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donations
Some waterfalls aren’t meant to be found. I’m looking at a wooden outrigger anchored to the concrete pier, down some steep steps at the edge of the tiny dusty settlement of Ban Phon Kham. We’ve ridden our bicycles down to the rivers edge to see if someone will take us on the hour long boat ride to Wang Fong waterfall upstream in Nam Kading national park, but the lack of security for our fully loaded bikes and windiness of the day has made Justin an unwilling partner. Its the same price for one person so he suggests I go alone.
The wind started on our second day heading south from Vientiane, seeming to hit us head on no matter which direction we cycled. We wish we had a thermometer as we couldn’t tell if was really cold, or just relatively cold compared to the mid-30s days we’d become accustomed too. Having just witnessed a bunch of local fishermen (and woman) load up a boat and disappear into the river, it doesn’t take me long to reconsider. I’m seriously doubting that this blustery day will be a good day to travel upstream by tiny outboard motor.
We had started south on Route 13, the highway which links Vientiane to Pakse and the Cambodian border to the south, but at Vieng Kham planned to veer off to the east to pick up ‘The Loop’, an off-the-beaten path track popular with travellers on rented motorcycles. This would take us past several tourist-friendly caves, to the edges of four national parks and within spitting distance of Vietnam, before turning back West to rejoin the main road at Thakhek.
With the waterfall still not located after our detour to the ferry departure point, and another unsuccessful attempt following a dirt road that led into the same national park (stuck this time with fully loaded touring bikes on a yet to be completed road hewn out of raw rock bed) we ended up at the crossroad settlement of Vieng Kham at 3pm, both with sunburnt feet and fed up with the wind.
That afternoon our goals were at odds, as were our moods. While Justin wanted to push through the dark to make it to the next big town (which he thought was between 20 and 30km away) I refused to agree to cycle in the dark, but also didn’t fancy sticking around in another dusty crossroads for the night. I refuelled with a bowl of noodles, bought a couple of handfuls of sticky rice and some flossed meat as emergency dinner supplies and agreed to cycle on. We left town with barely two hours of daylight remaining, but still carrying our tent we knew we would find somewhere to sleep.
As the light dropped, so did the wind, and in the early evening we were blessed with a cool stillness. We pedalled with greater urgency towards Nahin, hoping to come across a friendly temple complex or a welcoming village where we could find somewhere to pitch the tent. As dusk started to fall around us we were still winding up and down jungle-clad hills, lit magically by the evening sky. Night in Laos falls like the flick of a light switch. Just as it was getting properly dark, we found a track leading off the side of the road with a sandy area just big enough for our needs. With practiced familiarity we pitched our trusty tent as the already risen full moon shone down on us.
The Nahin tourism office was funded by the French as thanks for the locals who helped find some lost French citizens. I’d recommend a stop inside to anyone passing for the comedy value of your exchange with the young girl manning it. We were enticed in by a sign pointing to the front door of the simple building, claiming this was the way to the waterfall, but offering no obvious trails into the jungle beyond. Turns out the sign just points to the tourism office and the waterfall path is further down the road.
After being shown an A2 full colour picture of the waterfall and a map in Lao script which she told us didn’t have any relevance to the waterfall, we eventually paid a dubious national park fee, got vague directions, and headed off on our speculative adventure. This was despite warnings from the tourist office that a guide would be advisable and suspicions that this is where the French adventurers may have gotten lost. We found it an enchanting walk, with only us and a few hunters out on the trails, badly signed and maintained paths that do indeed peter out into nothing, and a final scramble up steep boulders for a view of the waterfall, spectacular at over 100m high, even in the dry season.
The next morning I found myself on the back of a motorcycle, having delegated learning to ride to Justin. Fifty pancake flat kilometres away, our destination was Kong Lor, a 7km long cave, which visitors can take a boat ride through. Its well worth visiting, but not one we fancied cycling 100km to see.
Justin was offered a crash course in motorcycle handling by the lady running our guesthouse. She was still in her pyjama’s and with feet clad only in socks as she jumped on the rental to show us how to ride with the confidence of someone who has been riding motorbikes since their pre-teens. Her instruction seemed to consist of continual stream of “1…. 2….. 3…. 4….” as she shifted through the gears, then she nervously handled over the controls and watched Justin take a test ride. She warned us to drive slowly through villages and ‘look, look’ so as not to hit chickens or children, then waved us off with a very worried sounding ‘good luck’.
We arrived at Kong Lor cave with hair swept back, ‘Born to be Wild’ still looping through our heads and jumped onto a boat manned by two young men, which would take us through the cave system. Our own headlights dimmed quickly, and we were glad that our guides were better prepared, as our boat weaved in and out of tunnels for a nearly hour long ride to an opening on the other side of the mountain.
