Floating Through Laos - June 19, 2013

It took only a few hours for Laos to have already won me over.

Entering Laos was one of my more unusual border crossings. From northern Thailand, I hopped into a small wooden boat, floating inches above the water, a boat which I wasn't sure I would even fit into, me along with several Thai women.

Less than a minute later, the driver dropped me off on the shores of Laos. Each country has its own entrance requirements. With Laos, all I had to do was show up with $35, a picture, and I was granted a 30-day visa. No sweat. Of course, I speak no Laotian, and immigration spoke little English.

Normally, it isn't a problem. There's a lot of smiling, pointing, and patience from all parties involved. Actually, the biggest hangup was that I wanted one of the guards to help me with the pronunciation for "thank you" in Laotian.

So far, I've been extremely lucky crossing borders during this trip. I've entered into the United Arab Emirates, Thailand, and Laos, and no one has asked me a single question or even glanced at my bag. I feel like a guardian angle is looking over me. Uncle Ben certainly got things started off on the right foot when he said a very thoughtful prayer for my safe travel before taking me to the airport. I think it's working.

After getting my paperwork finished, I began my usual ritual, finding a place to stay. People have often asked me how I travel in foreign countries without reservations and without knowing the language. Basically, I find out where the general location is for hotels, walk around and look at three or four, get an idea of the prices, and pick a place. That's all it takes.

My first night in Huay Xai I stayed at a hotel run by a Laotian man with a Chinese wife. For hours, we sat, drank green tea, and talked or tried to talk. He knew little English, and, like with Thai, I know two Laotian expressions - "hello" and "thank you."

Still, we managed to find a connection, and as it grew closer to supper time, he insisted I eat with his family.

The wife brought out three or four huge platters of food, and the parents weren't satisfied until I was stuffed. Afterward, the man asked me if I drank. I said I've been known to on occasion, and he then asked if I'd like to try some homemade Laotian whiskey. Now, how could I refuse a request like that. I wouldn't want to be rude.

The man brought out a jar of some liquid. That I was expecting, but I was stunned by what was floating in the bottom of the jar - a huge centipede. Hey, in Mexico there's a worm in the bottom of the tequila. Why not a centipede.

We had a couple of shots, both of which made my eyes water. I swear I tasted a hint of insect.

The next morning, I got up bright and early for my two-day boat ride down the Mekong River to Luang Prabang. Up until this point, I had had no stomach issues at all. So after breakfast, I got a little nervous when my stomach began to rumble. "Oh no! I thought. Not before a two-day boat ride." I assume it was something I ate and had nothing to do with the centipede hooch.

Fortunately, the storm passed, and I made it onto the boat O.K.

My transportation looked like something out of an old movie. It was a long wooden boat with a canopy covering to block out the sun and rain. The sides were open. In the past, passengers rode on wooden benches, but now old car seats have been installed to make the ride smoother.

I thought most of the passengers would have been tourists, but actually it was about evenly split. Apparently, there are some pretty remote stretches of Laos that are best accessed via the river.

We shoved off, traveling at a leisurely 10-15 miles per hour. When they called it a slow boat they weren't kidding. On and on we drifted, passing an occasional fisherman but no one else. All that was around was mile after mile of mountains covered by jungle; however, every few hours, we passed a village along the banks of the river.

After a couple of hours, the initial excitement inside the boat died down and the oppressive heat took over. Suddenly, all of the passengers got quiet and just fell into a kind of heat-induced lethargy; however, interestingly, it wasn't a negative experience. Far from it. The journey took on its own rhythm. It was as if we were in a semi-conscious state lulled into a hypnotic state from the heat, the hum of the engine, the sound of insects chirping, and the incredible scenery.

Later in the afternoon, the heat began to diminish, and the passengers, once again, came to life with increased chatter and increased energy.

After about six hours on the river, we stopped at a village for the night, and the next morning put in about seven more hours on the river before arriving at Luang Prabang.

Really, it was a quite interesting experience. As I road down the river, I was overcome by the jagged, forest covered mountains, and by the thought that until recent years, I would not have even been allowed to travel here because of the fighting in the region.

During my journey, I have run into a few tourists, but keep in mind that this is low season, and the merchants tell me business is still slow from the great recession. It makes life a lot easier for me because I know accommodations will not be hard to come by.

Over the last couple of days, I have begun to become more acclimated to the heat. For the last week or so, I've seen no rain, but I am sure that will change in the coming days with monsoon season unfolding at different rates in different parts of Southeast Asia.

Everyone is up to date. I am beginning my third week of travel and am continuing to enjoy it. It is getting harder to find internet locations, but I'll keep trying to let you know how I'm doing.