Leaving Vang Vieng proved to be difficult. After the third travel agent told me that a landslide had closed the road between Vang Vieng and Luang Prabang, I finally admitted defeat and booked a train.
It turns out that the Laos-China Railway is the only piece of infrastructure in Laos that approaches western standards, most likely due to the influx of Chinese money. The security measures seemed on paper to be strict, but in practice seemed entirely for show, a wand was neglectfully waved all over me, but no attention was being paid to the beeps and I was shoved through.
The trip was uneventful and I got a shared taxi to the centre of town, and then walked the last kilometre to my hostel. Luang Prabang has a delightfully shabby historical centre, and was the capital until 1975, which may explain why Vientine feels a little soulless by comparison.
On my first full day I took the hostel’s mini bus to Kuang Si Falls, which are incredibly epic.
Three tiers and multiple pools you can frolic in. After taking many photos and a short swim, I spent the last half an hour with my feet in one of those pools, reading a vampire novel, unmolested by the tourist hordes.
The focal point of Luang Prabang is Phousi Hill, overlooking the night market, The Mekong, the Nam Khan River, and the Royal Palace.
The hill itself features a beautifully ramshackle wat, with incredible views from the top.
Like so much of Laos, the temple was once grand, but now much faded. The ticket seller was engaged in some paving repair when I arrived, which gave a good indication about how well funded the place is.
The hostel I stayed at was well populated by young backpackers, most of which I struggled to relate to, but I did get to know a few. Bree, an Australian lady from Sydney I bonded with over a similar history. Ruby, an English lady who contracted Dengue Fever in the jungles of Thailand. Leander, an irrepressible Canadian lad who shattered his ankle on a motorbike and was awaiting his insurance company to organise his flight home. These last two were a sober reminder on how precarious the situation can be here for independent travellers, and how lucky I had been that after two and a half months of travel, I had no trouble apart from a stomach bug and an infection that responded well to antibiotics.
My second to last night in Laos I was manipulated into joining the pub crawl. After we left the first bar, we were waiting outside the second bar while our guide tried to sort out our previously approved entry, and I was feeling sweaty, bored and very out of place. I slipped away unnoticed, bought a beer to drink on the way back to the hostel, then headed to bed.
If you liked this post, please check out the rest of the posts from this trip here!
Adrian's Got The Moose 