This trip – as I had expected – turned out to be an adventure and of course it turned out completely differently than I had thought.
Finally I arrived in Phonsavan. Not in one, but in two days.
BLT – Bacon Lettuce Tomato
Bacon, lettuce and tomato. Bread and mayonnaise. That’s all.
I was introduced to this culinary experience here and now. The BLT sandwich is a classic, simple yet very effective combination. Its name is derived from its three main ingredients. It has become iconic especially in the USA, but it is so simple and universal that it works practically anywhere.
I ate my first BLT sandwich in Laos, and – not surprisingly – an American made it for me.
It looked so good that when the question arose whether to take it on the road or eat it here, the choice was not difficult. The sandwich breathed its soul out, building mine with it. It was a great experience. Despite its simple ingredients, it was an orgy of flavors for me. The familiar but long-experienced salty taste of bacon, the green freshness of lettuce, the sourness of tomatoes with the all-spice of mayonnaise: it was the perfect breakfast.
He made me one for the trip too.
This sandwich – wherever I meet it next – will have its own story for me.
What else can come after this? A Hungarian in India makes me a Gundel pancake? Right now, the only thing that comes to mind is pancakes, because I can’t think of a food I don’t know yet.
I started hitchhiking
I’ll tell you up front that it wasn’t a successful hitchhiking day.
I walked 370 meters from my accommodation when an air-conditioned Lexus stopped next to me and a Chinese guy picked me up. He said he was only going 15 km on my route, and I told him that every km counts when you’re a hitchhiker.
I jumped in and we were off. We talked using Google Translate. But I learned the Chinese phrase “thank you” from him. “Thank you very much” was enough for the day.
He told me that his boss doesn’t like strangers in his car, so I got out of the car 100 meters before his workplace and we said goodbye.
After walking another few hundred meters, he picked me up again. As it turned out, he had to go a few kilometers further. I got out again before the next stop. LOL.
From there I walked another 1.3 km, and then my hitchhiking career ended.
A man picked me up, and I routinely asked him if he was Chinese. Next time I’ll start by asking if he was Lao, because he wasn’t Chinese.
He didn’t speak a word of English, but – while there was internet – we exchanged a few thoughts over the phone.
We stopped at a place where I saw him giving medicine to a sick man. I asked him if he was a doctor. Yes, and he was in the army. He showed me his uniform, which was in the car, but I didn’t notice it. Just like the red cross on his chest, which only appeared then.
Since I was wearing the T-shirt I had received when I donated blood, I also showed him the symbol on my chest. He immediately grabbed my hand and – I saw the gratitude in his eyes – showed me that he still knew a few words of English: Thank you!
I think this is the greatest recognition I’ve received recently. I didn’t want it, but it was nice. This man knew exactly what blood donation meant and it didn’t take any words for us to develop a common language.
I was thinking about the chances of what just happened. A Lao doctor picking up a European hitchhiker and they could think in the same language. I don’t think it’s worth betting on. I just kept the experience to myself. I love this strange game of chance.
The man was so helpful that we stood on the side of the road for 5 minutes in one place so he could understand where I was going. I don’t really understand why Google Translate and Google Maps were there, so I wrote down where I was going and showed it on the map. Even though I was going to Phonsavan, he would have taken me to Vang Vieng (where I had just come from) and Vientiane (where I lived before Vang Vieng).
Finally, he dropped me off where a small flatbed bus was waiting for passengers, and even told the driver where I was going, who took it for granted that I would go with him.
I thought I was going with the flow, so I finally talked myself into going with this car for a while. We could have left because of me, but the old man told me to sit down and wait.
I sat down and waited. I think quite patiently, but after an hour I asked when we were leaving. About half an hour later, the answer came.
So I ended up sitting in the middle of an unknown small village for an hour and a half, waiting for the bus to leave with me to an unknown destination. But at least I had the opportunity to realize that hitchhiking would be an impossible mission on the road I had to take, because there were hardly any cars on it.
Bus and boat
Everything passes, with this slogan the wait is over. The bus left.
There were already other passengers waiting for the departure. Among them was a woman who was transporting chickens in cages made of small bamboo leaves and cardboard boxes.
