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Laos

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Mysteries of the mighty Mekong

Magazine August 2010

The beauty and steamy splendour of Laos enthralls Penny Smith – and she even goes panning for gold and samples the local whisky.

Laos - A land of temples, Buddha statues abroad Laos - March of the Monks with gifts of sticky rice Laos - The mighty Mekong River

1 A land of temples, Buddha statues abroad 2 March of the Monks with gifts of sticky rice 3 The mighty Mekong River

LAOS IS DEFINITELY the far east, because it takes a day to get there. The capital, as you all know, is Vientiane. We flew in via Bangkok to the old royal capital Luang Prabang, a name that rolls off the tongue beautifully.

Luang Prabang lies on the banks of the mighty Mekong river, which starts in Tibet, zips through China and then forms the Lao border with Burma and Thailand.

The town nestles among tall palm trees between hills that seem to be almost permanently shrouded in mist. At dawn or dusk the view nearly goes two-dimensional with veils of cloud in the valleys. It is a town of temples.

Some of them have survived sackings and revolutions intact and contain thousands of Buddha statues. Laos has nine million Buddhas.

Some are jewel-encrusted (and moved to safer places) and some recline in their golden beauty. There are wooden statues and stone.

Their poses hold a variety of meanings, generally a variation on the theme of peace. One evening as we enjoyed a sundowner on the balcony of the stunning La Residence Phou Vao hotel, we looked across to The Phousi Temple (lit up courtesy of our hotel) where a seated Buddha seemed to be floating. All the moisture means it’s a great place for growing rice and making silk.

A boat journey is a must

Our guide, Sompasong, drove us a short way out of town to where swathes of material are produced the old-fashioned way with wooden looms.

I could have bought all of the scarves, but confined myself to a brightly coloured brace of what I now call my silkworm tributes.

There is one temple with a name the entire width of a Scrabble board. Another, which has a large Stupa in the grounds (a mound that contains relics) affectionately known as the Watermelon Stupa. There’s the Bamboo Forest Temple, the temple with designs from the epic Sanskrit text the Ramayana on the front veranda, and the one with massive serpents carved above its steps.


‘Fab, innit?’ says Sompasong, who was taught English by a Londoner. You don’t get all that greenery without a lot of humidity. You can cool off in the scrumptious Kuang Si Falls, half an hour away.

Milky turquoise water tumbles from one rock pool to another, and the bigger ones can be jumped into for a refreshing swim. And, of course, there is the mighty Mekong.

A boat journey is a must. We chugged upstream to Kamu Lodge – an eco lodge with 20 safari tents and the chance to try rice planting, gold-panning, fishing and archery. It is particularly pleasant squishing one’s toes in the paddy field, dropping small rice plants into the water behind a water buffalo! The next day we hike through the hills. Kam Lao is our guide and he shows us medicinal and edible plants.

Generally appreciate a little more modesty

Lemon grass is something else when it’s eaten straight from the ground. And then he gives me a piece of thorny plant which he says tastes delicious. Despite my reservations, I try it – and it’s yummy, like spicy coriander.

There are butterflies and dragonflies everywhere as we return to the lodge for a reviving green tea. After dinner, the ever-helpful staff decide to nip over to the village for a bottle of Lao Lao rice whisky. It has a big label on it saying: ‘Lao Lao: 10. Brain cells: 0.’

It tastes how I imagine a good slurp on a petrol pump would. At one stage, someone throws the dregs on the fire and the camp almost goes up in flames. It’s great and guarantees a good night’s sleep through the noise of the frogs and cicadas.

The journey back on the river boat is much faster. As we speed along, we watch fishermen cast their nets from the rocks and women with conical hats panning for gold from the banks. Sompasong picks me up early in the morning to go and give alms to the hundreds of monks who pass through the town soon after dawn.

‘Call me Song. It’s easier, innit,’ he states as he goes off to get me a pot full of sticky rice. ‘Give a little bit to everyone.


Because there are lots of monks,’ he advises. They slide the lids off their shiny bowls slung on a strap from one shoulder as they come towards us – the ‘us’ being Westerners and locals, kneeling on mats with our offerings ready. I lob in a bit of sticky rice, but it’s so hot it makes my fingers sore.

The orange-clad monks begin to keep their lids on as they go past me, my eyes cast down in the requisite manner. ‘Is my rice off?’ I ask Song worriedly. ‘No. You’re too slow,’ he admonishes.

Song and I later head down to the riverside for a cup of thick black chewy coffee and a green-tea chaser at one of the market stalls. As the day heats up, British gap year students meander past, wearing skimpy tops or vests and short skirts. Sompasong looks at them disappprovingly. ‘It’s not appropriate,’ he says. ‘It’s wrong, innit?’

I promise him I will mention it in the article. The Lao people would generally appreciate a little more modesty.

One night, we are taken through the market for a Baci ceremony. These affairs predate the arrival of Buddhism in Laos and are considered the most respectful form of welcome.

Laos, such a beautiful country

We go up the steps into the large wooden building, where men and women in traditional dress play, dance and sing for us. In the middle of the room stands a turret of orange flowers, green leaves and sticky rice items.

Unfortunately, we didn’t know food was going to be on offer and have eaten at a nearby restaurant. I appliqué a portion of sticky rice to the roof of my mouth and hope nobody notices. During the ceremony, the 20 or so dancers tie strings around our wrists, bowing as they do so and bestowing all manner of good wishes upon us.

You’re not supposed to take the strings off for three days for their efficacy to remain at full strength.

But I had already had plenty of good fortune – by visiting Laos, such a beautiful country. Gorgeous, innit!

This article was featured in the August 2010 DialAFlight magazine. All information was correct at time of going to print.

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