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Other entries in Houei Sai

On the Other Side

Within less than 5 minutes the boat docked again and we were in Huay Xai, Laos.

Previously getting a visa in Laos had been something of a nightmare but, thanks to the recent enlightenment, on part of the Laos government, that there are tourist bucks to made, our experience couldn't have gone smoother.  We carried our luggage up the steep ramp to the Immigration Office where we were asked to fill in arrival cards, we supplied them with a passport photo each, which we had the good sense to get done in Chiang Rai a few days earlier, and with that our passport.  On filling in the visa application I was teased by the Laos Immigration Officer when I asked what date it was, 'It's the 13th today, tomorrow Valentines Day, how can you forget?' he asked.  'I'm a bad husband' I answered.  That seemed to please him, and several of his colleagues, no end, our visas were promptly rushed through and we weren't even charged the extra $2 for their working on a public holiday.  So our passports stamped with a fresh 15 day visa; we will be able to get visa extensions in the Laos capital, Vientiane, for as little as $2 a day, we climbed the rest of the steep incline in search of a guesthouse.

For the first time on our trip we were unable to book our guesthouse in advance, we had tried phoning but couldn't get through to anyone, so tentatively we walked the small main street of Huay Xai.  Our Lonely Planet had listed several and the one we aimed for, 'The Friendship' Guesthouse, was simple to find, just five minutes from our landing bay.  Plenty of rooms were available and paying in baht wasn't an issue, in fact our price was even quoted thus, however finding our room was.  We walked three flights of stairs to find room 31, as printed on our hotel room keyring, but to no avail, apparently the doors stopped at 25.  Lindsey walked back down the stairs to ask the receptionist, whilst I cared for the bags, and from three flights of stairs I heard, 'Oh so sorry!' and a scatter of feet, I could make out the receptionist bounding up the stairs and then stopping on the first floor.  Of course there's room 31, on the first floor, in between rooms 15 and 16, why didn't we think of that?

There are several border crossings in to Laos, from Thailand, and we could have chosen anyone of them, however from Huay Xai you can catch the 2 day slow boat trip down the Mekong river, the first night you stop off a Pak Beng, and the next day you end up in Luang Prabang; this had been something we wanted to do ever since hearing about it.  Our guesthouse had already quoted us 850baht each for the trip, and being the clued up travellers that we are, we knew that we could get it for at least 100baht cheaper in a guesthouse down the road from reading another traveller's blog some days back.  Once settled in our room we headed on down to the aforementioned guesthouse and decided that in order to secure the cheapest possible boat ticket we should play it cool.  So at the BAP Guesthouse we sat down with our menus, and tried, to order up some lunch; much to Lindsey's delight Laos is the land of the fresh baguette, thanks to French colonialism, and she ensued to order up the crunchiest and crispiest baguette that she could find.  The owner of the BAP Guesthouse was otherwise engaged with another bunch of farang backpackers, busily organising treks and tours, and didn't seem to realise that we were sitting there.  A good ten minutes past before the owner, a doughy old lady as grumpy as she was short, finally looked over at us with a look that said 'What the hell do you want?'  What she actually did say was, in short, sharp pidgin English was, 'You want food', thrusting a notepad and pen under our noses, 'You write down yourself.'

After devouring a couple of baguettes our 'playing it cool' strategy didn't seem to be working, we were actually hoping she would broach the subject which would give us the upper hand in negotiations, when suddenly, like a bolt out of the blue, she turned on us and said 'Where you go tomorrow?'  Taken totally by surprise by the abrupt, and almost violent, tone in her voice we both actually forgot why we were there in the first place.  No matter, she knew exactly why we were there, she took control of the whole proceedings, 'you go to Luang Prabang, you have ticket?'  'Well yes.....I mean no, I mean....' I stammered, so much for playing it cool, 'How much you pay?' she snapped. Lindsey answered 'Our guesthouse has offered us one for 850 baht and we....', 'I will do it cheaper!' she interrupted 'these places around here, all charge too much!  I save you money' she said jabbing her chubby little finger into her chest 'I save you 100baht!'  Although she was being sincere, and in the process saving us money, we were both, by now, totally frightened of her, the woman was far too earnest and self-righteous, and she practically forced us to buy the tickets, we hadn't even answered when she started demanding 1500baht.  I can't even remember giving her the money, as it happened all so fast, but I must have done as the next thing we knew she was telling us to come back with our passports that night.  Talk about the hard sell.  She was one tough little old lady.

