A gentle breeze blew the fragrance of 26 blooming plumeria trees up the steps on the hillside to the temple area where I stood enjoying the view of the flat river valley below.

Despite hearing from multiple sources that Vientiane was “quiet,” I was still surprised by this small town. It shouldn’t have been that surprising though, as its population is a miniscule 200,000. I think the next biggest town is less than half of that. I say miniscule because with a population of over 5 million, one would expect Lao’s capitol to have more people. In India, 200,000 people is barely a town and I think even Male, in the Maldives, has 200,000 residents (from national population of only a half million). Anyways, Vientiane’s population quantifies how agrarian the country is, if nothing else. Combine the smallness of Vientiane with the mellow Lao culture and you have the most laid-back capitol I’ve ever visited. In my opinion, Vientiane was too quiet. I’ve learned that I like living in and around cities, but usually try to avoid them when traveling. I’ve found that the majority of large cities have little to offer travelers and tourists, although the famous ones often offer sightseeing. Vientiane had even less. We toured the national museum, which had recently been renamed from the “Lao Revolutionary Museum.” The first exhibit was about dinosaurs because several dinosaur skeletons were discovered in Lao a hundred years ago. Most of the museum was an interesting history of Lao since its European discovery and the end was chock-full of propaganda; busts of everyone from Lenin to Ho Chi Minh and plenty of references to “American imperialists.” Besides the museum, we saw the city’s most famous wat, Wat Si Saket, which was disappointingly unimpressive, although it had an interesting collection of Buddhas. Patuxai (pictured above) was an interesting monument to see for a brief few moments, kind of Vientiane’s answer to the Arc de Triumphe. We also walked to the Cambodian Embassy twice to drop off and pick up our passports to get visas. And the American Embassy to get extra passport pages for Joylani. You can see where I’m going with all this. We found the food in Vientiane pretty mediocre, which was tough for Joylani (she does want me to quote her saying, “The Vietnamese restaurant was my favorite though. Bo Bun- its where its at.”). We tried all sorts of restaurants, but the street stalls were the best we ate. There were and handful of ATMs in Vientiane, but I only found 3 of them that accept international cards. The city has no buses and very little traffic overall. With the exception of one tall hotel, most of the city doesn’t rise about three stories. And all the nicest buildings are government and or Party ones- sad when you think how poor the country is. There’s a sizable NGO population too, which can be seen by the numerous nice SUVs they drive. Overall, we both found Vientiane underwhelming and were plenty ready to leave once we had our visas and new passport pages in hand.

Travel is really slow in Lao. I cannot write enough posts about the subject, because it is so slow. I’ll admit it could be faster is we took private tourist vans when they were available, but we prefer not to for several reasons. The main reason is because I feel that the local transport is one of the ways to really get to know a country. On a local bus, the windows are either broken or open, so we can smell and see the landscapes, we’re stuffed in dozens of other Lao, so we get to see how most people travel, and we eat real Lao food at all the local reststops. Contrast that with a private tourist van, where the windows are tinted and you drive so fast you can’t see anything, the windows don’t open and there’s A/C instead of the wind, so you’re in this little climate/smell controlled bubble racing down the road and only stopping at tourist/traveler oriented restaurant for any breaks. The tourist-vans have purpose though. We’ll take one if it’s a extraordinarily long journey or if we’re in a rush to get somewhere. For instance we’ll probably take one in a few days from Vientiane down to Pakse.’

