Bangkok to Laos Part 2. Mekong meandering.

10th March 2008

The Mekong river flows from the mountains of Tibet, separates Myanmar from Lao, flows along the Thai/Lao border then ducks inland to Luang Prabang continuing on through Lao to Vientiane. The Thai/Lao border is once again formed by the Mekong for hundreds of miles before is flows through Cambodia, Vietnam then into the China sea. During the dry season the river decreases to a comparatively small flow of water. In Lao there is still plenty of water for the shallow draft river boats to transport people and goods up and down the river although roads have improved in the last few years so bus traffic is becoming more common. We asked our landlady at Huay Xai how long by bus it took her to visit her family in Vientiane. With a philosophical shrug she said, "the buses break many times so sometimes long time, sometimes short time"

Along with 120 other backpackers we arrived at the Huay Xai "jetty", when our passports had been checked our boat ticket receipts turned into tickets. The "jetty" was the sandy bank with a narrow plank across to our 25 metre long, 4 metre wide river boat. The handful of comfortable airline style seats had gone to the early risers, no seat numbers here. The majority of seats were similar to the ones my grandparents would have sat on at school, hard wooden seats with upright backs and these were built for Asian bottoms. The wise among us had bought extra cushions from the stalls along the river, we luckily got a seat with a cushion already attached. I guess during the past months of sitting on slim cockpit cushions we had unknowingly been conditioning our bottoms for this very trip. All the packs and bags were stowed towards the stern under and above the floor boards. At our feet we had just enough room for our day packs with the required mayonnaise dripping salad filled crunchy lunchtime baguettes. The harbour master came on board and counted 120 people, too many only 90 allowed so 40 or so wise people clambered over to the next boat. Not sure when that boat was to leave we opted to stay where we were. They left the same time, got to Prabang first and had heaps of room to stretch out, oh well we did meet some great people as the current took us down river.

The image of backpackers used to be tanned young things lugging huge packs, visiting out of the way places, thumbing through well worn Lonely Planets as they waited for the next bus/boat/plane/train to take them to the next adventure. Now these 20 to 30 year olds are joined by another group of backpackers, our generation the 50 to 75 year olds. We also thumb through well worn Lonely Planets, we all get on well together swapping traveling tales and tips, the generation gap is invisible the only difference being that our bags are lighter because of strength or experience. Many of us have our children traveling or living in foreign countries it's nice to mix with the younger generation, perhaps it helps us not to miss our own kids so much. Every major language of the world seemed to ebb and flow throughout the boat as we looked out on the sandy banks of the Mekong.

The Mekong came as a bit of a surprise to me, I hadn't really thought about it much but had images of lush green vegetation down to the waters edge. That may be the case during the rains, the Mekong we traveled on had wide white sandy banks interspersed with huge rocky outcrops as well as sharp rocks peaking out from under the water creating narrow passes and swirling rapids. Water buffalo lay on the river bank next to women panning for gold, little kids waved from high on the rocks, villagers waited by water for the ferry to pull onto the sand so they could jump on quickly dragging boxes and kids with them. Green gardens grew on the sandy banks fenced off from the roving buffalo. Every now and then we could see villages high up on the bank among lush green trees, I suppose just out of reach of a rain filled Mekong.

Pak Beng arrived just in time, after 6 hours on those seats bottoms were becoming painful, something more than walking to the loo or a stretch up and down the aisle was needed. In fading light we struggled up the steep steps, I faltered on the last one and managed to fall up on to the bank, no damage done just a little to the pride. Pak Beng is a town of Guesthouses, not a lot to do except have dinner, the generators shut down about 10 so no late nights.

Early breakfast, collect our ordered filled rolls for lunch and down to the boat for the last leg of the journey to Luang Prabang. Unfortunately the majority of people were earlier than us, and only one boat, so we made our way to the back of the boat and sat on the floor near the engine. Apart from the engine noise, being late ended up a good thing. Sitting on the floor meant more room to stretch and move around. The engine noise could be escaped by going right to the stern and sitting in the galley. When not transporting people, the family lived on board. The equipment, food and charcoal fire indicated that it was a frugal lifestyle. Some river boats we passed had satellite TV dishes, not this one. The family tooth brushes where on the wall along with cooking pans and drying washing. Chillies and dried fish stored on open shelves ready for the next meal. The water kettle sat bubbling away on the charcoal fire for the whole trip. The water was used to fill thermoses for the coffee that was for sale. I wasn't sure whether the water was river water or filtered. There only seemed to be only one bottle of filtered water and as the thermos was refilled many times my suspicion was it was Mekong water. I had one cup of coffee whatever water it was no ill effects were felt.

Luang Prabang came into sight about 4.30pm, everyone was itching to get off but it took time to get bags and walk the plank onto another riverbank "jetty". The Guest House touts were there to bamboozle the weary with prices, addresses and directions. We ended up at a nice place but were "had" getting there. The guest house tout said we needed a taxi, he should know, right! Wrong! They have their own way of sharing the tourist dollar (kip in Lao) around. We could have walked there in 5 mins maximum. On the bright side we did get a tour of the old town via the one way system and it didn't blow the budget!!