So in the company of chickens and locals, I arrived half an hour later at the Nam Ngum reservoir (or lake), which is a huge, 370 km² “inland sea” in Laos. Just for comparison, Lake Balaton has an area of 592 km².
I saw on the map that my (original) route would take me there, but I didn’t expect that I would have to get on a boat here. Or something that looked like a boat. There were two on the shore of the lake that carried several people, but there was no information written anywhere. So I asked the driver which one I should get on. Trusting that he was right, I got on the boat.
80% of the passenger compartment was occupied by motorbikes. The rest was a few places to sit. There was just one free seat, so I sat down and waited for the departure. Of course, people got on at the last minute, including women, so I gave up my seat and sat on the floor with my back against a motorbike.
With this, I gained the trust of the locals again. One immediately offered me a piece of cake, and another pressed an orange into my hand. In vain, the principle of expecting a good deed in return always works here!
After about an hour and a half of boating, we docked on the other side of the lake. It looked exactly like where we had started from, for a few moments I wasn’t even sure we had made any progress at all.
So at that moment I was on the shore of a lake, surrounded by Laotian people who probably didn’t speak a word of English. And for some reason, I didn’t have internet. So I can say that I arrived in absolute silence. Somewhere I didn’t know, some distance from where I was heading.
With the calmness of the underdog, I sat on the platform of a small bus in the last seat. Next to the chickens, because the woman had loaded the animals onto the boat and onto this car. Since this was the only car, I had no choice. Let’s go – I said to myself – and then we’ll see where we end up.
We drove for a long time, through all kinds of settlements. The internet didn’t work for some reason, until I realized that I had to restart my phone to get it working again. So after a while, at least I saw that I was on the right track. At least for a while, because at one point we deviated from the direction that was right for me.
But I didn’t want to argue with fate, so we kept going. In a small village, everyone got off the bus except for two women. One of them was the woman with the chickens, who stayed. LOL. I stayed because… Why not? I’m sure I have nothing to do where almost everyone else got off.
So I trudged along for a few more hours, but I actually enjoyed the trip. At one point along the way it started to rain, luckily the car had a sidewall, which the driver kindly lowered.
Ban Mouang Cha
We finally arrived in Ban Mouang Cha.
I made a timid attempt to ask the driver if he was going any further. It didn’t work. I asked him how to get to Phonsavan. Then tomorrow by bus. He asked if I had any accommodation. Of course I didn’t, because until a few minutes ago I didn’t even know that this town existed.
It was a little worrying that the driver said goodbye to me with a “Good Luck” shout.
I quickly found accommodation. A real hotel, with cheap room rates. So I spent at least one night in a “regular” hotel room.
I didn’t get to know anything about the city, because after taking my room I had dinner at a nearby restaurant, then went to bed.
The next morning I woke up early. So early that even the reception wasn’t working. I needed help because the ticketing app didn’t know this town, so I had no idea how I was going to get there.
It seemed like a sure thing, it wasn’t going to be a hitchhiker.
When the door opened, I was offered coffee. That was nice. Then, with the help of a translator, I asked the young guy what time the bus to Phonsavan was. At 9:38. I’m always amazed at the impossible times for a bus to leave here. Why not 9:30?
I wrote this post for a bit, then I set off, thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to be at the bus terminal before 9:00. I’d rather wait there than have trouble.
I got there at 8:56. I bought my ticket, got on the bus, and it left successfully at 9:00. I should add that it was the only bus that day. It’s a good thing I didn’t get here at 9:20. Yes, in Asia it’s good to get there much earlier than you should, otherwise you might not get a flight that day.
The bus had everything that would make a Westerner accustomed to comfort feel like a horror movie in an instant.
First of all, the seats were about 10 centimeters narrower than I’m used to. The guy sitting next to me took up about 10% of my narrow seat, simply because he was a wide kid. So I had 90% of my own space during the entire trip.
Then there was the seat next to me on the other side. There was a mother sitting there with her toddler on her lap. Who – unintentionally – kicked my leg or arm every now and then. When this mother got off, another one came in her place, also with a small child in her arms.
There was another child on the bus, who was howling like a jackal when I got on. Finally, taking advantage of every square inch of the already cramped bus, they put a plastic chair in front of my seat, someone was sitting on it too, and there was a cardboard box under it, so I couldn’t even stretch out my right leg.