makeshift ferries to transport cars and trucks across Mekong

I’ve written quite a bit already about how slow travel is in Laos and how we’ve spent a disproportionate amount of our time here so far in transit. Today we spent 4 hours going the 60-something miles from Vang Vieng to Vientiane. A placard at the front of the bus indicated it was gift from Japan in 1988, similar to many of the Korean-donated buses we’ve seen elsewhere in Lao. To ensure good seats (or any seat at all, for that matter) we got on about 45 minutes before it was scheduled to leave. Once we did get going, I realized that this was perhaps the slowest bus I ever took. On flat road, we went incredibly slow and I seriously think I could’ve walked faster when we hit inclines. We didn’t stop that often, but that’s just because Lao isn’t as populous as most places we’ve been. We stopped for everyone that waved us down, until many of the seats had 3 people and the middle aisle was crowded. But I learned a little bit on the ride too. Like other rides in Lao, many passengers were transporting big bags of grain. Most were put on the roof, but many were laid out or sat upright down the middle aisle for seats. And like our last bus ride, the driver, the bus boys, and the first couple rows in the front were all engaged in a laughter-filled conversation most of the ride. I also noticed that people in Lao have a kind of wide-eyed smile when they board a bus. The only paved roads we’ve seen so far in Lao are the main highways. All the sideroads and village roads are unpaved or dirt paths. Thus, we never left the highway, but just stopped as we passed through road-side villages. I say I learned a bit on this bus ride, because I was just making mental notes of how Lao local bus travel is unique. For instance, in India, the middle aisle always stands, the drivers never engage in conversation, most people look serious when they get on a bus, in addition to random pickups, most public buses stop at bus stations every few hours, and most travelers are men. That’s just a couple contrasts between Lao and India, but I think it’s the accumulation of seeing how people travel, eat, live, talk, party, etc, that helps one to get to know a country and/or culture. So like I’ve mentioned before, travel is slow in Laos. But its been really for seeing the country and observing its people. Flying around Lao wouldn’t give justice to its beautiful mountainous and rivers. And taking a tourist bus, I’d miss out on the good noodle stops and glimpse into a small aspect of Lao life. The travel has been slow, but its rewarding too.

Our bus is 20 years old. It is from the “88-89 Lao-Japan Cooperation Project for the Improvement of Public Transportation in Vientiane,” where we are headed. There is packing tape on the ceiling holding a broken panel together. The bus is a reminder that this is a poor nation. The minimal (yet increasing) development is obvious, just a few main highways connect the country, but they are not that busy with long distance traffic. Poverty is less apparent. During our many travel days in Laos, I have been reminded of the poverty as we pass by offices for NGOs—UNICEF, WHO, World Vision, Red Cross, Oxfam—all the big ones. It’s thought provoking that the poverty is visible by the presence of these NGOs and not by destitute faces of hungry kids and pleading adults. I think from a western mindset; poverty is associated with homelessness. So these people have homes. But they are temporary. A lot of the structures we’ve seen outside of the bigger towns are temporary—woven bamboo, thatched roofs. These types of structures do not last forever. Beyond a shelter though, there really isn’t much. I suspect that in the villages we don’t see there is even less. So what is the full scope of the poverty here?

I really liked Vang Vien. It was a relaxing stop on our quick tour of Laos. And instead of site-seeing, we got to do things. Our first afternoon we went for a walk through rice fields, following the “blue flaks” (flags) to a cave. It started getting dark, so we never actually made it to the cave, but it was still fun to walk through fields in the shadow of beautiful limestone cliffs. The next day we inner-tubed down the river, at some points having to paddle with my slippers to keep going (it is dry season, so the water was a little low in some places). The sun set softly behind the hills, followed by a ribbon of thousands of insects flying across the horizon. It was really amazing and lasted for about 5 minutes; we saw a repeat performance the next night. On the third day we rented bikes to ride out to another cave. Along the way we were greeted with many sabadi (hello) as we passed through villages and by schools. A couple kids stuck out their hands for a high-five as I rode by. It was fun. Our last day in Vang Vien we switched to a hotel with free internet and spent the whole morning taking turns skyping people back home. All in all, it was a great few days. Vang Vien is at an interesting place as the number of visitors increases each year and the town continues to develop. Only a couple of years ago the main road was dirt. Now it is paved and new buildings are going up everywhere. Having visited similar foreign-tourist only type destinations, it was interesting to see this town in this in between stage of development.

 

I have a few clarifications to Matt’s post. #1.) My daily activity consisted of more than just walking for 20 minutes, so he speaks for himself there. #2.) I wouldn’t say I was “plagued” by knee problems the last two years, but it did start bothering me significantly more during this trip.  However, during a certain bathroom break at the airport my knee popped so loudly that I thought I might be stuck in the squatting position permanently.  Fortunately this was not the case, and I think the pop relieved some of the problems in my knee, resulting in no problems with it during the trek and thereafter.  #3.) We walked often before the trek.  I don’t think this has changed much.  It’s cheaper that way, duh.   #4.) After a few days of 3-4 hours straight of stairs during the trek, I will say that a small hill of stairs leading up to a temple or cave is much less intimidating than before.  #5.)  That cave was freaky and the spider as big as my face.  Ok, maybe not as big as my face because I have a big head, but it was definitely large enough to cover the average person’s face…  #6.) Yes, I was definitely pedaling faster than Matt.

