The Journey Home, Chapter 5: The Nothingness of Vientiane

I tend to think of myself as a pretty positive guy. For better, and sometimes for worse, I'll see the good things about a place well before I see the negatives. I think every destination has something that can change you - something that opens your mind a little bit more to new sights, sounds, smells and tastes. I believe the real beauty of travel is finding the hidden gems and being swept off your feet by a new place without even realizing it. 

Sometimes it can be downright tough to leave a place you've unexpectedly fallen in love with. And then sometimes, you end up in a place like Vientiane, Laos. 

Welcome to Vientiane - Sorry, We're Closed

As the ten hours aboard my overnight "sleeper" bus from Luang Prabang came to an end, I groggily peeked outside to see a an empty, early-morning skyline. It was so early in fact, that the sun had just come up. As I anticipated pulling into downtown Vientiane, the riverside capital of Laos, I started to collect my things and get ready for a bustling scene of Southeast Asia urban chaos. It was right at the moment when the bus pulled into a two-building, rural gas station-type facility and turned off the engine. This was the Vientiane bus terminal. It was about 6:30 a.m.

Bewildered and half asleep, I stumbled out of the bus, got my bag and tried in vain to figure out where in the hell I was exactly. Joined by fellow confused passengers, I ended up in the back of an overcrowded tuk-tuk headed for the vague destination called "city center."

I found out later that the Vientiane bus terminal was in fact ten kilometers outside of the city itself. Whether it was some kind of conspiracy by the local tuk-tuk driver mafia to get passengers, or horrendous city planning, it wasn't fun or convenient.


Upon getting dropped off at the random locale deemed "city center" by our tuk-tuk driver, I looked around to see that literally every single business on the quiet, dirty street was closed. So I did just about the only thing I could've done - I sat down.

Camping just outside of a coffee shop, I waited about two and half hours until it opened up, as I desperately headed for the counter, trying to caffeine into my body as soon as possible.

After a quality cup of Laotian black coffee, I marched down the main street a few blocks, checked into my hostel, and collapsed onto my bed. The rest of my first day wasn't anything too special - mostly walking to convenience stores for water and a group dinner with a couple fellow backpackers from the hostel.

Once bedtime rolled around, I sat down with my tourist map, and tried to plan out some fun activities for my next three days. This would prove to be much more difficult than anticipated.

Something, Anything to Do

Day two began with a complimentary omelet  at the hostel, and I got ready for my day of wandering. I usually like to walk around new cities during my first day - the sights and sounds from the sidewalk tend to give away the city's personality. This is probably why I found Vientiane to be such a disappointment.

The Mekong seemed to take a big, deep, depressed breath as it wound lethargically through the shockingly dull riverfront of Vientiane. Nothing but red flags with sickles and hammers adorned the riverbank, as one continuous unfinished construction project seemed to take up all of the space.

Returning to the hostel after a brief loop around riverfront and downtown areas, I still had over half of the day for activities. I ended up renting bikes with Daniel, my new Swedish friend, in a desperate attempt to escape the creeping boredom that loomed not so far away. 

We picked out one of the only landmarks on our tourist map: Patuxai. Navigating the confusing but highly bike-able side streets of Vientiane, we found our way to Patuxai Park, the monument dedicated to the independence of Laos from foreign aggressors and French colonialism.

Right in the middle of an oval shaped island of grass and broken water fountains, a gigantic arch of blackened concrete towered over a plaza overlooking a number of spotlessly white government buildings. Like some kind of faux, dilapidated Arc de Triomphe  

It was a giant mold of concrete, which I found out later, was in fact donated by none other than the U.S. of A. - to be used for a new airport in Vientiane. But, runways be damned. Let's build a gigantic eyesore in the middle of town, and fill it up with cheap souvenirs. That's right - this behemoth tribute to the eventual victory of communism in Laos is completely stuffed with gift shops and trinket stalls from top to bottom. What would Chairman Mao have to say about this?

Ain't no party like a Communist Party

Political cynicism aside, at least the view from the top was nice. Quite nice, actually.

I rode back to the hostel half defeated, but at least out of my bed. I had one more day in Vientiane, by mistake, and I wanted to make the most of it.

My Vientiane Souvenir

Encouraged by an utter lack of anything exciting happening during the past couple of days, when the opportunity arose to join a free "trial tour" to a "local" waterfall, hosted by my hostel, I jumped on it. We were going out of the city, which was more than inviting to me.

Little did I know that there was in fact nothing "local" about this waterfall, and I'd be breathing nothing but tuk-tuk exhaust fumes for three hours straight.

It all began around 9 a.m. when I hopped in the back of the tuk-tuk. What was supposed to be a straightforward 45 minute drive, as advertised, turned into a two and half hour fiasco through rural Laos, trying to track down a supposed waterfall.

To be fair, the views of the countryside were stunning, and it was worthwhile to catch another glimpse into a lesser explore part of Laos. We did arrive at the waterfall, but only after several dirt roads, a near accident, and getting out to push an unhealthy amount of times.

The waterfall was, in fact, stunning. The perfect natural pool below the wide falls opened up as an enticing target for a cannonball, which I proceeded to indulge in. 

It was a great swim - extra refreshing, especially after that tuk-tuk debacle. The water looked and smelled clean, as far as I could tell. It only would be about two or three days later that this locale became a prime suspect for causing what I would end up experiencing for the rest of my trip, in varying degrees. More about this later.

After another two hours in the back of the carbon spewing tuk-tuk, I arrived back at the hostel filthy, hungry, and with just 45 minutes to catch the bus out of town. I took my shower, packed my dirty clothes and ate the closest available meal: a vegetarian buffet.

Somewhere in the packing and/or eating vegetables, something didn't feel right. I was coughing, badly. I felt my forehead and it was hotter than usual, even for a Coloradan in Southeast Asia. I shrugged and hoped it would blow over on the bus.

Sure enough, it didn't, and I was soon wrestling with a chest cold in the middle of southern Laos. Vientiane decided to leave me one last memory: disease. At least it was something I could take with me to remember the place.

Vientiane is great - for sleeping, and getting out of the bus to go pee. Otherwise ... well, see the above.


[After visiting a doctor in Phnom Penh - more on that later - I got some Tylenol and have been o.k since - B]