Finding Gratitude And Relaxation In Laos

I’m happy that Laos in the middle of my SE Asia itinerary. Why? — It is the perfect place to slow down after so much moving around. The number of sights I’ve checked off on my To Do List on recent stops has become fewer and fewer, and once I left Luang Prabang I stopped caring about doing much of anything.

I’ve felt a bit lazy, sometimes a little burnt out — but I need to take time to relax. Laos, in all it’s beauty has sometimes felt like a repeat of places I’ve already been, which naturally gave me a free pass to chill out. Rolling into the town of Vang Vieng I felt a striking similarity to the area of Ninh Binh in Vietnam. Both are set amongst dramatic limestone karsts. Part of me wanted to get out and sightsee, and the other part craved a true day off. So, I gave myself both in the two days I spent.

Vang Vieng is infamous for hosting “tipsy tubing” tours on the Nam Song River, popular amongst the backpacker crowd. I’d had heard that people died from drowning while intoxicated on tours in the past, and that the number of river bars had been reduced for safety. The whole thing sounded like Laos’ one annoying (and potentially dangerous) tourist trap, and the town itself (also like Ninh Binh) seemed designed solely for tourism.

On my first day I rented a mountain bicycle for a couple dollars and rode west between the hills and limestone karsts. It was all very similar to the scenery of northern Vietnam, but still undeniably gorgeous.

The area west of Vang Vieng has six Blue Lagoons, and I took my bicycle to the second one. The road became gravel and extremely bumpy the closer I got to the lagoon. It’s just part of the rustic charm of Laos, I kept reminding myself. The lagoons looked touristy from the signs along the road, but to my surprise the entrance fee was 10 Kip (50 cents) and there were mostly Lao tourists. I backed out of jumping into the lagoon from a 20 foot-tall platform, only to watch Lao people jump and even dive as I sat nearby. That afternoon I rode to the nearby Nam Xay viewpoint, where one could hike up and get their photo taken with a motorbike cemented in place (and a Lao flag) at the viewpoint. For my photo I opted to pose in a reclined position, as if I were sleeping — a common sight in SE Asia!

My second day in Vang Vieng was spent poolside, Beerlao in hand, rereading Elizebeth Eaves’ travel memoir titled Wanderlust (a book I’ve come to relate more and more to since I found it in a downtown Chicago bookstore in 2019). With my wardrobe in SE being mostly tank tops I also relished in the chance to even out my tan. I’m still working on enjoying the art of doing nothing.

From Vang Vieng it was a brief two hour bus ride to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. I was shocked at how cramped the mini-vans have been, particularly when the alternative is an often sold-out but modern train. I can stay composed on uncomfortable bus rides, but lots of my fellow backpackers just simply … cannot. At one point I almost gave up my comfier window seat just to get my seat-mate to stop complaining about her pull-out isle seat.

SE Asia has truly had some of the most annoying *groups* of travelers I’ve ever witnessed. Plz Plz friends — stop making experiences negative for the rest of us and look for ways to find gratitude — no matter how uncomfortable or slow things may be. I mean, here we’re steeped in the famously slow pace of Laos … your bus most likely won’t depart on time, and a lot of comforts from developed nations won’t be found here.

While Luang Prabang is wildly underrated and Vang Vieng is infamously touristy — the Lao capital city is rarely discussed. It seems to be used solely as an entrance or departure point, having one of the two main international airports in the country. Everyone says you only need a day in Vientiane. I gave myself two days, and intended to find ways to entertain myself.

Like Luang Prabang, Vientiane sits alongside the Mekong River — but here the border with Thailand is visible on the other side. On my first evening I walked to the riverside, where an orange creamsicle sunset filled the sky, and the sun fell directly across the river. Poor Thailand, I thought — their side wouldn’t have this view. Nearby the night market had just opened, and I did a pass through — mostly enjoying the smell of new clothes for sale, as if I were walking through an indoor shopping mall.

Speaking of shopping malls, on my second day in Vientiane I went to explore the Parkson Mall. I enjoy malls more than most would like to admit, and I was absolutely fascinated by this one. The ground floor and the basement food court were the only fully functioning spaces in the five story building — a soon to be opened Starbucks (probably the first ever in Laos) sat advertising positions for hire. The second floor was completely vacant, except for a portion containing a free art gallery in place of shops. (If you read my last post on Nong Khiaw you may recognize the image above).

There was literally nothing on the third floor, nothing but beams and columns separating half finished rooms. Entire sections were dark without windows, yet nothing was closed off. Continuing up to the fourth and fifth floors suddenly I found myself in a large furniture and home goods store. Shopping malls are typically amongst the most polished public spaces in developing countries, and for this reason I was perplexed how this one could be both so functional and non-functional at the same time.

Laos was both stunningly beautiful and incredibly frustrating… however charming nonetheless. Part of me hopes that the Starbucks never opens, same for the Hard Rock Cafe in downtown Vientiane. There is a feeling of remoteness no matter where you are in this country, a feeling that was more difficult to find in neighboring countries. Things here are bound to continue developing, just like anywhere — but I’m glad I was able to experience it before it changes too much.

Next up: “The Unexpected Joys of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia“