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Category Archives: Laos

Travel Tales from Laos

Following The Buddha’s Footsteps At Wat Siphouthabath Thipphraram

05 Tuesday Mar 2013

Posted by Bangkokbois in Laos, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Luang Prabang, Wats

Wat Siphouthabath Luang Prabang

Thanks to the internet, prior to heading off to some as yet undiscovered spot like Luang Prabang you can load up on info about what to see, what to do, and when the best time is to see or do it. That knowledge can be useful. It can also result in a schedule that disallows for just exploring the site on your own and on your own time schedule. Stumbling across a place you weren’t aware of in advance is a lot more about what travel is supposed to be, though granted that attitude can mean missing out on what every other touri in town already knows about. But that’s why you should spend your evenings at a local pub. It’s always good to pick your fellow touri brains over a few brews.

Luang Prabang is touri friendly. There’s not a big need to plan a visit out in advance. Especially when it comes to wats. There are a few thousand in town, all brimming with monks, and since you can’t take a five minute walk without running across a few, listing out those you just have to visit is an exercise in futility. Especially since the spelling of their names changes drastically from one guidebook or internet site to the next. The only temple I was aware of prior to our visit was the Golden Wat. Which isn’t golden. But which every guidebook, internet site, and guide in town says is a must-see. I was much more taken with Wat Siphouthabath, which we found one morning while looking for somewhere to have breakfast. And thanks to the internet, after the fact, I’m told the best time to visit that temple is for the sunset. Huh.

Wat Siphouthabath buddhas

Sunsets are popular among the touri crowd. Sunrises not so much. The only problem in following the herd to a locale’s best sunset viewing spot is that you get to battle with every other touri for the prime seat once you get there. As sure as I am that Wat Siphouthabath is a great place to watch the sun go down – ‘cuz everyone says it is – doing so with the town’s entire touri population would ruin what attracted me to the wat in the first place. Serenity just doesn’t stand a chance once the tour buses pull up.

I’m guessing all of the packed tours that include the temple as their sun set viewing spot expect you to climb the hundreds of steps up the hill since all you’d see looking westward otherwise is the back of a bunch of buildings along Sisavongvang Road. Wat Siphouthabath’s stairway to heaven is a bit shorter than the set leading up to Mt. Phousi, just down the street and opposite the Royal Palace Museum. But they too lead to the top of Mt. Phousi. Where your large group of touri can join with the other large group of touri who decided the official Mt. Phousi climb was the best place to catch the sun’s act. The bonus of making the trek from Wat Siphouthabath is that at the top landing you see the footprints of the Buddha. If you climb the traditional route instead, you have a five minute walk along the spine of the hill to see those puppies.

Wat Siphouthabath stairs to top of mount phousi

For travel, the internet is a wonderful font of knowledge. For example, to quell the skeptic in your heart, you can discover that natural indentation in a rock that is shaped like a foot print and painted gold everyone is telling you is the footprint of the Buddha really isn’t. Though it – and the others that can be found all over South-East Asia – are believed to be the footprints of The Buddha when he touched the ground after attaining enlightenment. It’s representational of The Buddha’s presence and shows that the teachings of Buddha have been reached and are respected.

Thanks to Google, you can also discover that the footprints in Luang Prabang are considered part of Wat Phra Buddabhat. Which they are. But only if you are in Thailand where Wat Phra Buddabhat is located. You can also discover that both the name of Wat Phra Buddabhat and Wat Siphouthabath translate into English as ‘Temple of the Buddha Footprint’. Which may explain the confusion by some travelers in mistaking one for the other. Though there’s a good chance neither actually translates that way since that little bit of info comes from the same fount of knowledge that has you walking from Laos to Thailand within a mere five minutes. But that’s what you can expect from a source of info that can’t decide whether ‘font of knowledge or ‘fount of knowledge is correct.

Wat Siphouthabath monk

A digression longer than the flight of stairs up Mount Phousi you say? Not at all. Because knowledge is what Wat Siphouthabath is all about. The buildings within its terraced grounds are unassuming. Even its wiharn is a bit on the small size and its Buddha imagery lacks the gilded splendor that you are used to seeing in Thailand. But the wat’s compound is huge, and a good deal of it is taken up by classrooms and residences for the hundreds of young monks who study there.

From what little I could find out about the wat, the school seems to be its main reason for being. Largely funded by private French citizens, it offers a free education to the (male) school-age children of Laos. Many of its students come from the country’s outlying regions. While there is no scarcity of young novice monks in Luang Prabang, the sheer volume of saffron on display at Wat Siphouthabath is astounding.

Wat Siphouthabath luang prabang

The grounds stretch from the stairs leading up to the Buddha’s footprint at its southwest corner to a small soi unnamed and unmarked on most maps at its northeastern boundary, an expanse spread over several levels (Luang Prabang is big on stairs). Most of the religious buildings are on the lower level while residences and facilities for eating and temple maintenance – along with the odd statue and small shrine – take up the upper terraces. The classrooms too are on the first level and run along the temple’s length. Between classes, it’s easy to get into a conversation with some of the young monks; English is one of the school’s subjects and the kids are eager to practice their skills.

Even with all the kids running about, there are numerous small nooks and crannies tucked away throughout the compound where you can find a bit of peace and quiet. And occasionally a young monk off studying by himself. It’s a picturesque setting with the town and the mighty Mekong on view from the upper levels looking westward and the slightly more sluggish Nam Kahn winding its way through the hills looking toward the east. As tranquil as the setting is, you’d think it’d be a more popular spot for touring, but you can easily spend and hour or two here without ever seeing another white face. At least until the sun gets reading to go down.

Wat Siphouthabath school

If you are looking for impressive Buddhas and richly carved temples soaring into the sky, Wat Siphouthabath is not the answer. If you are looking for a glimpse at the daily life of school children in Laos and have a few hours to kill meandering among a forested and fading Buddhist wat, it’s the perfect place to begin your day. And if you want to rush up a long flight of stairs with a bunch of your fellow touri, it’s a nice place to watch the sunset too.

Wat Siphouthabath monks

Wat Siphouthabath

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Scammed In Luang Prabang

25 Wednesday Jan 2012

Posted by Bangkokbois in Laos, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Luang Prabang, Scams, Stupid Tourist Tricks, Transportation, Wats

mekong boat

Tranquil and peaceful, and still Luang Prabang is not free from scams.

I’m not a newbie to SE Asia nor to the numerous scams just waiting for the unsuspecting touri. I’ve run across all of the well-known scams in Thailand, usually with advance knowledge and able to avoid becoming another statistic. And I frequently alert others to those scams, more so now that I write this blog. But even the most seasoned traveller can still easily fall victim to a scam. Especially when it is unexpected.

On my very first trip to Thailand with my friend Ann, we were presented with the opportunity of participating in the ‘The Grand Palace Is Closed Scam.’ But whoever came up with that one, which was around the time the first tourist to Thailand headed over to see the Grand Palace, failed to take Ann’s anal retentiveness into account. Outside the palace’s walls a local alerted us to the fact the Grand Palace was closed. That’s step one. Step two is the suggestion that for a low price he knows of an Official Tuk Tuk Driver Licensed By The Government, who will gladly take you to several other wats and local sights. Which end up being overpriced jewelry stores and rip-off tailors. We never got to step two because Ann checked off the Grand Palace on her schedule of things we were to do and immediately moved us off to the next place on her list. The promised wats and sights were not on her approved list. When Ann has a list, you stick to it.

