We pulled into Pakxan and unstrapped our lives from the back of the cycle. After a much needed shower we were lured to a street festival along the river by the sound of live music.
Soon after approaching the stage a group of Lao people motioned for us to join them and we happily plopped down at their table. A band ripped through cowbell driven Lao sing-a-longs and the town was getting sauced. A plate of chicken hearts served as our centerpiece. Our communication was limited to cheersing each other and saying “kohp-chai” (thank you) repeatedly.
Hunger convinced us to move on and we found a restaurant down the street serving Lao barbecue. The owner shooed us towards a picture menu to order, and we motioned that we wanted to use the ceramic grill in the center of each table.
His children brought over small bowls filled with spices, garlic, and peanut sauce. A large pitcher of hot broth came next, followed by a heaping pile of thinly sliced chicken, beef, and pork. The owner came and dumped hot coals into the center of the grill before covering the fire with a metal dish.
We filled the exterior of the plate with the broth to keep the meat moist and slowly grilled through the pile-o-meat. This way of eating forced us to eat slowly as we were limited in the amount of meat we could grill simultaneously which was pleasant.
On the walk back to our hotel our Lao friends from before caught our scent and brought us to their table. Our glasses were filled immediately, and we re-commenced our alcohol-based communication through cheers-ing each other repeatedly. People danced without inhibitions and we were happy to join them.
Today we woke up early and hit the road. We drove two hours before turning onto the beginning of the “Laos Loop”, a 500 km circle containing some of the best scenery in central Laos.
Our excitement was quickly squashed by a derailed chain. We hopped off the bike and began surgery using the wrenches our french salesman left for us. Gradually we wrapped our heads around how the back axel of the bike affected the chain tension, and Louise ingeniously engineered a way to create more tension on the chain by using a hair tie. I was very impressed.
We puttered along in 2nd gear, the bike struggling up the moderate inclines. To our dismay, the chain un-hooked once again. In my motorcycle naivety I wheeled the bike without untangling the chain. It snapped.
I waved down the first truck we saw and we signed to the driver that our cycle broke and wanted a ride into town. Eventually we understood each other and this mega woman heaved the bike into the back of the truck like a sac of potatoes.
The woman dropped us at a mechanic with a smile and a complete refusal of our money. Pay it forward. The greased mechanic showed me a price of 100,000 kip on his Nokia and I nodded in agreement. He worked efficiently and 30 minutes later our 1977 beauty was sporting a fancy new chain.
Louise read about the Namsanam waterfall nearby and we paid 10,000 kip each to start the hike. The jungle was dense, and the well trodden trail quickly gave way to overgrowth and forks.
The forest was choral. We heard frogs and birds chittering eerily as we walked. A lime green spider crossed our path. I poked near him with a stick, and he reared up on his hind four legs, ready to attack. I approached, he lunged. We were impressed by his bravery in a fight with a giant.
Other wildlife we saw included a fat toad, a lost crab, a palm sized spider, and a fluorescent green snake.
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