Joylani and I don’t consider ourselves outdoors people, but we’ve come to the conclusion that we do a lot of outdoorsy things as a result of traveling. At home, our outdoor exertions were limited to about 20 minutes of walking a day, between our apartment and the train station and the train station and our offices. But being in some of the most beautiful (and undeveloped) parts of the world, we’re constantly outdoors. Swimming, walking, hiking/trekking, and cycling, among other things, have become frequent activities for us. In the course of our travels, I think we might do more outdoors activities than a lot of people who consider themselves the outdoors type, whatever that is. And although neither of us are exercise junkies, fitness buffs, or consider ourselves super-healthy, as we’ve traveled we’ve become more confident in our abilities. A turning point for Joylani was the Annapurna Trek, both physically and mentally. Her bad knee that’s plagued her for the past couple years hasn’t acted up since then, her endurance has really improved, and we joke that it’s the first time she’s ever had visible leg muscles. Most of all since the trek, I’ve noticed that she’s willing to walk any distance or hike any trail. I’ll ask, “You wanna catch a sawngthaew?” or “Let’s just take a tuk-tuk.” Looking at a map, she’ll say its only x kilometers, so we walk more often. And hiking, she’s much quicker and doesn’t tire or rest much anymore. Once she told me, “Yea man, that Annapurna was tough. Since then though, I feel like I can do anything.” It was in that spirit, that we decided to rent mountain bikes to ride to some nearby caves. The caves are 15 kilometers north of town, but the route was along the paved main highway, so we thought it would be easy. We got the bikes in the early afternoon and set off. It was pretty hot. Not as hot as some other days, but definitely hot enough that shade was much preferable to sun and resting a more appealing option than exercising. And it was bit more hilly than I expected. It wasn’t a lot of hills, but the road was a continual undulation of upward and downward slopes, although it was more uphill as we were heading upriver. We stopped once and gulped down a bottle of water before hopping back on our bikes to the caves. When we arrived at the village indicated, on the hand-drawn map we got in town, we turned off the highway onto an unpaved road. I’d say dirt road, but it was more rocks than dirt. It was tough holding the handlebars as our bikes bounced hard and jerked every which way over the rocks. Good thing we’d shelled out the extra .50 cents for mountain bikes, because I don’t know what we would’ve down without thick tires and shocks. Luckily, it was only a kilometer or two before we came to the river. Crossing the river on a bamboo bridge, we then walked about a kilometer to Tham Nam cave. We passed one cave on the way and there were a couple others in the vicinity, but Tham Nam was our destination.

me, my headlamp and waterproof batterypack, and my tube, ready to go in the cave…yes, its that little hole behind me

We arrived to find a little bar/restaurant, some inner tubes stacked up, and some headlamps. The cave wasn’t what either of us were expecting. It didn’t have a big arched mouth, but was rather scary looking. Basically a small river was flowing out of the limestone cliff and there was a foot or two of space between the water’s surface and the roof of the cave mouth. A group of three guys went in ahead of us, while we strapped on our headlamps and sat in our tubes in the cold water. There was a rope in the water and strung through the cave, so we waded into the river, sat in our tubes, grabbed the line and pulled ourselves into the darkness. The line zigzagged into the cave. Immediately inside the temperature was already cooler, the air misty, and much darker. The water near the entrance glowed green from the light outside. Looking into the cave, it was pitch black and all we could hear was the echoes of the three guys that had entered a few minutes before us. We pulled ourselves along the dark tunnel, looking at the cave walls, which were covered with all sorts of interesting surfaces. Like the other caves we’ve seen, some parts of it looked smooth and rounded, some parts looked like hanging drapes, some areas were covered with patches of small crystals, and there were small stalagmites hanging from the ceiling.

can you guess what Joylani’s thinking? 

As we penetrated deeper into the cave, the air was thick with mist. It was hard to see anything, as our headlamp beams becamse visible beams and then just reflected right back at us like headlights in thick fog. A few hundred meters into the cave, the water was too shallow to sit in our tubes and the ceiling was too low to stand, so we got out of our tubes and carried them in a crouch/walk for a few meters until the ceiling rose again and we found a sandy island inside. There were a few other people there, who left for the entrance just as we got there. The cave kept going to the left and the right, so it was like we came to a T-junction. But neither side had a rope and Joylani wanted to go back, so we looked around for a minute or two before heading back. On the way back, we discovered another rope tied to original one. We followed it down an offshoot of the main tunnel, where it also stopped at a “beach.” Leaving our tubes, we crawled on the clay under the super-low ceiling behind the “beach,” which brought us to another place where the river flowed. There wasn’t much to see or do, as we didn’t have our tubes and there was no rope, so we headed back. On the way back, Joylani (of course she would be the one see it) spotted huge spider. Knowing how much she hates bugs and especially spiders (I’m sure anyone that’s read our blog for any amount of time knows the same), I wasn’t too surprised when she screamed, panted a few times, and said, “Matt. That’s the biggest spider I’ve ever seen.” I wasn’t too surprised because Joylani often speaks in hyperbole about bugs. But when I’d crawled to the open space where she was and I looked up, it was true: there, on the cave wall, was the biggest spider I’ve ever seen in my life. It wasn’t one of those fat hairy ones with a lot of body mass. Rather, it had medium-sized, sharply-shaped black body, with long legs that were thick near the body and came to sharp points at the end. I have no idea how dangerous it was, but the fact that its legs could cover my entire face was enough to get us back to our tubes FAST. We pulled our ourselves back towards the mouth of the cave, via the rope. A few minutes later, we were back outside in the late afternoon sunlight. The ride back to town was a death ride. I hadn’t eaten anything except a pancake and few slices of fruit for breakfast. My thighs burned as I pedaled and even Joylani was going faster than me. I caught up to her a few times on the uphills, but I was dying. The dusty air was irritating my sore throat and a late afternoon breeze was blowing against us, slowing us and making my eyes water. On one long uphill, we got off our bikes and walked them up the hill. We did eventually make it back to town beat, sweating, panting, etc. Today was one of those days that embodies the outdoor spirit: uncomfortable, difficult, and scary, but scenic and rewarding too. Even after today’s 30km bike ride and cave expedition, I don’t consider myself an outdoorsy person. But I do enjoy trying and experiencing things even if they’re too hot or too cold, scary or difficult, uncomfortable and even comfortable, too. And as the trip goes on, I see Joylani increasingly doesn’t let the unpleasant/difficult aspect of things get in the way of experiences and fun. For those that have been following our blog, I’m sure you’ve seen her adventurousness increase as her fears diminish. Many times in the past six months, she’s both surprised me and made me proud. Those of you that know her can see how today is a good example of how she’s changed; suggesting cycling 15km to and from our destination, following a rope several hundred meters into a dark cave filled with water, and not freaking out when seeing a six-inch spider. Of course, we’re both changing and growing in many ways, but today was just an example and reminder of one way in which Joylani has.

bad photo, but you get the point

Today was one our funner days in Lao. Joylani and I both felt sick in the morning, but at least we could sleep in. It wasn’t a travel day, so no waking up early to catch a bus. Nor is Vang Vieng a tourist trap, so we didn’t have to awake early to go on a tour. Sometimes I think I sleep-in less while traveling than at home… We had a lazy morning, eating a good breakfast and then spending some time online. By noon, we were feeling considerably better, so we rented some inner tubes to float down the river. A sawngthaew dropped us and our tubes about 3km north of town. From there, we got in our tubes and went with the slow current of the Nam Song. The fun thing here is that there’s a bunch of bars and restaurants along the river to stop at. Plus, they all have zip lines, swings, or really high platforms to jump off of. The place we stopped was a bar playing loud music. Some Lao ladies pulled us in from the river with bamboo poles. We climbed up and met a couple from SF we’d met on our boat ride to Nong Khiaw. We talked to them for bit over some Beer Lao’s. Then I encouraged Joylani to go up and try the zip line. The line descends from a 30-40 foot platform. Joylani never jumps off stuff into water, so it was fun to actually see her do this. She had a nice glide down and let go right before the end of ride, coming down feet-first in the water. I went for a try and took a guy at the bars advice to hang on until the end, which is basically where there’s a stopper to stop the handles. So I whizzed down and it felt like I was going pretty fast when the handlebars hit the stopper. I was violently jerked from the zipline and I flipped backwards almost into a dive before hitting the water.

