The River of Dreams | Travel Blog

?The River of Dreams.

Laos, population seven and a half million, pretty much all of them cheerful, hard working and utterly charming. If gentle friendliness could be bottled and sold Laos would be among the richest countries on earth. Sadly, for reasons we will look at later it is amongst the poorest.

So, here we go again. The lifting of Covid restrictions has meant that Liz and I can finally take our much delayed journey through South East Asia, focussing principally on Laos and Cambodia.

Bookending this nearly five week trip are brief stays in Bangkok for practical reasons to do with direct flights and all that. Our journey will then take us from remote Northern Laos, south to the Mekong river, then further and further south, always following the Mekong until we cross the border into Cambodia.

At this point I cant really say what our Cambodia leg of the trip will look like since, true to recent form, we are backpacking our way around the area with very little in the way of pre-planned or pre booked transport or accommodation, preferring instead to see where things take us. Indeed, as I am writing this Liz (my lovely wife, travel agent and journey planner in chief) is on the other side of our balcony trying to figure out how we are going to get from Van Vieng to Vientiane and later from various possible points and across the land border into Cambodia. Watch this space.

Anyone who read my Sri Lanka piece may recall that my journey there started rather badly when a drunken German splashed Tikka Marsala sauce all over my linen trousers, stress ahoy. Happily no such dramas this time, our journey with Eva Air was pleasant, comfortable and best of all, incident free.

Three nights in Bangkok at the very enjoyable Anantara Riverside gave us the chance to acclimatise before the proper exploring kicked o?, and the opportunity to have a look around a city that I have long wanted to visit. This time the twelve hour eastward journey and seven hour time di?erence really took its toll, and we both felt heavily jet lagged and out of sorts for the few days that we were there. That said, and even a taking into account our slightly diminished energy, I have to confess that we felt Bangkok to be very hard to love.

Why would that be? I love Thailand and the Thais. This place is di?erent. It is vast, incredibly noisy and brash. Whisper it, but since Thailand was the only nation in South East Asia never to be colonised by a western power it lacks that charming relic, the colonial Old Town which is so much a feature of capital cities around the world. Instead Bangkok relies on a large collection of highly colourful Buddhist temples, a modest old town area and a great deal of sprawling ugliness, pretty much as far as the eye can see, since this is a really, really big city.

Admittedly, the high rise landscape has an energy of it’s own, suggestive of economic growth and ambition, but it lacks the humanity and dramatic beauty of London, the cohesiveness and organisation of New York or the beguiling charm of Paris. In these parts it seems that sentiment for preserving old buildings is not something to be encouraged. Brash is king.

Still, we weren’t here to see Thailand, soon it was time to get the early flight from Bangkok to Luang Prabang which is in central northern Laos. The weather broke on our way to the airport producing the kind of rain that prompted Noah to start building his boat. Unbelievable sheets of the stu? coming down with real force. Arriving at the drop o? I opened the taxi door a crack and was instantly soaked. At least it was nice and warm.

Lao Air is a very pleasant airline with a modern fleet and cheerful sta?. Best of all they give you free Beer Lao to help the journey along. In no time at all we were landing in Luang Prabang’s quirky little provincial airport and thus began the Laos part of our journey.

Nong Khiaw was our first destination, about three and a half hours north of our landing point. Reaching it was a bit of an eye opener, the state of the roads is, to put it mildly, challenging, made worse by a seemingly endless stream of huge six axle trucks grinding their way north to the border with China, carrying all manner of agricultural produce, timber, gypsum and sundry other exports. Coming the other way the same volume of trucking carried the corresponding loads south from China. Whilst this trade is vital to Laos the roads upon which it relies are completely

unsuited to it, being mostly just wide enough to let two normal sized vehicles pass. Equally the e?ect on the communities, of which there are many, that live along the route is dismal. Noise, dust, bottlenecks and a destroyed pavement are the price paid for this surge in trade. We both stared in astonishment at groups of school kids, some only just better than toddlers, walking and chatting their way to and from school as a seemingly endless procession of these behemoths passed them just inches away. No pavement, just shared space. Around here though, no biggie it seems. Comparisons with our own obsession with dropping children directly at the school gate might seem an easy target but it does make you think. From a very early age children here are taught that they have to be both self reliant and to pull their weight helping out in the family business. It’s so healthy. Before the border between the two countries opened fully to trade it took two hours to get from Luang Prabang to Nong Khiaw. Now it takes nearly four.

How well worth it the trip is, however. Nong Khiaw is a delightfully situated village at the bottom of steep mountains with the Nam Ou river running through it. Very much a destination for backpackers wanting to get away from the more well trodden route it’s a delightful mix of guesthouses, casual restaurants, bars and many, many street food vendors. Our accommodation was the charmingly located but very basic Riverside Lodge. Run by a Danish guy doing the whole alternative life thing (immediately nicknamed Shane the Dane by us) it boasts stilted bungalows right on the river’s edge with spectacular views.

