Untouched North East Laos
Northeast Laos is the most difficult part of Laos to visit but also the most interesting. This is where the effects of the American 'secret war' were the most severe. During the Vietnam War, the Americans reigned down bombs on Laos in an attempt to cut off the supply chain to the Vietnam Cong, making Laos the most heavily bombed country in the world. Laotians initially had no idea who were bombing them, or that they were collateral damage in a war which did not concern them. Half a century later, America has made no amends for this war crime, and Laos is literally littered with bombs that continue to kill anyone unfortunate enough to find them. This is most visible in Phonsavan, a low-key little town where locals have recycled war paraphernalia everywhere. Pots and planters made with bomb casings, cutlery and lampshades made from recycled aircraft metals. Phonsavans' big draw, the ancient Archeological wonder The Plain of Jars, also carry the scars of gunfire.
The Vieng Xai caves are an elaborate network of caves where over 20,000 Laotians fled for shelter during the war. It also became the headquarters of the Pathet Lao and houses kitchens, bathrooms, hospitals, auditorium and several panic rooms consisting of double door locked airtight rooms with air pumps. It’s quite extraordinary.
The only other tourist was a young German who had just crossed the border from Vietnam. On the way back to Sam Neua, he pointed out large patches of deformed land on the mountains. Mangled tree stumps and brown grass contrast starkly with the usual jungle terrain. 'Agent Orange', he explained to me, 'just like in Vietnam'. I’d thought the mountains in Laos were some of the most untouched mountains I'd ever seen, not a single walking track or road cut into them. Half a century later, these chemical burns were only just starting to heal.
We ambled through Sam Neua town, through the bizarre markets selling live writhing insects and BBQ dog, to the temple with weird plastic replicas of cliffs and waterfalls, and back by the river which reminds me of a smaller version of the Parisian seine. By night, the town is ghostly quiet, apart from some children playing on the street. 'Hello!' They call out, giggling at the novelty of speaking English.
Back at the guesthouse, the German kisses me. 'I don't want to complicate my life.' I told him by way of declining. 'Things are only complicated if you make them complicated' he says. He's probably right, but he's also 9 years younger than me so I feel justified in ignoring this wisdom if it’s going to save me from becoming a cougar.
The next day he drives me to the bus station. 'Thanks for the ride' I say.
'Thanks for the day' he replies. And off I go to Nong Kiaw and off he goes to Phonsavan.
That's life on the road for you ain’t it.