Going Underground

19 August

From Vientiene we were meant to be camping on the way to the Vietnam border. I was quite looking forward to it, actually, as it's been ages since we camped—and ate free. Last time was the night spent clinging to a mountainside in China, when it rained so much it was actually funny. Anyhow, meant to be in a National Park, but rules are fluid things, and it turns out they've changed. No camping allowed without advance permission, so Tim & Cheryl magicked up a remarkable alternative.

Fifteen of us (Corrie opted to go back up to Vang Vieng after a day in Vientine with some girls she met in a bar, for more tubing--this time with people who were more fun than us) drove down to a place called Khong Lo, there to disembark at a riverside village and hop on a fleet of the shallow-bottom boats that race up and down the rivers here. Forty minutes later, and we were parked at a little eco-resort in the middle of nowhere, having a lovely meal on a terrace overhanging the river, and tucked below some amazing black limestone cliffs. Cold Beer Lao, the local version of adirondack chairs, more stars that one normally gets in, well, pretty much anywhere except maybe the Kazakh plain, and a distant lighting storm to watch. Bliss.

Although I am guilty of berating him a tad at first, David managed to score us the best room in the place. Had a fan and an en-suite, and a massive bed with turquoise mosquito net, and was practically in the restaurant itself. I had reservations about the noise (and am apparently an ungrateful whiner anyway—please keep your comments to yourself.) But it turns out that none of the others had bathrooms at all, and only half had fans. This is always an issue in tiny little places, and efforts are made to make sure that it works out to benefit everyone eventually, but I have to say, David did well for us this time.

Next morning, up at 9 for another boat trip in the (really very low riding) river boats, three of us to a boat, upriver through all sorts of hidden rocks and trees with the (mainly) expert local Lao boatmen. Ours did manage to almost tip us out about 5 minutes in, and the hysterically comical look of surprise on his face was worth it. Obviously we weigh more than the average three Laotians.

Anyway, this boat trip is different—it took us through an underground river, more than 7 kilometers winding itself though a phenomenal cave system. The caverns ranged from low and narrow to bigger than a cathedral, with a huge bit in the middle lit up with electricity by your friendly local French development agency. Being French, one random rock is lit in blue, no doubt a comment on the bourgeois nature of stalactites. Or something.

Out the other end for lunch, some more comical almost-dying. Seriously. Sort of. Tee and Le's boat got caught on a small rock-bank / rapid just into the pitch black, and when our boat tried to help, they broke loose and attempted to sail through the middle of us in their escape. Personally, as this was going on behind me (pretty much in David's lap), I was really more concerned about being stuck on a rock in a pitch black cave in a river in Laos and putting my life jacket on as quickly as humanly possible. Apparently I am less than humanitarian of the year.

Anyway. Caves are amazing, and should be in one of those Things You Do Before You Die lists. The first motorboats only went through them about 5 years ago, so this is another sign of the boom in Laos tourism. Get here before everyone else.