In travel you do have to take the rough with the smooth however, and this was definitely a bit rough. On opening the bathroom door for the first time I was confronted by a cockroach the size of a Pit Bull Terrier. (I exaggerate of course, but he was big). Immediately named Colin he kept us company for the two nights that we stayed there.

The walking locally is challenging since there are virtually no flat bits in the Northern Lao mountains. The views, on the other hand, are spectacular. An hour and a half uphill hike to the best local viewpoint was tough going, including some rope sections, but well worth the e?ort. The locals are constructing a small shelter at the top which requires bringing cement from the village to the peak. We found the climb hard going in proper hiking gear and carrying not much more than water. How humbling it was to see local men and women carrying fifty kilo bags of cement from the base to the peak, their loads slung on their back and supported by a strap around the forehead. Shod in flip flops or even barefoot these tough tough people climbed and descended the mountain over and over all day. Words fail me.

Upstream from Nong Khiaw, about an hour in a longboat- essentially a dugout canoe with a bit of a long tail put-put engine strapped to the back- is the lovely and very remote village of Muang Ngoi. Own up time here, chugging up the river with the water just inches from the edge of the rickety and, to be honest, exceptionally uncomfortable boat certainly channelled the whole Indiana Jones thing. The river here is lovely and quite empty. Water Bu?aloes loll contentedly on its banks, or sometimes just stand in the stream up to their chins, flapping lazy ears and chewing slowly. Some fishing takes place, and mothers bring both laundry and children to the river. The laundry gets beaten and the children get washed and shampooed. And always laugh, wave and have a smile for passing travellers, bless them.

Whilst the scenery is wonderful, this is still not a country without issues. Most of Northern Laos has been denuded of all wildlife. Seriously, I have never seen anywhere with less diversity of animals. On questioning our guide, the rather brilliant Wednesdays (yes, that was his name) I did get to understand the Laos bigger picture. Some context. Laos won its independence from France in 1953 after the french were defeated by Ho Chi Minh’s forces in Vietnam at the battle of Dien Bien Phu. The french left all of South East Asia and Laos became a sleepy but prosperous backwater ruled over by a popular monarchy.

This situation lasted until 1975 when, following neighbouring North Vietnam’s victory over the American backed south, Lao’s communists, with the encouragement and backing of communist China, launched their own insurrection. Destabilised by catastrophic levels of American bombing, particularly in the north, the country and its monarch fell quickly to the Chinese backed forces, thus the brutal Pathet Lao party came to power. What happened next is depressingly familiar.

The usual Marxist-Leninist playbook was brought in. Centralised planning forcing farmers to grow crops to quotas imposed by the party, irrespective of how unsuitable or unrealistic they were.

Everyone lost their property and businesses and all (except the party elite, obviously) were forced to work in collectives that were hideously ine?cient. Any dissent or even suggested improvement was met by the oh so familiar communist dictatorship plan A. Brutal repression, torture and executions. Result? Famine, particularly in the rural areas and farming communities.

Starving people will do anything to survive, and, as Wednesdays explained to me, in this case they turned to the jungle and local wildlife as their only practical food source. Completely Ignored by the party leadership their only option was to kill and eat anything that they could get their hands on. All the monkeys, bears, birds, bats, snakes, ground dwelling mammals, spiders, even butterflies, gone, thanks to an ideology which anyone could see, even then, didn't work, to say the least.

Nowadays Laos a?ects communism in the same way that some in the west do. They talk a good fight but really couldn’t do without the benefits of capitalism. Private health care and private members clubs for the leadership? Yes please! Of course, they hang the hammer and sickle everywhere, mostly to keep China onside, but the reality is that they are about as communist as Monaco. A number of Laotians have said to me that they don't understand why the country is still supposedly a communist state. Simple answer chaps, it means that the one party system allows your leadership to keep their snout in the trough without having to bother with tiresome details like free elections. Yep, that’s it in a nutshell, but better not say it too loudly round here.

Happily, nowadays most Laotians are able to run their own enterprises and access vital capital, and thus the searing poverty is easing, but make no mistake, this is still a very poor country.

Bidding farewell to our new friend Wednesdays we journeyed back down scary road following the Nam Ou River to Luang Prabang.

The former capital of Laos, and French regional administrative centre this place is a jewel.

