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.
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