Riding through the pitch black with occasional glimpses of boats headed in the other direction reminded me of the underworlds pictured in Lord of the Rings, with a little bit of the adrenalin of the Willy Wonka pitch black boat ride thrown in.
On the return journey, our guides seemed to race a little faster, and before we knew it we’d emerged back into bright sunshine. We spent an hour or so with our feet dangling in a clear natural lagoon near the entrance, marvelling at how many people are moved through the system, but how alone you feel in the middle of the cave complex.
Despite a fair number of tourists travelling on the same roads as us, some of the villages we passed through over the next few days seemed poorer than any we had seen so far in Lao. It took us most of a day to traverse a 70km stretch of dirt road, where we passed a dozen tourists on motorcycles all headed the opposite direction.
Many local people had been relocated from the Nam Theun 2 dam site which dominated stretches of the road with its vast expanses of waterlogged tree stumps. While still friendly as ever, their kids were a little less well dressed than those we’d seen further north and there was very little available in roadside stalls. We wondered how the dam had affected the wildlife, noting that even when cycling the jungle corridor between two national parks, we saw and heard very few birds, though Justin briefly saw a troupe of monkeys swinging away from roadside trees.
Subsisting mostly on rice, whether sticky with sausage meat, fried with egg and vegetables or in the form of noodles, we had what was possibly our worst few days of food in Laos. With mysterious meats and unidentified dumpling-type things making their way into my noodles in Lak Sao, I tried not to recall the stench of the dog trucks we’d seen passing us on their way to dinner tables and restaurants of Vietnam.
Something in our diet made us both feel pretty bad, and for the first time in our trip I longed for a kitchen where rice wouldn’t be the only thing on the menu. Forgoing more cave exploration we raced the last few kilometres to Thakhek where our decision to stay at Thakhek Travel Lodge was solely based on the extensive repertoire of the kitchen staff.
2 responses to “Adventures On ‘The Loop’”
related posts to “Adventures On ‘The Loop’”
Postcards From Luang Prabang
The pressure has been off since we reached the borders of South East Asia. As compensation against the last few months of racing against seasons and visas, we’re actively slowing down in line with the relaxed attitudes prevalent in Laos. The country’s second biggest city, which has a certain French colonial charm preserved in a central peninsula filled with guesthouses and cafes, Luang Prabang had just the right atmosphere for a week off and was a brilliant base for doing very little indeed. – Posted by Emma
Heightened Anticipation
Finding ourselves cycling across unexpected mountain passes in snow storms and heading into deserts without sufficient water are examples of how our lack of in-depth planning does not always work in our favour. Upon entering a new country our route planning is mostly a brief survey of a map based on the knowledge that we must head in a certain compass direction to cross the border to our next destination. – Posted by Justin
20,000 Kilometre Photo
The 20,000 kilometre photo was taken approximately 5km outside Luang Prabang, Laos on 15th November 2011. That day we had covered a fairly quick 110km alongside the Nam Ou river before it merged with the Mekong. In the evening when we were settled in our comfortable guest house we raised a few toasts to the distance cycled so far and promised ourselves celebratory cakes the next day. – Posted by Justin
Slow Motion Vientiane
We approach a set of traffic lights on our way to the COPE visitor centre in Vientiane and I can’t help but wonder where I last saw the familiar sequence of red, orange and green. Certainly the capital must be the only place in Laos with traffic lights. I wonder if this is a sign of modern times, but I quickly change my assessment as I pedal closer. As if the lights are an apparition, not one road user is paying them any mind. – Posted by Emma
Day Of Food – Laos
The food in Laos outside the more touristic towns consists of the staple noodles and rice prepared in a few different ways. In small villages the options are normally limited with us taking whatever is on offer supplemented with our own supply of biscuits and fresh fruit. The addition of sticky rice to the stir-fried and steamed variety has been great with us often carrying a plastic bag of this as snack food. – Posted by Justin
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route map for this post
The map below shows the waypoints for this blog post. To view the details of our trip to date take a look at our complete route map.
i read your story , it intersested
i meet you at pagadinn at coffee in loas.
i come from thailand.
Where are you.
i waiting you in chonburi.
my phone 081 9291843
Hi Dacha
Yes we remember meeting you and enjoying a wonderful iced coffee made by your wife!
We are still in Laos and in around 1 week will go to Cambodia then we think we will arrive in Thailand around 01 February.
If you are still in Thailand in February we may be cycling near your town and it would be great to meet you again.