one guy goin down the zipline 

After that we got back in our tubes and floated down some more. There were a lot of other people lazily tubing down the river and tons of people drinking and chilling out at the riverside bars to Marley and techno-ized Black Eyed Peas. When I saw a really high crane-looking tower with a platform and swing, I knew we had to stop. A guy tossed us a rope and pulled us in. We ordered a drink and I climbed up the tower. I grabbed the handlebars at the end of the cable and jumped off the 40-some-odd-foot platform. I swung down towards the river and then back up again until I became stationary in the air and dropped off the swing, probably only 15-20 feet up. I had to do that one twice

another guy going on the swing… 

After that, we got back in the tubes and floated down until we got to our guesthouse. Most people that’ve visited Vang Vieng rave to me about the drinking part of the tubing, but I actually enjoyed the swings and stuff more. I mean, Beer Lao is pretty good and it doesn’t get too much more relaxing than floating down the river and drinking beer. But jumping and flipping into the river at faster speeds and greater heights than most riverside rope-swings was definitely a highlight. A touristy activity, as there were no Lao tubing or drinking on the river, but it fun nonetheless.

 From reading some of my recent posts relating to SEA, it shouldn’t be surprising that I almost decided we should skip past Vang Vieng after several people told us it was really touristy. But it was a convenient place to breakup the journey to Vientiane and was supposed gorgeous. Well, I am glad we came. It was a much shorter bus ride than we expected and its only another three hours south to the capital. Additionally, it is gorgeous. There is a range of limestone mountains/cliff/karsts just across the Nam Song (the river) to the west. Our guesthouse is ideally situated on the banks of the Nam Song, facing the mountains- the morning sun illuminating the mountains and the evening sun setting behind them. The downside is that it is really touristy, but it has forced me to reevaluate my view of touristy places in SEA.

The first thing I saw when I stepped off the bus in Bangkok was a food cart piled with various types of seasoned and fried insects.  I knew that the cuisine would change as we traveled east through Asia.  And I’ve seen plenty of different types of meats in markets at home and abroad.  But nothing was so exciting as seeing “dog meal” on a menu for the first time.  We’ve made it, I thought to myself.  No longer in the veg-heavy subcontinent, seeing dog meal on the menu marked the beginning of a new place in terms of what constitutes “edible,” particularly with meat.  On the same menu was a dish made from field rat, as well as various parts of pig and cow which I don’t think I’ll be trying anytime soon.  Even though I don’t have the appetite to try the more adventurous things we are coming across in the markets and restaurants, I do enjoy hearing about them and seeing it for myself.  A couple of days ago we saw strips of buffalo skin drying out in the sun.  It gets scraped and re-softened before getting eaten (picture rawhide dog bones, that’s what it looks like).  Another delicacy in Laos and other Asian countries is the hardboiled chicken or duck embryo, also known as the “pregnant egg.”  Having thought I was getting a regular hardboiled egg, I accidentally ordered one the other night.  I thought it was strange that the shell didn’t crack when I hit it with a spoon, it seemed extra hard.  The membrane was pretty thick too.  A fair amount of liquid spilled out when I finally broke through the shell.  Must have gotten a lot of water inside it while it was boiling, I thought to myself.  But then I realized that there was no egg white and the yolk seemed extra large.  As I peeled back a small section of shell, there was a strange form of yolk/baby bird cooked inside.  Matt was pretty grossed out by the site, and I wasn’t planning on eating it, so I put it back in the little dish it was served in.  I had read about these eggs before, and suddenly it dawned on me why I had seen numbers on other “hardboiled” eggs at the market—the numbers indicate what stage the egg is in.  At the market in Phonsavon, we saw bowls of live grubs and crickety bugs (previously we’d only seen cooked insects), the usual fish, bats, chicken…wait, bats?!  Yep, a basketful of bats, wings tied down so they couldn’t flap.  That was a new one.  So was seeing a live rat a few stalls down.  Actually, I weren’t quite sure what it was when I first saw it, the snout wasn’t as pointy as a rat, plus it was a little bit larger than most rats.  I looked it up online and think it is a river rat.  In the process I came across a story about scientists who discovered a new mammal species at a market in Laos—the rock rat.  This was just a few years ago!  The web search also led me to an interesting website dedicated to exploring different social views on what constitutes meat and well as trying it along the way.  The site is www.weirdmeat.com, I recommend checking it out if you’re interested in that sort of thing (check out the “master list”).  I thought it was pretty cool to read about how the different meats are prepared and what they tasted like with out having to do so myself.  I have a phobia about eating meat that is not flat.  It’s just difficult for me.  In the meantime, the only new foods I’ve been trying are fruits, though I’m sure eventually I’ll try some of the more exciting items available on our journey.