Nestled on a peninsula between the Nam Ou and Mekong the old town is full of beautiful colonial architecture, lovely streets, riverside walks and great restaurants and bars. We absolutely loved it. Lingering French elegance combines with an Asian energy that is hard to resist. Rickety bamboo bridges span the smaller Nam Ou while converted rice barges take visitors on sunset cruises along the vastly wide Mekong. The night market is something to behold, complete sensory overload. Huge numbers of food stalls selling everything from the tempting to (to us anyway) the downright disgusting- deep fried butterfly larvae anyone?-feed crowds of locals and tourists alike. It’s chaotic, loud, sometime smelling good, sometimes less so but always utterly brilliant.

Succumbing to the need to get on the river we went along with the tourist thing and booked a sunset river cruise. Needless to say, the cruise itself was a little tacky, it wouldn't be Asia otherwise, but our softly spoken and immensely kind guide Sieng did his very best to ensure an enjoyable experience. Gosh the Mekong is big and very lovely, although at this point rather polluted as the Chinese have no qualms in sending all their filth downstream. As Sieng said to me, what choice do we have but to eat the fish? We know it’s polluted, but without it, no fish.

The return journey threw up a new one for both of us. Some columns of smoke had been showing here and there on the hills situated on the far side of the river, away from the town. As dusk and then darkness feel it became evident that this was a considerable forest fire. Before long ash was raining down on our boat whilst the flames consumed the hillside not a hundred meters away. The fire grew and grew until it covered most of the visible riverbank, at least a couple of kilometres in length. Wind would occasionally gust the heat and smell in our direction yet no one seemed particularly concerned, despite its evident malevolent fury.

Sieng explained that although that side of the river was much less settled there were villages there. The fire control protocol consisted of two stages. As the flame approaches the village headman orders everyone to pour water on their houses. Since most of the houses are bamboo sided with palm roofs this is unlikely to be a successful strategy. Plan B is to tell everyone to get out and come back and rebuild once the fire has gone. Apparently, if it gets really serious soldiers are sent in to beat at it with palm leaves. Laotian civil defence.

Sieng took us to a locals restaurant for supper after our river trip. As is always the way, we initially felt slightly ill at ease walking into what appeared to be part garage, part someone’s private house with a few of those low level tables scattered about, the type you have to sit at cross legged on the ground. Since my knees were replaced this is impossible for me so it was a great relief to find that they had one western style table with actual chairs, and not just the infant school sized ones you find at all the street food places. Having overcome our initial reservations we were treated to a magnificent feast. A bucket of searingly hot charcoal is brought to your table and placed in a hole in the middle. On it is placed a contraption which looks a bit like an inverted colander with a deep trough surrounding it. Water is poured into the trough and egg plus all manner of vegetables and (in our case) finely sliced chicken is added to make a delicious soup. On the domed part of it fat is melted then more slices of meat added to BBQ grill over the heat from the coals. More and more food is brought until you can barely move, all washed down by lashings of Beer Lao. In a land of great food the Lao BBQ is king.

Interestingly Sieng’s family are animists, not the more common Buddhists of the area. He is from a very poor farming background and came to the city to learn English as a teenager as a way of trying to escape the poverty trap. Describing his childhood and his parents tough farming existence he didn't hold back. As a child, after school him and his mates would take long bamboo poles into the jungle and catch the spiders in the trees, stu? their pockets full of them then take them home to be fried up as a tasty pre-supper treat. His parents still have to draw their water needs from a well every day and when asked what they did for bathroom facilities he said simply ‘they use the jungle’. Once again, the famine from the past casts a long shadow.

These guys eat literally everything that isn’t poisonous since, as Sieng pointed out, without this we would have had nothing. Nowadays it may not be necessary but old habits die hard.

Our time in Luang Prabang was up. Leaving was a wrench since the place really does get under your skin, but move on we must. Our first train journey of the trip beckons, taking us from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, some two hundred kilometres to the south. Previously this journey would have taken about six or seven hours by bus or car, the state of the roads being what they are, but the Chinese have built Laos a shiny new railway that connects the north at the Chinese border with Vientiane, the Lao capital. On the one hand this monumental feat of engineering has transformed north/south travel here, and it is very impressive and e?cient, but as always with China, beware the pitfalls. To explain. Laos has no money. An ine?cient and corrupt communist regime has ensured that this continues to be the case.

It therefore follows that such a multi billion pound scheme would be completely out of the question. Enter the Chinese who propose a joint venture, the Laos China Railway. Otherwise known as we now own your arse. So China pony’s up eighty percent of the cost of building the thing, with Laos only having to find twenty percent. Except. Laos don't even have that bit, so China lend them that part. Sure, the line gets built, and boy does it look Chinese, not Laotian, but the debt Laos is now landed with is seen by the international money markets as unsustainable, because it is, and so their government debt credit rating is downgraded to CCC, making borrowing from any source other than China prohibitively expensive. The Chinese honey trap.

Thus they impose their hegemony on those countries unwise enough to dine with the devil.

