Vang Viene

     

             I arrived in Vang Viene scant months after the government decided to put the kibosh on the wild Spring Break style madness that predominated and centered around tubing down the river and stopping at multiple bars for lots of drinking and drugs. The place had a bit of a ghost party town feel with far too many guesthouses and banana-chocolate pancake munchies stands for how many people were there. Opinions on why the government decided to crack down vary but common themes were various embassies complaining about the deaths of their citizens (30 some tourist fatalities a year) by drowning, overdose and jumping off of things into shallow, rocky waters and the fact that Laos is hosting some European-Asian tourist summit and the fact of Vang Viene and its reputation leading to a possible ‘loss of face’ (to be avoided at all costs by Asians obviously). Regardless, I wasn’t too bothered by missing out on the scene really, I’m not 21 anymore after all, and the landscape was still beautiful with limestone karsts (cliffs) surrounding the town and picturesque rice paddies. I had re-met the American boys from Pai on the bus and we ended up sharing a room, which was nice. They’re rock-climbing enthusiasts and had all their equipment with them and were nice enough to take me and the Argentinian and South African climbing on nearby cliffs one day. Was an amazing and exhilarating experience though actually quite terrifying. I was involuntarily shaking a bit as I climbed up this cliff face, already perched halfway up a mountain and had to be reassured multiple times that, “yes, that rope will actually hold you if you do fall and you won’t plunge to your death, promise.” Made it to the top and indeed did feel a bit more confident as I finally let go and let it hold my weight to be safely lowered to the ground. Also got to be the person on belay duty and feel the thrill of holding another man’s life in some clips around my waist. So yeah, really cool of them to take us up and a lot of fun.

                We actually did go tubing, getting together a decent sized group and our own drinks. Was laid-back but still rather pleasant and fun. There actually was still one bar open the first day we went and we stopped there for some drinks with a wild and drunken Contiki tour group. However, two days later we went again and the bar had been raided by the police the previous day and was all boarded up and the steps up to it from the river and been smashed into kindling. I, somewhat morbidly, suggested they should actually give tubing ghost tours down the river to make up the lost income from tubing being shut down. There were all these burned down bars, derelict giant slides, cut rope swings and abandoned mud tug-of-war pits along the river. “Six Brits on ‘gap year’ lost their lives going off this slide, if you listen closely you still hear their drunken cries. Nearby locals sometimes report seeing the incredibly mellow and relaxed ghost of the Canadian who took too much opium, missed the bridge where you’re supposed to get off the river and floated serenely on until plunging off the waterfall to his death.” Some of the bars still have a special “happy menu” with weed/mushroom pizza and shakes or opium tea on offer though the police seem now to be supplementing their income by finding people smoking on the streets or by the river and charging them $500 dollars to avoid going to jail. Met a few people with that story. I had been drinking a bit one night and saw some Aussie guy I’d met previously having a pizza, so started talking to him a bit and being incredibly hungry at the time quickly and unthinkingly accepted the half of his mushroom pizza he no longer wanted. That turned into an interesting night to say the least. There was some local carnival in town and I have vague impressions of being in a bumper car with psychedelic lights driving around being chased around by laughing locals. Let’s see, also did a little cave exploring, saw a gigantic spider, and swam in a lagoon. Rented some of the local bikes, which are one-speed and incredibly rickety and not good on hills. Was extremely hot and so of course we were riding around shirtless but apparently part of the “new” Vang Viene was enforcement of rules about wearing shirts as we got stopped at a police checkpoint and told to put ours back on. I’ll never understand how a culture of modesty developed in a place so damned hot. Seems like everyone would be more comfortable going with a National Geographic Africa style. Oh well, when in Rome I guess. 

                   Some funny stories: was standing outside the hostel one day and this Western girl comes flying down the street on a motorbike screaming, “HELP!!! HELP!!!! How do I stop?!” She did actually eventually figure it out before crashing to the amusement and sarcastic applause of the locals. There were quite a few prostitutes out and about at night there, including some lady boys who seemed unclear on the normal hand movements for massages as they were offering them but making a jerk-off motion. Some Israeli guy actually brought a prostitute back to the hostel but his friend apparently had the room key as he seemed to be hinting that he’d sure appreciate if he could use someone’s room. Predictably there were no takers on that offer and when we came back to the hostel a bit later he was in a hammock doing something, likely unspeakable, with her. Finally decided I’d had enough of Vang Viene and cleared out northwards to the town of Luang Prabang.