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December 08, 2005
Laos Bound
0700 Sunday morning Levi and I met at my hotel (the Tin Tin on Hang Non) and headed towards a major avenue, Phu Hang Gai, where we hopped into a westbound taxi to the bus station. Within a few minutes Levi realized that the meter was running very fast—the fare was roughly double what it should have been. We demanded that he pull over, we paid him an extortionate amount (37,000 Dong) and hailed another taxi. It seems our original thieving taxi driver was taking us on the scenic route because the new driver quickly turned around and headed south. Twenty minutes and 85,000 VND later we are dropped off just across from the Son La bus station.
As soon as we set foot into the bus yard we were quickly mobbed by aggressive touts. Lots of pulling on our arms, grabbing our maps, etc. Very irritating. Levi and I walked around checking out each individual bus destinations, weighed our options, and settled on a 20,000 Dong bus ride to Hoa Binh (the provincial capital of the same name that means ‘Peace’.) Three-ish hours and 64km later down Route 6 we arrived. On the journey Levi befriended a Vietnamese woman named Ha Thi Toan with help from his Lonely Plant Vietnamese Phrase book. She was going to Mai Chau, which was our next goal. 
We three waited 45 minutes being the object of amusement from some local children on Hoa Binh’s high street before boarding an old, rickety bus that climbed up a mountain pass that left us all a bit chilled. Levi kindly loaned his Pakistani-procured blanket for our new friend and her neighbor to share. This really paid off when we arrived in Mai Chau and the driver tried to extort an additional 30,000 Dong each from the two of us. Our new friend defended us and the driver sulked away without too much hassle. 
Mai Chau is stunning little rural town (~50,000 people) spread out at the bottom of a huge valley with steep slopes. If we did not have such a strong desire to get into Laos ASAP I would have liked to spend a day there. But we were trying to make the Na Meo border crossing that night. 
It took two hours of researching and negotiating with various motor bike drivers and a taxi driver to arrange passage with a young man named Duy and some older guy who did not like to talk. A bus did not seem like an option then but we now know better. Whatever. The US$35 fare for the both of us to Quan Son via Quah Hoa was a spectacular journey with the first 60km along route 15 to Quah Hoa the most impressive. We stopped occasionally to take pictures along bridges and let the smoker’s get their fix. Repeatedly while flying by houses, villages, schools, and sports fields the children would stop what they were doing and shout ‘Hello!’ and wave to us. It was like being some sort of celebrity. 
Duy, my driver, insisted that I respond in Vietnamese with ‘Xin Chao’. At one break point a group of young boys and single Vietnamese man gathered near to check us out. We took a few photos of them and showed them their pictures. This is always a great icebreaker with children. When we were ready to go Levi politely shook the man’s hand and I quickly followed his lead.
About an hour outside of Quah Hoa on the ~60km stretch to Quan Son via Route 15 and 217, dusk turned to night making the ride very unpleasant. The road was more difficult to navigate. Duy’s motor bike’s headlamps only had a high beam—every time we approached an oncoming vehicle he would turn off his headlight and only briefly turn it on to see where we were going. It was cold. 
My back was starting to hurt. The mosquitoes and other airborne insects were striking my face with a not quite painful impact every second or two. Because I’d not shaven in a few days (my razor stayed behind in Ha Giang) the bugs were sticking in my beard.
Our arrival in Quan Son was also disagreeable: our drivers dropped us off at a guest house that tried to extort US$8 each for a dirty little room with a single bed and no bathroom. It was clear Duy was expecting a commission out of this. Not cool. 
Levi took off on foot in search of another guesthouse and left me to guard the bags. Thirty minutes later he came back successfully with two guys on motor bikes. We paid our original drivers and set off for the fairly priced (US$4 each) Nha Khach Hotel. It turns out our room’s faucet would only produce a trickle of water and our beds are local style—no mattress, just a thatch mat on wooden planks. But that’s OK, we are happy.
I should note at this point that our itinerary is very much off the beaten path. The 2005 Lonely Planet Vietnam does not cover this area in enough detail to make the journey. In fact, Na Meo is not even listed as a border crossing, town or being serviced by any roads. (Na Meo is listed in the 2005 Laos edition.) We saw only two foreigners during the trip going the other direction. Thankfully, I had bought a map of northern Vietnam from a vendor in Hanoi for 20,000 Dong. It was paramount in out negotiating the westbound path. To assemble our loose itinerary, we had done some research on the internet, discussed it between ourselves and other travelers, and inspected every map of Vietnam we could find. But this is the fun kind of travel that we’ll not forget.
The next morning we make some instant coffee, pack up and head out the door at about 0830. We were under the impression that there was no bus to the Na Meo border until 1600 so we negotiated with some motor bike drivers and a taxi driver for twenty minutes and settled on a US$20 ride in an old, beat up micro-van. Because we were paying with a US$50 note and going to receive VND450,000 back as change, we had to stop off at the driver’s house so he could get the cash from his wife. They feed us tea and smoked a water pipe with Levi before we all left for the border. Along the way we picked up and dropped off a few local people. We also saw the apparently non-existent morning bus working its way to the border.
Three hours later we arrived. The border facilities on the Vietnamese side consisted of three square wooden huts and maybe a dozen officials. There are initially no other westerners about but that changed while clearing customs when a single guy appeared from the Laos side. In fact, we were the first to cross that day into Laos. The first order of business was to clear immigration where the man asked us some basic questions, stamped out passports and logged our departure. Next we went back to the customs hut where two officials made a light search of our packs. One official spoke decent English. When he saw that Levi was born in Karlmarxstadt, he said ‘Oh, I have been there several years ago!’ (The socialist governments like to hang out with each other two decades ago.) I got a prepared five minute speech on Vietnam-American history and current relations: it started in the 1950s, nearly four million Vietnamese dead, 58,000 Americans dead, Vietnam won the war in 1975, diplomatic relations resumed in 1995, Bill Clinton made an official visit in 2000, and now we are all friends. Thanks for coming. Please come back. It was a bit spooky really, but I just smiled and thanked him.
Past the gate we walked through the 200m no man’s land between Vietnam and Laos border crossings. 
Just like when we crossed into Vietnam from China, it was eerie. We saw three local women going the other way and two men on bamboo boats on a small river, but that was it.
On the Laos side the facilities included a single large wooden building that housed four or five separate offices. An immigration official at the last office asked us some basic questions, stamped our passports and took our US$1 entrance fee. 
Two customs officials made a much more detailed inspection of our packs than in Vietnam, but it was no problem. Near the building was a waiting passenger truck and Norwegian named Terje who had attempted and failed to cross into Vietnam without a visa. I later learned that Terje, who works in Oslo, had once met the Norwegian kid involved in that DVD decryption software scandal a few years back. Pretty cool for us geeks.
About three hours later we arrived in Sam Neua (aka Xam Neua. The town of ~50,000 people is the little visited provincial capital of Hua Phan. Being at 1200m above sea level, Sam Neua has turned out to be very chilly with day time temperatures well below 10C. Levi, Terje and I all check into the Phatphousay Guesthouse just behind the bus station. Levi and I are sharing a room for US$2 each that has access to a communal hot water bathroom.
Our arrival in Laos has been great and a stark contrast from Vietnam. The people are much more relaxed, even shy. No touts mobbed us at the bus station. Prices are cheap and haggling is a straight forward and friendly process. We have arrived.
Posted by stu at December 8, 2005 11:31 PM
Comments
Happy travels. Very interesting. Alice gave me your site. Love it.
Posted by: Kathy & Kelly at December 11, 2005 06:02 PM