Luang Prabang - Vang Vieng

I estimated the journey from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng to take me 8 days, despite it taking 3 for other cyclists. I wasn’t far off. How can a journey that other cyclists take 3 days to complete take me 6 and a half you may ask yourself? Quite easily really….

I stayed up until 5am the previous night writing and woke up at 12:30 the following day, half an hour after checking out time. I was in a lethargic mood and slowly packed my things and made breakfast. At 2pm the owner asked me if I was staying or not, he seemed happy either way and didn’t seem annoyed that I hadn’t let him know earlier. 2 hours late by Laos standards is nothing. Laos people are super chilled. I felt a bit low as I left Luang Prabang. I’d been looking forward to having company further south…..blah blah blah…. I won’t bore you with details. I had let myself look forward to something that wasn’t a definite prospect. I should know better. It wasn’t all bad things going on in my head when I left Luang Prabang. I miraculously managed to double the size of my infinitely useful elastic band collection and was over the moon with that. I really was over the moon.

I only rode about 8km out of the city before stopping to make noodles. I could smell wild coriander from where I had parked and spent about half an hour hunting for the source. I gave up and went another 2km or so and went to a market (that sold rats as well as coriander) and bought some groceries then gave an English lesson on the request of the vendor, because I had nothing else to do. My enthusiasm for teaching was thin and after asking my name, age, etc she soon ran out of questions. I found her discomfort at the awkward silences quite amusing and made little effort to break them. I don’t necessarily find long silences to be awkward but do find them to get a bit boring after a while. Besides, it was getting late so I explained that I needed to leave to find somewhere to camp. One of her customers overheard and invited me to stay at his family home. Having worked for 6 years in an outdoor adventure company he has acquired excellent English. He also has a name, he also told me what his name was and I thought to myself ‘that will be an easy name to remember because it sounds a bit like an English word’. Yes, he definitely had a name. We spent the evening browsing through my laptops music folder. Although he was disappointed that I didn’t have any Westlife for him to transfer to his mp3 player, he was thrilled to bits to add Rod Stewart and Runrig to his impeccable collection. The wooden huts have no mosquito protection but I wasn’t bitten once. From inside the hut I could see quite clearly the village life from within the gaps in between the woven leaves that make the wall. After day 1 I had cycled a phenomenal 13km. 13km, I really did.

I can’t remember much about what happened to the other 5 and half days. I remember perking up on day 2 and doing a huge, big, steep and treacherous, death defying 15 km climb with just 2 short tangerine breaks and having a rest at the top complimenting my improved stamina. I was given elevation maps from an Australian couple going in the opposite direction and was well chuffed with myself for climbing the height of 2 Empire State Buildings so relatively effortlessly. There was a shop at the top, I bought myself a can of coke, took some photos then sat and had a cigarette on one of the huts that overlooked the valley below and admired the view. From behind me I heard a big vehicle pull up. From the blacked out windows appeared a van full of monks. Even though I don’t think I’ll ever become a monk, I do admire the simplicity of the monk ethic. I looked around me and felt a bit embarrassed to have my needless possessions that I’d acquired, my camera, cigarettes and can of coke sitting around me. I tucked them out of the way and watched the monks as they did their thing. They took some photos of the view, bought some juice, chain smoked a couple of cigarettes then gave their balls a good tug to get them in a nice comfy position in preparation for continuing their long arduous journey to wherever. Despite not believing in reincarnation, it appears that myself and Buddhist monks share a lot in common. I’ve got no intention of becoming one but should really try befriending one. I really should.

The rest of the road to Vang Vieng consisted of lots of climbs, hot weather, lovely Karst mountains and the company of Al and Jess, an English couple who’ve lived in Thailand for a year and are cycling around SE Asia before returning to England. Oh and I forgot to mention, lots of noodle soup. Really, lots of noodle soup.