As we set off, I thought that I didn’t have a problem with these conditions anyway. If I did, I should have thought that I would definitely have worse trips than this. For example, in India.
130 km. If I had any problems with the bus, I should have only thought that 130 km would pass by in a flash.
And so it did. I jostled around on this bus for a solid seven hours and we arrived in Phonsavan. If I consider that the trip from Vang Vieng would have taken 8 hours, then you can already see what a success story my 2-day hitchhiking adventure was.
The bus stopped once during the seven-hour trip for a pee break. It was so long that I almost didn’t finish watering the jungle plants and we moved on.
The kilometers wore off very slowly. Here in Asia, it’s completely normal for Google Maps to say 37 km, 1.5 hours.
We were on roads like this again… If I didn’t call them roads, I would be closer to the truth. Potholed bitumen, gravel, dirt with rocks. If there is 20 meters of bitumen, it’s only good for the car to slow down when driving up on it (so it doesn’t tear) and slow down when driving down on it (so it doesn’t tear).
Even if there was a section that could be called a good quality road, the car didn’t go more than approx. 20 km/h. The car was in such a state anyway that – to be honest – I can’t imagine how it could do this trip on a daily basis. Sometimes I thought we wouldn’t even be able to climb a hill.
In the end, we just arrived in Phonsavan.
Phonsavan
The arrival was wonderful!
At the bus terminal I checked how far the supposed city center was based on Google Maps. My estimate was 2-3 km.
So I set off on foot.
Let’s say I started my usual introduction to the city. I can almost hear the crowd roaring that this is not an introduction, but a form of asceticism per se, a form of self-torture that I have developed. There may be some truth to this, but I will consistently deny it. LOL.
I just wanted to walk until I found a nice restaurant near the city center, so that I could then decide on my accommodation there. I assumed that I would find one nearby.
Luckily, I arrived at a place that looked good, which soon turned out to not only look good, but also be. In Laos, when I order soup, it is brought out in a small bowl. So there is never a problem with the quantity. In addition, they also bring a portion of salad, which I have really grown to like to eat with the soup over the past few months.
My only problem is with tofu, next time I will have to tell you not to force it. I wrote once that I had no problem with tofu in Hungary. Here in Asia, however, I really don’t like it. Its color, texture and smell are like raw pork liver. I eat it, at least I always have, but now I have scooped it to the edge of the plate.
This is asceticism, which I will not undertake now either!
On the way to my accommodation
I finished the huge portion of soup, booked my accommodation 4 km away and was about to leave when the sky fell. Not gently. It started to rain very heavily.
So – yes, with all my belongings in my two backpacks – I didn’t want to take on this kind of self-torture now. I thought, I’ll call a tuktuk or a taxi.
I took my inDrive application, which I had already used once, entered where I was going and pressed the continue button.
I had never experienced anything like this before, but the application proceeded in such a way that I had to make an offer to unknown drivers, how much I wanted to pay for this ride. Then someone would take the trip.
I already know the prices here, I knew that 100,000 LAK was a good price for a 4 km trip, so I made my offer. Then I just watched as the one-minute countdown timer neatly sent itself to zero and no one showed up.
I hadn’t felt like ordering a taxi had been successful so far. I waited the one-minute time limit again, and then I became a little confused. Luckily, the app said that other people usually offered 130,000 for this trip. The unfortunate overpriced tourists. So I made a new offer of 150,000 LAK, because I really wanted to get to the hotel.
No one showed up for that either. Looking at the app, I had to realize that I was probably the only one in the area, or in the whole city, using this app. But drivers certainly weren’t, so InDrive was now a dead end.
I thought I’d flag down a tuk-tuk while standing under the restaurant’s half-roof. There were always so many of them, they always wanted to take me, so let’s see.
Within 15 minutes I saw that when I needed them, they really weren’t there. Or maybe karma had told me that after all the rejections I had given to the poor drivers, no one would help me now.
About 5 tuk-tuks passed in front of me on the road in the fifteen minutes, but no matter how much I waved to them, they didn’t even turn their heads towards me.
After fifteen minutes, the rain was only just beginning to fall, so I started walking. 4 km and I was there. After three minutes, it turned out that the rain was just playing a trick on me. The falling rain was a trap! It started to rain again, so no matter how much I tried to avoid it, I was soaked to the skin in a minute.