On subsequent trips Thailand’s scam operators fared no better. Research pays off when you are visiting a foreign land. The internet is full of tales from those who went up against a scammer and lost. Not that Thailand is the only home to scammers in SE Asia. I ran across the fake gem scam at the Central Market in Phnom Penh and laughed that anyone could be so foolish as to believe those large chunks of glass were real rubies and emeralds. But it was fun listening to vendors’ claims. And I enjoyed trying to be scammed by a young over friendly woman in KL, who thought her come-on had placed me firmly in her cross-hairs not realizing that her particular scam just doesn’t work on gay men. She’s probably still trying to figure out what went wrong that night. So I’m aware that scams are out there.

luang prabang monk robes

Almost as good as a Monk Shot! saffron robes hung out to dry in Xieng Maen.

I easily avoid those I’ve heard about, and remain vigilant, on guard against those about which I’ve not been forewarned. But you can’t go around thinking every local you talk to is out to rip you off. If you do, you end up missing out on some good times, and on meeting some truly delightful people.

Scams were not, however, on my mind when my friend Noom and I headed to Luang Prabang in Laos. Everything I’d read about the World Heritage City was positive. Previous visitors sung its praises, having fell in love with the peaceful little burg and its warm and friendly people. I’d read up about the town on the internet before we left Bangkok. No one mentioned the opportunity of getting ripped off. There was no good advice about bad Laotians. But then that’s one of the problems with the internet. There were also no good warnings about bad advice. And of that, there was plenty.

Once you’ve done the Morning Market and the Night Market, seen a few dozen wats, and scaled the thousands of steps to the top of Mount Phousi, there’s not a lot to do in Luang Prabang. That’s one of its charms. But people on holiday like to fill their days accomplishing something, even though the whole point of a holiday is to take a break and rest. The people of Lao, like those living anywhere where touri flock, have come up with activities to keep visitors busy and happy. In Luang Prabang, that’s a half-day trip up-river to the Pak Ou Caves and the Kuang Si waterfalls. Every guide book and travel site tout the caves and waterfalls as a must-do when visiting Luang Prabang. Every tourist ends up going to the caves and waterfalls because that’s all there is to do in Luang Prabang. Both looked cool, and made it onto my list of things we’d do on our trip too. It was a short list.

boats along the Mekong

Private boats can be hired for touring along the Mekong.

The packaged tours that take you to the two sites leave early in the morning. I’m not a morning person to begin with and am even less so when on holiday. Throw in a Thai bar boy’s regular work/sleep schedule and anything before 10:00 A.M. is pushing it. The package tours also throw in stops at a whiskey making village and a textiles village, both billed as prime examples of local handcrafts, places you can visit to see villagers at work. And purchase a nice handcrafted souvenir. ‘Handcraft’ translates the same from Thai or Lao. It means fake, rip-of priced places built for touri and selling crap made in Vietnam at prices higher than you’d ever manage to get for the stuff back home. ‘Handcraft’ is just easier to say.

I figured there had to be a better way. There had to be an alternative to the package tours that allowed you to make your excursion at a more appropriate hour. And that would allow you to avoid wasting time at the handcraft villages. Google told me there was.

The well-intended bad advice from previous travellers said you could rent a private boat for the trip up to the caves and waterfall at half the price the package tours charged. Having not yet seen the town, reading that little gem of travel wisdom, I nodded sagely and made a note. Once in town, however, a smarter person may have considered that advice might not be all that accurate. Luang Prabang, at least its historic district along the Mekong, is small. Tiny in fact. And in a microcosm of capitalism smack dab in the middle of a communist country, no one dealing with touri is gonna accept half of what they know is the going price.

luang prabang buddhist umbrella

An umbrella shades a small altar perched atop a high wall overlooking the Mekong in Xieng Maen.

If you have read any of my previous posts about scams in SE Asia, then you know I’m a heartless bastard who laughs at those who fall prey to scammers. Scams rely on one thing more than anything else and that is greed. If you don’t want to be scammed on your vacation, you don’t have to know about potential scams, you just have to not be greedy. It’s more about your greed than their dishonesty when you fall for a scam. Great advice. Which I totally ignored in Luang Prabang.

After walking through the morning market one day we headed down to the Mekong, passing one of many package tour shops along the way. This one had their tours and prices listed on a sandwich board out front. Sweet. I now knew the current going rate for the cave/water fall trip. And since we were soon walking along the street fronting the river, it seemed a good time to find a boatman and haggle out a price for the trip. Finding one was easy. The calls of “Hello Sir!” came drifting over from the water side of the street as soon as we started walking along Manthatourath Road.

Having a local – or a semi-local because there really isn’t a lot different between Thais and Laotians – with you should work to your advantage when haggling with any type of vendor. When that local or semi-local is Noom, it’s not. Vendors all speak enough English that I can manage to cut a deal and get a good price without resorting to using the local lingo. But Noom likes to do his part, and does so in Thai. Or Lao. And then presents the deal he’s settled on in English to me. Which isn’t really about translating but rather about telling me how much it is going to cost me. That’d be cool, except his bartering skills suck.

novice monks afloat

Little monks, long boat.

Twenty baht is big bucks to Noom. In Bangkok, that will cover his dinner. If he can get a vendor to drop by that amount he’s a happy camper. And considers it a win. Half off the asking price is what I normally shoot for anywhere in SE Asia. So after he and the boatman had a go at it, we had to start all over. And I got the trip for half of what the package tour wanted. Plus we didn’t have to leave for another two hours.

“He want you pay now,” Noom told me after we’d agreed to the time and price. Right. I might not have been thinking scam, but I’m not an idiot either.

“Uh, no. We’ll pay him when we come back.”

Not that it was needed, but Noom translated what I’d said for the boatman. And then came back with his counter. “He want you pay half now,” he told me.

Sensing the answer was still going to be no, Noom followed up with more info. “For guarantee,” he said. “No guarantee, no booking.”

making paper

There was little evidence they handcrafted textiles at the Authentic Textile Village, but they did make paper by hand.

Que sera, sera. I smiled at the boat guy, shook my head and told Noom that was a chance we’d have to take. The bank is lined with boats and the wall along the upper landing lined with boatmen. I was fairly sure our guy would still be waiting when we returned. If not, potential rides were not exactly sparse. So we headed back to the hotel, had lunch, and then headed back to the river to find our boatman anxiously awaiting our return. Big surprise.

Now greed, or saving a few bucks to use a nicer term, was not my only motivation in hiring a private boat for the trip. Avoidance was equally of import. I had no desire to see a whiskey making village or a textiles making village. And I wanted as much time as we decided to take at the caves. They are filled with hundreds of Buddha statues and having braved packed tours in the past I knew the allotted time would be far too short for what we would want to spend there. A half day was not long enough for seeing both the caves and the waterfalls. I’d already decided we’d do the waterfalls separately the next day. And drive to them instead of cruising up the river.

