Lazing in Laos - Tuesday, Dec-1

It is 8 o’clock in the morning and I’m sitting on the jump seat of a minivan with 8 others and the driver. We are on our way up north to Nong Khiaw, a village on the banks of the Nam Ou river. I’ve been entranced by this small village after finding a photo on Flickr of a bridge across the Nam Ou, a high Chinese-built concrete span between Nong Khiaw and the neighboring village of Ban Sop Houn; and in the background, a ridge of green-covered limestone mountains. Every time I’d get a little down, I’d look at the photo. It was like medicine, this image. No matter how miserable my day was, I’d look at the photo and think, “I’m going to be here — right here — in a few months.”

We’re 45 minutes into our drive and I can barely hold my cup of coffee. I’ve got to pee. I try to think about other things, but every bump in the road reminds me that my bladder is full. I try to distract myself by counting satellite dishes in villages, or chuckling to myself over a unusual village name. Lardkok, indeed. I look at my watch every five minutes and groan until I can’t bear it any longer and tap our driver on the shoulder and point outside. “Toilet?” I hate to be that one person who makes the whole group come to a stop, but almost everyone gets out and makes for a patch of banana trees that offers the women in our group a modicum of privacy. By noon, and one more toilet stop later, we arrive at Nong Khiaw.

The first introduction to Nong Khiaw is hardly anything to write home about. There a bus station and a few snack stalls on the dusty road. Highway 1 runs through it and crosses the bridge, and continues for six hours on a snaky mountain road until it reaches Sam Neua and finally Vietnam. I hear the accommodations are more picturesque in Ban Sop Houn, so I walk across the bridge and run into a young woman and her male companion walking lazily across. I ask them where they are staying and she points to the first set of bungalows on the right. Do you like it there? I ask. Awesome, she responds.

‘How long have you been on the road?”

“For months. We live in China.” They are either American or Canadians, so I ask if they are teachers. She shakes her head, so I inquire what they do in China. “Stuff.” She is being rather cagey. Maybe she’s a trustafarian and reluctant to admit it.

“Oooh, stuff…my favorite.” I croon in false effusiveness. I leave them behind and head toward the bungalows to get a room for the next few nights.

CT Bungalows charges 50,000 kip per night, but I’m not thrilled about the squat toilet once I unlock the bungalow and take a look inside. I leave my gear there while I go looking for another place, and settle on the Sunset Bungalows next door. To get there, you have to go down the road about 50m and turn right, following a dirt track. So while the bungalows are technically next to one another, you have to take a few twists and turns to get there. Sunset Bungalows cost twice as much, plus 50,000 kip for breakfast, but the bungalows are really clean and have western toilets. Sometimes, you just have to splurge a little. You know you’ve been in Laos too long when you think $17 USD for a bungalow with a queen size bed, mosquito net, ensuite bathroom and a hammock on my veranda is a bit spendy. Did I mention the view? It’s idyllic.

After accepting the room and getting my gear, I soon meet my neighbor, Peps, who comes over and introduces himself. He’s visiting from Germany and has made Thailand a regular destination for the past few years. This is his first time in Laos, too. He excuses himself and goes for a walk while I continue to unpack my gear.

It’s one o’clock in the afternoon and I make my way to Deen’s, an Indian restaurant on Highway 13. Peps is eating across the road at Mekala and waves as I pass by, hoisting his Beerlao in a gesture of toasting. All the restaurants are open air establishments. At Deen’s I order chicken korma, rice, a pineapple lassi, and an iced Lao coffee. I feel immensely sluggish, perhaps because I woke up so early when the monks in Luang Prabang started to beat the prayer drum at 4 am.

After lunch I make my way to the boat pier and see about putting my name on the list. I’ve decided to take the scenic route back to Luang Prabang in a few days, but the list only gets posted two days in advance. I’ll be here for three days. I wander around the dusty main street of Nong Khiaw, meeting lots of children who want their picture taken. A couple of the more forward young boys put their hands out and ask for kip, but I just give them high-fives and they soon forget to beg and are far more entertained slapping my hand. I don’t believe they are beggars; they just want to engage me and that’s the only thing they know I will understand.

I return to the Sunset Guesthouse and find Peps hanging out on his hammock. I’m about to offer to bring back a coupe of beers. He beats me to it. “How about a sunset beer?”

He goes to the main road and soon returns with two cold Beerlaos, and we sits and watch the sun set behind the imposing mountains before us, reflected in the Nam Ou river below us. We soon discover we are in the same line of work: we are both freelance web designers.

We both have dinner together and talk about our work, commiserating about the same problems. Apparently, clients are the same whether you’re in the US, Germany, or Malaysia. During dinner, I feed all my chicken bits to two hungry kittens that have easily found a mark with me. The littlest one, a dark tortoiseshell, makes the saddest possible face I have ever seen. He’s very good at looking pathetic, and later goes and works another table. I guess this is their regular racket. The orange tabby, however, hops on my lap and I give him a good scratching while he purrs contentedly.

On the way back I meet two Catalonians, Nuria and Alfonso, who just arrived from Luang Nam Tha. They were supposed to be in Nong Khiaw by 3pm but their bus kept breaking down along the way. It’s dark out, and they look tired and disoriented, so I point them to the Sunset Guesthouse. It’s no fun stumbling around in the dark on a rutted road looking for a place to sleep.

It’s not even 10 o’clock, but I’m ready for bed. It’s pretty cold up here in Nong Khiaw, and the bungalow doesn’t do much to keep out the cold, so I pile on four layers of clothes and pull the hood over my head. It’s too cold even for mosquitoes, but I still tuck the netting all around the mattress. There are other crawly things around, and I don’t want to wake up with a 6-inch centipede in my bed.

Tags: Laos, Nong Khiaw