When I traveled to Asia three years ago I never quite made it here, so was determined to include it in my itinerary this time. Having a great interest in recent political and world history only fuelled my desire. When Laos was secretly having the hell bombed out of it between 1967 and 1973 in Nixon and Kissingers so called 'secret war', I was still in short trousers, enduring my mothers DIY haircuts, being forced to wear really bad taste clothes purchased by my father and hiding behind the sofa at scary episodes of Dr. Who on BBC1.

 

Laos is officially one of the poorest ten nations on earth and the most heavily bombed. Tons of unexploded devices remain and estimates suggest that to clear this country of what is commonly called UXO will take another century. It does focus the mind a little when you've been here to question what on earth these people had done to deserve that. That debate will continue and will certainly not be forgotten here, but for now, I will focus on my trip and experiences.

 

Getting around Laos can be a time consuming process as I discovered. Traveling in a cramped bus from Chiang Mai, Thailand - I stayed overnight on the Thai side of the border before taking a two day trip on the 'slow boat' to Luang Prabang.

I was brimming with excitement the night before as I looked across the Mekong River at my first sight of Lao Peoples Democratic Republic. Swathed in low lying cloud and mist, I was reminded of my boyhood fascination with all things Communist, Cold War and flickering memories of films like Dr. Strangelove.

 

In many respects, crossing the river to Laos on that first morning, it was hard to tell the difference between it and Thailand until you changed currency. A modest $100 will buy you a huge pile of over 1,000,000 Kip. Your wallet really does need to expand in this part of the world to ridiculous proportions.

 

I made my way to the 'slow boat' - fairly narrow, with the (by now) obligitory low ceiling for me to hit my head on, it was fairly packed with fellow western travelers. I made my way to the rear so I could at least try and lay down to ease an increasingly troublesome back. The back of the boat is where my luck changed, for seated nearby was a Dutch Doctor, (Edde) and his Irish partner Damien (aka 'Princess'), who happened to be a Pharmacist.(They also turned out to be west Ham fans - even better!) They appeared to have brought samples of every prescription drug known to humankind on their trip, so one painkiller later I slept like a baby for some considerable time.

 

There followed two long days chugging down the mighty Mekong, swollen by the rainy season, in the company of a wide range of Europeans and the odd Canadian or American. We stopped for an evening in Pak Beng, a small village clinging to the hillside with a smattering of cheap guesthouses and restaurants and resumed our trip the following morning. Some of the scenery along the route is stunning and dramatic - high, tree covered hills, stark cliffs with occasional settlements, often featuring waving children and their bewildered parents.

 

I hooked up with the aformentioned doctor, Princess Damien and a Dutch woman called Emiek from the boat, and listened intently as they talked of planning a trek into the hills. In spite of my bad back, surely a little exercise couldn't do any harm? I left the arrangements to them but didn't say too much when it was clear that these people were eiher all younger than me, and/or significantly fitter than me. When it emerged that a four day trek (yes, that's four days) had been planned, I said little but in true British style kept a stiff upper lip, whilst inside the alarm bells were beginning to ring.

 

Four days! The nearest I have been to anything even remotely resembling exercise for at least a couple of years is watching The Premiership on a Saturday night! At school I specialised in Long Jump only because it meant that I didn't have to run too far (whilst tecnically still being able to call myself an athlete). In my twenties I played football to keep fit rather than the other way round. I was beginning to feel a little anxious but said nothing...

 

What had been arranged was a trip to places so remote that no white person had ever been there before, three days trekking and a day

kayaking back down towards our departure point.

Would I make it? Would the others be able to put up with what I expected to be a very moderate pace as I attempted to shift my 17 Stone carcass around the hills and valleys of wild, wondrous Laos?

 

We soon embarked upon what was the most physically testing four days of my life. Initially we had to wade through a fast flowing river up to our waists and then navigate a stream for a few hours. Great scenery and all very exciting but the worst was yet to come! I have no problems walking along the flat - but hills, especially those where you have to be really careful where you step, particularly in the pouring rain were my downfall. Trekking is tough at the best of times but in temperatures approaching 38C I was soon beginning to think I'd made a mistake! Luckily my cheerful colleagues kept me going, as I was assured that we would soon reach our first village for an overnight stay.