But in Luang Prabang, it’s a package deal even when you are not on a package tour. There’s money to be made (on the off chance you might spend any at either village) and that’s typical of how SE Asian minds work. The trip includes the two village, therefore everyone must stop at both places. Regardless if you were joining a tour or making one of your own. Not going to the waterfall did not cause a problem. Our boatman was comfortable with dropping that from the tour. But I had better success bartering over the price than in trying to get him to not take us to the two villages. There seems to be a strict concatenation of stops related to touring the Pak Ou Caves that cannot be trifled with. I tried, it just didn’t work.

Mekong color

The Mekong’s mundane landscape is livened by once vividly decorated boats.

Rather than have us all pissed off, I sucked it up and agreed to visit the villages, figuring we could make short work of both. But I also made sure those stops would not encroach on the time we spent at the caves. The boat guy agreed and spelled out our itinerary. “One textile, one whiskey, Buddha Cave,” he sung out, pleased we had reached an agreement. And down a long flight of stairs to his boat we went.

The Mekong is a muddy expanse of water sluggishly moving along its route toward the ocean. Our boat barely managed to outpace its currents as we headed up river. The old wood boat, once painted a vivid blue but now faded dull by the tropic sun, had a low slung roof shading about a dozen low slung wood benches, neither built for the height or length of an American. Fortunately I don’t have the breadth of your average American, or the craft’s sea worthiness would have placed us in a precarious position. We chugged along with the boatman sitting cross-legged on the floor up front while we passed muddy banks and an occasional beached and bleached boat, all looking like they belonged to the same fleet as ours. Occasionally there were a long flight of stairs leading upward from the bank, more often there were nothing but scraggly trees and a muddy barren shoreline to watch as we slowly motored by.

Used to touri and aiming to please, every time I raised my camera for a shot, the driver would cut his engine. A nice gesture except we had a tail wind and every time we stopped the ancient outboard would belch a thick cloud of diesel fumes that would waft forward and engulf us. Taking a shot of our captain, I noticed he was self-conscious, and turned his head away from the lens. So I started using that, first pointing the camera at him and then quickly taking the shot I really wanted when he turned the other way.

on the mekong

El Capitan

Life along the Mekong was pretty mundane. Few boats were on the water, and even fewer people along the banks. The middle of the afternoon is not a good time for fishing, and with the sun at its zenith the only locals dumb enough to be out were kids who all seemed to be having a grand time exploring their little world. We passed a few young monks out on a uncovered boat, it’s length making them appear every smaller than they were. And one group of kids were busy digging for buried treasure in a short, loosely packed cliff of silt and mud. The few adults we passed were all wisely using their afternoon to catch up on their sleep. Noom decided to follow suit.

Twenty minutes into our trip we hit our first stop. The textile village. Not that you would know it. We beached in the mud and the boat guy led us up a steep, high bank of mud to the village some 75 yards above the Mekong to a smattering of authentic local huts, otherwise known as rickety wooden stores. Filled with imported trinkets. A few had textiles for sale. One even had a local woman – though she too may have been imported from Vietnam for all I know – running an old wooden loom and filling small spindles of yarn off of a larger bolt.

One Authentic Textile Village shop had a long open-weave piece in black with designs highlighted in plum and gold running through it that I kinda liked and thought, even if it hadn’t been made in Laos, would make a nice souvenir. The Authentic Textile Villager went into full salesman mode when she noticed me eyeing the tapestry. When I asked the price, the $150 she quoted wasn’t even worth trying to barter down from. At best it was worth $25. And even then I’d have been drastically overpaying. So photos, yes, purchases, no. And ten minutes later we were slip sliding our way down the muddy cliff to our boat once again.

mekong gas station

Mekong Oil: the riverside floating gas station.

The whiskey village was next and this one truly was a local village. And involved another long climb up a muddy cliff. Our boat guy had to ask around to find someone making whisky, or willing to fake it, and finally managed to rouse an old guy who fired up his kiln for no apparent reason and then poured a shot from a jug for us to try. Our boat guy shook his head no. Noom shook his head no. I should have shook my head no too, but it didn’t seem we were going to get to leave until someone tried the brew so I gave it a go. It had the kick of moonshine and the flavor of the effuse that ran down the hill into the river evidencing Laos is not big on cesspools or sewage treatment plants. If you ever get to visit a whiskey making village in Laos, embrace your rep as an Ugly American and just say no.

Back down the mud slide, back onto the boat and after a wide U-turn in the middle of the river we headed back south, the driver cutting the engine to allow the currents to propel the boat down stream. Finally, we were headed to the caves. Which were dead opposite of the bank from which we started our trip. And which, of course, required scaling up another cliff though this time concrete stairs were provided. At the top a cool poured cement expanse overlooked the water below, home to a small altar topped by a red umbrella. A group of old local people were playing music in front of a not too impressive wat and a gaggle of pre-teen girls waited for us to make it up the stairs, calling out a friendly greeting and then demanding 20,000 kip for the cave tour.

Noom’s a child at heart and made fast friends with the young girls, all of whom were suitable impressed with his muscles and thrilled to have a customer who spoke their language. We walked, forever, along a path next to the cliff, passing a few old decrepit huts and a small group of monk residences that were in much better shape than the surrounding buildings. Up another flight of stairs, though a short one this time, the oldest girl unlocked a padlock on a wrought iron gate fronting a set of wooden doors that lead down into the caves. And our cave tour began.

kids along the mekong

Local kids digging for buried treasure along the Mekong.

The tour inside the caves, which should be of no surprise, involved climbing down and later back up a lot of stone stairs. Inside it was dark, dank, and oppressively hot with little fresh air circulating within the system of caves. A string of light bulbs hanging haphazardly on a thin wire stretched down the length of stairs but they were dark. The switch, it turned out, was at the bottom of the main stairway. Further in they’d not even bothered to string lights.

Every few flights of stairs the girls would stop and shine a flashlight at a small Buddha cradled into a tiny niche in the cave’s walls. At one landing several flashlights went on to show off a small grotto where a few old stone pillars laid with yet another small Buddha nestled beside them. At another, a small chedi was the focal point. At each stop as someone’s flashlight clicked on, one of the girls would exclaim, “Buddha!” Noom ate it up, happy to be surrounded by his new posse of friends. I began to smell a rat.

Hundreds of Buddhas lining a well-lit somewhat open to the air cave was the picture I’d seen and the experience I was expecting. Half a dozen plastic Buddhas – each available at the market back in town for a pittance – spaced out along a dark passage was the reality. 1 + 1 was not equalling 2. But we did get to experience a long climb back up the stairs we’d just climbed down, a bonus the guide books had not promised.

luang prabang caves

The premier highlight of our cave tour.

Walking back to check out the wat, the eldest girl was busy trying to convince Noom to buy packages of rice to present to the monks during their early morning alms rounds back over on the Luang Prabang side of the river. That’s another activity to add to the small roster of things to do in Luang Prabang. If you are willing to get up at the break of day. I have to assume it is due to the paucity of things to do coupled with the copious amount of monks in Luang Prabang that have made this such a touri worthy ritual because monks out doing the alms thing in the morning is pretty standard fare everywhere in SE Asia. But it’s such a big thing in Luang Prabang they have posters all over town explaining ‘monk etiquette’ so that touri do their part without screwing with the monks’ karma.

Noom wanted to strike the deal, the girl said she’d bring the food to our hotel the next morning. I asked him if he was going to get up with the sun and got a crestfallen but definite shake of his head in reply. Noom, like all good Buddhists sees merit making as a necessary part of his day. But a 6 A.M wake-up call to do so was too much to ask. I slipped him 20,000 kip to tip the girls instead and the gang was happy.

We spent a few minutes checking the old wat out, it had a nicely decorated portico with Jataka murals fading on its walls, and then said a fond farewell to Noom’s new friends and motored back across the Mekong to our hotel.

Noom and his posse.

Noom and his posse.

Docking onto a partially submerged bamboo landing, our boatman put out his hand for payment with a somewhat worried and sheepish look. And I laughed. Scammed. I had to give him credit, our tour had certainly not been to the Pak Ou Caves, nor were either of our village stops at the places the package tours take you. I was almost disappointed I’d nixed the waterfall part of the trip ‘cuz I’d loved to see what he would have come up with to fill that part of the itinerary. But we’d cut a deal for “One textile, one whiskey, Buddha Cave” and that’s exactly what we’d received. I couldn’t even get mad at the guy, and he seemed to be relieved at that, managing a small chuckle himself.

By the way, I discovered the names of the wat and caves after the fact. The temple we visited is Wat Long Khun, a cool little wat with a gorgeous view back across the water to Luang Prabang. You can arrange a boat ride directly across the Mekong for a visit. And the cave system is the Tham Sakkarin Savvanakuha Cave. Even if you don’t go to the Pak Ou Caves, this one is a poor substitute and hardly worth the effort.

I don’t think Noom ever figured out we’d been scammed. And he probably now thinks I’ve got an obsession with caves because the next day we joined a package tour to get to the real one. Our fake tour cost less than twenty bucks, a trifle amount which probably had a lot to do with why I didn’t get pissed at being scammed. And $20 isn’t a lot of money to pay for a good reminder that when something seems to be too good to be true, it is.

Wat Long Khun

Wat Long Khun’s portico.

I Think I Can

10 Tuesday Jan 2012

Posted by Bangkokbois in Laos, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Luang Prabang, Stupid Tourist Tricks

luang prabang mount phousi

An unsuspecting tourist starts the climb up Mount Phousi’s stairs.

Everyone will tell you that you must head up to the temple on top of Mount Phousi for the sunset in Luang Prabang. Some of them may tell you that involves climbing a set of stairs. Few will tell you those stairs number in the thousands and are spaced along a steep incline leading to the mountain’s peak. So every tourist in town, at least once during their stay, heads up Phousi for the view at dusk. Not all of them make it.

Neither my friend Noom nor I am a weakling. And while some may consider me old, I’m still young enough to tackle pretty much anything I put my mind to. From streetside, the stairs to the top of Mount Phousi do not attempt to hide what is in store. At least at first. What you can’t see is that after that first long steep climb, you’re only a quarter of the way there. The Laotians are a kind people though, and they don’t collect the 20,0000 kip admission fee until you’ve made it to the first landing. At least those who tire out before reaching the true destination don’t get fined for wussing out.

Parents read stories to their children both to entertain them and to provide an early set of morals to live by. I think, even at a young age, our core personalities are already developed. As a child, we gravitate toward those stories that best fit our nature. One of my favorite books as a child was Curious George. But that’s a different story. Another was the fable of the little engine who could, a tale of endurance that taught the virtues of determination and perseverance. That’s a kinder reading than that it taught you to be stubborn.

That tale immediately sprang to mind as I watched an overweight, middle aged, pasty faced woman slowly climbing her way up the first flight of stairs leading to Mount Phousi’s summit. Out of shape and out of breath she could only manage about a dozen steps at a time. Then she’d have to stop, catch her breath, and rest a bit before pushing off upward once again. With each plodding step she made I could hear that little engine who could chuggling, “I think I can, I think I can.”

luang prabang phousi

At the landing streetside is a marvelous old wat with ancient handpainted murals and golden Buddhas.

Sweating profusely, panting like a bitch in heat, she was the kind of person that would be easy for me to be derisive about. She had all the markings. And seemingly deserved whatever cruel comments I’d come up with. Trust me, they would have been funny. But there was determination there too, and that’s what I responded to, calling down a few words of encouragement as she neared the last few dozen steps of her climb. Or at least the first installment. Her response was a rueful shaking of her head as she smiled back up at me. And then she made a few more steps of forward progress.

Noom and I had stopped for a break at the first landing. There’s a pretty incredible view even from that low height. Neither of us was winded and needed a rest. But Noom has a need to mark his spot wherever we go in a foreign land, and with a public restroom insight, we needed to stop so he could go piss on Laos. Having already taken in the view of the quaint town below, I traded that scenic splendor in for a view of my fellow touri climbing their way up the stairs. Meanwhile, a younger couple walked by and asked if I’d already been to the top.

“Nope, sorry.”

“We just wanted to know if it was worth the climb.”

Today’s youth is into instant gratification, The idea of having to work for reward is a foreign concept to them. Raised on television and movie previews they want to know about all the good parts before making a commitment. In my best wise old Shao Lin monk voice I said, “Sorry Grasshopper, life is not a movie trailer.”

Muttering, “Asshole,” they turned and started their climb.

Noom finished his business about the same time as the old lady made base camp. He was ready to go. She was ready to die. Thinking she was a solo traveller I waited a bit to make sure she was not only going to catch her breath, but continue breathing for the foreseeable future. It was rough going, but she got her breathing under control about the same time she was joined by a group of five other touri of slightly advanced age. Her travel mates. One of the group was her husband, the others close friends from her hometown who were travelling through SE Asia on an extended tour. None of them seemed proud of her accomplishment None seemed ready to take the obvious break she needed. Instead, the husband issued the group’s collective judgement on her capabilities. “We’re going up. If you think you can make it you can follow us and maybe we’ll see you on top.”

Ouch. Nice. With friends like that who needs pushy German tourists to ruin your day?

moount phousi chedi

The small gold stupa at Mount Phousi’s summit.

I continually confound my friends and acquaintances. Just when they start thinking I’m a nice guy, I do something to convince them I’m a bastard. Just when they have decided I’m a complete asshole, I make some unexpected grand gesture that qualifies for sainthood. You might as well get used to it too. In this case, it wasn’t so much about being nice as it was about spite. The old lady’s traveling group had pissed me off. I walked over, introduced myself, lied about being winded too, and offered to be her companion on the remaining trek to the top.

Noom is a bit more transparent in his motives. As gregarious as he usually is, the idea of an hour long hike to cover a twenty minute walk didn’t appeal to him. Like the bastards before him, he said a hasty ‘later’ and headed upward on his own.

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Fortunately the gods were with me on this one and the old lady turned out to be an amiable companion. If you ignore having to stop and listen to her wheeze every dozen or so stairs we managed to put behind us. At the first rest stop she made excuses for her husband. At the second, for herself. At the third, proving absence does not in fact make the heart grow fonder, she changed her tune about hubby. ‘My husband’ become ‘that bastard.’ Not an American fortunately, by the next rest stop she no longer was quite as wound up about herself and was instead ready to talk about Laos.

I mentioned that I had spoken with a woman in Bangkok who’d just returned from Luang Prabang and that she’d said there were a less imposing set of stairs at the backside of the mountain. The old lady knew of them, they were near where they were staying. Concerned my new companion would be for longer than planned, I asked her what she planned on doing about her group and getting back to their hotel if she failed to summit. She smiled, nodded her head, and replied, “I have the only key to our room.”

