90 years ago - at a time when Richard Katz embarked for his first journey around the world - people on the go must have seen themselves as travelers, rather than tourists. Katz also tells us in his introduction to his book originating from that journey, he traveled open minded without certain expectations (ohne Gesichtspunkt) to be receptive for the new and unknown, in exchange for better understanding. That makes me thinking it seems less to be an issue of surprise. However, during my tourist-like
lazy days in a hammok in front of my bamboo hut up north, I took time to pre-travel
a bit through my used Southeast Asia Guidebook, edited in 2005, for my days
after departing Luang Prabang down south. "Buses heading to Vientiane and
Vang Vieng and points south along Route 13 use the Southern Bus Station"
reads the text in the info box "Moving on from Luang Prabang". Adding
the available information of "226 km/6 hours by mini bus"on all pinboards
of the countless so-called travel and booking agencies, I saw myself as any
other tourist already heading "from A to B".
My reaction next day was that
of surprise. Not because my local VIP bus offered me a seat direct behind the
panorama windscreen just above the busy manouvering driver, but mostly because
of the dimension of a roadtrip that did not receive further acknowledgement by
the editors, steep up and down in sharp turns left and right along the edge of
endless hills. Remote hill tribe villages high up in the mist of grey clouds
pushed by the Monsoon winds suddenly show up straight after sharp U-turns, with
traditional houses lined up like beads on a neckless at the abyss along the
road. And though I felt impressed by the views of the majestic jungle along the
Mekong river, the angles from crossing and driving along the grade of lush
green karst mountains just offer amazing views, somewhere between a grey blanket
in the sky and deep jungle below.
Seven hours later I had again
safe ground under my feet. Vang Vieng, an upcoming adventure holiday resort, is
settled along the river that carries groups of young people on tractor tubes
from bar to bar, till they end up chanting late night in a village that
otherwise is only populated by some dogs in search for garbadge bins. But
probably I wasn't in such a good mood as the continuous rain gave me only two
options: soaking along the "sportive" tourists down the river, or get
stucked for hours each day in my room with a TV out of order. I hit the road
again. Next stop: Vientiane, a village infiltrated by growing suburbs, which
somehow became capital (leaving Luang Prabang the award as World Heritage
Site).
Back on the Mekong river, and
looking over the shoulders of the nation's protector in bronze I almost can
step into Thailand on the opposite river bench. And while North Korea unfortunately
gets these days the worse of the Monsoon rains, I got my sunshine back. Within
a day I walked the old "French Quartier" from east to west and north
to south, rounding several times the landmark of downtown Vientiane, a kind of
plaza with a fountain, that is only rivaled by an even more strange immitation
of the Champs Elysėes and Arc de Triomphe.
Not to be misunderstood, there are
some charming streets with small shops, restaurants and guesthouses, but as my
travelguide informs, two days are enough to explore the place. I agree, as it
gives me more time to go further south, hopefully exploring the second world
heritage site in Laos: Wat Phou, the most evocative Khmer ruin outside
Cambodian borders.
Links zu foto galeries of this blogpost:
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