Laos made me feel like a millionaire: A very short millionaire

November 23, 2014

We set off early the next morning, undeterred by a thick fog that was doing its best to disturb our blissful new existence. Yet despite its best efforts, this thick fog was soon set in its place by my optimistic companion. "Doesn't it make everything look mysterious?" Dea exalted, "I love this!" And before very long at all the thick fog gave up and floated away, and left us to our sunny happiness.

Another thing that might have set us back was a long and steep climb that I should have thought would have been a considerably stern test for anyone that had never done a bicycle tour before. As it turned out, however, the long and steep climb proved to be a considerably stern test for no one but myself. Dea sailed up with a big smile on her face as if she didn't even know that we were going uphill, while I trailed along behind, as per usual, coughing and spluttering my way to the top.

'Never done a bicycle tour before' my foot

See you later, thick fog! Go over there and think about what you've done!

The descent on the other side was a spectacular ride; a winding road where lush green vegetation, a brilliant blue sky, and the smiling faces and cheerful cries merged into one magical experience. Then suddenly it was interrupted by another white face, another loaded touring bicycle, zipping around a corner the other way. Who was this intruder to our tropical paradise? We stopped to say hello. The man introduced himself with great enthusiasm as Bryon, a 48-year-old Canadian on a three month career break. As we chatted further I started to like this guy more and more, perhaps because he seemed to be just a little bit insane, but more so because he was channeling that insanity into a great and forceful positive energy. I knew he was insane for the same reason I knew his age. He told us that the day before he had cycled 200 kilometres because, and I stress the word because, because it was his birthday. That, so he said, was his present to himself. "I was just coming around these roads and thinking the only thing that could make this better would be a peloton" he went on to add.

Dea was so impressed by Bryon's 200 kilometre ride that her face went weird

We talked for quite a while with Bryon and I was keen to find out more about what made this guy tick, so I was pleased when he gave me his blog address so that I could see how he was getting on. He told me that he didn't want too many people to read his blog, but when I asked if I could put a link to it on here he said "yeah, sure you can!" So here is the link, but please don't visit it. If you do you might find out that my name is really Eric. But I was quite pleased when I looked at it myself a few days later and saw that Bryon had met Alex later in the day, meaning that he was still going and was behind us. Interestingly and bizarrely enough Alex had also now changed his name to Eric.

A picture of us that Bryon took for his blog in which I appear to have shrunk

Just before reaching our goal for the day at the town of Oudamxay we noticed a sign at the side of the road indicating that there were some hot springs one kilometre away. Intrigued by this we turned off in the direction that the sign suggested, looking forward to a soothing dip in a warm natural bath. We didn't get far though, because there was no clear road in that direction, just some dirt paths that took us into a small village of bamboo huts. Unsure of where to go but keen for an adventure we went over to some local men and women in the hope that they might offer us some direction. What I was very much hoping that they woudn't offer us was lunch, because they were kneeling on the ground and in the midst of squeezing out the intestines of an animal that, judging by the deacapitated dog's head next to them, was until very recently the family pet. Doing our best to ignore their interesting culinary undertakings, we asked for the way to the hot springs. Unfortunately neither Dea nor I had yet grasped the Lao language sufficiently well to understand what they were trying to tell us, and so two young girls of seven or eight, themselves quite unaffected by the sight of Lassie's mutilation, were assigned to us as our personal escorts.

The two girls danced and skipped ahead of us across a field, looking back occasionally to make sure that we were following. Although whatever crop that had been grown there had been harvested it was still bumpy going and it wasn't easy to push the bikes through that field. On the other side was a house with a few people loitering idly outside, and here we were encouraged to leave our bikes. Sensing that our journey was likely to get even more 'off the beaten track' before we reached any hot springs we did just this.

Our assumption proved correct, the next obstacle being a steep slide down a muddy embankment. Once this had been cleared we navigated our way around a mean-looking buffalo and then came to our next challenge. A fast-flowing and very wide river lay before us, at the sight of which I rather naively and foolishly asked if this was the hot springs. The response of the young girls was to giggle and shake their heads and run off into the river. Dea and I shrugged, took off our shoes, and waded in after them.

The stones on the riverbed were not easy to walk on and the water was cold, but it was not more than a foot deep. The energy of our two little helpers meant that they were soon most of the way across the river before they looked back and saw us struggling across the hard stones. Back they came, splashing water as they merrily danced their way towards us. Each one then offered to carry our shoes for us, my big old trainers being almost the same size as the girl who took them from me.