Wat  Wat Tham Mo Thayaram

At Wat Wat Tham Mo Thayaram, Noom implores The Buddha to help us make it back down to civilization in one piece.

Regardless of a new acquaintance and gorgeous views, when your entire world is all about making it to the next step, your conversation becomes limited too. I mentioned that it would be nice to get to the top and find a cool drink of water. “Yes, my husband is probably thirsty by now,” she said. “Too bad I have all of the money.”

I was beginning to like this woman. And then laughed, realizing I too had all the money and my companion who had gone up without me would also have to wait for my arrival to quench his thirst. We only made it another three steps before having to stop again, this time not from being winded but because we were laughing too much, finding much mirth in the fact that those abandoned held all the keys. Literally.

The climb continued, we hit a rhythm. The higher we went, the more kind the architects of the stairways were. After a dozen or so steep steps there were level areas with no stairs, a perfect spot to stop and let those behind you pass. The old lady blamed her inability to scale the mountain quickly on the fact her party had spent the day on a tour of the river. They’d visited a textiles village, a village that made whiskey, and some caves. Each stop involved a long, steep set of stairs from the river up to the attraction. We’d done that trip the day before. Which is why we had waited for the next day before making the excursion to the top of Mt. Phousi. Not that you can avoid stairs any day of your visit, they pop up with a reassuring regularity everywhere in Luang Prabang.

mount phousi sunset

Your reward for making it to the top of Mount Phousi: A beautiful sunset on one side . . .

The last course of stairs before the peak were more of a ramp, that put your head level with the feet of those in front of you. But it is a long ramp, and a rather rude tease; your destination seems so close and yet still a climb away. It took us another two rest stops to make it. The old lady’s smile when we made the top was one of accomplishment. And relief. And possibly the need for medical help. I rushed off to get her a bottle of water. And to avoid being identified as a companion in case she collapsed and died.

I found my friend Noom inside the small chapel, talking with Buddha as he is wont to do when we visit a wat, undoubtedly asking his god’s help in hurrying my climb along. The views atop Mount Phousi are beautiful. But that’s about all there is to do once you reach the summit: sit and look at the surrounding town and wait for the sun to set. Noom had checked the area out and was ready to leave. I was not quite so enamored with the idea of seeing another set of stairs that soon and went to check on the old lady’s state. Her gang had evidently seen all there was to see too, and ditched her, stranding her on top of the mountain. Climbing Mount Everest, it is a matter of survival; you leave the dead and dying to their fate. I don’t know that that is the right tack to take in a small Lao village filled with Buddhist temples. And while I didn’t consider my karma at stake, being the second party to abandon the old lady seemed unnecessarily cruel. So after a long rest, she had two strapping men to help her on her decent.

luang prabang

. . . and a sweeping view of the backside of town on the other.

Noom had found another set of steps, a shorter route down, but not the stairs that led toward the old lady’s hotel. They did, however, lead to a small restaurant at riverside, and with seating available and protected by shady trees, we made our final rest stop, quickly ordering a round of drinks. With only the need to raise her glass qualifying as physical exertion things were looking up and the old lady turned out to be an amiable companion, telling us about the other places she and her friends had visited on their trip. That reminded her of her lost party and she laughed again. “They must be getting awfully hungry by now,” she said referencing the fact she held the group’s money.

We all had a laugh at their expense, envisioning their search for the lady they left behind. And their hotel key. And cash. The last place they’d expect to find her was sitting at this small cafe shooting shots of tequila. “Another round?” I suggested with no concern to her companions’ fate.

The old lady smiled, payback in mind, and replied, “I think I can.”

Wat Xieng Thong: All That Glitters Is Not Gold

03 Tuesday Jan 2012

Posted by Bangkokbois in Laos, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

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Luang Prabang, Wats

Wat Xieng Thong

The graceful architecture of Wat Xieng Thong’s ubusot.

Being neither mad dogs or Englishmen, it was time to get out of the hot midday sun. Or at least time to quit walking in it. Sisavangvong Road, the main tourist drag in Luang Prabang isn’t all that long. It’s walkable from one end to the other, but only if you really feel the need. We didn’t. Plus we were working off a hand drawn map of the town furnished by our hotel. The marked locations of sites worthy of a visit were approximated at best. Meaning they were chalked in somewhere on the paper. We’d already learned a quarter of inch on the map could mean the distance of two buildings or a dozen blocks.

Our goal was the Golden Wat, Xieng Thong one of the towns more famous temples and one that all guide books and websites noted as a must-see. Fortunately it was famous enough that the tuk tuk driver we stopped to haggle with knew right where it was. And for a measly 10,000 kip (down from the 50,000 he’d started with) the ride was ours.

Wat Xieng Thong

Luang Prabang’s Golden Wat glimmers in shades of blues and greens.

There are a lot of wats in Luang Prabang and we’d already checked out a few handfuls during the trip. Within a minute or two of heading off in our tuk tuk, my friend Noom pointed out a low slung temple complex brimming with novice monks, suggesting we stop there on the way back. Noted, location somewhat affixed in mind, we sailed down Sisavangvong Road to its end, followed a short road down toward the river and soon arrived at our destination: a nice set of stairs to climb to get up to Wat Xieng Thong.

Wat Xieng Thong is considered to be the most beautiful temple in Laos. Built where the Nam Khan flows into the Mekong River during the golden years of Lan Xang Kingdom, its gracefully sloping roof and glass murals epitomize the classical Luang Prabang style of temple architecture. Until 1975, when the Communist Party gained control over Laos, Wat Xieng Thong was a royal temple. It was the place where the former kings of Laos were crowned. Now it is the final resting place of one of Laos’ last royal families.

Wat Xieng Thong Buddha

Wat Xienh Thong’s central Buddha.

Gold is not an unusual color to find in Buddhist wats. The small temple by our hotel positively glowed so much gold had been used in its decoration. So I was expecting some major bling at the Golden Wat. And that’s the first thing you notice about Wat Xieng Thong. It’s not gold. After the buildup that would have been disappointing except instead of gold they went with aqua, an unusual color for a wat. The myriad shades of greens and blues glittering off glass mosaic statuary and the base of the ubosot mimic the colors of the Mekong flowing past its main entrance. It’s a striking color scheme and the expansive grounds are dotted with small temples and chapels, shrines and pavilions, and shady garden areas filled with colorful ornamental shrubs and trees blazing with blossoms.

Wat Xieng Thong doorway

The interior of the bot is covered in gold leafed scenes of village life.

The bot is painted a glossy black lacquer and decorated with figures and symbols in gold leaf. There’s plenty of gold evidenced by the gilded entrance too. The ubosot’s boundary stones (bai sema) however are covered in glass tiles; they are large lotus blossom figures in jewel tones of blue and green, much more distinct than bai sema usually are. The exterior was remolded and redecorated in the 1960s, but inside you are quickly transported back a hundred years.

Even with the doors and wood shutters open, the interior of the bot is dark. But the illumination offered by candles and small lanterns add an earthy glow to the Buddha statues and images, and is bright enough that you can make out the small figures in gold leaf that illustrate the daily activities of a Lao village on its walls and doors.

Wat Xieng Thong naga

Two of the seven naga of the King’s cremation chariot.

