Saying Goodbye to Laos

Champasak & Wat Phu

Our final few stops in Laos brought us back to the waters of the Mekong. We arrived in Champasak by boat, and meandered our way through the sleepy town, looking for a guesthouse along the side of the road fronting the river (reminiscent of Muang Ngoy). In the nearly three days we spent in Champasak, my memory is mostly of gazing out at that water. The river is wide here and there is an infinite calm associated with the flat horizon it creates.

Champasak sees most of its tourist draw from the ruins at Wat Phu, an ancient Khmer religious complex which stretches 1,400m up the Phu Pasak mountain range. The name translates to ‘temple-mountain’ and it definitely feels like that. The steps alone are gigantic, making you feel as if you’re climbing to another realm; and indeed, the notion is that it should be difficult for a mortal to reach the gods. We didn’t find the structures to be quite as compelling as the site itself, with its mysterious airs and the ever-changing perspective as you climb, not to mention the sweeping views of the surrounding area once you reach the summit. The site is dotted with countless flowering frangipani trees, the Lao national flower, and swept us up in the swelling emotion of national pride for a country we had truly come to love.

Si Phan Don

Si Phan Don is at the southernmost tip of Laos, right near the border with Cambodia, and is also know by its translation: ‘four thousand islands’. The Mekong spans even wider down here with islands big and small dotting the water like a splatter paint picture. We arrived by boat again, choosing to stay on Don Det (map here), one of two islands equipped with tourist accommodations. There are so many accommodations, in fact, that it’s a bit overwhelming figuring out which is the right one for you. But despite the mid-day heat, we stumbled our way into a private duplex bungalow on the sunset side of the island for $5/night. It was a sweet spot and one we called home for a full week; our longest stay yet in any one place!

This final week in Laos was like one long swan song. We sat on the beach, we rode bikes, we read, we watched the sunset. But it also presented new challenges to us as travelers, like when I came down with a nasty bout of food poisoning, and then The Hubs followed suit just a few nights later. There was something primitive about the whole experience, and not just because the plumbing in Laos never exactly instilled confidence. It stripped away all the distractions of our travel, forcing us to focus on our immediate needs and meet them. It made us rest finally! But the loveliest part – if I can say that about a double-header of food poisoning – was that it brought us closer together. Over the less-than-pleasant 72-hour period, we danced this symbiotic dance between patient and caregiver, and I couldn’t help feeling incredibly grateful in the face of all that vulnerability. We celebrated 10 years together on Don Det, just about the same time time we were both eating solid foods again – a cause for twice the celebration – and a wonderful way to end our six weeks in Laos.

I’ll leave off with some highlights from all those sunsets we caught off our balcony.

Back to Laos: Pakse & The Southern Swing

It’s Been Awhile Since I Talked About Food

We spent two weeks wending our way to the southernmost tip of Laos, hitting most of the small towns along the way, and thus, facing the inevitable feelings of not liking everywhere we went. While northern Laos still feels largely untouched by tourism, the south has had folks tromping through for a few decades now and has had time to catch up. Restaurants serving ‘western’ food became the norm and not exactly what I’d deem haute cuisine. And so it’s for good reason that I haven’t been waxing poetic about the cuisine of late.

Until we hit Pakse. Now Pakse is not exactly a charming riverfront town. In fact, it is a town that feels decidedly over-touristed. It is the jumping off point for a lot of other tourist activities and has thus sprung up countless hotels and dozens of average-fare restaurants lining a main drag; but what it delivers in quantity, it lacks in quality. It simply lacks heart. But it is here that we discovered Mengke Noodle House, tucked under a small awning, and though listed in the trusty Lonely Planet, somehow never populated by other tourists. We nestled in amongst the locals for breakfast one morning, and got served up what is perhaps the best bowl of pho I have ever had the pleasure of eating. Until I ate it again. And then again. And then maybe even again. (I’m not sure, because I lost count after the third bowl.)