Chinese regional perfidity notwithstanding we were very pleased to travel in quiet comfort and at very high speed, arriving at our next destination in just under an hour. Vang Vieng is, candidly, an ugly town infested by backpackers all seemingly intent on getting drunk and swapping diseases at every possible opportunity. That said, its setting is truly magnificent, nestled on the banks of the Nam Song river and surrounded by towering karst limestone peaks that soar almost vertically for hundreds of meters. This range has the mystical quality of an antique Chinese print and peak after peak seem to merge with the distance and the sky to create a sense of the infinite and truly ancient. What a view, particularly from our spectacularly located Riverside Boutique Hotel which boasted front row seats to the best view in town, if not the whole of Laos.

Dune buggys are a popular way of getting around here and are very reasonably priced so we hired one and went exploring. To get to the ‘buggy’ side of the river you must cross what is locally, and accurately known as the rickety bridge, a river crossing of broken planks, rusting steel and a few cables that would be immediately condemned in pretty much any European country.

Yet here it’s a main arterial route in and out of town. Crossing it on foot for the first time can be a little unsettling but you soon get used to it.

The buggys here are fun. Basically a welded roll cage bolted to a chassis with oversized wheels and jacked up suspension with a big throaty V8 slung on the front and a strait through exhaust. Crude, maybe, but ideal for exploring the rough mountain terrain whilst also putting a big silly grin on your face. O? the main roads we went, up and down ever narrower and steeper tracks into the midst of a landscape of such stunning natural beauty it almost defies description. As in the rest of Laos there are water bu?aloes everywhere. Avoiding them is easy enough but not necessarily so with their shit. One special feature of our buggy was that it had practically no floor in the footwells so anything you drove over ended up in the cabin and all over you, including copious quantities of bu?alo shit. We both had to change when we got back.

A ten kilometre kayak down the river valley was also most enjoyable, negotiating a series of small rapids and enjoying the tranquility. As you approach town towards the end of the trip it’s all change, with bars pounding out loud music crowded together on both banks and the river filled with roaringly drunk sunburned backpackers floating in inflated rubber tubes. This combination of water, sun and alcohol has, in the past, led to a number of sad fatalities so, apparently the authorities have cracked down and got them to take the health and safety thing a bit more seriously. You couldn’t prove it by me. God knows what it was like beforehand.

Vientiane, the capital city awaited us so we reboarded Train of Perfidity and headed further south. One night was all we had planned since we were taking an early flight the next morning. Having spent an afternoon looking around the place we concluded that one night was more than enough. Frankly it’s quite ugly, very dirty, noisy and has the tackiest night market in Asia, which is quite some boast. On the flip side our hotel did have a very cool 10th floor rooftop bar and restaurant with cooling breezes and a stunning view.

The ever pleasant and reliable Air Laos whisked us south early the next morning, to our final destination in Laos, Champasak. Set on a remote part of the Mekong it is quietly rural and very pretty, but here the river really steals the show. At well over a mile wide, it is dotted with beautiful islands and flanked by sandy beaches. Ancient rock formations, worn into endless fascinating shapes by countless wet season floods line the banks or sit proudly from the water, timeless, patient and indi?erent to the human world. Occasional fishing craft putter by but other than that it’s all about birdsong, chirping crickets and quiet serenity. Our beautiful accommodation is riverside and features a wonderful view across the river and Dong Dae island. What a place to unwind for a few days. Ancient temple ruins and hikes into the countryside amongst the rice paddies complete the picture. I don't often say this but throw in a really good restaurant, lovely sta? and it genuinely is pretty much perfect.

Here in Laos the Mekong is everything. It is food, water, transportation, irrigation, tourism, it is mystically important, a national border, I could go on, it’s importance to this poor yet endlessly beguiling country is impossible to overstate. It quite literally is the lifeblood, the heart, the soul of the nation. Mother, father, carer and giver of life, it is all that and more, with a dreamlike quality that seeps into the fabric of your being and nestles into your heart.

Laos is an emotion as well as a country. A dark and troubling past is never far away. Despite recent e?orts by the US government unexploded ordnance is still an issue in many places, particularly in the north. Dragged into a conflict that they wanted no part of by a cynical North Vietnam, then savagely bombed by American forces as a result the subsequent instability is hardly a great surprise. Decades of economic misrule by a negligent socialist government have added to the problems faced here. And yet. Here is somewhere full of cheerful super friendly people.

Optimism is never far from the surface and I have never seen such happy, confident and engaged children, always waving and calling their cheerful ‘sabaidee’ (hello, greetings, good day! All rolled into one). This is a place of historical imperfection made perfect by the tolerant generosity and warmth of its people. Kobjai lai lai Laos. You won. My heart is yours.

Cambodia next…