Across the courtyard, a carved and gilded building is the home to the cremation chariot and funeral urns of the Lao Royal Family. The building also serves as a depository for hundreds of carved wooden Buddha statues. Its interior walls are covered with mosaics that show scenes from the Ramayana. But it is the massive funeral urns and chariot that get the attention of visitors. My friend Noom, having discovered the day before that the Lao people had killed their King and Queen during the 1970s, clicked his tongue in disgust and went off to find a Buddha to talk the matter over with. Different set of dead royals in the funerary hall though.

Wat Xieng Thong Buddhas

Old Buddha statues are stacked along the walls of the funerary hall.

The three large sandalwood urns contain the ashes of King Sisavang Vong, who ruled from 1904 to 1946, and his mother and father (the ashes of the Queen are at a nearby wat). It was built in 1962 to house the 40 foot high gilded wooden royal carriage that was used to carry the remains of King to his cremation near Wat That Luang. Incredibly ornate, the hearse is dominated by seven nagas with gaping jaws and prominent fangs at its prow and an elaborate red canopy supported by gilded and ornate columns at its center.

Wat Xieng Thong Red Chapel

Noom checks out the Red Chapel

Wat Xieng Thong’s wiharn is often called the Red Chapel, the exterior is covered with pinkish colored stucco inlaid with brightly colored glass mosaics that illustrate both religious activities and everyday Lao traditional village life. Inside is a bronze reclining Buddha statue fashioned in the classic Lao style and clad in flowing robes. The interior is decorated with gold stencils on red walls with numerous small gold Buddhas attached to the walls.

Wat Xieng Thong

The Tripitaka Library sits directly behind Wat Xieng Thong’s ubosot.

Nearby and similar in look to the Red Chapel is the small but exquisite Tripitaka Library which historically houses the three baskets of Theravada Buddhist scriptures. The Seated Buddha Pavilion, a more modern construction than the other structures within the complex, is tucked into a shady spot by the Tripitaka Library and features a life-sized seated Buddha in the Calling the Earth to Witness position.

Wat Xieng Thong saffron

The bot at Wat Xieng Thong is filled with Buddha statues draped in gold and saffron.

After close to two hours of touring the temple we decided to exit toward town rather than toward the river where we came in. A short walk, with no stairs involved, took us back out onto Sisavangvong Road. And half a block down the street was the wat Noom had pointed out when we were in the tuk tuk. I’m not sure if the driver took us the long way around so we’d feel like we’d gotten value for our $1.25 ride, or, being Laotian, knew the experience just wouldn’t be the same if we didn’t have a flight of stairs to climb to get there.

Wat Xieng Thong is opened daily from 6:00 am to 6:00 pm. Admission is 20,000 kip.

I’d Like To Buy A ‘S’ Pat

13 Tuesday Dec 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Laos, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

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Luang Prabang

cute laotians

The people of Laos are known as Lao. Um, or Laotians. Ah the hell with it, let’s go with ‘cute.’

The burning question of the day is: Is it Laos or Lao? The best answer is to take the Thai bar boy way out: It’s up to you. Experts all have their opinion and depending on who you listen to, either or both are the correct spelling. The locals seem to be as clueless and even the government spells it both ways. The best answer I could find was to spell it ‘Laos’ and pronounce it ‘Lao’, not necessarily because that was any more accurate than any other suggestion but rather seemed to be an even-handed, split the baby in half approach.

Before my most recent trip to SE Asia, I needed to get pages added to my passport. That meant calling the passport agency for an appointment. The helpful government employee I finally got on line couldn’t transfer me over to the automatic appointment line (that took four calls to accomplish) but went out of his way to be of assistance, asking a million questions, none of which I needed his help with. One was which countries I’d be visiting. So he could tell me about any necessary visas. I already had that info but played along anyway. (He sounded cute. And yes, I am that easy.) He did fine on Thailand. And only took an extra few minutes to figure out how to spell Indonesia. But Laos stumped him. He’d never heard of it and could not find it on his list. Duh. Turned out he’d gone for the third spelling option and had been hunting for the country known as Louse.

According to Wikipedia, the country was originally three Laotian kingdoms, so the French – who were no more successful in colonizing Laos than they were with Vietnam – called it Laos as a plural. What everyone does seem to agree on is that the people of both Laos and Lao are referred to as Lao. Or Laotians. Um, okay then, what everyone does seem to agree on is that the beer is called Lao.

beer lao

Clearly, and I checked a good six dozen times, the proper spelling is Lao.

The Thais I know all use Lao rather than Laos. The two languages, Thai and Lao, are similar and locals from both countries can understand each other. The Thai greeting of Sawatadee in Lao is Sabaidee; the genderizing kop or ka used in Thailand does not seem to be used in Laos. I noticed my Thai friend Noom used the Lao greeting, and then switched to Thai for conversations. Whether he spoke Thai or Lao the locals all seemed thrilled to be speaking anything other than English and greeted him warmly. Speaking the local lingo did not, however, give him an edge when bartering at the markets. No friendly neighbor discounts; he was still considered a touri and expected to pay visitor prices.

Many of the wats in Luang Prabang charge an admission fee. At least the larger more popular ones do. The fee is not much, usually around 20,000 kip per person (about $2.50). Locals, who use the wats as places of worship, are not charged the admission fee, nor are local guides shepherding groups of touri through the city. Noom quickly caught on to this price structure and faked being Lao to avoid paying the fee. And then, knowing me well enough, kept an eye out to make sure I didn’t pay his admission anyway – he’s quite frugal with my money; though it may come from my wallet he considers it our money when we travel together.

I kept an eye peeled at the markets for merchandise bearing the country’s name, figuring that would be the real test. Ah, the best laid plans. It was pretty much a draw, some stuff used Lao, some had the word spelled as Laos. I should known better, all the souvenirs in both Lao and Laos come from Thailand and are made in Vietnam. But then walking back to our hotel on our last morning in town, I found a local product proudly bearing an official Made In Laos sign, so that’s the spelling I’m going with:

made in laos

Evidently the one product they actually make in Laos is garbage.

Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?

15 Tuesday Nov 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Laos, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

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Luang Prabang, Money Matters

luang prabang market vendors

Millionaires in the making.

For a mere $125, you too can be a millionaire. At least you can in Laos. Exchange your dollars for kip, the local currency, and you’ll walk away with 1,000,000. Nice to be rich, huh? Bulging wallet aside, will your new found riches mean that you live like a king? (Or queen for those of you who have that preference?) Well, kinda sorta. Laos, or more specifically Luang Prabang, can be cheap. Luang Prabang can also be expensive. The line between the two is a hazy one and it really will be up to you.

Pre-visit research on the internet will tell you the smart money is on bringing lots of American dollars or Thai baht in small denominations. The word on the internet is that not unlike Cambodia, in Laos the local currency is not much favored. Internet pundits will tell you that everyone in town accepts both U.S. dollars and Thai baht, and the only kip you’ll see will be what is handed back to you in change. They’re partially correct. Everyone does accept baht and bucks. And loves when you pay in those currencies. Because they’ll make a few more kip off you through that transaction. They are wrong about not exchanging your currency for kip: load up, in the long-run it’ll be cheaper for you to do so.

