Back to Indochina: Laos

A bit of background

Before returning to the back-catalogue of tales from India, our week in Laos has gone all too quickly and here we are home once again. Needless to say we had an amazing trip and Laos is possibly the most laid-back country on the planet. As anticipated it is very much like Cambodia, but without the hassle (backpackers excluded!)

Both Cambodia and Laos are categorized by the UN with 'Least Developed Country' status. They share similar infant mortality rates (between 55-60 deaths per 1000 births - the ratio in the US is 6:1000). The average life expectancy for both countries weighs in around 60. They have similar literacy rates at just over 72% and most children attend school for 9-10 years. Both countries rank appallingly in the world-wide corruption index (Laos comes in at 154 of 183, Cambodia at 164). Both were French colonies, and it shows, baguettes and cafe culture abound.

On the ground Cambodia appears to be the more developed of the two. In general there is better infrastructure, better roads (not good roads, just better roads), a small, but noticeable middle-class (as well as a small outrageously wealthy elite) and the greatest test of all in Asian development - the presence of Kentucky Fried Chicken. However, that is where Cambodia's edge ends (if you can count KFC as having an edge).

Most strikingly of all, Laos does not appear to be suffering from any of the child protection issues that are the scourge of Cambodia. I could count on one hand the number of begging children encountered in Laos (in Cambodia there were hundreds). There is no evidence of rampant padeophilia (by Westerners), child neglect or abandonment.

In fact, homelessness across the board appeared to be virtually nonexistent as was any evidence of starvation. There is also virtually no harassment and pestering. You are allowed to wander the market without items being shoved in your face, tuk-tuk drivers don't accost you relentlessly and restauranteurs don't stand on the sidewalk trying to lure you in.

Say what you will, but I suspect this culture has something to do with the fact that Laos is a Communist state and the government despite many, many serious flaws (not least that it is a one-party dictatorship in which all other political parties are banned) does manage to provide a very rudimentary social safety net. Laos also has one of the lowest unemployment rates in the world, a meager 2.5%  - ranking it 21 out of 199 putting it way ahead of Switzerland, Germany and the USA.

The Lao government also began encouraging private enterprise in 1986 and since then (with a brief blip from the Asia economic crisis in the late 90s) the Lao economy has grown by more than 6% each year. It is Laos' goal to graduate from Least Developed Country Status by 2020 and they appear to be on track to do so. The Chinese, as in Cambodia, are also on the scene - they are currently spending a whopping $7 billion (USD) to kit out Laos with a high-speed rail linking Vientiane with the Chinese border.

Onto the journey

Well, I'm not going to lie, our journey didn't get off to the greatest start. As if I don't hate flying enough, getting up at 3:00am for 7:45am flight is even worse. Add to that trying to get Ian up and it's like lining cats up for a parade. Anyway, we made it to the airport in plenty of time, had a smooth 2.5 hour flight and were on the ground by 9:30am Vientiane time.

Things did not immediately improve. The Lao government has put a flat rate of $7 for the taxi ride into town. This is by all means an exorbitant sum for this part of the world, but $7 isn't exactly going to break the bank and sometimes you just roll with it. I was ready to roll, Ian was gearing up for a fight. In the end we got the taxi - needless to say, it would have been a lengthy walk into town and a tuk-tuk would have saved us no more than about $2. This did not prevent me hearing about our squandered $7 for the rest of the morning. Pointing out that we really only frittered away a couple of bucks as a tuk-tuk still would have cost money apparently did not help the situation.

We arrived at our accommodation. Now, I'm a pretty hardened traveler and have survived many nights in inferior accommodation, but this was pretty sub-par. As always my first exploration of our new digs took me straight to the bathroom. I was instantly swarmed by mosquitoes (we were to discover that even in the dry season, mosquitoes were still a pretty serious problem) and as I victoriously crushed the life out of one unfortunate skeeter against the bathroom wall, I noticed that a large portion on the bathroom wall was indeed smeared with mosquito guts and blood from previous guests whom had fought the same losing battle. Charming.

The bathroom also had that delightful scent of raw sewage that accompanies one virtually everywhere in Asia and the shower curtain was positively streaked with slimy black mold. Too tired and dirty to care, I hopped in the shower while Ian plugged up gaps in the windows and fans with plastic bags to keep the infestation down and we set off in search of food.

Still bristling from our massive over-expenditure on our taxi fare, we made several aborted attempts to get some food, no way was Ian going to let breakfast set us back another $7! We (I) did eventually locate a small noodle shop, crammed with locals and commanded we stop. We ordered two steaming bowls of Pho and were richly rewarded. We topped up our soups with a dazzling array of condiments: fish sauce, limes, sugar, soy, pickled chillies and no less than two kinds of amazing (super hot) chilli paste. Washed, fed and on the ground holiday could officially begin.

Indian Summer

Looking back it struck me that I really failed to write anything of substance regarding our trip to India - which considering what a big trip it was, is a rather monumental failing on my part.

I did a quick photo blog of Lav's wedding, which does nicely sum everything up - it was absurdly delightful and I am now the owner of not one, but two saris. So let me please just insert a plea here to all my Indian friends, please have a large traditional Indian wedding and please invite me - just so I can say I wore them twice.

Underestimating what a toll a week-long Indian wedding takes on a person, a few other friends and I opted to stay on in India for another 10 days. Wedding festivities completed we flew north to Delhi - the home of our friend Ankit, whose outrageous hospitality and help is unlikely to ever be superseded (even by my own mother) and I am I still trying to figure out how to best thank him.