Mengke’s specialty was duck pho, and if you played it like a local, you knew to order it with their homemade egg noodles instead of the rice noodles. The dish was rustic with round, dark flavors; but like any good pho, it was still light. Buoyant, almost. I don’t usually like duck, finding it overly fatty or chewy most of the time, but this was nothing like that. Someone must have lovingly stoked a fire through the night to keep this meat simmering gently, because it was the most tender duck I had ever eaten. The flavors of the broth permeated the meat perfectly, creating a lovely harmony of meatiness with hints of five spice and a mysterious touch of cardamom. The noodles completed the triangle: eggy-yellow and curly like Ramen noodles, but thicker and with a satisfying, toothsome bite. We never figured out the owner’s origins. The place had a Vietnamese vibe, with Vietnamese-style coffee and tea, but the noodles could have been Chinese. Perhaps it was the drab surroundings of Pakse that made Mengke stand out like a shining beacon of taste bud delight. But I think it was just damn good.

The Southern Swing

The Southern Swing is another motobike trip through rural Laos that can be easily done in two to five days. It skirts up, over, and around the Bolaven Plateau, an area that has recently seen an influx of coffee growing plantations, but has been an important agricultural region since the French introduced it in the early 20th century. It also enjoys ever so slightly higher altitudes, and thus, cooler temperatures. A welcome change from the hotter and hotter temperatures we’d been seeing as we worked our way south. The motobike trip felt like it had a slightly less epic vibe than The Loop, what with not renting from Mr. Ku’s and not having a Log Book to flip through, plus the better quality of roads. It made us feel as though we had graduated to a more ‘grown up’ experience. And, in actuality, I think we had. The journey itself was fairly uneventful: we didn’t need to get anything repaired along the way; we were pretty responsible about switching drivers regularly to stave off arm- and butt-related fatigue; and we were way better at quick downshifts on the harder mountain climbs. We were simply more comfortable. The pictures from this trip were subsequently much more experimental, and deserve to be showcased, as such. They tell the story better, too.

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Elephants of Tad Lo

Did I say The Southern Swing was uneventful? That was mostly true except for the all-but-transcendental experience of meeting and riding the elephants at Tad Lo Lodge. The Hubs was determined to find this place that was known to have three gentle female elephants, and though I gave up and went back to our guesthouse, he persevered! Seriously, when does that man not come through? He returned, triumphant, and whisked me off to see the elephants for what turned out to be their afternoon bath time. I felt like I was watching the live-action version of that Sesame Street episode where you get to see the elephant getting its bath at the zoo. It helped that there were dozens of local kids there using the river as a swimming hole, and who happily vacated to watch the bashfully graceful beasts as they were led to their watery task.

We returned the following morning to take a ride on one of the elephants which left my cheeks aching from the maniacally wide grin I maintained throughout. The ride lasted about an hour and took us across a river, through the jungle, and into a small village before looping back again. The mahout, or elephant driver, rode on the elephant’s neck while we were atop a bench mounted to her back. We had to get used to the lilt back and forth with each of her loping steps, but we were on a freaking elephant, so we adapted. As was often the case in Laos, the language barrier was too significant to ask many questions, but just spending time with the elephants proved to be as instructive as it was mesmerizing. Their size and strength would be impressive on their own, but combined with their curious intellect and recognizable intelligence, I think I may have myself a new favorite animal. (Shh… No one tell the goats.) It was pure joy to watch their meandering trunks as they explored their surroundings or to gaze into one of their knowing eyes, framed by those impressively long lashes.

We pulled ourselves away eventually – the road ahead calling to us – but what incredible creatures! And the further out we get from the experience, the more it feels like such an incredible privilege.

Change of Plans

It’s been awhile since my last update, and we’ve done a bunch of travel since then (for which I will continue to write posts), but it’s now two countries and two motobike trips later… and we are going home. Met with the downside of motobike travel, The Hubs was off running a few errands and was hit by a couple of college students on another motobike. He got knocked off the bike, but thankfully, his injuries are minimal compared to what they could have been. A few contusions and a minor fracture will keep him on crutches for the better part of the next few months, and so we are making a return to California for him to convalesce and us to reassess.

The original plan was to be on the road for about six months and then check in with ourselves (and our finances) and see where our adventure would take us from there, be it home or onto another continent. But we’ve been handed a different opportunity for this reflective time. A hiatus, if you will. It’s funny how life can change in an instant.

It’s been an exhausting week dealing with the logistics of three hospitals, two insurance companies, and the canceling/changing/making of travel plans to accommodate a man who was already too big for most things Asian. But if these are our biggest worries, I can handle that. I can handle a lot more, actually, so long as The Hubs is okay; a fact for which I continue to feel so incredibly grateful. That and the unbelievable kindness and generosity of the Thai people who have helped us along the way and often in the face of significant language barriers.