After spending a few days in Luang Prabang, we finally made the tough decision to skip out on southern Laos. As much as we wanted to explore the beautiful 4,000 islands and motorbike around the Tha Khaek Loop for three nights, we realized something that until this point, had been extremely difficult for me to grasp: we can’t do everything. Somehow the three years it took to save, plan, and dream up this trip was quickly dwindling away and we are down to three months before (hopefully) settling down in France. HOW?! How can something feel like it it happened a lifetime ago but also like it was just yesterday.

So we decided rather than continuing south in Laos before crossing over into Cambodia, we would jump over and explore Vietnam first. We gave ourselves another week in Laos and decided to check out Vang Vieng, despite it's reputation for being a party town.

Since we hadn't yet filled our quota of buses and minivans in this beautiful country, we decided to take a six hour minivan from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng. I should add that two of those six hours were spent sitting in the van, on the side of the road, while the car was running, alone. (side note: Brian and I were separated from the bigger group while waiting and were asked to sit in a different van that was completely empty, meaning we would have to wait to fill up the car. Never let that happen!) 

We would have asked the driver what was going on, except that he left us in the van alone and was nowhere to be found. WTF? Finally, about an hour and a half in, Brian couldn’t handle all my questions, which he was conveniently choosing to consider rhetorical, (they were not), and decided to leave me in search of our driver. Now abandoned twice over, I spent the next twenty minutes trying to talk myself out of the obvious: Brian finally had enough and has left me. But he eventually returned, sans driver.

TWO HOURS LATER, our driver appeared with a mechanic (we think?), apologizing saying his friend’s car broke down and we needed to go help him. I'm all for being a good samaritan, but C'MON GUYS. At least TRY to communicate. No more than thirty minutes later, we stop again. This time in an even darker alley with once again, no explanation. Finally we saw a tuk-tuk approaching with three touristy looking girls and luggage in tow. We prayed they were going to Vang Vieng. Otherwise, there was no way this guy was making the journey with just us. Thankfully, they were. We jumped out of the doomed minivan and we were finally on the road. Four hours later.

When we arrived, I noticed this reportedly not so sleepy mountain town was pitch black. And all the restaurants were glowing by candlelight. How romantic, I thought. Until I realized the more likely explanation. There was no power. Vang Vieng lived up to its name within minutes of arriving. I’m not sure if it was the power loss or just something in the air but everyone was rowdy and partying in the streets. Which meant only one thing of course: Brian and I desperately needed to find our guesthouse to hide from the party crowd.

We crossed what I can only describe as a collection of wooden planks haphazardly fastened together, desperately attempting to pass for a bridge. A quite humorous and quite frankly, pathetic attempt I might add. Once safely on the other side, we found The Backpackers Riverside Lodge. Tired, hungry, and ready for a shower, we were greeted with a guy crossing his arms and shaking his head repeating, “no rooms” over and over again and pointed us back across the bridge. “But we have a booking!!” I kept telling him while waving my phone in his face. As it happened, I was wasting my breathe. Apparently having a reservation in advance doesn’t make a difference. He took us to another hotel and asked us to return in the morning. We were so tired, we didn't even put up a fight.

If you aren't familiar with Vang Vieng, all you really need to know other than it's a party girl reputation, is what it's famous for: tubing down the Nam Song river. Years ago, the river was flooded with backpackers on tubes and countless “illegal” bars roping you in (literally they throw a rope out to you), offering everything from Beerlaos to all sorts of illegal drugs. Nowadays, it's much more low-key, with only a couple bars scattered down the river. And the most suspicious items on the menu are harmless (I think) balloons of nitrus oxide.

Tubing turned out to be one of the highlights of Vang Vieng. Even when we realized we weren’t going to make it back in time to the rental shop. I’ve never paddled so hard in my life - we must have looked like maniacs. And trust me, you would too! The fee for missing the return window was astronomical.

Our out of shape arms and shoulders were in severe pain the following morning and the throbbing continued over the next few days. The river is surrounded by magnificent giant limestone rocks, and if you can get past all the Chinese tourists dressed in orange life vests kayaking down in groups, it can even be peaceful. We caught a line (literally) into one of the bars, enjoyed one too many Beerlaos, may or may not have considered a balloon, and jumped back in our tubes in the least graceful way possible. We continued down the river, huffing and puffing until we eventually dragged ourselves out of the water, resembling what I’m sure looked like newborn baby giraffes attempting to walk for the first time. But really, we had a blast!

The next day we rented bikes and rode down to the Blue Lagoon, again surrounded by groups of Chinese tourists in bright orange life vests. Only this time, they were jumping (more like face planting) into the very underwhelming lagoon. Thankfully, there was another excursion in the area, the Tham Phu Khan Cave. After visiting several not so exciting caves in northern Laos, Brian and I both had our hesitations, but we figured we could use the exercise. Now I'm no cave connoisseur but this cave was definitely one of the coolest caves I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to venture too far because Cautious Brian felt I wasn’t stable enough after I meandered off on my own for a bit and took a little spill. I guess hearing your wife scream in a cave as you hear the echos of her falling towards deathly rocks could be a little scary. Despite the fall, it was still worth the visit (and I was fine! Not even a scratch! That came later, when I fell in the shower and busted my elbow open in the safety of our very own room).

On our ride home, we saw a sign for fresh fruit, cold beers, and bats. Always a winning trio. We popped in for a more descriptive explanation and found out that a couple hundred meters away, behind Nouth’s (the owner's) garden, there was a perfect spot to view the thousands of bats that flew out of one of the caves every evening. We met a couple from Canada (man, we are hitting the jackpot with the Canadian friends) and convinced them to stay for the bat show as well. Around 5:45 pm, we walked to the back of Nouth’s garden and waited for the show. Right on cue, we looked up in the sky and witnessed a sea of bats swimming through the evening sky. It was never-ending! And thankfully, they didn’t fly anywhere near us or I would have been going bat sh*t crazy. Pun definitely intended. It was the perfect last night in Vang Vieng and well worth the stopover. (PS. Lao Valhalla Bungalaos is Nouth’s beautiful B&B and while we didn’t stay, the setting was gorgeous and right outside the chaos of the city center).

We ended our last night at a restaurant that played Friends 24/7. We enjoyed a hot bowl of noodle soup, grateful for a little taste of home, in a far away land. Vang Vieng was definitely worth a visit, whether or not you consider yourself a party animal. 

We took a normal four hour minivan back to Luang Prabang, picked up our Vietnam visas, and awaited our least anticipated travel day yet, our 24 hour bus to Hanoi. Don't be surprised if you never hear from us again. It was fun while it lasted, friends!

S+B