Settling in nicely to Ankit's beautiful home (hand-carved marble staircase from Rajasthan, you know, normal stuff) we took to the sites of Delhi. Ankit lives in Greater Kailash II, so for anyone who has read The White Tiger, you'll have a pretty good picture of what it's like - if you haven't read it, read it and find out for yourself - it's a terrific read.

I digress. We spent some time in Delhi, including a sunset trip to the Lotus Temple, the Red Fort and a rickshaw ride around Chandni Chowk (a large market in old Delhi). Now I've seen a lot of markets - I have market fatigue the way people get church and castle fatigue in Europe. But even Chandi Chowk did not fail to impress, it is dirty (filthy really), beautiful and positively bursting at the seams.

I'm also fairly certain that given the right opportunities our rickshaw driver could have been an Olympic athlete. I imagine he was probably younger than he actually looked (he could have been anywhere between 40-70), but he was 100% muscle and sinew and hauled two of us around (probably weighing in at a solid 250lbs between us) like it was all part of a normal days work (which of course it was).

Now, this would have been impressive just based on the presence of 250lbs of white girls in his rickshaw. Add to that: narrowed, busy, cramped, and wildly uneven dirt paths and roads and 90+ degree heat. It was truly phenomenal, and mercifully spared myself the indignity of joining the general bustle and having to dodge sewers, dog faeces, live electrical wires and other life-threatening obstacles. We did take a few major potholes (ravines might be a more accurate description) at some speed and I was congratulating myself on the purchase of a better than usual travel insurance policy. We survived, and paid him what Ankit assured us was an exorbitant sum, but still less than any of you earned per hour in your lowest-paying job ever.

Delhi is a big city, as of 2011, the 8th largest in the world with a population approaching 17 million (22 for the metro area). So secure in that knowledge, the sheer mass of humanity that you encounter at every turn is utterly unsurprising, so it wasn't until we set off for the countryside that India's massive population really made an impression on me.

After chickening out on a trip to Srinigar, the summer capital of India-occupied Kashmir (I'll get there eventually) we settled on an ambitious tour of the 'Golden Triangle'. The Golden Triangle takes in Agra (ie the Taj Mahal, Agra is otherwise a verifiable dump) and Jaipur, perhaps the crown jewel of Mogul India. And more on all that in the next (belated) Indian installment.

Christmas Island

I have to say that in spite of all the decorations and making Ian crazy with the Nutcracker on repeat in the weeks and days leading up to Christmas, that hot weather at the holidays is just plain weird. I kept trying to reassure myself of the novelty of it all and how I couldn't wait to rub it in to everyone back home that I'd been for a nice long swim in my pool on Christmas day, but the festive feeling was, until the very last minute, lacking entirely. Fortunately, there's nothing like a bottle of white wine at 11:30am and a few gifts to kick things into gear and suddenly it was Christmas.

I get ahead of myself. Taking advantage of Ian's family visit we set off for Pangkor. Pangkor is a small island about halfway between KL & Penang, and despite having heard fairly positive things about it, I was withholding judgement as to how it would rate as a beach destination particularly given its location in the high-traffic and murky waters of the Straits of Malacca.

We arrived well after dark and the first thing that struck me (aside from the carnation pink people-carrier taxis that are driven with wild abandon over the hills and around the curves of the island interior) was a genuinely alarming lack of Chinese people. Now, we've been in Malaysia for exactly 14 months and that is long enough to learn that, where there are Chinese there is beer and no Chinese people = no beer. This would certainly be a sorry way to start off a trip to the beach.

My suspicions were confirmed when there was only one place in the entire village with beer and I do not exaggerate when I say that every, single white person in town was there. Normally, I would avoid this type of place like the plague but it was agreed all-round that after a 6 hour journey involving a long car ride, noisy ferry and high-speed suspension-less taxi ride that the availability of beer trumped all. We had a thoroughly mediocre meal, enjoyed a few ice cold Tigers, took a quick turn about the town, called it a night and prayed for sunshine the following day.

Our prayers were answered, we awoke to a lovely sunny day and afraid that it might end at any moment grabbed our gear and set out for the beach. In a moment of blind excitement we foolishly attempted to cut off a corner of the walk by cutting through a patch of jungle rather than follow the road. We were instantly swarmed, and I mean swarmed, by mosquitoes and quickly came upon a troop of cheeky macaques, we promptly abandoned the trek, located the beach and made for the lovely, clear warm water letting the salt assuage our recently acquired battle scars.


Although limited in cultural exploits, Pangkor does have more to offer in terms of wildlife than macaques and mosquitoes and (with the aid of our fancy new camera lens) we saw our first hornbills in the wild. I'm sure we were also surrounded by any number of poisonous deadly snakes and the sea bed was riddled with exceptionally large slimy sea slugs and spikey sea urchins.

We returned to KL to commence our holiday celebrations. Ian did (finally) get me that beautiful porcelain Chinese lamp - and even condescended to spend an extra $30 on the lampshade. We had a delicious dinner of rosemary encrusted pork loin with with mustard cream sauce, braised leeks and mashed potato - it had nothing on Grandma's prime rib, but it certainly did the trick. Boxing Day we went to Trader's for drinks where (as usual) the service was terrible and the drinks overpriced, but the view is unbeatable.