Friday 19th September 2008
I've never been to Laos, so I don't know what to expect. I bought the 'Lonely Planet' guide in Bangkok at the start of this trip (it seems a lifetime ago to me) but I haven't started to read it yet - it would be too confusing (I struggle to remember what country I'm in and I have no idea what day of the week it is). In case I have more trouble with the internet, I'll let you see the itinerary, to be going on with.
Travel to Thai - Lao border to pier to take Luang Say cruise. The LuangSay riverboat leaves Huay Xai Pier at 09:00am for a cruise down the river to Pakbeng. You will pass dramatic jungle scenery and towering cliffs. En route one stop is made to observe the rural life of the river tribes along the Mekong. There is a buffet lunch served on board. Continue to Pakbeng where you will arrive before 17h00 for sunset and check-in to the Luang Say Lodge. Dinner is provided on the terrace overlooking the Mekong River.
Last morning at the Anantara – I’m woken by an alarm call at 5.30 a.m. and it’s raining. Down to the restaurant for a simpler-than-usual breakfast then make my final arrangements and check out.
My guide, Koon, is already there with the driver, so we’re soon on our way South, taking the coast road. Unusually, we pass onto roads which are potholed. Generally, the roads in Thailand I've been on are in pretty good condition. We pass through the village where Koon was brought up and then the road becomes twisting and mountainous and veers inland. We’re now in an area occupied by the Hmong tribe, originally from Southern China, and we pass people walking to the fields in traditional dress and with a large basket on their back which they’ll use to collect the day’s supply of vegetables. Most of the people use a woven bamboo basket, but some have a large plastic-moulded basket like a laundry basket. A few are saving their legs by riding pillion on motor bikes! Eventually, the river re-appears and we start to descend. The rain is still coming hard, sluicing across the road and causing further damage.
Eventually we reach a small town which is apparently the ferry port. A short road on our right descends steeply right into the waters of the Mekong. Having donned my 'Pack-A-Mac' style kagoule and sheltering under the offered umbrella, I walk to the smart, modern Thai Immigration building and officially leave Thailand. There are a number of small motor boats (similar to the Lake Inle style) near the water's edge. Koon points to one, already loaded with a few passengers aboard and, having surrendered my umbrella, I trudge across the strip of wet sand as delicately as possible and haul myself aboard. My bags are dumped fairly unceremoniously in the bottom of the boat by Thai porters and the boat driver immediately goes astern to free himself from the sand then guns the engine as we head out across the grey waters of the Mekong. This does not look auspicious, I think to myself.
After a few minutes, we approach the shore on the Lao side. There's not as much wet sand to cross, but the rain is still coming down. Two porters grab my bags and head off up the steep street towards the town, pointing to a building which turns out to be the Luang Say Travel Office. There are English-speaking guides, so I gain hope that it's all going to work. There are various tourists milling about and the pile of luggage on the floor is growing. Everybody seems a bit bemused. Eventually, it gets sorted out. We have to complete a Lao Visa Application and supply a passport photograph which the Luang Say people take to the Lao Immigration office next door. When they return with a visa stapled into the passport, the passport holder has to personally go to a different window at the same office to be officially admitted to the country. There's a lot of good-natured confusion because there seems to be a number of young backpackers arriving from the constant stream of small boats going back and forth between Laos and Thailand.
We have a bit of waiting around and then a mixture of English- and French-speaking passengers are marched to the main street to board a series of pick-ups with bench seats which will transfer us to the boat. The rain has now stopped and spirits lift. We go through the towh to reach another landing place where a concrete ramps serves a vehicle ferry. But the vehicle ferry is moored a few feet away, so that our craft can use the ramp for boarding passengers and their luggage. Most of the people from the Travel Office we've just left are now on the boat and will be with us for the rest of the trip.
The main deck is divided into three seating areas with tables. The fore and aft areas are for the French-speakers and the middle area for the English speakers. The young Swiss couple are placed with the English-speakers. During the trip, some of the English speakers use a fair bit of French and the French speakers reciprocate, so it's more amicable than might be imagined. There's a crew area at the stern including kitchen, Male and Female Western-style toilets and a small bar area. In fact, it's surprisingly comfortable.
We cast off and slip into the strong current which allows us to make good speed downstream. Initially, there are hills on our Port (left) side which is in Laos but not much sign of people. To starboard, it's much flatter and there are a fair few modern buildings. Once we pass the Thai Border, it's Laos on both sides of the river. After another few miles, we make a rather curious stop so that the boat (not its passengers) can clear customs. Whilst we wait, local children swarm across the mud and climb onto the outside of the hull with plastic baskets crammed with pre-packed snack food which they offer for sale. As we continue, the landscape becomes more rugged and the importance of the river becomes more apparent. Much of Laos lacks roads - no dirt tracks, let alone metalled roads. Getting from village to village involves walking. So, many of the villages are close to the banks of the Mekong, where boats may provide communication and fishing can provide an important source of protein. We pass net and line fisherman, working at the water's edge and other fisherman working from small boats. The Mekong is not completely benign. Underwater rocks and the strong current can whip the water into a foaming mass of cross-currents and whirlpools requiring an experienced helmsman. Our Captain does most of the work himself, with impressive economy of movement of the wheel. The villages we pass are often half-hidden in the trees and we catch glimpses of the lives of these hardy people. Anthropologists have identified over 100 ethnic groups living in Laos but the Government, in its infinite wisdom, recognises three main groups. There are a number of the elegant motorised passenger boats plying up and down the river or moored at the larger villages. Each of these boats can carry dozens of passengers. For those who can afford it, alternately, there are speedboats to act as taxis. These are small, brightly-painted craft with a 'long tail' driving a propellor. The driver, and usually his passengers, wear crash helmets and these boats race about in a cloud of spray. According to the tales, they're a very dangerous, if fast, means of transport on the river.
