FOR many people, the thrill of overseas travel lies in the voyage into the unknown. But for those of us who want fewer thrills and more peace and quiet, a voyage into the known is the better option.
Having visited Luang Prabang in Laos two years ago, I already knew the town offered cheap and delicious food, charming streets lined with palm trees and temples, and gorgeous handicrafts sold by the night market’s distinctly un-pushy stallholders (so un-pushy, in fact, that some have to be roused from slumber to make a sale). Hence my reason for visiting again.
Arriving in the late afternoon at the bus station after a numbing eight-hour ride from Vang Vieng, I took a tuk tuk to the town centre, found my hotel and headed out to the main drag to revive myself with a mango shake for the grand price of $1. Icy beverage in hand, I wandered along the street reacquainting myself with the sights and watching the market ease into action.
For a geographically challenged person such as myself, Luang Prabang is a blessing. Nestled between two rivers – the mighty Mekong and the Nam Khan – the UNESCO World Heritage site’s simple layout means many of the sights are on the main street, in the section known as Sisavangvong Road. It is along this street that the handicraft night market tempts tourists with beautiful embroidery, jewellery, toys, lamps and the like at ridiculously tiny prices. Travel companies offer adventure treks in the surrounding countryside to meet hill tribes, swim in waterfalls and work with elephants. At the end of the street the culinary adventure begins with an alley of hawker stalls.
While they’re unlikely to score any Michelin stars, the stalls at the night market allow visitors – and locals, too – to fill up on Lao fare such as grilled fish and meat on skewers, salads and herb-heavy stews. If all this variety overwhelms, there’s always the option of filling a plate for 10,000?Kip ($1.20) at one of several buffet stalls – the dishes are tamer and more tourist-oriented, but for that price, who’s complaining?
Sated after dinner and a restful sleep, the next day began with a leisurely breakfast of banana pancake and Lao coffee at an outdoor café overlooking the Mekong. A stroll through the morning market took me past stalls selling all kinds of produce including tropical fruit, vegetables, freshly slaughtered poultry…and live toads, which I decided to forego, opting for a more conservative iced coffee at L’Etranger, a French-run cafe and second-hand bookshop that also screens movies nightly. My motive for slipping into this booklovers’ haven was not so much to settle in for a good, long reading session but to escape the madness of Pi Mai, or Lao New Year.
Celebrated over about three days in mid-April, Pi Mai involves washing away anything bad from the year that is ending in order to start the new one afresh. Traditionally this involved a small amount of water being poured politely over the body to bring luck both to the pourer and to the recipient. Any politeness has given way to the modern version – piling as many scantily-clad friends as you can onto the back of a ute with bins full of water, huge water pistols, flour bombs, sooty frying pans (with which to blacken the faces of passers by) and copious quantities of Beerlao.
The aim of the game is to drive around, Western hip hop and pop tunes blaring, while throwing water over anybody who happens to be going past, the result being the largest water fight in Laos.
Save from barricading yourself inside, there’s no way to avoid being drenched, with even sweet old grandmothers and little kids lying in wait outside their homes armed with hoses, buckets and supersoakers.
And so it was that, having dried off at L’Etranger after a morning splashing, I was saturated within minutes of leaving the safety of its four walls. But in the summer heat, the soakings were actually welcome – as was the Pi Mai afternoon parade of floats carrying monks, various ethnic and martial arts groups, young girls in traditional costume and more than a handful of drag queens.
What of my plan for a relaxing break? It got washed away in one of my many drenchings. Sometimes it’s better just to go with the flow. There’s peace and quiet in Luang Prabang for the other 362 days in the year, after all.
