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Travelling in Laos (7) - Journey to Nam Noen


jai-dee

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The Nong Khiaw bus station doesn't really exist as such, the term is

 

used to denote a particular location at the top of the village,

 

next to the bridge. There are two restaurants across the street

 

and this is where would-be travellers start gathering

 

in the morning. There are six of us, waiting for transport towards the

 

east. Sarah is from Melbourne, Stefan is from Switzerland, Margot

 

is from Amsterdam, Bianca is also from Melbourne and Susanne is from

 

Sweden. Susanne and Sarah met a few weeks ago in Thailand and

 

decided to team up. They are trying to get to Sam Neua and on towards

 

the Vietnamese border, which means we would be travelling together

 

to Nam Noen, about half-way to Phonsavan. Sarah wears

 

an enigmatic smile on her face all the time. She looks too dark-skinned

 

to be an Australian, her dark curly hair supporting my suspicion

 

that she is somewhere from the Mediterranean. As it turns out she

 

is of Lebanese ancestry.

 

 

 

Stefan has been travelling in South East Asia and elsewhere for

 

months. He talks almost all the time in a slow, methodical manner.

 

Whichever country in the world becomes the subject of the conversation,

 

he knows all about it and starts telling his adventures there.

 

 

 

Margot is a very attractive young girl. She too has been travelling

 

for months. She is 23, she finished university and intends to start

 

looking for a job in about six months time. The fact that she is

 

travelling off the beaten track, far from comforts of the developed

 

world, doesn't deter her from taking good care of her appearance.

 

She wears a different outfit every day, and she files her

 

fingernails several times a day so they are always in perfect

 

shape.

 

 

 

Time is passing slowly, we are sitting outside a restaurant, order

 

something to eat and drink from time to time, and watch the village

 

life around us. Nobody knows when a bus would come, or if

 

it would come at all. Time and patience are two things that are

 

required in large quantities in Laos. We are comforted by the fact

 

that a few locals locals joined us in waiting. The truck on which

 

we arrived from Luang Phabang yesterday, is parked across the street.

 

The driver hangs around and it is obvious he doesn't work to any

 

specific timetable. Several times we try to provoke him into

 

driving us to Nam Noen but every time he shakes his head and tells

 

that he is going back to Luang Phabang.

 

 

 

Suddenly, around 10 o'clock, a man appears and announces that the

 

truck is ready to go. Together with half a dozen locals we board

 

the truck and off we go. We are excited, our patient waiting has paid

 

off and we are on the way to Phonsavan and the Plain of Jars. One

 

thing bothers as though, the 5000 kip fare seems much too low.

 

 

 

The road quickly leaves the valley and starts climbing. Soon we are

 

well above the limestone hills around Nong Khiaw. Every time we

 

pass through a village we are greeted by the villagers. The further

 

we go the more friendly the local people are, they wave at us

 

excitedly, as if they mistook us for some dignitaries. The

 

children in particular are outright euphoric when they see us, they

 

act as if somebody put a huge pile of ice-cream and chocolate in front

 

of them. We are not quite sure why we deserve such a reception, but

 

we enthusiastically wave back and shout our sabaidees.

 

 

 

After 3 hours the truck stops in a small settlement, constisting of

 

about 6 bamboo huts, unloads the passengers and turns back. The

 

villagers don't understand English, none of us knows more than a

 

few Lao words, but somehow we get the message that the situation

 

is under control and another bus is going to pick us up soon.

 

They point to one of the huts, which appears to be a

 

waiting room. We sit down and calmly wait, oblivious to the fact

 

that we are in the middle of the mountains, in a tiny village with

 

absolutely no facilities and where daily traffic amounts to about

 

half a dozen motor vehicles, mostly heavy logging or construction

 

trucks.

 

 

 

And indeed, after only 15 minutes a pickup truck appears from nowhere.

 

The six of us climb in the back, together with several locals, and

 

continue our journey. We sit on the hard floor as there are no seats.

 

It is the first time in Laos that I am travelling in a vehicle with

 

a powerful engine and the driver wants to squeeze all the power he

 

can from it. The truck is speeding up the winding road. Every time it

 

makes a sharp turn or breaks we all slide to one side or another.

 

We keep rearranging our sitting positions but never find one in which

 

more than one or two persons are comfortable. Every time it is Susanne

 

who ends up in a comfortable position, she spends half the ride

 

asleep on some soft bags while the rest of us try to stay in place,

 

holding onto the sides of the truck in order to resist the

 

centrifugal force. Most of the time we are travelling high on a

 

mountain ridge which offers spectacular views. And although the

 

sun is shining from the clear skies the cold mountain air and high

 

speed make us painfully cold. The cold becomes more pronounced later

 

in the afternoon when the shadows are longer, and by the nightfall

 

we are shivering.

 

 

 

Although we are supremely uncomfortable for the entire 8 hours the

 

journey lasts, everybody is having a great time. Most of it is due

 

to the unforgetably warm welcome the people in villages give us.

 

The 4 girls, who write their travel diaries every day, discuss what

 

they are going to write for today. They all agree to use the one word

 

that should best describe the day: undescribable.

 

 

 

At 5 o'clock we stop in Vieng Thong. We eagerly get off and stretch

 

our limbs. We go to a large covered area which houses the market and

 

food stalls. As usually the supply far exceeds the demand. By now we

 

are quite hungry and thirsty, our last food was breakfast in Nong

 

Khiaw. We survey the food on offer but nobody is brave enough to try

 

anything unknown. We settle for noodle soup. While we are waiting

 

for it I walk over to the market side to find some fruit. I find

 

something that looks like melons, but its colour is different from

 

every sort of melon I know. I'm not sure if it is a vegetable or a

 

fruit, and the girl selling it doesn't understand what I am asking.

 

I decide to buy one anyway, ask the girl to cut it into slices and

 

bring it back to our table. We find out the melon is not sweet at

 

all, it tastes somewhat like a bitter cucumber, but it is very

 

juicy and we eat most of it.

 

 

 

As the sun is setting down we continue our journey. At around 8 o'clock

 

we start descending from the mountains and the air becomes

 

significantly warmer. Soon afterwards we spot the first lights ahead

 

of us and we know we have arrived at our destination for the day.

 

The pickup truck drops us off in front of a guest house in Nam Noen.

 

A truck for Sam Neua is just ready to depart, looks like it is

 

connecting with ours. Sarah and Susanne jump on it and we wish

 

them happy journey. The rest of us have to spend the night in this

 

village. One of the Lao men who travelled with us assures us that

 

there will be a bus or a truck to Phonsavan tomorrow morning at

 

8 o'clock. He is going there too so we assume he knows what he is

 

talking.

 

 

 

We take two rooms, I share with Stefan and Margot with Bianca.

 

We leave our luggage in the rooms and go out in search of food. It is

 

rather late and all restaurants have already closed. We indicate

 

to the lady of the guest house that we are hungry, she nods

 

understandingly and motions us to go with her. We follow her

 

about 100m down the street where she unlocks a large room

 

containing a kitchen and two large tables. She points to one of

 

the tables which contains a large quantity of home made noodles,

 

and we know immediately what is on the menu tonight - noodle soup.

 

We complement the noodle soups with a few bottles of Beer Lao.

 

What was going to be a quick snack extends into a prolonged dinner,

 

we talk about today's adventures and excitedly guess what

 

tomorrow will bring. Stefan then takes over and describes in

 

lengthy detail his past experiences. An hour later he is still

 

talking, mostly to Bianca who shares his smoking habit, Margot

 

and I are tired and go back to the guest house.

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