It's 5:30 in the morning and the roosters have been driving me mental since the first light of dawn.... The mist covers the green, lush and virgin monsoon forest of the mountains surrounding us and the principal character of this landscape; The Mekong... The Burmese snake smugglers and the speedboat pilot is trying to hurry us up... We have to go, NOW! Chop, chop!!
Coming down/up here took me a couple of days in "jumbos" and a bus... Red dirt roads winding through the mountains... Very close to China and Burma.. The only traffic passing us is the Chinese trucks carrying loads of lumber, part of the illegal timber trade that robs Laos of it's treasures. The Laos generals being in on the deal and filling their pockets.... From the air, the deforestation looks like open wounds on the hillsides... Recently 41% of Laos was dense woods of precious timber....
As soon as I arrive in Luang Nam Tha airport, I take a "jumbo" into 'town' and to the bus station.. I want to go to Muang Seng further up in the mountains... 5 hrs later and in the last rays of sunlight, we drive into the dusty, forgotten village of Muang Seng... I know the road up here, is supposed to be breathtaking, but I was wedged in between a cage of fowl and a old Hmong ( one of the Laos hill tribes - mainly wearing indigo and black) gentleman travelling with his teapot and sleeping mat.... The old wooden buildings (All 5-6 of them) makes up for center of town, and they are really nice; With the french taste for balcony's and the Asian; for adornments; every little piece of wood over doors, under windows or running along the stairs is either painted with complex designs/flowers or carved....
Here I meet a Kiwi travelling on her own, who's looking for a partner for trekking, but I have to disappoint her.. I'm not big on mountaineering in any shape or form.. I tell her of the 'big' market, there's supposed (According to the Gospel of the Lonely Planet Guide) to happen every fortnight in Xian Kok, another 100Km down the road; Being a bustling river port ( Again according to The Gospel) on the northern tip of what was once "The Golden Triangle" The Hill tribes from Laos, Burma and Thailand is meeting here.. And the plan is to get a boat downriver to Huay Xia ( Border town to Thailand) Where the "Slow boat" will take us to Luang Pra Bang .... She immediately change her plans of retracing her bus ride to Muang Seng and agrees to share the trip with me.. Great! That means cheaper rooms and a bigger chance of getting a Boat ride down Mekong River... As we talk; In comes a sweaty (dripping in fact) Falang (= French= all foreigners) He's German and just walked ( 79 km) from Luang Nam Tha... He's the kind of guy who only refers to himself in third person singular as in "Mr. Timm" and an ex Helicopter Pilot, thinks himself immortal.. So as not to carry too much, while walking the hills.. He has absolutely no aid kit, whatsoever!
Next morning we get a mini bus, actually- such luxury! to Muang Long, where we plan to stay the night... On the bus we meet a Swedish girl, who so dreamy and totally not there.. She is planning the same as us, but will go directly to Xian Kok on the Mekong.. We tell her, we'll get here tomorrow if she doesn't get a boat before...
In Muang Long, (The photo of the sky + bus) which doesn't have a main street.. it's really just a market and a bus stop.. Around 5 in the afternoon, Mr. Timm rolls in with a exhaust pipe burn on his leg... I give him some iodine, some antibacterial cleaning gear - The man sure travels light and a ignorant of the obvious facts and dangers... Laos goes to sleep at 9 pm and gets up at first light, and even I have now got that routine.... In choosing Guesthouse, and we did have an alternative! We overlooked the fact, that only young girls and small babies seem to inhabit the establishment..( And in case you didn't know already: Bamboo walls are paper thin! - Fantastic on airing and cooling rooms, not great on privacy... ) - Oh, yes and this Opium smoking old man in the backyard, but he had his own hut and therefore wasn't too bothered by the goings on in the main building - So after a bad nights sleep we took the earliest possible vehicle to Xian Kok ...
On the way there, we were only passed by the Lumber trucks and we when we got to the final turn ( The top photo) The "bustling river port town" was actually just a dead, dusty village, a mere shadow of its former glory... But the view of the Mekong and a lonely Stupa ( Buddhist monument in the shape of a cone) in Burma was awe inspiring! A quick walk around town showed us a place with at least 5 "Restaurants", a 'Disco'/brothel, a empty market, where the dogs slept on tables in the deserted stalls and a big white building revealing a ticket booth, and the issuing of borderpass'es, where the some piglets and a couple of chickens lived.... The Fortnight market was a thing of the past, as well...... We later discover, that the village is waiting for drinking water... And that all of the five - something eateries, all the tables laid out and ready to be " invaded" by hungry customers are devoid of food... There's no fruit in the small vending stalls, the bags of crisps and cookies are full of ants and in fact the only food in town is: Cucumbers and lime.....!
Well, we decide to take a brisk, morning walk.. After all, the drive here only took a couple of hours, and during the trip we met some unnameable tribal women, with combs sitting in their hair and some very pretty, embroidered tops.. As well Old style Akha women, with bare breast and huge old (1908- 1939) French 1 ounce silver coins sewed on to their head dress..... And we find this small Akha village, after the big french bridge, carefully avoid going through their "Spirit Gate" and are invited in to a cooking hut......
To be cont.
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