Mostly a travel day save for the wonderful character ("straight out of central casting" my parents would say) we'd meet at the end of it. Unlike our previous bus rides, the length of this one was largely due to the many stops at small towns across north-eastern Thailand. Unfortunately this was the one bus per day that would take us to Chiang Khong, and the stops did afford us ample opportunity to see a different side of Thailand (within a 5 minute walk of the bus station) and sample its snacks (mostly from 7-11's). After almost mistakenly transferring to a bus that would've taken us over the border to Lao PDR, we were some of the only people to hop off in the small town of Chiang Khong, pop. 4342. After a double-google-translate conversation with a tuktuk driver (us both typing or speaking into our phones to pass the message along) we had a ride the last 3 miles to our hotel for the evening. 

Our hosts, a lovely couple, provided us with the requisite forms for the border crossing the following day, a quick dinner, and hurried off to pack for their own vacation, leaving the following day! While working on our postcards (want a card, email us your address!), an American expat we’d come to learn was in his early 70’s approached us and asked us if we were going to Lao the following day. He had intended to ride his bike across the border at some point in the future, and was curious if we had insight. Unfortunately, we had no advice to impart there, crossing via bus arranged by the company we booked our boat down the Mekong with, but we were fortunate that Brian took the opportunity to chat with us. 

A lifelong traveler with stories to share including traveling in Southeast asia and the middle east in the 70’s, working as an illegal immigrant in Australia and getting his tax return mailed to his parents in the US, and, unprompted by us in any way, sharing that his nieces and nephews always ask him if he was in the CIA back then, we were delighted to listen to his stories. His current adventure: solo biking a large loop around northern thailand before returning to his home in Chiang Mai. We envied the image he shared of “the good ol’ days” of traveling, when you couldn’t rely on any internet based suggestions and instead traded well-worn guidebooks with fellow travelers. 

This is actually the morning view from the door to our room the following day. These misty mountains were only the beginning of what we would see in Laos! 

After a homemade breakfast by our host, he drove us to the border crossing. Our first land border crossing! After leaving Thailand (but before entering Lao PDR, so I guess we were just on the line?) we filed into a bus for a 3 minute ride across the Mekong River just to hop out again at the Lao PDR entrance. (Despite what most maps say, it hasn't actually been Laos since 1975). Our entry cost 40 baht for "processing" (still unsure if that was graft, sanctioned or otherwise), and 40 dollars for the visa (much more official, only near-mint condition bills were accepted!). We split into smaller vans and were brought to the pier to transfer to our slowboat. With half of our ~18 hour transit down the Mekong scheduled for the day we settled in for a day of watching the world go by and reading. 

Our one stop before stopping for the night at Pak Beng was at a small village. This visit disturbed me greatly, and I am not sure I have completely come to terms with it. As such I will attempt to convey salient aspects of the visit that made it feel...voyeuristic. Immediately, as we walked up the staircase that was effectively main street, it was clear that our presence was, at best, tolerated. There were no smiles, no waving, and all heads turned to watch was we huffed and puffed our way up from the river. As I write this, I worry that some may misread this as a portrayal of the villagers in a negatively light and I want to get ahead of that immediately. It felt obvious to me that the villagers didn't want us there, but the financial realities of being a stop on the many slowboats' voyages down the river outweighed the downsides to allow this poverty tourism. The children, blissfully unaware of the complicated overtones of our visit, rushed around as some of the children from the boat handed out candies; until our guide reprimanded some of them for coming back and getting too many of them. Some children posed and did tricks, waiting expectantly for someone on the tour to take a picture of them. Several obliged. And if I may get on my sanctimonious horse for a second, not a single one of those that took pictures put any money in the donation box for the local school. 

That evening, we arrived at the small town of Pak Beng, it builds straight up the river bank, and its largest industry is clearly tourism. Even more specific: it appears to be very much tied in as the stop for many different slowboat companies to stop at. The short ride to our hostel put us >100 feet above the river, and the views at sunset while we ate dinner were stunning. Our shower didn’t drain at all though? And it was one of those bathrooms with a drain in the corner and just one continuous tile floor. So there was like an inch of water on the entire bathroom floor. Super cheap though. 

View of the river valley over rooftops of a riverside village.