Sunday 21st September 2008
Here's what the itinerary has to say:-
Full day private tour. Discover the former Royal Palace of the now-deposed Royal family and sample a selection of the 32 gilded monasteries which make World-Heritage Listed Luang Prabang such a unique and loved locale.This morning we begin with a visit to a local market, for an experience of uniquely Asian sights and sounds. We then explore the National Museum (which once served as the Royal Palace), full of fine examples of Lao art and furniture, and the former residence of the now deposed royal family. Our sampling of Luang Prabang’s exquisite temples begins with tours of serene Wat Xieng Thong, and Wat Mai. This latter temple was spared sacking by the Chinese Black Haws in the late nineteenth century, supposedly because of its beauty and stunning design. In the afternoon, we cross the width of the Mekong River in a small boat for a walking tour of some little-visited temples away from the main part of town. At the end of the day return to Luang Prabang and ascend the steps of Phou Si, the highest point in Luang Prabang and a great place for panoramic views of this wonderful World Heritage listed town. End the day with a better appreciation of the defining sites of one of Asia’s most enchanting places.
We'll see if the place can match its advance publicity! I got up at 6.00 and went for breakfast at 6.30 a.m. Although they advertise breakfast from 6.30, it was nearer seven when everything was available. Luang Prabang seems a pretty laid-back sort of place.
Luang Prabang is a small town. It sits on the bank of the Mekong and a number of long concrete steps give access to the dozens of ferries which come and go. There’s at least one vehicle ferry to the opposite bank of the Mekong made by joining two ‘standard’ ferry hulls side-by-side, catamaran-style, with a transverse vehicle deck provided with ramps each side. The Khan River enters the Mekong here, but this now has a road bridge, carrying the road North to Pak Ou. There’s a small airport, served by modern, high-wing turboprops and some twin jets. The French built a number of colonial-style buildings, in a very restrained style, and these remain in use – other buildings are a mixture of wood and bamboo and the ubiquitous reinforced concrete. There’s a fair building boom going on to provide more facilities for tourists. The town was made a World Heritage site because of around 30 temples dotted around the town. Although the sites are hundreds of years old, most of the original temples were badly damaged or destroyed during the sacking of the town in the nineteenth century. What remains is, inevitably, rather a pastiche of old and new, but quite attractively done.
I was picked up, as arranged, and the 'bus' (actually a very nice people carrier with about 8 seats) drives about one and a half miles to the town centre. The sun is shining and it's already quite hot. We first visit the former Royal Palace which is now a museum.
This visit gives some idea of the complex and unfortunate history of Laos, which I’ve not got my head round. Too small to be a ‘major player’ politically, Laos has been fought over for centuries by its neighbours Thailand and Cambodia and, more recently, by the ‘Great Powers’. The French had a long association with the country and they actually built the Palace we're visiting for King Sisavang Vong in 1904. Laos was regarded as an agreeable posting by the French diplomats. It was far enough from Paris that they were not greatly troubled by their masters and, for long periods, not a lot happened. In the middle of the twentieth century, all this changed and the French found themselves fighting a ‘hot war’ in the area. Following the crushing defeat at Dien Bien Phu in Viet Nam, the French left the area, hastily giving Laos independence. This ushered in a period of instability during which Russia, China and America were all involved. Laos is reputed to have received more American aid than any similar country and also more American bombs when the Americans decided that a ‘scorched earth’ policy would be more effective in dealing with the Communist threat. It’s not a pretty story. The present situation remains as muddled. There’s an uncrowned 'King', currently without powers in today’s vaguely socialist state. Through it all, Laos seems to muddle on.
Photography is not permitted inside the Museum. The major rooms have been over-decorated with the rather naïve ‘glass mosaics’ that seems to appeal to the Lao taste. One reception room has a series of paintings done in the 1930s illustrating the Lao lifestyle by what I would consider a rather indifferent French artist. The bedrooms of the King and Queen, by contrast, are large but spartan. The library has a nice collection of glass-fronted bookcases of simple design holding a pathetic collection of books, mainly worthy publications presented by whatever power was pretending allegiance at the time. There are paintings of various Royals by French or Russian artists.
Outside, there is a typically epic statue of the former King defending the consitution and displaying his peaceful intentions. The statue was provided by the Russians in the ‘60s, so I suppose the strange echoes of Josef Stalin are understandable. A splendid new temple, Wat Ho Pha Bang, is being decorated in the grounds of the museum, but it’s not consecrated yet. There’s also the ‘Royal Theatre’, although the word ‘Royal’ has been excised from the wooden sign pointing to it!
I’m surprised at how many tourists are around. This is the end of the low season, but we see groups of English-, French-, Italian- and Japanese-speakers, together with a fair number of young backpackers.
There is one genuine 16th century (in parts) Monastery complex – Wat Xieng Thong – which was spared during the sacking of the city. One of the temples features long water pipes or gutters, stored in the rafters. These are used during the ceremony of the washing of the Buddha image. As we exit the complex into a back street, there are large trays at the side of the road, covered with hundreds of pieces of buffalo meat being sun-dried. Further on, there are trays of rice cakes being similarly dried.
At the next Monastery complex we visit, the young novices are clustering around for their lunch, after which only drinks are permitted until the next day. Monasteries often have a pair of long, highly-decorated, elegant racing boats which are used in two festivals during the year, each paddled by about 20 rowers plus a cox. The autumn races took place a few days ago, but the boats are now returned to their boathouses and on view. I’m amused by the modern Drum Tower. In addition to the large drum on the first floor, the ground floor is occupied by a pair of wooden bells and a car.
