Laos of fun

This was long overdue but finally I found time to write about our time in Laos, right after we left Cambodia.
Day 5: 26 December Martedi. In comparison to its neighbours Thailand and Cambodia, Laos seemed to strike a good balance in preserving its cultural soul and quality living. What impressed us the most are its people who possess a strong sense of gentle pride and an almost bewildering trusting honesty.

We survived the 3-hour journey (including a stopover at Pakse) on Laos Air (US$130) from Siem Reap to the Laotian capital Vientiane, and hopped onto a taxi (US$6) to Dragon Lodge inn (US$20/night) located in the heart of the town. I didn't harbour much expectations - except that it was supposed to be very laidback. Laidback is good. After the crowded itinerary of Angkorian temples and vigorous sightseeing, I could do with some chilling out.

Vientiane was groggy and lazy in the afternoon heat and the town was asleep, save for a corner coffeeshop aptly named "Blue Sky' where we propped our feet up for lunch. I naturally zoomed in on the Set Lunch (48,000kip/ US$4) promising Laotian Lap sausage served with a piquant minced chicken mint herb salad, boiled vegetables, tomato salsa and the perennial basket of sticky rice. Ooh. It was so good and a tasty start to Laos. A just stared at his dry insipid sandwich (20,000kip) which he left mostly untouched. What a shame... We strolled 3 hours away exploring the riverside lanes which ran in uniformed grids. Low-levelled shops, cosy bars and restaurants were interpersed with the gleaming tall wats (temples) and quasi-completed hotel constructions. Its landscape would probably change a lot within the next 2 years as urban development caught on like an unstoppable disease.

The town was pretty compact so we didn't really need the hand-drawn map given to us by our chatty Sporean inn-owner, Peter who has lived here for a decade. At one of the many intersections, we came across a charming makeshift street gallery run by this young lady artist who was clutching to her year-old baby girl. Her paintings of monks, hip-swaying Viet ladies and local scenery were simply pegged to strings like laundry dancing in the warm breeze. We bought 2 artworks to support her artistic living and I gestured if I could take a picture of them. Most Laotians couldn't speak English but they were patient and friendly so language was no barrier. I found that everywhere I go, a sincere smile and sense of humour go a long way.

At 5plus, the pace was so languid that we were dragging our feet at every turn so we popped by Joma Bakery Cafe for some really power-packed iced caffe and trodded back to the mosquitoes-infested riverside for a Mekong sunset. The temperature nose-dipped and I zipped up my addidas jacket, walking down the evening food street in Chinatown that had awaken from its day slumber. Ah, you couldn't miss Nem Neung Vieng Savanh on Thanon Heng Boun, even if you were lost. The eatery was bustling with activity as hungry customers filed in for an early dinner or queued up for a quick takeaway. This was Laos fast food at its best.

The small army of young girls was trying to keep up with the frentic orders for its star specialty - Viet grilled pork balls wrapped in rice paper - and assembling plates piled with fresh lettuce, parsley, mint, rice noodles and stiff rice paper sheets. The bouncy delicious pork balls were served alongside another side-dish of chopped condiments such as raw garlic, lemongrass, ginger, bloody hot green chillies, bean sprouts, starfruit, cucumber and young green banana. I counted 14 ingredients and 2 sauces alone (1 peanuty and 1 spicy-garlicky) - all these for 1 dish at this no-frills shop.

A and I stared at each other, clueless about how to start. The demure waitress sized us up quickly as foreigners and demonstrated how to assemble our first wrap by dipping the stiff rice sheet in our fish & egg hotpot (yes we were that greedy) to soften it and piled it with the rest. When I popped the small bugger into my mouth, there was an explosion of flavours which left me speechless. Ooh I rolled my 2nd one before swallowing the 1st. I reckoned we had easily 6 rolls each. Buonissmo. We were so full we didn't have room for the many mobile street food stalls hawking deepfried golden fritters and porridge to steaming fresh soya milk and pickled snacks.

Satiated, we were desperate for a massage and hunted an-hour rub-down for 40,000kip at a nearby joint called "Traditional Massage". Ha, there's no mistaking it for anything else. I didn't have any high hopes after the disappointing Cambodian experience. But surprise surprise, the traditional Laotian massage was very enjoyable as the shy pretty girls pressed and kneaded us gently with every measured stroke... ahh shiokest. Burrrrp. Tired, we were looking forward to bed however the inn's bedroom walls were as thin as our rice paper, so we didn't get many winks due to an incessant argument outside. And when dawn broke, the carpenter next door started on his drilling. Wah laos eh... F*%@#!