We tried to fill in the rest of the day; we visited Wat Jom Khao Manilat, opposite the ferry crossing landing bay, a thriving temple, which you have to climb around 150 stairs to get to, that overlooks the town and the Mekong.  However other than that there isn't anything to do except eat, drink and sleep in Huay Xai, if Chiang Khong was a one horse town where the horse had bolted then Huay Xai had never got around to actually buying the horse.  Finding nothing to do, and realising that we were actually knackered, we returned to our guesthouse, Lindsey promptly fell asleep and I was about to follow suit when all of sudden I found 'High Noon' on TV.  It's very rare but in some places you do get a tv set, and thank god for it in Huay Xai, so there I was, on my first afternoon in a new country, watching a classic film with Lao subtitles.  It was great.  A couple of hours later we returned to BAP guesthouse with the passports, she just needed our passport number, and were 'ordered' to turn up the following morning at 8am so we could be taken to the boat. 

On walking around Huay Xai that night we came across a really bizarre sight, in one of the little houses along the main road we could see a couple of people kneeling and praying, to the back of the room we could make out flashing fairy lights.  In the centre of the fairy lights was the face of a little old lady, the juxtaposition of the lady and the lights with the surreal surroundings nearly forced us both to laugh out loud until we saw the flowers; it was a funeral.  We had seen something similar at Wat Jom Khao Manilat earlier in the day; inside the temple doors a huge face, maybe that of a Buddhist monk, was surrounded in the same kind of lights, flashing away, whilst people knelt and chanted.  As the evening went on, along the main road, chairs and tables were set up and filled with, what appeared to us, the entire population of Huay Xai, all of them chatting, eating, singing and joking, all celebrating this woman's life.  Not knowing where to put our face, and not wanting to stop and stare, we moved on in respect, we found ourselves down by the river in an ominous looking restaurant where we thought this would be a good time to test Laos cuisine.  Not a good idea.  Not that Laos cuisine is bad, although it's nothing compared to the Thai food, it was just that this place was a tourist trap and the food was lousy.  For the first time we had found ourselves eating two bad evening meals in a row, unheard of, but at least we would be leaving this place in the morning. 

Retiring early, (what other choice did we have?)  we got a good nights sleep and woke refreshed for our trip down the Mekong.  We arrived at BAP Guesthouse at 8am sharp and ordered our breakfast, someone from the guesthouse asked for our passports, again, and we obliged, they were returned shortly after and then we waited.  And we waited.  There were other people waiting as well for this vehicle; tuk-tuk, jumbo, whatever it may be, to take us to our boat.  We filled in the time by reading up about Pak Beng, our first stop on the river, and ordered up a packed lunch that was prepared by a, now, less than grumpy old woman.  One of our fellow travellers couldn't bear the not knowing any longer and asked what time the boat would be leaving, 'boat leave at 11am' said one of the staff.  '11am!' shouted the traveller, 'why on earth are we here at this time?' The staff member didn't seem to have an answer for this, maybe simply because they didn't understand, and smiling at the traveller, simply walked away.  It was quite apparent that the old woman had something of a monopoly here, she charged less for the tickets because she could ensure that everyone would have breakfast at her establishment, as well as order up a hearty packed lunch, such fine business sense seemed deservedly rewarded.

After a hour and half the transportation finally arrived and, once loaded with our luggage, drove to the slow boat port.  Following the drivers instructions on arrival, we tottered with our bags, secured to our backs, down to the river bank, where we were confronted with a row of little wooden boats, one of which would be our, sort of, home for the next two days.  Boarding, via a very springy and narrow gangplank, which I thought we at least take one victim, we put our bags to the back of the boat and found a bench with the most legroom.  It didn't matter where you sat as all the chairs were made of the most uncomfortable hard wood imaginable, they were literally planks nailed together, and would be source of many bum aches for the next two days.

What does all this compare to two days on the Mekong?  What does this all compare to two days floating through the heartland and outback of Laos?       

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