Any one going to Luang Prabang allow plenty of time, lots to see around the town and the atmosphere is relaxing, peaceful. Lao is a third world country one of the poorest in the world but far cleaner and pleasant than most SE Asian countries I have experienced so far. Luang Prabang is, I think a good place for beginners to Asia. The old town is a Unesco protected site, no buildings over 3 stories, no tour buses allowed. The old French colonial buildings are being restored if not already and mainly used for guesthouses. There is a range of restaurants for all tastes, no western fast food in sight. At night we sat under fairy lights overlooking the Mekong to eat meals cooked on basic charcoal braziers (some made from American bomb casings) for breakfast we had coffee and croissants in the modern French bakery. The handcrafts and silver jewelery for sale at the markets is good value and well made. I was a bit skeptical about the cushion covers, quilts and bags there were so many the same I thought they were mass produced over the border in China. That was until I saw the ladies on the stalls sewing these things by hand as they waited for customers. Luang Prabang has many beautiful Wat. The oldest was built in 1560 and is a protected UNESCO site. I also found a Wat that had restoration work paid for by New Zealand, there is a lot of aid poured into Lao. It was pleasing to be able to read where some of it goes. As there are many Wat in the area there are also many, many monks, a large majority seem to be novice monks, teenage boys spending a few months learning or preparing to spend the rest of their lives as a Buddhist monk. Buddhist monks throughout a large part of Asia spend the early morning walking the streets around their Wat to collect the daily offerings, without these many would not eat. In Prabang the monks go around the streets between 6am and 7am collecting alms. The Buddhist faithful and some tourists kneel on mats along the road with their baskets of rice, fruit, biscuits, whatever they decide to give that day. The monks walk past in lines of about 10 or 12, oldest in front the youngest at the back. I figured out each group comes from a different Wat. The two mornings I watched there were about 8 groups walking up our road. They each have a big stainless steel container which is filled with rice etc as they walk past. The orange of their garments against the early morning light is a photographers dream. These guys don't stand around so photos have to be taken quickly. The slap slap of their bare feet on the cold road says this is business no mucking around, at 6 in the morning these monks must be hungry especially the teenagers, aren't teenage boys always hungry? It is a very solemn affair but I got a few shy smiles from the youngest ones.

The first morning I watched this procession the monks received food, naturally, I thought that's the way it is, around here people feed the monks. On the second day I saw something a little different. A small boy of about 7 or 8 came and sat by the road, a little away from other people. He placed a big empty basket in front of himself and waited patiently, as far as I could see he had nothing to give. The first group of monks eventually turned the corner into our road, the young boy knelt patiently, his hands clasped together in a wai or prayer. Nothing happened the first few walked past and did not seem to look at him and then one of the younger monks paused dropping a ball of rice into the his basket. From then on one or two monks from every group dropped something into his basket , by the end his basket was full and he heaved his basket up, walked off to his house which was the poorest in the street. His family fed for the day.

A few miles outside Prabang down a windy bone shaking road was an elephant rehabilitation centre where we went for an elephant ride along a river and through some jungle (trees). Over lunch we could watch a baby elephant having a swim and a little training from his mahout. We wandered some of the many Wat and then walked along the Mekong watching local boats going about their normal daily business. We found the harbour masters hut, he was sitting in the shade watching the river traffic, it didn't seem too arduous a job. Alan tried some local whisky that came out of a large jar that had numerous snakes and scorpions preserved in it. According to the purveyor of this golden liquid it would make him very strong, no difference was noticed, good or bad, although perhaps his cold got a little better!! We had noticed bottles of local whisky for sale and in each bottle was a small snake. Imagine trying to get that back into NZ!!

We eventually tore ourselves away from Luang Prabang and got the bus to Vientiane, the capital of Lao. Flying is expensive in Lao, (an inbuilt safety mechanism to keep us away from dodgy areoplanes??) it takes 5 days by boat if you can find passenger boat, the road is sealed now so buses have taken over. The first half of the trip is very windy, up and over steep hills. Villages clung to the side of the road, a steep drop on one side, large buses and four by fours on the other. Not a lot of places for the kids and chickens to play. We descended down into the Mekong valley again, the temperature rose several degrees, jeans were now packed away.

Vientiane like Prabang is built along the Mekong. At Vientiane the river bed is wide, flat and dry for hundreds of metres, a glimpse of grey blue river in the distance. There is not a lot to see at Vientiane but still a nice place, we hired push bikes for a day and rode the flat wide streets. The city has a copy of the Arc de Triomphe called the Patuxai, it commemorates the Lao who died in pre revolutionary wars. Cement donated by the USA for a new airport run way was diverted to the project which was built in 1969. Talking about the USA there seemed to be few Americans traveling in Lao may be it has something to do with their illegal bombing of Lao perhaps there is still a bit of guilt around. There a remainders of those bombings with the use of bomb casings for anything from charcoal braziers to flower vases in temples.

Another overnight train got us from Lao to Bangkok, 3 hours late meant we had a speedy taxi ride to the airport to catch our flight to Phuket. The taxi driver obviously enjoyed the opportunity to speed weaving in and out of the traffic arriving at the airport with a minute to go before last check in.

Our trip finished as it had begun by meeting an interesting man, this time on the plane and not a monk, a Thai business man. Suphawat was only in Phuket for 24 hours but he found time to take us back to the boat at Ratanachai, well out of his way. As with many Thai people we meet they love to practice their English and often can't do enough for us. We were envious of Suphawat as he was about to leave on a 3 week trip driving to Tibet, what a great experience it would be. When he heard about our lifestyle he in turn was envious of us. We quickly showed him the boat and as with most people we meet we would like to meet him again. Suphawat if you are reading this we hope your trip was great and we may take up your offer to see you in Bangkok, we would love to hear about the trip to Tibet.

Back in Phuket meant back to work on Talitha , finish the antifouling and get back in the water. That's for the next blog.

Back in Thailand so it is sawat-dii kha until next time.