The bus from Chiang Rai left at drizzly 6 am and I attempted to sleep before giving in to watching the scenery. The seats were nearly empty, and we got the Thai border two hours later.
Stupidly, we didn’t change any money into the required USD to pay for a Laos visa and the man working at the airport gleefully exchanged some of our Bhat at a criminally unfair rate. We had no choice. The border involved the Thai departure stamp, a transport bus across the river, and a shiny new Laos Visa for a $35 price tag. Throughout the border procedure we befriended Moritz, a gentle German, and after receiving our visas we shared a Tuk Tuk to the pier.
Louise read online about taking a two-day “slow boat” from the border to Luang Prabang. After taking our monopoly-money kip out of an atm (1,000,000 kip!) we bought three tickets for the boat departing at 11 and ate a quick lunch at a cafe. The exchange rate here is roughly 10000 kip to the euro… it took time to convert mentally from our Bhat locked minds.
The boat was around 30 yards long and sat close to 100 people in moveable car seats positioned around the deck. We removed our shoes at the door and stashed our bags near the front of the boat before taking our seats. Mostly foreigners occupied the seats.
We traveled along the murky Mekong river, quickly engulfed by lush forests and rounded mountain tops. Village children ran out to greet the boats with shrieks of “Sabadee!” (hello) and big smiles. Moritz and I bought a handful of beers at the port and spent the majority of the afternoon playing Canesta with Louise and Habbas, and older restauranteur traveling from Bahrain. I had never heard of Bahrain, much less able to place it on a map.
The game dawdled on as we sat in the back of the boat on a steel floor. The engine chugged on, aided by an employee stationed at the bottom of the boat bailing out the water that inadvertently entered the hull.
We arrived in Pakbeng, our middle point, and grabbed a private room for 50000 kip. The highlight of the evening was spotting a large salamander hiding behind the sign of a nearby hostel.
The next day we ate breakfast at the hotel and the boat set out for Luang Prabang. We spent this day much like the first, alternating between hands of cards and reflecting on the scenery.
In Luang Prabang we tuktuk’d into town and searched for a place to crash. A strung out, hiccuping man pulled up next to us on a scooter, hawking a hostel nearby with “free whisky, free weed, and free dinner.” He pointed us the way with a long nailed pinkie. We respectfully declined, and ended up booking a pricy room at the Moon Hotel.
After getting settled and doing some bathroom sink laundry we left to walk around the town. Luang Prabang seems to have a high proportion of travelers to locals, and it seems like every other building is a guesthouse or hostel. Louise left for the hostel to rest and I ran into Moritz on the street shortly after.
He had booked a room with the “free weed” man, and I followed him back to the hostel to ask about a room and a potential motorcycle purchase. The hostel owner was posted at the main table and grumbled a price of $300 a bike through mouthfuls of whiskey. I said I’d be back tomorrow…. no chance I will be back tomorrow.
Outside Moritz and I drank a beer, and eventually another group from the hostel joined us. We walked through the town with a Norwegian couple, Anne and Horvath (?), and two french buddies who hitchhiked from France to SE Asia. We sat at an Indian restaurant and swapped stories. The french guys told a phenomenal tale about being picked up by a guy in Mongolia and him stealing one of their knives. They grabbed his car keys to try to get some bargaining leverage, and the guy challenged them to a Mongolian wrestling match for the knife. Hilarious.
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