Only a few years ago the road from Vieng Phoukha to Huai Xai, at the border to Thailand, was nothing but a track that was impassable in the rainy season. It is, however, a ride of 120 km so I hope the best but fear the worst. For a long time the road is fine. Then asphalt begin to crumble away again … For some 10 km the road is substandard. People are clearly working on this stretch of road as well. I see their tools, tents and materials but only once do I see a team of workers actually doing something that could be classified as “working.” Or rather, two guys were doing something while two other guys where power napping. This just seems a common pattern. People have physical hard, manual work that I don’t envy them, but usually when I see men they are leaning against a shovel or sleeping under an something that provides shade. It is my impression that Lao women works quite of a lot harder than their men do – perhaps if they hired more women to maintain the roads they would see things happen. Actually, I do see women workers at construction sites … employers must have realized the same potential in the Lao women.

Oh, and while we are at it. If they replaced half of the male members of the Lao government with women, things might change to the better on the political front as well.

But I’m digressing. Back on the road it starts raining quite hard. I encounter a problem I have been spared so far: I seriously need to go to the toilet. There’s unfortunately little hope I will encounter a toilet any time soon. In the end, I see no other choice than to pull over and do what I have to do at the roadside. So into the bush I go loaded with toilet paper. The rain is still pouring down and far away I hear thunder. Squatting butt naked in the bush, I reflect on how this is perhaps not the most glorious moment of my life. At least the lightning is too far away to put me within striking range. That would sure bring me a short burst of fame: Bike tourer killed by lightning in Laos – found dead with pants around his angles. Then again, perhaps you cannot call yourself a proper tourer if you can’t share stories of how you shat at the roadside. With that problem solved I move on (fingers washed with soap and all!) And no, there are no pictures  to share of this event!

The last 30 km is on a flat road so for the first time in a long time I’m able to maintain a constant speed above 20 km/h. I reach Huay Xai just before dusk when everybody is engaged in activities like playing petanque, football or badminton, taking a shower or just sitting together chatting. A favorite time of the day.

A small village in Laos somewhere on the road from Vieng Phoukha and Huay Xai. Photo: Joel Schumann, 2010

It turned out a decent day on the bike after all. If you are planning going this way on a bicycle be aware that as far as I can tell there are no guesthouses, and in general few places to by food and water. Eventually they will get the road sorted, I guess, which will make it easier and quicker to pass.

As I sit here in my guesthouse enjoying some Internet spare time, I guess I might as well put down a few words before I leave. The weather has changed recently – it is overcast, temperatures have dropped a few degrees and it is relatively windy. However, it feels like monsoon just will not kick in for real. Good for me, but the locals clearly hope for water for their rice fields and what other crops they grow.

I have just come back from a 2 day detour on my bicycle, where I went to Muang Sing, right next to the border to China. The main attraction of Muang Sing is the people living there, and the tourist draw is “tribal treks” with home stays in local villages. I did not do any guided treks but just going around in the area on my bicycle I got through several “tribe” villages.

I’m attracted to the idea of home stay – something I will pursue if or when I come back to Laos. The idea of these home stays is you stay with a family and participate in their daily life. I’m not a big fan of these tribal treks: They actually try to keep it on a reasonable level in Laos, but still… Whenever I got through a village kids were soon swarming around me trying to sell me all kinds of stuff. From the villagers point of view it is fine that they get a chance to make an extra income. To me these villages looked more or less like the numerous villages I have passed through and sometimes stopped at on my travel, for lunch or just to buy water. The difference being that, in the other villages, the reception was way more quiet and … yes, you might call it “authentic”. The countryside around Muang Sing was beautiful, though, and so was the hilly ride through Nam ha national park.

In one of the villages I bought a bracelet from this girl and she let me take her picture:

Girl in of the small villages around Muang Sing, Laos. Photo: Joel Schumann, 2010

It is now less than a handful of days before I reach Thailand again. Today will be an easy ride (60 km) to Vieng Poukha, where I plan to stay tomorrow. Then other two days to get to the border. That is, if all goes according to my plan.