A very decent lunch is served - we all queue at the bar at the back of the boat to be served by the crew. Additionally, the Swiss girl and I get a delicious omelette to share, as we've indicated a vegetarian preference. For dessert, there's oranges and tiny bananas, followed by tea or coffee.
The landing place at each of the villages is no more than an exposed sandbank and, early in the afternoon, we make for one of these, bow-first, pointing upstream. A metal stake is rammed into the sand and a single mooring line makes us fast. A metal gangplank allows the passengers to get off and, led by the guides, we climb up to the village built on higher ground, watched by curious children and with hens and chickens running around. The homes are bamboo and wood, raised on piles. Some of the smaller buildings have woven bamboo sides and are the barns for rice storage. At the top of the piles which raise then from the ground, there are large wooden discs, presumably to keep out pests. Underneath one of these 'Rice Houses' is a wooden bowl and grinding pole used for grinding the daily supply of rice. large plastic sheets laid on the ground allow the rice to be dried by the sun. There are a few bicycles in evidence and one small tractor unit which can be attached to a trailer. The inhabitants, from the Khmu people, sit in the doorways of the houses watching the strange visitors. A number of the younger boys are completely naked. We're approached by a tall American, who invites us to attend a 'Book Party' at the local school, run by an educational initiative called 'Big Brother Mouse'. Click for report.
After the Book Party, we return to the boat and continue our journey downstream. As we pass the various villages, we now have a better idea of the simple lifestyles practised by the people. The scenery becomes even wilder with less flat land available for cultivation and more impenetrable jungle. Now it's possible to see areas of hillside, often some way from the village, which have been cleared for growing 'Sticky Rice' which can be grown on these sloped areas. This is a speciality of the Hmong people, who originally migrated from Southern China.
I'm impressed both by the grandeur of the scenery and the isolated lifetyles of the communities we glimpse. Often, where there's a spit of sand at the water's edge, oxen or buffalo can be seen but no sign of the people who presumably keep them. There's not much in the way of shipping but frequently local people in small boats going about their business.
There's a bit of excitement because two of our passengers are to disembark at a remote holiday lodge riverside. It's the usual arrangement: the boat drives towards the sandy bank and the engine holds the boat in position while the two go down the gangplank, to be met by someone from the lodge. Their suitcases are bundled off and two lodge porters carry them away, shoulder-high.
It's intriguing the way the fast-flowing river will suddenly change into foaming cross-currents and whirlpools, as if some great sink-hole has opened up in the river bed. In some places, we can spot the bright blue of home-made tents. This appears to be foresters harvesting teak which will presumably be collected by boat. Laos does still extract some teak, but it's controlled by and sold through the government.
In the late afternoon, large sandy scars appear in the left bank and there are signs of earth-moving machinery. We're looking at the new road, which is going to link Pakbeng to Thailand and China. It's going to be a dramatic road and you can't help feeling sad at the loss of more isolated areas, but it's probably the best chance the people of Laos will get to enter the modern world.
Another wooden village appears on the left, but this one is the Luang Say Lodge at Pakbeng, where we overnight (the ship is too small to have accommodation, although some of the crew will remain on board). About half a mile further on, we can see the concrete buildings of the little town of Pakbeng but our ship moors at the Lodge where, after a few feet of sand, proper wooden stairs lead up to the large main building of the Lodge. We're allocated to our various wooden 'chalets' which are scattered along the river bank and interconnected by wooden walkways. After a day on the boat, the chalets offer unimagined comfort - two single beds, western W.C., running (cold) water at the washbasin and a shower with warm water provided by a bottled gas wall heater. There's electric light, too (from a local generator), although it's still a little gloomy. There's no internet (of course) but I can charge my camera batteries for the next day.
After a quick shower, I decide to walk into town before it gets dark. Pakbeng is important because it's connected to the South by road and there must be a population of a thousand or so. Apart from the local markets to support the local people, it's clearly devoted itself to tourism as there are substantial concrete hotels and a wide range of restaurants offering Lao-style, Indian and Italian food. Somehow, the whole place exudes the atmosphere of a Western frontier town.
Back at the Lodge, we all take dinner together. I sit with the Big Brother Mouse people, who are overnighting at the Lodge, before continuing part of the way with us tomorrow. The food is Lao-style. By 9.0 p.m., I, and a number of others, are ready for bed and I sleep soundly. Tomorrow, we get back on the boat and continue to Luang Prabang.
