Vang Vieng

From the peaceful serenity of Nong Khiaw to the bizarre overtouristed underbelly of Vang Vieng. This was a strange place to be for a couple days.

Our experience in Vang Vieng is interlocked with ours in Nong Khiaw. In Nong Khiaw, things were beautiful, calm, and close. We regretted leaving so early. Vang Vieng, the opposite.

We arrived after the sun had set to a noisy city. We went to an overprice Thai restaurant called happy mango. Great mango shakes. Decent food. It was across the street from an Irish pub playing all the 80s classics. We would find ourselves there in a couple days. The vibes were strange, but we couldn’t figure out why till the next morning.

We wasted the first full day. We were sad to leave Nong Khiaw, and spent that first day trying to find that relaxation that we had received up North. But none was to be found here. The town is entirely overdeveloped for party tourists. People at the hostels with massive hangovers. Shops selling “Snoop Dogg Cigarettes,” and an anti drug campaign poster threatening jail time right next to it.

I guess what happens is that bars and hostels will sell drugs to tourists, then immidietly snitch on them. The cops will arrest the tourists, levy a fine, and then give the hotel or bar a cut of the fine. There’s a lot of other strange stuff, but to sum it up simply, Vang Vieng represents the worst of over commercialized party SEA tourisms.

Once we understood our surroundings, we made a decision to leave early, and to actually make a day out of our final one here. We were also fairly burnt out from travelling at this point as well. Ever since Hoi An, we haven’t had a chill day that wasn’t full of planning. No down time at all. So that didn’t help the cause. We went zip-lining.

The countryside was pretty nice. Farms in valleys surrounded by limestone mountains. We did four lines working our way down a hill. We were joined by Ben, and Australian scared of heights, but he had a great time.

The goofiness’ wasn’t done there. A common activity in Vang Vieng is cave tubing. Somewhere in the hills lies a limestone cave that has been irrigated to flood with water. And then you bop along in a tube. To my disappointment, there was no current. You pulled yourself along a rope.

And then 5 minutes later, it was done. There was a bit of a walk through the cave after, but that was it. Bewildered, the three of us tried to grapple with the fact that this heavily advertised and hyped activity was so short. Tickets were cheap though, I guess its a novelty.

At sunset, we went for a walk to the river, to see more of the landscape. In the evening (and sunrise) hot air balloons dot the skies. They, and the sun, created a beautiful skyscape to take in. Laos has the best sunsets of anywhere in the world.

We went to the Irish pub with some friends after dinner, got uncomfortable, and left early. We had just made it to the hotel, and right behind us comes Ben, looking absolutely distraught.

It took 15 seconds to figure out there was a girl involved, and another five minutes to get the story. Ben had gone on a really really great date, bought a nice bottle of Australian wine on the walk home, and then when he invited her over for a nightcap, she said no and went to her hotel. We caught him 10 seconds after his heart had been ripped through his chest.

With no-one else to share the wine with, he offered to us, and we accepted. Only problem, no-one had a corkscrew. Some nearby boys had the idea of heating up the little air pocket beneath the cork with lighters. Maybe the air pressure will push the cork out. They saw it on the internet once.

15 minutes later, nothing had happened. We were working Ben through every detail on his date, trying to figure out where it all fell apart. He would change the subject frequently, to home life, or travel, only to change it right back. The lighter boys gave up, and went back to doing their own thing. It was time an alternative method of attack. Ben got his keys, trying to hack the cork to bits. “Just pass the bottle here Cam,” he said.

Then Cam burnt her hand on the wine bottle. The neck was really, really hot. So she was out of commission for the rest of the night, needing to keep it under running cold water to prevent her thumb from stinging.

Ben eventually got the bottle open by taking his toothbrush and smashing the mutilated cork into the bottle. Mark, you would have been ashamed. Turns out there was a pressure built up though Once the cork was pushed through, a geyser of wine sprayed Ben in the face.

We then spent the next hour taking down this whole bottle ourselves, talking about our hobbies and life. Whenever there was silence, Ben would bring up his date, only to shift the conversation away again. When he jumped in the pool, I called it a night.

So that was Vang Vieng. Kind of a miss, but we didn’t give it a fair shot. Ripped away from our love of Nong Khiaw, there’s some poetry that we spent the last night comforting a chap who was ripped away from his potential love (I never learned her name).

There are plenty of swimming holes around here, and a countryside to motorbike around. Maybe next time, maybe never. But were burnt out, so its time for some relaxation. See you at the ocean!