Oudum Xai in Laos, where I spend one day is a city of some 80.000 people and a key trading post, as it connects the main roads of the area and is near to China. You would expect such a city to be linked with at least half decent roads, not? My departure is delayed as it is raining and I choose to spend time some quality time in company with the Internet and a solid breakfast. I have plenty of time after all … 120 km should not be a problem!? On my last update, I estimated that 5-10% of the road I rode on to get to Oudum Xai had vanished. To be honest, I was a bit kind on the Lao Road Service on that estimate… it probably was a fair bit worse. I have hardly left town before the road is doing its vanishing trick again … and to cut the story short: For the first 50 km there simply was no road surface at all or it was the same on-off situation. With the rain pouring down all morning, it was a muddy, rocky hell. Then clouds parted, and I reached a descent on a perfectly smooth asphalt road that got me thinking that the rest of the day would be fine.

On the descent, I meet to cyclists. Strange thing is, they are nor riding their bikes, but pushing them up the hill. “Weaklings,” I think, “can’t deal with a bit of climbing”. Still, I do stop to talk to them. Susanna and Jürgen have ridden their bikes from Germany and have plenty of gruesome stories to tell: of stubborn Chinese authorities, substandard roads and mechanical problems. I have a look at their bikes and they sure are in a pathetic state. There is hardly anything but the compass on Susanna’s bike that is working as it was intended. There’s little I can do to help them, at least not at the roadside – and I feel sorry for leaving them behind with nothing more than a wish for good luck. While I continue downhill they resume pushing their bikes uphill. Welcome to the world of bike touring. – And people back home insist on calling it “vacation”.

As the downhills ends, so does the good road. At least, this time it is more gravel and dirt than rocks, and this I can better handle. As I reach I get something to eat and rides on, even though I notice the town has a couple of guesthouses. I soon notice I have a flat. Another sign from above, I reckon, and decides to go back to one of the guesthouses.

Next day is an easy ride on well maintained roads to Luang Nam Tha. Here I’m told that the roads’ condition is due to a Chinese team having carved off the road surface. The road is going to be resurfaced soon. Now I understand!

House and children from a small village in the North of Laos. Photo: Joel Schumann, 2010

Small village in the mountains of Northern Laos, almost invisible because of the cloud. Photo: Joel Schumann, 2010

Houses at the road from Oudum Xai to Luang Nam Tha. Photo: Joel Schumann, 2010

On today’s schedule is 115 km of cycling from Nong Khiaw to Oudum Xai. Again, I’m not sure what lies ahead – will it be mostly flat or one large mountain, how many possibilities will I have to buy food and water along the way? So I aim for an early start. I have my breakfast at a place, where I’ve got to know the friendly young couple running it. We end up talking quite a bit, which delays my departure. To make things worse I chat up another tourist. Reason? He is flashing a Pentax camera (we Pentax users are a rare species these days) and seems to be writing, so I’m curious if he is a travel writer or something. Eric from France is travelling by motorbike, doing a bit of small scale writing for a local paper, and we end up having a long conversation. Once again, it is getting late before I finally hit the road.

The first 30 km back to Pak Mong is well known territory since I’ve just been going in the other direction. For once I feel strong and maintain a constant speed. I’m rather high on experiences and am humming the David Sylvian/Nine Horses song “Wonderful World” to myself. At the turn towards Oudum Xai real fun begins! The road is soon in an appalling state, asphalt simply gone missing in large patches leaving a rough gravel road to ride on. I hope things will improve once I’m out of the city, but is turns out this is to be the order of the day. Maybe 5-10 percent of the road have gone missing, small pieces of road maybe 10-20 meter followed by 300 meter decent asphalt, then another section of gravel road. At the same time the road starts turning upwards. As a result my average speed for the next 50 km is less than 10 km/h. On the few descents I have to ride slowly across the rocky parts to minimise the rumble and to reduce the risk of flats. When I do get a flat I find that my pump is not working properly. Another piece of kit that breaks down – and not the best time for gear to fail! I shall have a serious talk with the guys at Roseversand that sold me the Red Bull, when I get back!

