Southern Laos

My entry into southern Laos was a bit curious. I took a bus from Ubon to Pakse. After four rather confusing hours of stopping at check points and other village stops that remain mysterious to me, we ended up in Pakse.

My introduction into Laos at the border was a sharp contrast from Thailand – on the Thai border, it was very ordered and the road was paved and the air was cool, but I went through the border tunnel and came out onto the Laos side with surprising heat and a large, confusing dirt path to a broken building. That broken building was the customs office.

I paid for my visa on arrival with a team of Europeans, but I was the only one that got interrogated about my visit to Laos. A man came out and pointed to my US passport, sternly (and rather loudly) asking me why I was in Laos. Confused and nervous, I stated truthfully that I was just a tourist visiting Pakse and Luang Prabang. Finally, he handed me my passport with visa (in a bit of a huff). I think there is some old hostility in some of those custom guys.

Reading the Lonely Planet SE Asia guide, I was in denial about its description of Pakse not being much. Once in Pakse, though, I learned to not doubt updated tour guides that much. Pakse is a dusty town, with hotel restaurants and enough foreigners to shake a stick at, but not much past that. Luckily, most of my time in Pakse had to be on a laptop for work and assignments anyways (or waiting around doing my laundry in the sink); I felt better knowing that I was not missing anything when I was isolated in my room for long days.

At the start, Laos did not wow me like I had hoped. I struggled for the first few days, trying to get things to work for me and my job – wifi, phone data, etc. Also, getting ointment for a minor skin infection was frustrating as I bounced between shops (and even ended up in the local hospital for English speakers to translate for me what I needed) with some medical creams precariously stashed in glass cabinets, and buying things for rashes I knew I did not have. With the increased heat and frustrating encounters (where English was even more useless here as it is in Thailand), I was sweaty and tired in a matter of minutes. I was irritated with the systems in Pakse early on, but I kept reminding myself that my travels would bring me to other places.

Being a solo lady traveling in Southern Laos (well, Laos in general), people try to help me out and make sure I’m safe. I found that I easily endeared myself to the people around me by using just a word or two in Lao (or ordering a Lao dish). In restaurants, though, this could backfire and instead they would try to prove to me just how spicy their food can be for local people (level: agonizing). I ended up eating at my hotel a bit, to protect myself from vindictive waiters. Luckily, the hotel manager where I was staying was so impressed with my interest in Lao culture and food that he even made me local meals, including grilled frogs, fermented fish, and eggy rice soup. Every time I ate I would have a group of Laotians surrounding me, in awe of my eating of their local foods. Apparently most “falang” don’t bother trying to eat traditional foods from the region; to me that just sounds like missing half of the fun of travel.

A few days in, I made my way further south to the border of Cambodia to stay in the 4000 Islands, on a little yet popular island called Don Det. Getting there, again, was an adventure, as I sat in a packed 40-year-old bus in the extreme heat with a pile of hippy-backpacker youth types that in discussions seemed more interested in partying on questionable substances than relaxing on a remote island.

After the bus, we trudged through a tired town and got onto some long boats that brought us to the banks of the island, which meant we had to quickly problem solve getting off of the boat (or climbing through several boats next to each other) and hope that our balance would get us to dry land before falling into the river with our belongings.

Off of the boat I was met by some locals selling things and more of the same backpackers casually strolling along. One of the downsides of being there was that it was hard to enjoy being in a foreign country because it felt like an extremely tropical western college town. The island is lined with souvenir shops, tourist agencies, and restaurants that cater to foreign mouths. One of the restaurants played “Friends” nonstop – another played “South Park”. A lot of the town was starting to feel a bit like Cancun spring break, if you catch my drift.

Other than that, Don Det is beautiful, as is the rest of the area. I was surrounded by peacefully rolling water and green little islands dotted the waterways, with looming green hills in the distance.

There is bank erosion on the island, which means there are little haphazard bridges made of wooden planks around the island that you (hopefully successfully) walk or ride over. I tried riding a bike to enjoy more of the island, but the roads were treacherous (cliff-side dirt paths with wooden bridges of death) and full of other bikes/animals/motorcycles/people using the same narrow paths. I became full of anxiety and stopped riding soon into the adventure, and decided to relax on the island for my stay. Instead, I’d focus on naps and sunset boat rides.

I got to make some new friends! which is most excellent for the traveling social extrovert I am. I met two Germans on my first night, and we sat in a restaurant having fun talking about foreign policy and academics. They are studying in Bangkok, and helped me understand more of the region than I had known before. I also ended up making good friends with a guy from Belgium (Belgian Elkana), who I get along with famously, and he became my southern Lao travel buddy for a few days. He has traveled through the region quite a bit, as well, and has given me a lot more insights into the culture and quirks of SE Asian travel since we met. We also talked about other things, like life and death and society and other light subjects. He’s great, you should meet him.

I wish I had stayed longer in Don Det, but I had things to do in Pakse (namely, work) and my relaxing and sweltering holiday in the islands came to a swift end.

Fortunately, I had one place to tour when I was back in Pakse – the Wat Phou in Champasack a little further south of the city. Wat Phou means it’s a temple of some sort situated by some natural area like a mountain or trees, I believe. I was told it was a good taster for the beginning of my Khmer Wat visits, and I am glad to hear that as it was enchanting. I met up with travel buddy Belgian Elkana, and we explored the beautiful and hilly area around an ancient temple that predates the Angkor Wat in Cambodia. The ruins were grand and elegant. The only problem was my fear of heights and the Khmer architecture’s sagging steps up a steep hill to the Wat. Luckily Elkana helped me down the stairs as I whimpered and paced like a puppy going down stairs.

After a week of travel and working, I got myself to the tiny airport and made my way to northern Laos, in Luang Prabang.