Everywhere you go (almost) prices are quoted in kip. Didn’t exchange any of your foreign currency for their worthless paper? No problemo. The vendor from whom you are making a purchase, from the old hag selling betel nut at the morning market to the not quite as old hag running the hotel you’re staying at, will gladly re-quote the price in baht or US dollars. But math isn’t their strong point so they use a higher exchange rate, one that has been rounded up in favor of the kip. You’ll end up paying more for the convenience of not using their currency.

luang prabang money exchange

Money exchange booths can easily be found along Sisavangvong Road.

Sisavangvong Road, the main touri drag, is littered with small exchange booths. The rates are all similar with but a small fluctuations between one booth and the next. The money exchangers tend to be honest (no need to count your haul three times like in Bali), the transaction is quick. No one spends an hour holding your bills to the sky to ensure they are legit, nor will anyone send you packing kip-less because your bill has a slight smear of dirt on the lower right hand corner. Other SE Asian country money exchangers should take a lesson from the Lao.

The one bit advice off the internet that holds true is the warning about over-exchanging. Beyond Laos’ borders kip is worthless and you won’t find anyone who will take it. So be gentle in the amount you do change into local currency. You really don’t need one big wad, you can easily exchange small amounts daily. The best rate I ran across was 7980 kip to the dollar. The worse, 7960.

How long that kip will last you will depend a lot on how careful you are in spending it. Rule #1 is to vow to only spend kip. There are sporadic shops along Sisavangvong Road whose prices are in U.S. dollars. Perhaps the smaller number appeals to them. Making a killing off a single sale obviously does. These places are all overpriced. I looked at a silver and stone pendant at one place that caught my eye because it’s one I sell back home. At 95 kip it was a steal. But their price wasn’t in kip, it was priced in dollars. That particular piece of jewelry wholesales at about $1.25. Nice mark-up. I need to move to Laos.

Somethings in Luang Prabang are cheap. Tuk tuk rides around town run 10,000 kip ($1.25). Rides to the outskirts of town can go as high as 50,000 kip roundtrip, which is still inexpensive. Bottles of juice or tea that cost sixty cents in Thailand run the equivalent of sixty two cents in Luang Prabang.

cheap dinner in luang prabang

The $1.25 Buffet Dinner spread.

There is a small soi by the night market that has a few dozen vendors selling buffet dinners for 10,0000 kip, if you want to add a nice hunk of barbecued meat to your plate, add another 20,000 kip. And a yummy filled donut that melts in your mouth for dessert is only 4,000 kip. Beer Lao, depending on the restaurant, runs 9,000 kip ($1.12) and up. T-shirts at the night market for travel bragging rights, if you barter hard, can be had for 25,000 kip ($3.15).

If you are a smoker, a pack of Marlboro is only 15,000 kip ($1.85). But you know smoking is bad for you. In Laos it’ll kill you even quicker. If you are trying to quit smoking, try a pack of Lao Marlboro; if that doesn’t do the trick then you are a true masochist.

Prices at cafes and restaurants seem to have more to do with the owner’s whim than quality of the establishment or food. Dinner for two with beer or wine can run from 50,000 kip to . . . well, how high do you want to go? There are places in town offering cheap backpacker breakfasts (10,000 kip) and others offering the same meal for 40,000 kip. All restaurants display menus out front; it pays to shop around.

Hotel prices in Luang Prabang are not a deal. There are cheap digs to be had, at least cheap for Luang Prabang, but if you want a few basic amenities – like a bed – expect to pay at least $50. A somewhat nicer place to rest your head will run you closer to $100. The place we stayed at was a block off Sisavangvong Road and sat right next to the morning market. The room was large, came with free breakfast as well as the world’s slowest internet connection. In Bangkok that room would have been in the 1,700 baht range, in Luang Prabang it ran $90 a night.

luang prabang

Yeah, but what price paradise?

Yup, you too can become an instant millionaire in Luang Prabang. But not for long. It’s not the third world deal you’ll find in Cambodia or Burma. Dollar for dollar it’s more in line with Bangkok. But then paradise has never come cheap, and this sleepy little World Heritage City overflowing with wats and monks is worth however many kip it costs.

Luang Prabang, A Stairway To Heaven: Arrivals, Transportation . . . And Stairs

06 Sunday Nov 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Laos, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

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Luang Prabang, Transportation

Luang Prabang Sunset

Luang Prabang Sunset

You don’t have to spend much time in Thailand to realize that Thais are in love with elephants. You don’t have to spend a lot of time in Laos to realize Laotians are in love with stairs. Preferably exceptionally steep sets that seem to go on forever. Planning on visiting Luang Prabang? Consider spending a few months on your StairMaster at home before you even think about it. While there, you can forget about picking up any T shirts, bumper stickers, decals, or other ‘I-visited-Luang-Prabang’ souvenirs; anyone in the know will take one look at your thighs of steel and immediately realize you’ve recently been to Luang Prabang. They bill the town as a World Heritage City, they should promote it instead as extreme exercise tourism.

Everywhere you go in Luang Prabang you’ll be greeted by stairs. If the gods are with you, it’ll only be a few planted on top of each other leading into a cafe, a store, or the room at your hotel. Wats, of which there are a few thousand in this small provincial town, tend to enjoy a good display of stairs too, though some don’t get carried away and only require you to scale a short flight; sometime no more than needed to adequately accommodate the shoes of visitors.

But then any temple compound really worth seeing requires a bit of work. Nothing in life is free, all good things require some effort. So expect to climb at least a flight of 30 – 40 stairs to gain entrance to the more popular wats in town. And don’t complain. Because if you are headed for the #1 ‘must-see, must-do” attraction in Luang Prabang (which, of course includes a temple) then you’re looking at over one thousand steps. All of them singularly short and collectively steep. Which won’t pose a problem except for the truly frail. But you won’t meet that particular work-out until late in your day. Which means you’ll have already spent a good eight hours scaling enough stairs you’ll wonder why there are no sherpas available for hire in Luang Prabang. And marvel that unlike climbing Mt. Everest – an only slightly more gruelling task – that your path isn’t littered with the dead and decaying bodies of those who came before you but didn’t quite have what it took to reach the summit.

luang Prabang stairs

Stairway to Heaven, or at least to a wat.

But don’t let the idea of all that exercise put you off. Luang Prabang is worth the effort. It’s a little slice of Heaven in SE Asia. Think Chiang Mai about twenty years ago. Except with less backpackers. The Lao people are warm, friendly, and accommodating. The little town a jewel filled with wonderful surprises at every turn. And up every flight of stairs. There are no McDonalds. There are no 7/11s. And best of all: there are no Starbucks. But then one sip of Lao coffee – at least for true coffee aficionados – and you’ll understand why Starbucks wouldn’t dare show its face anywhere near Luang Prabang.

I’m sure Laotians are aghast that they were unable to find a good excuse to throw in a few flights of stairs at the airport in Luang Prabang. It’s undoubtedly a national disgrace. Unable to go with the literal though, they went with the figurative. Getting to Luang Prabang is no easy feat. And upon arrival they’ve carefully laid out steps for visitors to follow.

You can take a bus down from Vientiane, the Lao capital and its largest city. You can also bus in, kinda, sorta, from Thailand. Both are inexpensive trips. But then since both involve riding a bus, neither is an acceptable option in my book. I love travel in SE Asia. As long as it involves a plane. Preferably one that will land safely. Flying in from Thailand means either Lao Air or Bangkok Airways. Landing safely means Bangkok Airways, an airline I’ve come to love. But they are well known for steep prices on routes that offer no competition. So be prepared to pay dearly for the short flight. And be prepared to fly on a plane that still uses the outdated technology of propellers.

