I'm on a Boat

Banana chips that look like bacon but taste better?

Check. 42 cans of Beer Laos' in giant Styrofoam coolers? Check. Chicken sandwiches on freshly baked baguettes hinting to Laos' French colonial past? Topped with cucumber, carrots, tomato, onion, and chili aoli? Bought from a smiley local women whose sign reads, "cheap, cheap for you, thank you."?

Check.
Playing cards?
Check.
Teddy bear and flower-covered pillows for uncomfortable seats?
Check.
Sunglasses?
Check.
The Magnificent Seven still intact and kicking?
Check.

Huay Xai -> Pa Bang -> Luang Prabang, 7/12/11 - 7/14/11

After the grueling hikes, thrills, and near death snake encounters of the Gibbon Experience, all seven of us (sometimes the "Magnificent Seven" other times the "Treehouse Seven") are practically family. We're gathered together taking a two-day slow boat trip from Huay Xai in Northern Laos to Luang Prabang in the center. The wooden boat has about eighty other passengers, gray comfy seats lifted out of old minivans, and its roof is doubling as storage for motorcycles and bikes. Tourists sit in the auto seats while locals sit on the floor and bow.

After last night's meal, we're quite full. We sat riverside in Huay Xai and consumed a seven-person feast the center of which were two large Laos barbeques (sindaths). The sindaths are large metal barbeques, the bottom of which is a moat filled with broth, the top is thin pyramid-shaped dome with small slits to let in the heat. You put vegetables, egg, herbs, and noodles in the broth and raw meat on the dome. Combine everything together and you have a heady Laotian soup. We also pass around green curry, fried beef strips which taste like jerky, steamed calamari with wasabi dipping sauce, shrimp and garlic toast, fresh limeade, and Beer Laos'.

The boat ride is the perfect way to take in Laos. It's a breezy, lazy tour with stunning views of limestone cliffs, fjords, rice paddies, and fisherman. We pass by many gold panners, bending down right at the Mekong's edge, performing the back breaking sifting work for hours for what amounts to a meager amount of gold flake, netting roughly $100/month grand total. The tour is down the Mekong River, Southeast Asia's version of the Mississippi, which runs through Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia.

The river is home to the world's largest catfish, some stretching up to 20 feet and weighing up to 600lbs, with whiskers the size of forearms. Every April, fisherman gather on this section of the river to try to catch the famed beasts. Sadly, we don't spot any, which is unfortunate since riding a giant catfish to Luang Prabang would be more scenic and eco-friendly than the boat. Plus I would be happy to share my beer with Mr. Whiskers. [images from Google]






Our boat stops for the evening in Pa Bang, a sleepy commuter town. Although dinner takes an hour to arrive, when it does, it is quite worth the wait. I have the Lao national dish of Laap, a salad of minced fish/chicken/pork/beef/duck, with fish sauce, lime juice, mint, coriander, chilis, basil, scallions, and shallots. It's refreshing, spicy, and light, perfect for the humid evening. Especially when spooned onto lettuce leaves and rolled up. Breakfast the next morning is a crisp crepe-like pancake stuffed with bananas and covered in condensed milk. It resembles the surface of the moon, except light yellow and more delicious.

***

Forty-two beers down, the Treehouse Seven arrives in Luang Prabang the following day. The small city is a beautiful UNESCO World Heritage site, positioning right on the Mekong River. We're staying in the old quarter, a small peninsula in the north of town replete with classy guesthouses, riverfront restaurants, outdoor bars, a terrific hill tribe craft market, and dozens of temples on hill tops. The architecture is distinctly French colonial, showing the city's roots. Every morning, dozens of orange silk-clad monks line up at sunrise to accept their alms, or daily food donations from the town locals, as they are not allowed to exchange money. (I try to get up and watch one morning, but quickly fall back asleep).

With the local street vendors

Like most of Laos, the town has a calm, slow pace, with locals leisurely walking the streets or taking time to read the newspaper while savoring a coffee. Speaking of, Jen and I immediately drop our bags and head off to nearby Saffron Cafe for a superstrong hilltribe coffee. Jen runs into a Danish friend who she studied abroad with in Scandanavia. It's quite unfortunate she's not single, but no worries, as I'll probably see her in Sports Illustrated in a couple years.

Our clothes smell like gibbon droppings which, though a potent aphrodisiac, has become mundane after five days. So they get tossed in the laundry and we make our way over to Utopia, a large river-adjacent bar and restaurant owned by a friendly Aussie. There's a big pavilion with low tables surrounded by pillows, volleyball, board games, hookah pipes, a grotto, and colorful lanterns. We listen to a terrific request-taking guitar player who breezes through Wonderwall, Satisfaction, Summer of '69, and Mary Jane's Last Dance.


We share an appetizer Mekong River Weed (crispy like fried seaweed) with a fiery and smoky maroon-colored water buffalo chili dip. I share Teresa's umami-rich mushroom melt. After the owner and menu keep hailing Utopia's burger as "the best in Laos", I finally cave and owner my first Western food of the trip. The gamble pays off -- it's a big, beefy patty on a soft homemade bun with onion, tomato, lettuce, bacon, and wasabi aoli. Perfectly medium rare, it's a delicious taste of home, while the wasabi still keeps my mind in Asia. The best burger in Laos? Hell, as it's the only one I've tried, I will gladly proclaim it the best one in Southeast Asia.

Amen.

The bars in Luang Prabang close at 11pm, which means it's time for late night bowling, oddly staying open well past the curfew. Someone should really tell the two Jens they're supposed to hit the pins, not the sides, as neither of them break double digits in ten frames. I shockingly have a really great game and should really bowl in Laos more often.

***

The next morning, I grab a quick breakfast at the local Scandinavian Bakery: Pineapple shake, strong hilltribe coffee with warm milk (nice touch), and a toasted twisted cheese croissant, layered like lasagna and flaky like Kate Hudson. Chris, Jen, and I rent mountain bikes and spend the afternoon hiking waterfalls and trying not to pass out due to the heat, mud, and rain. When we make it back in the evening, I look like I spent all day in the sauna.

 

Note: Some photos from Jen and Teresa