254. | Vientian

Eight nights in the capital of Laos.

I’ve been told by many that two days is enough. Which is true if you’re a tourist. But I came here to live, not to visit.

As I write this post, I still have three nights left here, but I can already say that I have unforgettable experiences in this city.

My first train trip in Asia

With the words “Hit the Road Steve” in my heart, I set off on the train.

I waited patiently for 15 minutes for my free ride that I had received when I bought my ticket, then I asked when the car would arrive. The answer was, in keeping with local custom, rather terse and less informative: the driver was already on his way.

On the bus, I met a German guy who showed me that I was not the only one experiencing uncertain moments. After I told him that I was going to Vientiane, he was a little confused because he was going to Vietnam. He was unsure if he was even on the right bus. The bus stopped while the question was clarified. It was not an easy task, because the guy spoke very little English and the driver none at all.

Luckily, he was also on the right bus.

The train line runs behind a huge building. But to see this, I had to go through three inspections and a near-heart attack.

To understand the situation, you need to know that the roads in Laos are in very bad condition. The railway is supposed to help with this. There are two problems with this. The direction and number of railway lines are not as many as they should be. The other “problem” is that China owns most of the railways. If I remember correctly, 70%-30%. So here I really felt what China must be like as an outsider.

So in retrospect, it became a little clearer to me why you need a passport to buy a train ticket.

You can only enter the building if you show your valid ticket. There are several officials sitting behind desks at the main entrance, so without a ticket it is impossible to get into the waiting room. When we arrived, we stood in a very long line to get through this first checkpoint.

From there, we could go straight to the scanners we already knew from the airport. Every piece of luggage was scanned by a machine, and I was also drawn around by a body scanner.

I threw my two backpacks into the 1-meter-long plane, waved my arms while they searched me for the bomb, and then immediately went to the other side of the plane. I only spent a few seconds without my two backpacks, but it ended in an almost eternal goodbye, or a sudden death from cardiac arrest.

I picked up my large backpacks and… I didn’t see a trace of the small ones (laptop, wallet, bank cards, passport, etc.). I immediately looked around to see who had them in their hands or who had them on their backs. I didn’t see anyone leaving the scene either quickly or slowly. The bags were constantly coming out of the plane, but mine was nowhere to be found.

It was incomprehensible where the bag was, and my usual calmness vanished in a matter of seconds, because I felt like I was annihilated. I didn’t really have to explain to myself what I was going to do without money or tools. I thought about writing an article called “How to survive in Asia with a cell phone?” and then sailing to the moon on the Mekong.

I immediately turned to the three clerks behind the scanner, but they were very busy. Two of them were picking apart the luggage of two Belgian guys I met yesterday at La Cantina, because the boys didn’t know that you can’t bring weapons on the train and each had a pocket knife.

The third clerk finally noticed me after my urgent “Hello, Hi, Sabajdi” SOS signal. I didn’t overdo it, I immediately asked him where my backpack was. He looked inside the plane, then gestured that it was there. His face seemed to say, “Don’t worry, brother, everything is fine.”

I was glad that no one had stolen most of my belongings and I didn’t want to think about why mine was stuck in the plane. I was glad that I could hug it.

It was a really bad feeling to live through that one minute without knowing what had happened. I felt sure that I would be able to solve the situation that would await me without a bag. But at the same time, I felt that my life was adventurous enough without such bonuses being thrown at me by a scanner.

I wanted to eat. Well, the place was a big disappointment in that respect. You could buy food at 3 or 4 buffets, but there was nothing that I have been eating for months. Let’s say rice, vegetables, fruit. All fast and pre-packaged junk food.

So, judging it as the best option, I ate two hotdogs without wanting to eat hotdogs at all. I don’t know what happened before my eyes, because it took 10 minutes for me to get the two magnificent pieces. I was being ironic by the way.

In Asia, they like to screw everything up to the extreme. I’ve already mentioned that the air conditioning is always on a level between Antarctica and a freezer. The food, on the other hand, is always heated to a temperature that would melt the One Ring. Frodo shouldn’t have gone to Mordor, he should have just asked for food here.

After the shock of the burns on my hands wore off, I had no choice but to wait my turn. Literally. Because the doors to the platform are closed. They only open the chain-locked gates before the train leaves. And, to be on the safe side, they check the tickets one more time. Until then, we can wait in line.

Having survived the cardiac arrest, the dragon’s breath, and the endless queue, I was finally able to board the train.

