From Bangkok to Lao… and not a single quote from Paul Theroux.

Bangkok’s main train station is a fairly chaotic place. Thai’s and foreigner’s mill around the large bustling station waiting for the steady stream of trains that head to all corners of this intriguing country.

Large groups of backpackers wander around hunting for food to take on what is, from my experience, a long and sweaty journey.

Mine would take me, eventually, from Bangkok to Vientiane the capital of the landlocked People’s Republic of Laos.

While I’d managed to pick up a ticket to Non Kai, the Thai side of the border, there was still a question as to whether I could actually get a train across to Laos.

It was reported that a new train was in operation from February this year that would take you to within twenty kilometers of the countries capital. Why it didn’t run closer is anyone’s guess.


After picking up supplies for the journey I sat watching at one point in the evening the countries national anthem started playing and all the Thais, and any of the visitors, stood as one in respect.

I’ve treated myself to a first class seat on what, according to the ticket, is a 12 hour journey. The cabin is small and basic but air-conditioned, unlike second class.

My traveling companion has already made himself comfortable. Tom, an American who has taken up the option of a retirement visa here. He is heading to North East Thailand to visit his girlfriend.


He hales from California and his luggage, together with my large rucksack, takes up most of the floor space of the cramped accommodation… I really must learn to pack less stuff.

An affable chap who speaks well and has a very friendly disposition, he’s had a varied working career having spent time as a teamster, at a race track in California, having tried to train as a lawyer and now, despite his move to Thailand, he’s working as a partner in a US tax firm.

Tom’s first trip to Thailand was six years a go and fell in love with the place. He has a Thai girlfriend, 30 years his junior, who lives in Udon Thani, and his bags are filled with presents for her family.


I raise the specter of the common stereotypical foreigner who comes to Thailand looking for love, but he succinctly notes that in Thailand such relationships are not only common with foreigners but also between Thais.

“Age really means nothing to the Thais, my girlfriend’s family just want her to be happy and for them my age is irrelevant. As long as she is happy and well looked after that’s all that matters,” he says.


Ju, a jewelry seller who has moved to Bangkok from Isaten who I get chatting to in one of Bangkok’s many bars backs this up. She has one child, the father, a Thai who is 25 years older than her, is no longer on the scene. She adds that while it is no longer officially recognized many older Thais may also take a second, younger, wife.

It’s a late train and after food is served the attendant comes in to transform the cabin into two sleeping bunks.

Very quickly I’m dead to the world, but sleep is fitful as the trains shudders and jolts to a stop numerous times during the night. More than once we see cattle being encouraged off the line and some stops are quite lengthy.


According to my ticket we are due into Non Kai at 8am. I wake around 6.30. According to Tom we hit Udon at 7.15am, but when the attendant is quizzed about this he confirms that we won’t make it until 9am. It should take 45 minutes to Non Kai from there, which only leaves 15 minutes to make my connecting train to Laos.

In fact we don’t get Udon until 10.15… oh well it is Asia, you get used to these things. It seems I’m a lot more relaxed when travelling here than usually!

We rock into Non Kai station at 11.05. There is a train another train at the station, but the schedule says it only departs for Laos at 16.00!


I head to the ticket office asking, just on the off chance, what time the next train is. “10am to Laos” comes back the response!

The train has been held for us and, as quickly as anything happens here, we are herded through immigration to be set on our way across the Friendship Bridge and into Laos.

Cheers,

Blocka

Having a peep at Beau Rivage

Slightly off the beaten track Beau Rivage is still within striking distance of Vientiane, Laos’s capital, centre and occupies prime real estate on the banks of the Mekong.

Getting there we head off the main road down a track that runs parallel to the massive river. The rains have been heavy and the mighty estuary, according to locals, is far higher than it should be at this time of the year. The Chinese have damned the river further up and now the Laotian government struggle to stop it bursting its banks.

The red clay potholes in the road are awash with water and we rattle down the street eventually reaching the pink fronted hotel.

It’s been approaching twenty hours since I departed Bangkok and I’m pretty knackered so I’m very happy to reach my room, a large airy space, whose center piece being a salubrious bed. The feel of the space meshes both tradition Laos cultural with an almost Mediterranean feel.


The room should have a view of the magnificent Meakong but unfortunately, and this is about the only criticism I have, it is obscured almost completely by trees that allow only the briefest glances on the stretch of water separating Laos from its Thai neighbours … a real shame.

A winding staircase, with open slats leads up to your room slippery under foot you don’t want to be heading up them if you’ve had a few beers and it’s been raining.


Vientiane has changed a great deal since I first arrived here 11 years ago. There now is the usual mix of new four wheel drives monsters and bikes that now occupy its streets, many of which remain little more than mud tracks.

New concrete malls have replaced many of the old shop houses and food shops. I desperately try to hunt for a place we used to hang out in that sold the best, raw, spring rolls, but it appears to have disappeared into the center of a concrete mall.

I did however manage to find a street stall selling pate and French bread… marvelous pate, course, is served with Coleslaw and some form of ham, all in the one roll.

Laotians are, in general, far more reserved than their Thai and Vietnamese neighbours. It’s really only the Tuk Tuk drivers that seriously tout for business. You walk unmolested past massage parlours, while food and drink stalls will generally only shout out a cheery good day, without ever really trying to get you to taste their wares.

The banks of the Mekong are strewn with bbq food stalls, selling varieties of grilled foods. These wooden structures are usually adorned with plastic roofs and are wrapped in all manner of colorful Laotian advertising... although most of it is for Beet Lao, a great drop!

Sitting at one of these may stalls, having a beer, the staff readily break for lunch. Ignoring me they settle down to a shared plate of fresh looking food. I hear the word for foreigner mentioned a number of times, but have a feeling it is not in relation to me.

We get chatting and one of them asks if I play pool. They are trying to learn and want someone to practice with and I’m more than happy to help out!

Cheers,

Blocka