I've only been in Laos
for a few minutes but I'm already loving it. Thoughts of our arduous
journeys over the last couple of days in Cambodia are fading away as
our minibus takes as towards Don Det, one of the popular islands that
make up Laos' Four Thousand islands that sit in the middle of the
Mekong river as it widens in the south of the country.
It's now early
afternoon and the sun is high in the sky. I rest my head back on the
chair and close my eyes as the breeze through the windows cools my
mind. The roads are deathly quiet and no one was working in the
fields as we passed by. The minibus slowed and bumped along the pot
holes that scattered the poorly repaired roads until we reached a
small town that consisted of a row of businesses whether they were
restaurants or workman providing services of all kinds. The driver
manoeuvred the minibus into a tiny driveway between two vertical
columns holding the roof up and a wall, there was no more that four
inches leeway on each side.
Having stopped, the
cooling breeze that I had become accustomed to had also ceased and
the afternoon heat swallowed us and demanded perspiration. There's
no time to worry about that here, you have to accept it and get
moving. The driver opened the tailgate and began removing the bags
with determined speed. As always, the passengers become his
assistants and help him to retrieve the bags. With our bags strapped
to our backs we begin to follow the driver down the road, past the
tradespeople, to the quay where dozens of long, thin wooden boats
wait to take people to any one of the thousands of islands that
litter this area of the Mekong.
After climbing over
concrete pipes, rubbish and negotiating sandy traps across the beach,
we climbed aboard our boat which was waiting to take us to the
magical island of Don Det. The boat skimmed across the water and
made its way through the maze of islands of differing sizes.
Fishermen clinging onto their fishing rods in an attempt to catch
those unlucky fish that swim too close to their bait. Although the
engine made a terrific noise, it was a very peaceful and calming ten
minute trip to the island. We were warned before going onto the
island that we should take enough cash with us for our stay as there
aren't any cash machines, they have only just got electricity in
recent years. The skipper launched the boat hard into the sand bank
which led up towards a small beach where a handful of people were
lazing around catching some rays. I jumped off the boat a little
prematurely and ended up knee deep in cool Mekong river water.
We arrived on the
island with no idea where we were going to be staying. This has
become second nature to me and is part of fun of travelling. We had
no idea as to what we would find as we hadn't been able to access the
internet in Banlung, nor did we have a guidebook. Most of the island
is littered with bamboo shacks and very very small amount of brick
buildings. As we made our way up the beach and onto the main strip
of restaurants and shops, we took a right as we saw a sign to some
accommodation and at the end of a narrow pathway stood eight bamboo
shacks circling a piece of grass. There seemed to be no signs of
life.
"Hello?!" We
called out in a louder than usual voice, but not shouting.
"Hello?" A
small petite Lao lady picked her head up from the hammock that she'd
been sleeping on in the middle of the grassy area. Her eyes looked
dazed and her posture lethargic.
"Have you got any
rooms free?" We enquired.
"7, 8, 9" She
threw her arms out in the general direction with great effort as she
battled against falling asleep.
"Excellent! How
much?" We asked.
Dusty path around Don Det |
Nothing. She gave up.
Her battle against tiredness overthrew her as she sighed and
collapsed back into her hammock and slept. Nicky, Tom and I stared
at each other not believing what we had just witnessed. It's a
complete reversal to how the Cambodians and Vietnamese act. We were
used to being hounded the moment we stepped off a bus or train and
not left alone until we handed over cash. Here, the lady couldn't
even be bothered to speak to us. This is heaven although we didn't
end up staying there as she went to sleep and didn't wake up again.
It didn't matter too
much as there were plenty of places to sleep, mainly bamboo shacks
that we could choose from. After walking a couple of hundred metres
down the dirt track that led through the main settlement of
restaurants, bars and shops, we came walked passed a lady who asked
whether we needed a place to sleep. Of course we did, so she showed
us to her bamboo huts that overhung the river. We took a hut each.
The basic huts, had a double bed, mosquito net and a fan. The
bathroom was a small concrete hut with a hose pipe and a traditional
squat toilet. Thankfully these were in separate sections so you
didn't trip whilst taking a shower and ending up with you foot in the
bog.
A few hours later we
had forgotten about the morning's journey from Banlung and were
submerged in the life of Don Det and that is complete relaxation.
Tom, Nicky and I were cooling off in the river whilst tiny fish
nibbled on your feet, throwing Tom's ball around like children. That
evening we went out and found a restaurant and bought a burger and a
few drinks whilst playing pool. When all of the bars shut up at
eleven, everybody heads to the beach where to sit round a bonfire and
continue drinking and laughing. Walking home from the beach is
certainly an experience, especially when you've had a few drinks and
not quite sure where you actually stay because as soon as you leave
the main strip, the lights cut out and you cannot see much. I was
walking alone as Tom and Nicky had already gone back to bed, however,
I felt that someone was with me. I looked round but couldn't see
anyone. I shook off the feeling as paranoia and continued cautiously
along the path back to my hut. Suddenly I jumped and quickly turned
as something brushed against my leg. It was a dog, now in front of
me but had slowed to join me for my walk home. My next issue was,
which hut is mine? They all looked the same to me. I went up one
set of steps and discovered someone else's clothes hanging over the
banister which confirmed that this was not mine, so the dog and I
turned and continued up the path eventually finding the my hut.
View from my riverside hut |
FLASH....BANG... Eyes
sprung open. What the hell is that? Rain began pounding hard on the
roof of my hut as the heavens fell in huge buckets. I fought with
the mosquito net as I jumped out of bed and headed outside to see
nature's light and sound show. The whole sky was lit up every few
moments shortly followed by excruciating cracks of thunder. Staying
in a hut made from bamboo with a corrugated metallic roof during an
electrical storm is certainly an experience. The deafening sound of
the rain hitting the roof was immense.
We stayed on the island
for three days, however, our plans to walk and cycle round the island
or kayak down the river were not fulfilled as Laos' heat and humidity
had overwhelmed us into a lazy Laos stupor. Having spent three days
lazing around watching films in the bar, playing pool, eating food
and having the odd beverage it was time to push on further into Laos.
Next stop Pakse.
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