With 32 km to go, I ride through a small town with a guesthouse and considers if I should call it quit for the day. I only have two hours or so before it gets dark. I decide to run the risk – in some perverse way I guess I hope I do not make it and have to find a place to stay in a private home in one of the small villages. After a while I’m finally rewarded with an excellent descent with occasional views of the valley below bathed in golden light of the sunset. The final km into town are on a nice, flat road. It is dark when I check in at a guest house. Talk about timing!

It’s a wonderful world
Full of wonderful things

(Nine Horses)

People working in the rice fields. Laos 2010. Photo: Joel Schumann

As I write this update I’m sitting on the balcony enjoying the late afternoon sun and the view over the small village Nong Kiaw and river Nam Ou. Enjoying is perhaps not fully covering the state I’m in, suffering is also part of it – it is just so ridiculously hot and humid. In theory my balcony with river view (sounds posh, eh?) at least provide a bit of a breeze, but that is just that – theory. The mirror reflection on my laptop shows my upper body drenched in sweat. Hold on, I think I’ll just take a cold shower.

… Okay! Based on weather charts and word of mouth I was expecting some more rainy days with more mild temperatures, but no! Anyhow, I’m just angling for sympathy or excusing myself, for the fact is the past weeks  have been testing at times but still such a enjoyable experience that I cannot consider myself anything but privileged … Oh, bugger, I certainly am getting sentimental on my older days.

Since last, I managed to escape the gravitational pull of Luang Prabang. Once again, I got up to the first rays of the rising sun and watched the monks do their thing. Then it was all a my and my bicycle doing a highway 13 job towards my next goal, Nong Khiaw. I did not make it that far, though. Too many rest days and too little sleep the night before had taken its toll, and I could not get the heavily loaded Red Bull move up the never ending short hills at any half decent speed. Still, a ride of 115 km. So pit stop in Pak Mong, where I’m off to Wonder Land the moment my head hits the pillow. Short nap, up for a late dinner, back to bed – that sum’s up  my experience of Pak Mong.

Next days ride to Nong Khiaw is only a short 30 km or something like that. So that is where I am now: a tiny, quiet town on the river Nam Ou. Been out exploring the countryside, visited a nearby cave where villagers lived during the 2nd Indochina War and explored some back roads to see where they would take me (see photos). Tourism is in its infantry here, so very little information on what to do. The big thing is to go upriver in a boat to the village of Muang Ngoi Neua, and that was my initial plan. However, after Studying the map and counting the days I have left in Laos, I decided the dear villagers will have to do without me. 30 days in Laos are just not enough. I will now start going towards Thailand again. Before I leave town there is a herbal steam bath and massage centre near by, which I consider trying out tonight. So that’s all folks.

View of mountains in Laos, with a corn field in front. Countryside near Nong Khiaw. Photo: Joel Schumann, 2010

Bumpy, unpaved backroad in Laos I explored on my bicycle. Around Nong Khiaw. Photo: Joel Schumann, 2010

PS. Just now a group of about 10 women and girls are giving themselves a good scrub in the river – for all I can tell they are shaving legs and all – and washing some clothes. This is taking part on “my” side of the river while some kids are splashing about on the other side. Do each sex have their own side? It feels rather voyeuristic watching them, even though there are decently covered in sarongs – and the distance is perhaps 50m. I often see similar scenes from the road, and don’t quite know what to do with my eyes: Is ignoring them altogether, just staring straight ahead, more impolite than giving them a “hello”? These baths are a public and social activity for the villagers, but I feel I’m intruding on their private space.