The train is called a high-speed train, from which I concluded that I would now have the Japanese or Chinese supersonic train experience. I was wrong. This train was a completely ordinary high-speed train, one that I had traveled on countless times at home in my life.

Honestly, looking out the window sometimes the landscape seemed no different than during a trip to Hungary.

However, I didn’t look outside much, because the late morning bed left an impression on my day. I slept half the way. Even then, I only woke up because the passenger sitting next to me wanted to get off at the first and penultimate station (Van Vieng).

As the train started, I started thinking about what to do. Should I read or listen to music.

That’s when I heard a voice calling my name from behind me.

The Hells Angels are back together

Six days after we said goodbye, the road brought 80% of the motorcycle team back together. Three young people from Van Vieng traveled to Vientiane on this very train.

We couldn’t even speak because of the surprise, we simply hugged each other.

Then, of course, we went into the city together. And we looked for accommodation together. We continued another story where the previous one ended.

The city here – like in Luang Prabang – is about 30 minutes by tuk-tuk from the train station.

The first experience of the city was the terrible heat. We are about 350 km further south in the country and about 10 degrees Celsius higher on the thermometer. The fat on our bodies started to melt on the tuk-tuk ride. And it didn’t change in the following days.

Accommodation is a new dimension of my trip. I settled into an 8-bed dormitory, where I stayed after the guys said goodbye again a few days later.

Let’s say they went to Vietnam, where I’m going in early May, so maybe we’ll run into each other there.

It was good to be together again, and we talked about the word coincidence for hours.

The city

The AI ​​also mentioned 2-4 attractions in the city. One of them was almost next to our accommodation.

I didn’t have to walk very far for the others either.

The first attraction was a triumphal arch-like structure, something I had seen in Paris before. The similarity is no coincidence, it was a huge building in the middle of the city based on the plans of a French designer. The international cooperation in the case of the attraction is also shown by the fact that it was made of American concrete. It is true that the Americans had donated the concrete to make it an airstrip, but their places had other ideas.

Our first visit was in the evening with the guys. I got there during the day the next day and was therefore able to go up to the top. The city is beautiful from up there. In the evening lights and sunlight, this impressive building shows a completely different form. Its walls sparkle, but only to an extent that is not an exaggeration. The statues and paintings are very beautiful and not ostentatious. The stairs make climbing the tower exciting enough. I could see a historical exhibition inside and enjoy a bird’s eye view from the outside.

The day after my arrival, the vote took place in Hungary. After walking a few kilometers, I cast my vote on the 8th floor of a tall building.

Then I visited the national symbol of the Lao people, a huge solid gold stupa. A monumental building, enclosed by a wall. Walking around the huge golden block was a good opportunity for a little reflection. The walls are decorated with statues, antiques, and finds from excavations on the inside. I have never seen a museum of this kind in Asia, so I welcomed this experience with joy.

It was a pleasant morning.

For these two experiences, I had to walk a total of 13 km in the morning, and I was not the only one who was hot.

This is where I first experienced that my phone automatically switches the map to night mode to cool down a bit. This is a great idea from the developers, because it reduces the visibility of the phone to zero in sunlight. By the way, you can’t see better in the shade either. If you were thinking of taking pictures, forget it. When you turn on the camera, a simple inscription appears on the screen that you need to wait until the screen cools down a bit, and then the camera turns off.

I wonder what this phone will do in Antarctica…

I also took an 11-kilometer walk in the city on Monday. This also seemed more because of the heat. But the roughly 30-kilometer walk proved that there really is not much to see.

The city is somewhere between Győr and Budapest in terms of size and scale. For those who are not familiar with these Hungarian cities, I can briefly say that I am not talking about a metropolis.

A very two-faced city. For the first time in months, I see very expensive cars. And of course scooters. In addition to luxury and pomp, poverty also fits in perfectly. Light and shade.

My accommodation has a pool. I have not been in it yet, and I think I will miss this experience. Basically, the accommodation is a hippie farm. The residents spend their everyday lives drinking beer and growing weed.

In the morning, I eat my breakfast included in the room price (scrambled eggs and toast, because there is not much choice), then I go somewhere with air conditioning. First, I worked at a cafe 50 meters from the accommodation, and the next few days, I worked at a Starbucks a little further away. As I write this, I am currently in my 8th hour at my temporary workplace. Fabulous coffee accompanied by poems and today a slice of carrot cake.

I go to the local market for dinner.

This city is full of experiences, I love living here. Whether it is hot, poor or rich, it is nice to walk around, breathe and live the moments.

Happy Lao New Year! Pi Mai Lao!