Our evening flight from Hanoi to Luang Prabang was undoubtedly the smallest aircraft we had ever flown in (capacity 60.....passengers 17). When we arrived at our destination, it was pitch black and the only way to get into town (old quarter) was on a sawngthaew (converted pick-up truck with 2 wooden benches down either side). The driver was amicable and took us to his guesthouse where we crashed out for the night.
The next morning we could see why UNESCO has placed this city on its World Heritage list - delicately decorated buddhist wats (temples) surrounded by emerald green mountains. Luang Prabang had a unique village feel to it and the young orange-robed monks roaming around gave it a sense of charm and isolation. Everything was at a slow pace (even moreso than Vietnam) and the people clean and respectful to the extent that you couldn't wear shoes inside guesthouses and many shops. Our first full day was spent exploring the characteristic roads and sampling the local cuisine. At night we walked through the very peaceful Hmong market which was home to many tough little negotiatiors (some as young as 12) where Preya finally met her match. It was very easy to get caught up in the lathargic atmosphere which is why we decided to spend a good few days here.
The next 3 days we continued down our streak of laziness, but managed to visit some of the sights including Luang Prabang Museum (a converted palace which had previously been home to the King of Laos) and Luang Prabang's most magnificent temple, Wat Xieng Thong, which was situated at the northern tip of the peninsula where the Mekong and Nam Khan rivers met.
But relaxation had had its day and the following morning we decided to get off the beaten track. We hired ourselves a couple of mountain bikes and a guide, and cycled a hard 40km. The initial 10km took us up some steep, scenic mountainous terrain where we visited a wat. There, our knowledgeable guide Chongken (we called him Ken), explained the daily rituals of monks. He himself had been a monk for 5 years but had returned to the outside world in order to support his family (his monthly salary was only $40). We continued our cycling along some dirt-tracks by the Mekong River to visit the grave of Henri Mouhot (French explorer of Ankor Wat) and thereafter visited an elephant camp. Here we had a refreshing lunch whilst chatting to a scottish girl volunteer who was attending to some of the elephants. The riding was becoming quite intense, and just as the storms were above us, we arrived at a small village where we sought shelter at Ken's cousin's home. It felt surreal being in such a remote place; watching the local people bathe in the thunderous downpours whilst we patiently waited for the storm to pass from within their wooden huts. The final 12km felt like an eternity, but as we crossed the finish line, we had a huge feeling of self-satisfaction and rewarded ourselves with a 3 hour massage.... that night we slept like babies.
After a day of recovery from aching limbs, we took a packed tuk-tuk to the station where we boarded a 10 hour bus to Vientiane. Our vehicle was full of backpackers and was supposedly a VIP bus (we hate to think what a normal bus would have been like... the VIP should really stand for Vomitting Inside Permitted). The queasy first leg of the journey took us through some incredibly winding mountainous roads and unsurprisingly a couple of people at the back of the bus were sick... thankfully, from previous experience, we had strategically placed ourselves at the front. The driver continually made brief stops along rural villages so that he and his accomplices could pick up cheap fruit and veg. We made friends with a bubbly Canadian girl on board and when we arrived at Vientiane, the 3 of us hired a tuk-tuk to help us hunt down some accommodation.
1 comment:
3 hour massage...as a massage connoisseur I’ve never heard of one for so long. You must pass me the details, my masseuse complains about 1.5hrs. good to see you guys maintaining the balance between trick & treat.
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