The road to Mueng Sing

"Um, I guess you could do it, but I don't know. It's pretty hilly. Curvy too." After getting this reply from several people I asked about riding a bicycle to Mueng Sing, a small town close to the Chinese border, about 60 kilometers away, I decided to give it a go. As many of you may, ahem, know, the more you tell me that something shouldn't necessarily be done, the more I want to do it. That's the whole reason I went to wander India at 20 years old, sailed a 32 foot boat 6,000 miles instead of much more easily shipping it, and now, rode 60 km in 90 plus degree jungle heat to a dusty town on the other side of the hills. (I can hear my mom sighing)
I rented my mountain bike from the guesthouse and was on my way by 7:45. I would have left earlier but I spent a couple extra minutes in bed wondering if this was really the best idea... didn't an iced coffee and a lazy morning sound more appealing?
It was relatively cool with mist mixing with smoke from trash bonfires on the side of the road. I waved "Sabaidee" at children who came running en masse from thatched huts on stilts, bamboo mats making up the walls and floors. Teenagers on motorbikes buzzed past and did a double-take at the increasingly reddening foreigner peddling up the hills, then laughed hysterically when they realized what I was doing. A girl actually had to stop her bike, she was laughing so hard.
I started to wonder myself as the sun grew warmer and warmer....
Cows meandered into the road, stepping over the pigs and chickens and dogs and children wandering on and off the tarmac.
Terraced rice paddies gave way to rubber tree plantations with villages interspersed every dozen kilometers or so. Then the cultivated land gave way to beautifully dense monsoon forest, crickets and frogs chirping their deafening songs. Only the occasional truck or motorbike passed- have I mentioned I've seen maybe four dozen private cars my entire time in Laos? Everyone gets around by bus, tuk tuk, motorbike, or bicycle. The roads are empty much of the time, hence kids playing on the highway- and you can't blame the parents for letting them, its the only flat land around. And heck, the buses give plenty of warning by laying on the horns, audible for great distances in the quiet countryside.
My legs grew stronger as I got into the groove and then weaker as the kilometers flew by. Did I mention that I don't really bike much? Sure, I'm in decent physical shape, but trying to tackle an uphill bike... well, my quads aren't that firm. I stopped for water breaks often and as I neared the top of the incline (which I didn't know about) a farmer who was especially taken with my beet red face motioned to me (and somehow I understood the international sign language) that once I reached the top, it would be downhill to Mueng Sing. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part.
But bless that old man and Mother Nature! Sure enough, the last 20km were a beautiful downhill cruise and I smiled the entire way. Well, the last 5km into town were flat, but any direction except for up was fine with me. I arrived in Mueng Sing around 1pm, had a brief look around the brief town, got doused by some kids practicing for the Laos New Year next week (also known as the water festival where people drench one another for days), and downed a local speciality- fermented soybean paste mixed with chilies, cilantro, and lemon accompanied by veggies and sticky rice. Kind of like miso paste. Interesting.
I considered for a moment the bike back, how beautiful but challenging it would be. And so I asked the nearest local, "When's the next bus to Luang NamTha?"
One doesn't need to push oneself too much.

Vientiane

The bottle of Beerlao barely refracted the misty Mekong sunset. My new friend Amy and I shared a couple of tall ones as we sat on the dry riverbed of the Mekong in Vientiane, Laos as we rehashed the previous few days adventures:
My night train to Nong Khai on the border of Thailand and Laos was delayed because a freight train had crashed at the next station. "Delay three or five hour only" turned into nine hours. Night became day, the train whistle blew, and we shuffled along through the rice paddies and craggy hills of rural Thailand. Eleven out of twelve hours into the journey, I discovered the dining car where apparently all the Westerners on the train had converged hours before for a bit of beer drinking and story swapping. And thats where I met Amy who traveled with me for a couple of days before leaving for the north on a night bus this evening (hopefully no delays on that one).
Nong Khai, Thailand, on the bank of the Mekong River has Buddhist Wats and tasty food stalls aplenty, just like most Thai towns. But what most other towns lack is a sculpture garden with towering Buddhas and snakes and Hindu gods molded out of cement by a very driven if not a little obsessive shaman decades ago. Wandering through the dozens of sculptures hundreds of feet tall made me feel a bit lazy- sure he had help, but man, that guy had vision.
Across the Friendship Bridge into Laos, then a twenty minute minibus ride with a bunch of women joking and laughing with each other the entire way to Vientiane... I loved it immediately. Vientiane is the capital of Laos, but with only 300,000 people, its pretty chill. There is a mix of Asian and French architecture and the brilliantly gold temples are purely Buddhist.
Amy and I spent two days wandering around, sampling fruit shakes and French pastries, Lao noodles and beer, taking tons of pictures of wats and stupas and small children on motorbikes.
Last night was the final night of the Mekong Festival and we were treated to two amazing French bands, accordions, basses and all, charismatically playing in a very dramatic French way as the dragonflies circled in the stage lights and little kids danced at the feet of the band.
So far, I love it here. Even the tuk tuk drivers who are trying to rip you off are nice....
Off to Vang Viene tomorrow...