There was also 5 cm of water on the road and sidewalk, so along with getting soaked to the skin, I immediately had to wash my feet.
I found an ATM 600 meters from the restaurant. I also needed cash, so I stopped here. I had prepared my card in my pocket beforehand, hoping that I would just stop the driver to get some cash on the way while riding a tuktuk. I didn’t want to waste time taking out my wallet.
So I took out my card and was shocked to find that I couldn’t even insert it into the ATM. I was starting to feel a little like this wasn’t my day. Of course, I knew it was mine, but now it was literally not the sunny side of life.
Giving up the fight, I just waited for something to come along that I could wave down. After a few minutes, someone came along who just said he was going the other way and drove off.
Giving up is not my style, so after a while I continued on. In the rain. After a few hundred meters, I saw another ATM. Under cover. I went over there and got my bank card.
That is, I would have gotten it. But it turned out that I had lost it. So I was forced to go back to the previous ATM, suspecting and trusting that it was there. It was there. When I showed the tuktuk driver going the other way, taking out my phone, I pulled the bank card out of my pocket.
Luckily, it was there in the middle of a small puddle on the road. I lovingly hugged the bank card that I had already abandoned and had in Bali once and decided that I would never put it in my pocket again.
Continuing the ordeal, I went to the second ATM again. In which I was able to insert my card. And I immediately received the answer that my card had been temporarily suspended. I thought that the ATM does not like cards that have been bathed in a puddle.
In fact, I only wiped it on my t-shirt after I rescued it from the water. So this time I wiped it thoroughly with paper. The temporary ban was lifted, and I was finally able to withdraw money.
I mean, I would have, but there was no money in the ATM.
During the enjoyable minutes I spent hunting for cash in the rain, it started to get dark. And it was still raining so hard that I couldn’t walk. I stopped under a small tent and decided to sleep there if nothing came to take me.
I waited patiently.
Then suddenly two tuktuks stopped. On the other side of the road. Only 5-6 meters from me, but that was quite a distance.
Taking the risk, I went up to one and told him where I was going. This took about 20 seconds, during which time I was already soaked. The driver, sitting comfortably and dryly under the hood, listened to my wishes, and then showed me that the other driver would be my man.
I explained to him in the same amount of time where I was going to go to grief. So I was soaked to the bone. This driver was willing to take the trip. Yay. For the sake of formality, I asked how much the trip would cost, knowing that I would accept whatever he said.
It was a bit funny that he asked for 100,000 LAK.
He politely asked if he could turn around to get me and my stuff on the other side of the road. I gave him a thumbs up to show him that I appreciated the idea.
Finally, we set off!
Continuing his courtesy, the driver attempted to pull a small tarpaulin over the front wall of the open tuktuk, all while driving. I laughed and told him that it was OK as it is. Don’t bother with water protection, it’s completely irrelevant to me.
When we were leaving, I showed him in writing that there should be an ATM, but he didn’t understand. I think the word ATM was the key word in this.
On the way, I saw one and waved the driver down. 3 steps there and 3 back, so there wasn’t a molecule in my body that wasn’t wet on the outside as well.
But finally I arrived at the accommodation, which I was able to pay for.
I took my room, which was comfortable, quiet and had a table and chair, as I had requested. The table is a piece of furniture built into a cabinet, so I’m not sure if it was brought here for my own use or if it was already here. It doesn’t matter. It’s there and ready.
It’s true that it’s about 10 cm higher than a normal table. So I have to raise my arms up to my elbows. However, where there’s a need, there’s help! After 8+ months of sitting on uncomfortable chairs, the bone in my backside is constantly aching. So now I put one of my pillows on the chair. This made the chair a little softer and the height of the table was also good.
All’s well that ends well!
It wasn’t an easy journey to get here, but here I am.
And I started my life here the way it should be after a journey that was soaked to the skin.
I took a hot shower and was reborn.
Here I am in Phonsavan, after the rainy fiasco I’m curious to see what you’re really like!
Buy me a coffee?
If you enjoyed this story, you can buy me a coffee. You don’t have to – but it means a lot and I always turn it into a new adventure.
Buy a coffee for Steve
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Short introduction