After the long river crossing we found ourselves in a clearing of green grass and followed the girls across this until we finally arrived at our intended destination. Dea and I broke into rueful smiles. After the long and arduous expedition to get here it was all we could do to laugh at the sight that now lay before us. Our hot springs were little more than a tepid muddy puddle at the back of a field. "They made a sign for this?!" Dea laughed.

The girls running back to grab our shoes

Swimming was impossible but I made the best of it and washed my hands in the muddy water and said it was very good for my skin and was happy. Quite aside from that we both had to admit that the journey was more important than the destination and what was more we both agreed that getting away from the road and into what was an extraordinarily beautiful location had been well worth our efforts. I had grabbed a couple of bananas from my bike when we'd left it at the house and I gave these to the two young girls now to say thank you. Then I wanted to take a photo of their bright and cheerful faces, but as soon as I got out the camera they ran away, back across the river and far away. "Oh dear," I said, "do you remember the way back Dea? Right at the buffalo wasn't it?"

We made it as far as the river by ourselves, and decided that we'd done quite well, and deserved a swim. So we found a spot where the water was a little deeper and had a quick bathe in the cold water. It was probably a much more enjoyable and refreshing option than hot springs anyway. As we were drying off the two sweet girls came back and handed Dea a big bag of some edible leaves that they had just gone and picked especially for us as a gift. Then they helped us back across the river, back to our bikes and finally home to their village, where we did our best to avoid making eye contact with any of the adults that were now busy cooking up some sausages that neither of us had any great desire to try. These guys were certainly giving a whole new, and much more literal, meaning to the idea of eating a hot dog.

Instead we stopped to eat lunch at a restaurant just on the outskirts of Oudamxay where we both ordered vegetarian meals, Dea having recently come to the decision that it might be best not to eat too much meat of unknown origin. Incidentally we had a very nice talk in that restaurant with a 13 year-old girl named Jindi, who spoke much better English than either of us. The warmth and friendliness of the Laos people continued to impress.

In the large crossroads town of Oudamxay we treated ourselves to two nights in a very large and fancy hotel. The lobby was so spacious that it took a thirty foot broom to clean the ceiling, and the walk to our room along the lengthy corridors took a good forty-five minutes. When we arrived we had so much space in what was essentially a suite that I actually lost Dea a few times in it and we had to call out to each other and listen for the sound of the others voice until eventually we were able to locate one another. And the price for this extravagance, this abundance of space in this huge fancy hotel, was five pounds a night each. Laos made me feel a bit like a millionaire.

We had been advised that it was a good idea to go to a Buddhist temple to watch the sunset, and this we did, taking great pride in our successful ability to locate the temple by ourselves. It was on a hill that overlooked the town and was indeed a very nice place. Not long after taking a photo of Dea being silly I was approached by a young local man with a textbook who told me that he was a student named Seepong and he would like it if he could talk with us for a while in order to practice his English. I thought that was a great idea, not least because Seepong was very short and when I stood next to him I was able to get over my own height complex, recently acquired thanks to the (optically illusionary) photography skills of Bryon.

Dea being silly. She's also taller than Buddha, don't you know?

Monks banging a drum at the temple. Seepong told us they only did this twice a month and so we were lucky to see it. I asked Seepong why they beat this big drum and he told me "I don't know, I'm not a Buddhist"

Dea giving Seepong a complex about his height

We talked for a while with Seepong and it was an absolute delight to do so, him being not only short but also an incredibly nice and thoughtful young chap, and we learned a lot from him about Laos, the people and the culture. He took us to see another temple and, because we enjoyed his company so much, we then invited him to dinner. He took us to a restaurant that had an English menu and a few western dishes and we got so excited by it all that we ordered more food than three people could possibly consume. I mean, there were french fries, made with proper potatoes! Do you have any idea of how long it had been since I'd eaten potatoes?! That alone would have made my evening, but the company of these two wonderful human beings as well as a healthy dose of BeerLao made everything seem just perfect. As for Seepong, he was absolutely the sweetest person on the whole planet. He was very grateful to us for having taken him out and for having spoken English with him all night, and he returned the favour by teaching us more Laos and by helping Dea to register her phone's sim card. She had been having problems doing so, and asked if Seepong could help by speaking to the company on the phone for her. "Yes I can," he said, "but I will need to lie and tell them that it is my phone." He took the phone and, slightly drunk and very happy looked at Dea through eyes of complete innocence and, somewhat excitedly and with 100% sincerity, he said "I've never lied before!"

The end of another adventurous day in paradise... with potatoes!

Today's ride: 50 km (31 miles)
Total: 34,191 km (21,233 miles)

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