Baby monks on the Mekong

Baby monks on the Mekong

Upon arrival at the quaint little airport Lao officialdom has laid out a series of steps for you to go through to enter their country. It’d be long lines and a major hassle if Luang Prabang was a more popular destination. Or if more airlines flew there. Instead the process takes less than half an hour. Step one is the first line whose sole purpose is for you to hand in your passport and your photograph for your visa. Forgot to bring a photo? No problemo. For a buck they’ll handle that for you. Of course for a buck ‘handling’ it means taking your money. You’ll never pose for a picture nor will you ever see one taken of you. There won’t be one on your visa. But its a small expense, and if it’s your first visit to SE Asia, a wonderful introduction to the area and its odd brand of logic.

Step #2 is line #2, where you pay your visa fee and get your passport back, hopefully with your visa attached. The cost of the visa depends on your home country. Visitors from most European countries pay $30. Americans pay $35. You can pay in baht or US dollars, but the baht exchange rate is bad and that option ends up costing more. There’s also a $3 processing fee.

Step #3, in case you haven’t guessed, is line #3. This is where two immigration officials review your passport, act surprised to find a Lao visa in it, pass your passport back and forth a few times, and then finally stamp their mark of approval in it to clear you entry into their county. Laos, in case you didn’t know it, is a communist country. It’s wonderful to see that there is little difference between communist and capitalist government workers. And should belay any concerns you might have had about entering a communist country. Same, same, but really not so different after all.

luang prabang stairs

Yup. More stairs

After collecting your luggage, a few dozen steps (but no stairs yet) will take you outside for a ride into town. If you didn’t arrange transpo with your hotel, there is a taxi desk set up immediately outside the arrivals door. Which is immediately adjacent to the departures door. And yes, you can depart from the arrivals door and arrive from the departures door. I checked. That’s the kind of thing I do. And why I tend to get into trouble so often.

The cost for a ride into town is fixed at $6. That covers up to three people. Your taxi will actually be a mini van. And you share the ride with as many touri as they can cram into the van. But it’s a short ride into town and even with dropping off your fellow visitors at their hotels first, you’ll still be at your new home within a half of an hour.

Word is that just outside the fence surrounding the airport unauthorized tuk tuks can be had. I only saw one. Like with tuk tuks all over SE Asia, you can barter for the price of your ride into town. And while you may pay more, the lowest they will go is $6. Uh, taxi? The transpo area is also the first place you’ll encounter stairs in Luang Prabang. Three of them. They’ve also provided a short ramp next to the stairs, just to fool you. My advice is to take the stair option. You need to slowly break your system into their use and this will be the shortest staircase you’ll find on your trip.

Sisavangvong Road Luang Prabang

Sisavangvong Road

Goggling info about Luang Prabang before your trip you’ll often read that the town is so small its walkable, or at least rideable by bike. What those previous visitors really mean is that Sisavangvong Road, the main street in the touri area is walkable. Even adding in the frontage road along the rivers, its still just a stroll from one end of town to the other. But the town itself is much larger than the area than most touri play in, so don’t be fooled. You may want to broaden your journey of discovery. And that means hiring a tuk tuk. But let me dispense with that bike thingy first.

Yes, languorously peddling a bike through dappled sunlight along the quaint streets of this riverside town is a picturesque idea. If you are young. And if you regularly ride a bike back home. Remember those stairs I was telling you about? Well guess what set of muscles riding a bike and climbing stairs has in common? Don’t know? Well you will after one day of engaging in both activities. Or you will if you can get out of bed the next day. If you are well-toned and hit the gym regularly back home, go for it. If not, save yourself from the suffering. There are enough stairs in your immediate future, you won’t be missing out on any pain by passing on the bike ride.

Around town tuk tuks are cheap. They run between 5,000 and 10,000 kip per passenger. That’d be sixty cents to a buck and a quarter. Like with tuk tuks throughout SE Asia, bartering for the price is part of the ride. But Luang Prabang’s tuk tuk drivers are not as aggressive as you’ll find elsewhere, and after their initial ridiculous asking price you can just name yours and hop in. Also unlike elsewhere, you can actually walk past a tuk tuk without being hit up for a ride. Sure a few will sing out a hopeful “tuk tuk?’ as you pass, but most drivers are content with just watching you pass by. They know it’s a short walk to wherever you’re headed too. Besides, a nap is a better way for them to spend the afternoon than shepherding your ass around their town.

luang prabang tuk tuks

The Lao version of a tuk tuk.

There are two types of tuk tuks available in Luang Prabang. The one with part of a motorcycle attached is for short jaunts around town. They are used by locals and touri alike. The other is a bit larger, a small – and I mean small – truck. These are for longer trips. No problem if you are not sure which to use for your destination. If you get it wrong the driver will direct you to his buddy with the correct vehicle.

Walking, a bike, tuk tuk #1, tuk tuk #2, or a boat for destinations along either the Mekong or Nam Khan river, the choice of how you get to where you are going is up to you. What you have little choice of is once you arrive, there will be stairs involved. You may not notice all the stairways the first day or two of your visit. By day three, your thighs will groan every time you hit a new touri spot. Deal with it. As much of a pain climbing all those stairs may be, in Luang Prabang whatever is waiting for you up top is well worth the effort.

The Old Folk

02 Wednesday Nov 2011

Posted by Bangkokbois in Laos, Travel Tales from Beyond Thailand

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Luang Prabang, Photography

All of a sudden I find myself being drawn to the old folk. At least when it comes to photography. Or maybe that should be only when it comes to photography. Old faces just seem to have so much character. It’s as though the person’s entire life has been mapped on their face. There is a life in all those wrinkles.

Even more astonishing than my fascination with the ancient, I seem to be drawn to little kids now too. And that would definitely be only when it comes to photography. The old folk thing I can understand. The kids, hell I don’t even like little kids. In any case, I’m only sharing a few shots of old folk with you in this post. And in my defense on the young: I still think every baby ever born in the world is a homely little thing. So when I get around to posting the kiddy shots, they won’t be of babies.

old lao man

. . . and still a backpacker.

You know this guy has had a rough life. I only saw the previous ten minutes of it though. That’s how long it took him to climb a rather lengthy and steep set of stairs leading up to a wat in Luang Prabang. Stairs are big in LP. They’re everywhere. You can’t avoid them. I didn’t look this worn out by the end of the trip, but sure felt like it. I know LP is a Heritage City, but I think they could still put in a few escalators every now and then. If not for me, then at least out of pity for this old local dude.

money shot

The Money Shot

You’ll see this ladies again I’m sure. I fell in love with their greed and shot a few dozen photos of them over the course of a few days. They had a stall, or I guess technically a blanket, at the morning market in Luang Prabang. They sold betel nuts tied in fanciful baskets. Most of their business was to other vendors. They seemed to have cornered the woven betel nut basket wholesale business in town. And were making a killing. But to keep things in perspective, that basket of cash is holding about $20. But still a tidy sum for locals in Luang Prabang. And I bet they hired someone to carry them up the stairs to the local wat, too.

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