Finally, we go to Wat Mai Suwannaphumaham which, like most temples, is crowded with multiple Buddha images of all styles and sizes. After the sacking of the temples, the people rescued as many of the Buddha images as possible and they have been placed in the remaining Wats. The bus drops me off at the hotel so I can have a shower, a rest and maybe lunch (I settle for a pear and a cup of tea), arranging to pick me up at 2.0 p.m.
When I’m picked up, we go down to one of the landing places on the river, where one of the passenger boats is moored, full of villagers waiting to be taken up river to their homes. They will have come from their villages early this morning with produce to sell in the market and now they’re ready to go home. But the boat owner is waiting a while, in the hope of getting even more passengers. A similar-sized boat approaches and moors next to the passenger boat. That’s just for me. The guide and I have to step across the passenger boat to reach our boat, crewed by the boat owner and his young son and we set off upstream for a landing place on the opposite bank. We can see glimpses of life on some of the many passenger ferries, which are also home to the owner and his family. There’s one of the larger motorised barges which I’m told bring goods from China and go downstream to Vietnam.
Our boat is powered by a Toyota petrol engine towards the rear – I suspect it’s an adapted automotive engine. I can’t work out what seem to be some sort of home-made remote engine controls (gear? clutch?) set in the floor up at the front, where the boat driver sits. Steering is by a car steering wheel turning a wooden cone, around which are wrapped a couple of turns of nylon rope. The ends of the rope disappear and must be connected to the rudder There’s also a throttle lever which looks as if it works over a Bowden cable.
Soon, the guide and I are dropped of at a set of concrete landing steps leading up to a village of wood and bamboo houses. This side of the river is noticeably more rural. Looking across the river, there’s a good view of the landing steps at which I arrived on the Luang Say boat less than 24 hours ago. On the inland side is Wat Long Khoun, an 18th century monastery, partially restored under a French initiative. The temple features trapezoidal window and door openings and wall paintings inside and out. I’m told that one monk and one novice are currently in residence. It’s an enchanting spot and very peaceful.
We then take a footpath which leads over a bridge and past a stand of young teak trees to an adjacent village. Here, an exhausting climb leads up to Wat Chom Phet. This time, we’re accompanied by three young girls who have little to do on this hot Sunday afternoon. Once again, the restoration, currently incomplete, has been financed by the French. It’s a beautiful location and the views across the Mekong are stunning. I gingerly descend the steps to the footpath where there are trays of fruit drying, then we go down to the river past a number of modest wood and bamboo houses. They may be modest, but a number sport satellite dishes – not the discreet antenna possible in Europe but the much larger dish necessary in South-East Asia. Our boat is waiting here for us so, once we’re aboard, we set off, this time with the young boy at the helm.
Back in the main town, we make our way to the foot of Phou Si. This is the hill on the opposite side of main street from the Museum, with 300 steps to reach the small gold-painted temple at the summit. I manage it, and the view makes the climb worthwhile.
I take pictures of an aircraft landing and fail to locate my hotel (until the guide points it out). I visit the (modern) temple – the first I’ve seen in Laos with LED lights adorning the Buddha image. It’s 4.00 p.m. and, from various monasteries around the town, the drums start to beat. I don’t understand the criteria for the days on which the drums are played but, apparently, played at 4.00 a.m. and 4.00 p.m., their one function was to let the people know what time it was. This haunting sound echoes across the town for ten minutes. Descending from the hill was considerably easier than getting up and soon the bus delivers me back to the hotel.
Around 4.30 p.m., they close a section of the main street and turn it into a Night Handicraft Market. The hotel runs a shuttle bus in connection, so I take the 5.40 p.m. service into town (I’m the only passenger) to have a look. It’s just getting dark and a lot of the stalls are not yet set up. I’m intrigued by the series of snaking electric cables underfoot which allow most stalls to illuminate their stock with a single, naked light bulb, until someone trips over the cable, which seems to happen fairly frequently. Most stalls use a standard aluminium collapsible awning with a red top. The stall holders tend to underestimate the height of their foreign visitors, so I witnessed foreign men rubbing their heads after striking the aluminium frame followed by diminuitive stall holders trying to raise the roof a couple more inches. In the various side alleys, the locals continue the sale of fresh produce and the tiny eating places find plenty of takers for their wares. A lot of these stalls seem to have very little in the way of artificial lighting, so I’m not quite sure how they manage, but it all seems to work. I explore a little more of the town in the dark as intermittent sheet lightning and thunder starts. I make my way back to the Post Office, in time to catch the 7.00 p.m. return shuttle bus to the hotel. Just before the bus arrives, light rain starts, which later becomes heavy. I timed my expedition just right to avoid a soaking!
Back at the hotel, I take dinner in the covered part of the terrace of the Phou Savanh Restaurant – the thunder, lightning and rain continue. I enjoy homegrown watercress cream soup with proper French bread followed by steamed fresh water fish fillet with a saffron risotto and lemon butter sauce accompanied by Nature’s Son et Lumiere show. The hotel is on a hill above the town and the terrace commands a broad view of the sky and the distant mountains. The temple of Phou Si is in the middle of the visual field, floodlit by courtesy of the hotel and appears to float in the dark sky, until the lightning silhouettes the hill and the distant mountains. Finally, at about 8.30 p.m. the lights of the hotel flicker but stay on. The floodlighting of Phou Si is extinguished, to come back on about ten minutes later. An eerie experience. I’m not surprised to discover that the internet has stopped working following this demonsration of Nature’s power. Incidentally, I had the Duo of Catalane Cream and Chocolate for dessert, then returned to my room to sleep soundly.
