Arriving with time to spare
I always know I’ve arrived somewhere special when I turn into a kid in a sweet shop — wanting to photograph everything, eat in every café, try every street snack, poke my head into every guesthouse, and buy every tacky souvenir before it all magically disappears overnight. That’s exactly how I felt on our first wander around Luang Prabang.
It’s four hours by minivan from Vang Vieng — or, in our case, much less. Our driver must’ve been late for dinner because he absolutely bombed it around the mountain roads, potholes and missing road sections be damned. We arrived several hours early and, miraculously, alive.
Luang Prabang: A UNESCO Dream
Luang Prabang is one of Southeast Asia’s gems. Set on a peninsula where the Nam Khan meets the Mekong, it’s all palm‑lined riverbanks, golden temples, and French colonial charm. It’s the kind of place you explore by foot or bike, stopping every ten metres for a photo or a pastry.
Bars and cafés cling to the Mekong’s edge — perfect for sunsets or watching daily Lao life drift by on the river.
Kuang Si Falls & The Scooter of Doom
We hired a scooter and headed 30 km out to Kuang Si Waterfall. About 10 km in, just after crossing a rickety bridge, the scooter started making a horrendous noise. Mechanics and I do not mix. When my car makes a noise, I usually just turn the stereo up. Sadly, scooters don’t come with stereos.
With no better plan, we pushed on, rattling through villages like a mobile scrap heap. Locals found it hilarious.
Kuang Si, however, was spectacular — far more impressive than my “just another waterfall” expectations. Cascading turquoise pools, a 50‑metre main fall, and hardly anyone around. The fish in the pools were very enthusiastic about nibbling our toes, which was… refreshing.
We also visited the bear rescue centre, home to 23 bears saved from poachers. Watching them munch bananas was a lot more uplifting than listening to our scooter die a slow death.
Back in town, the scooter owner assured us the noise was “just the relay box”. He could’ve said “shdnrhfhhrbeijdbbydufjhchhdhdu” and I’d have nodded the same way.
Cycling Across the Mekong
A five‑minute ferry ride across the Mekong took us to a completely different world. We hired bikes and set off — though not before Anya crashed pulling out of the workshop as the owner waved us off. “Don’t worry, we’ll look after your bikes!” CRASH. Great start.
We cycled dirt roads through tiny villages of wooden shacks, kids playing in the dust, farmers working the fields. Hard work, but a brilliant glimpse of rural Lao life.
Boun Lay Hua Fai: Lanterns, Candles & Party Spirit
We were lucky to be in town for Boun Lay Hua Fai, marking the end of Buddhist Lent. At night, candlelit processions wound through the streets, carrying banana‑leaf boats filled with incense and flowers to float on the Mekong.
Temples glowed with lanterns, monks joined the celebrations, and lanterns drifted into the sky like glowing constellations.
It was magical. We, being the wild party animals we are, were in bed by 10pm — but the city partied on.
Nong Khiaw: Minibus Mayhem & UXO Surprises
Nong Khiaw is three hours north of Luang Prabang — or five, if you include two hours of arguing at the bus station about how many humans can safely be crammed into a minivan. (Answer: far more than is safe.)
Our journey was eventful. The driver’s pothole‑dodging (or pothole‑hitting) broke the van axle — or some metal thing underneath that definitely shouldn’t fall off. He fixed it with rope and sticky tape. Blue Peter would’ve been proud.
We took the chance for a toilet break. Laos is full of warnings about UXO — unexploded bombs left over from the Vietnam War. Anya wandered into the bushes and returned having stepped on a different kind of UXO: a human poo. Between the toes. Her sandal spent the rest of the journey quarantined at the back of the van.
Nong Khiaw & Muang Ngoi: River Life at Its Slowest
Nong Khiaw is a sleepy village split by the Nam Ou River. Even on the tourist trail, it feels wonderfully laid‑back. We mostly chilled but did manage a day trip.
We kayaked upriver to Muang Ngoi, a tiny village only accessible by boat. It’s charming — two dusty streets, dramatic limestone cliffs — though it now has more cafés and guesthouses than you’d expect for a place with no roads.
On the way back, we hit rapids. We asked our guide for advice. His English was limited, and all we got was: “Stay close to me. Follow me.” Easier said than done, but somehow, we survived.
By the time we got back, we were shattered.
Goodbye Laos, Hello Cambodia
Our time in Laos has come to an end. We fly out of Luang Prabang today.
With an arrival date in New Zealand now set, it feels like we’re on the home straight of our Asia journey — but with several weeks left, Cambodia awaits with new adventures.
