catch what's going on on another screen without having to lift your head from the pillow.  We settle in for about five episodes, which are more than Sue has ever seen in her life, but is pretty much normal for me since I am, after all, a couch potato** and a die-hard advocate of movie and DVD marathons.

[**At that time, I was writing a newspaper opinion column with a friend called The Couch Potatoes.]

We wander about town, and use the computers at Wonderland Internet Cafe.  It is run by a Singaporean who will also download whole albums onto your iPod for $1.  I give him $12 and he downloads about 14 into my 60gig.

The next day, we explore the charming village across the river, which we have already taken tons of photos of from our guesthouse.

It costs 2000 kip one-way to cross the bridge, which is nothing really, but they don't even give you a receipt so you have to wonder who is keeping the money from this business.  (We are told that one village chief pockets most of it.)

Two guys we meet later on said they crossed on motorbikes and were charged 15,000 kip ($1.50) one-way.  They stopped at one of the caves and one of them forgot to lock his fuel pump.  He came back to find most of his fuel siphoned off, with just enough left for him to return to the village.  Which is pretty considerate, considering...

We wander about for a long time and take pictures of various rural scenes and the mountains.

Then we spot a bar along the river and decide to stop for Beerlao, which is the only thing they are serving anyway since, we are told, this is their very first day of business.  They are celebrating their grand opening with some Lao Lao (Lao whiskey – very lethal) and I comply with a few shots.

The next day, we sign on with Green Discovery Tours for some kayaking and trekking.  We choose this particular outfit because Sue has read about them and she says they should at least be organized and know what they are doing.  We let go of these expectations straight away when they are VERY LATE picking us up at the guesthouse.  They tell us it is because the guy who signed us up the day before went off on a tour and failed to inform everyone else that we were supposed to get picked up.  Right-ho.  Along the way, later on, the guide gets lost several times on the path to and from a cave.  I suppose it could have been worse.

We are getting organized at the riverbank and our guide hands us life jackets.  Sue and Deb look at theirs disdainfully.  "Uh, we don't want to wear these," they say.  "We're very good swimmers," they promise.  The guide shrugs then proceeds with the briefing.  Afterwards, I approach the girls and tell them that I had been rafting in Indonesia and Malaysia, and if there are rapids in the river then they should wear the life jackets.  Sue says the briefing changed her mind and they both don their vests.

I partner up with Ana, a German girl, and I position myself in the rear (- the person seated in front paddles while the one at the back steers the boat), but I quickly learn that kayaking on a river is very different from the oceans that I am used to.  The swift currents make the boat unstable and it is highly vulnerable to every stroke of the paddle.  I am finding it hard to maneuver the kayak.  My partner informs me that she has been river kayaking for the past six years, so we agree to change places halfway through.

We stop and trek through the mountains and the guide gives us head torches to we explore a huge cave.

Bear in mind that I am still wearing those beaded flip-flops (with my skin back on*) and everyone is surprised at how well they are holding up.  (Deb has already had her shoes re-soled in Vientiane and Sue has her Birkenstocks repaired later on.)

*I started writing a series of e-mails that I entitled "Asian Fables", which chronicled our trip from Manila to Kuala Lumpur to Chiang May and then onto Laos.  The Laos entries begin at Asian Fables 4 and, previous to that, I had mentioned that I was wearing new beaded flip-flops that had been taking my skin off, and Sue and Deb kept teasing me about them because my feet were covered with plasters.

After lunch, Ana and I trade places and she is doing a fantastic job and I wish I had her take charge of the boat the whole way.

After one particular harsh turn in the river, our guide instructs us to turn the boats around to watch the others and make sure they make it around the bend.  One kayak overturns but the two Germans on it quickly surface and float along with their boat.

Then I see Sue and Deb going over fast.   Sue hurtles into the branches of a tree and I see her trying to get under them but she is caught and holding onto the boat, which is being dragged away by the currents.  Soon the kayak flips and our guide is screaming for us to catch whatever heads our way.

"The water bottles, the water bottles!  The paddles, the paddles!  The boat, the boat!"

Soon, the self-proclaimed "good swimmers" are floating down towards us, waving cheerfully.  We flip the kayak over and are happy to find Sue's dry bag still attached to it with all the contents safe and sound.  Deb's dry bag has held up as well but she's lost her $200 sunnies and Sue's lost a skirt.

"We are not amused."

We regroup down the river and stop at the organic mulberry farm where they are making tea and scarves from the mulberry silk worms.

Remnants of war as decor.

This is also the starting point for those going tubing down the river so, when we head off again, we are surrounded by lots of loud drunken travelers floating down the river in large tractor inner tubes.

We make another stop to check out Non Cave, which is a mega-ass cave for what it is called.  We wade in freezing water up to our waists just to get in and Deb is not too happy that her legs are short.

There are bars all alongside the river now, to cater to the "tubers" on the river.  If you want to stop, they haul you in with a bamboo stick and you can have a few beers or slide down a rope or jump off a platform or however way you wish to injure yourself in the name of having a good time.  Most of the people we see jumping or sliding have awful landings, and a guy I meet later on has several injuries from attempting various stunts along the river during his tubing excursions.  (Most travelers have, at least, two goes down the river.)  Towards where most tubers get off, there are more restaurants/bars with lounges so that you can chill by the river while other tubers pass you by.

Of course, we go tubing the next day.  But it's very late in the day and the sun has gone down and our butts are in the cold water while the chilly Beerlaos in our hands are freezing our upper bodies.  Plus the current does not seem too strong today so we have to paddle with our arms a lot.  We got our tubes from our guesthouse so that we could float all the way down there and not have to take the tubes back anywhere else.  We never make it to the guesthouse.  It's too damned cold and we hail a tuktuk halfway along the riverbank.  Ah well, it was fun while it lasted.