 

What an amazing place it turned out to be, perched on the edge of a hillside - our arrival caused quite a flurry of excitement and perhaps anxiety as we were the first foreign people to ever visit. Both adults and children clamoured to get a view as Juu met with the head of the village to arrange our accommodation. The village was so remote, it neither had running water or electricity and we had to clamber down the tricky and muddy hillside to bathe in the local river. Accompanied by dozens of locals, no doubt curious to watch our every move.

 

Having got almost as muddy returning to our accommodation as before my bath, we exhaustedly ate sticky rice and buffalo meat before retiring. I couldn't sleep the first night, a little uncomfortable but also as we got up to see the local holy man performing an ancient ritual to banish the ghost of the forest, as his wife was sick. We witnessed an amazing ceremony perhaps dating back over a thousand years, involving this man bouncing on a plank of wood some 12 inches from the floor, chanting, wailing, shrieking, shaking cymbal type instruments whilst Juu, our guide, banged a small gong in a rhythm familair to the Hmong people. Unbelieveable and jaw dropping stuff - and we were there to see it! (I shall publish pictures of this ceremony at a later date).

 

The following day, it took us quite a long time to get away. Apart from being followed everywhere again by the local children, after breakfast we were invited into a wedding party for more food and Hmong whisky (very good) before returning to the house of the head of the village. He had arranged a breakfast party in our honour, as we were the first foreigners to visit. This involved yet more food, the local elders attending and the aforementioned holy man performing a ceremony for us which involved tying white strings around our wrists whilst chanting. This ceremony called 'sukhwan' ensures that the 32 spirits of the body (khwan) are bound to the guests of honour by the strings, ensuring us health and luck on the continuation of our journey. It was a very moving experience which admittedly brought tears to my eyes. Its amazing and true to say that wherever I have been in the world, it is often those with so little that offer so much of what they have and themselves. As we left we took some photographs of some of the local children, who were becoming a little more confident in our presence and bade them a fond farewell. None of us will ever forget that experience for the rest of our lives.

 

Day four and the easy part - or so I thought. Kayaking...nothing could be simpler than drifting downriver on a beautiful sunny day eh? Think again...substitute 'kayaking' for 'capsizing' and you'll be half right. It seemed that any slight ripple in the water and low grade rapids resulted in the kayak going topside to howls of hysterical laughter.

Truth be known, it did get a little hairy at times as the current swept all and sundry downstream at a fair pace. Eventually Juu realised that it would be foolish to travel any further downstream and we called it a day. Our transport picked us up and after a lunch featuring yet more sticky rice we returned to Luang Prabang.

A relatively 'luxury' room in a huge old French guesthouse and a meal in a divine restaurant, accompanied by fine wine later - and we were virtually good as new.

Well, that's not entirely true. It has probably taken me about a week to recover from my ordeal. I'm not certain that I would do it again but I certainly wouldn't have missed it for the world and will never forget it for the rest of my life.

 

The next few days were spent relaxing before moving on to a beautiful place several hours to the south called Vang Vieng and eventually to the capital city, Vientiene. With a population of just 30,000 or so its more like a small market town. Plenty to see and do, including the War and History Museums which are fascinating, quaint and outrageously anti-American. But after the history of this nation, who seem to have been kicked from pillar to post for centuries, had land stolen by the Thais, colonised by the French and bullied by the West, I guess its no surprise?

 

When I have more time I will update this site with more photographs of the trek, Luang Prabang and some of its seriously beautiful French architecture, visions of Vang Vieng and sights of Vientiene. For anyone considering a trip to Laos, all I could do is reccommend it, there is something for everyone here, the people are gentle, warm and reassuring and it is a fascinating place to spend time. I shall certainly be back and am making enquiries about work here.

 

Tommorrow, Thursday August 5th, I am flying to Phnom Penh, Cambodia, where I plan to travel for at least four weeks before returning to Thailand. I for one can't wait - I fell in love with the centre of the ancient Khmer Kingdom when I visited three years ago & it will be a joy to return. However, as I board my plane I will no doubt take a last look over my shoulder at Laos, knowing that one day I will return.