Houayxai to Luang Namtha

I woke up on my 64th day of traveling in Asia to some bad news: Anne had caught a cold, and we were now literally stuck in Luang Namtha, a small village in northern Laos bordering China and Burma.

After crossing the Thai–Laos border at Houayxai—and realizing that Portuguese citizens will always pay more for visas than Germans (35 USD for me, 30 USD for Anne)—we spent the night at the Friendship Hotel, located on the main (and only) street of this rather unpleasant village. We struggled to find people to share a longboat for the two-day trip to Luang Namtha. A single boat costs about 7,000 Baht (around 175 EUR) and supposedly takes no more than five passengers. I ran up and down the street with my Lonely Planet wide open, asking every Westerner whether they were heading to Luang Namtha and wanted to share a boat with a wonderful multicultural couple. Apparently, everyone was going south to Luang Prabang, which made me break another Buddhist precept (the first being drinking alcohol): swearing. I swore in every possible language. It was late, getting cold, and the thought of spending another night at the border was deeply discouraging. Eventually, we found a French couple (merci!) and a Dutch girl who had the good taste of going in the same direction as us.

At 6:30 a.m., Anne’s alarm rang. I woke up without the slightest idea of where I was. It was far too early to get out of bed—there should be a law against waking up before 11:00 while on holiday. One and a half hours later we were sitting in the boat, getting our asses wet and trying to find a comfortable position for the next eight hours of engine noise, damp clothes, and impatient bladders.

The boat was operated by two young Lao men: one at the back steering and controlling the engine, and another at the front, perched on the bow, saving us from any deadly rock collisions. We started out under a clear blue sky, warm enough for t-shirts, and were pleasantly surprised by our speed. It didn’t take long, however, before we all made a desperate run for our backpacks. The sun vanished behind a dense fog, water splashed in unexpectedly every time we hit rapids, the wind turned as cold as a Himalayan breeze, and our only defense was to pull on fleeces and windbreakers and hope the sun would return.

At 13:00 we stopped on the banks of the Namtha River for lunch. Ten minutes later our captains were shouting for us to return. We didn’t really eat; we swallowed our food without chewing.

Shortly before sunset we reached the small place where we were to spend the night. Anne and I had our first homestay in Laos. Together with the French couple and the Dutch girl, we were warmly welcomed by a friendly Lao family, dozens of curious children, frightened dogs, and long-legged wild chickens. Dinner was delicious: sticky rice, sweet potato, and a hot vegetable soup. We drank Beerlao and talked until the darkness made it impossible to see anything outside. At 20:00, we went to sleep.

Morning arrived with a symphony of roosters that, at 5:00 a.m., gave us absolutely no chance of falling back asleep. Breakfast came, and soon we were off for the final day of our Namtha river journey.

One important detail I keep forgetting: Anne also keeps a digital diary—aber nur auf Deutsch. Hier lang: http://ahoffmeister.wordpress.com.