In the tubing

After the early-morning collection of alms by the monks in Luang Prabang, we board a minivan for the 5-6+ hour ride to Vang Vieng.  The road is bumpy, twisting and mountainous--not exactly ideal for those prone to motion sickness.  But at this point in the trip we seem to be getting used to it. Pop in the headphones, relax and enjoy the scenery.  In Laos, you quickly learn to go with the flow. There really is no other way.

River bar - note the beach pails.

Once little more than a rural village, Vang Vieng has exploded into a backpacker must-do on the Pancake Trail of Southeast Asia. Most of the draw centers around "tubing," which is essentially the act of floating down the beautiful Nam Song river in a gigantic truck tire inner tube.  What started as an innocent way to relax has grown into a Spring Break-like free for all. A few miles up from town the river is lined with simple bars set on flimsy platforms just above the river's rushing water. They pump loud music from around 11AM and sell Beer Lao and buckets by the hundreds to young Western travelers eager for dancing and debauchery. Oh, buckets--an amusing and perhaps unfortunate mainstay of SE Asian travel.  Take one brightly colored plastic beach pail, fill with your choice of cheap liquor, usually Tiger Whiskey (about $1-2/bottle) and a mixer (often the extreme Thai version of Red Bull, M-150) toss in a handful of drinking straws and there you have it: a kitschy recipe for disaster.


Our little minivan arrives in town that afternoon. We're immediately greeted by an English-speaking, Western "tout" trying to get us to stay in some guesthouse he's been living in "for the last 2 months." Now that's a first! Thanks, but no thanks. So, after securing another guesthouse we walk the streets for a few hours, soaking up the vibe of the town.  Street-side sandwiches are cheap, "In the Tubing" t-shirts and dry bags are plentiful and kids are drunk or high, barefoot or bandaged--often all of the above.  The streets are also lined with "TV bars" where bleary-eyed travelers plop down behind low tables, prop themselves up on pillows, and stare blankly at endless reruns of Family Guy and Friends. It's an odd place.

Less beer, more scenery.

The next morning we get started around 11AM, which is relatively late for us. After a quick bite we hit up tubing central, where several surrounding villages have formed a cooperative business renting tubes to travelers. Sign up, pay up, grab a life vest (which most people don't) and go. It's surprisingly organized for Laos, but I can't really blame them for getting on top of things and making the most of all the tourists dollars that are flowing in.  So we rent our tubes and head off in a songthaew with a handful of other travelers. 

Soon we find ourselves a few miles upriver, ready for some tubing action.  Much to our surprise we seem to be the first group on the river, but that turns out to be a blessing in disguise.  We have a few beers, try out a gigantic, two-story slide and surf on the back of old doors--all without the crowds or much fear of injury.  The scariest thing is the speed of the current in the rainy season, so we make sure it keep our wits about us whenever we dip into the river again.

After clearing the glut of bars at the beginning of the trip, we drift relaxingly, soaking up the sun and the scenery with big smiles on our faces.  The beautiful karst cliffs rise up to our right, towering over us as the sun shines brightly overhead.  It's no wonder adventure sports like rock climbing are also becoming popular in this area.

Luckily we started early enough to squeeze in a 2nd trip down the river after lunch.  By this time the whole scene has morphed into a full-on party extravaganza. Dance parties are erupting, kids are playing soccer in the mud and spray painting one another with raunchy slogans.  People are headed down the slide 2-3 at a time, not giving the bar employees enough time to reel them in with life preserver or ropes with plastic bottles tied to the end. Remember the current I mentioned? In only a few minutes we see several people quickly drift 100 ft. or so down the river, sans tube. Once drifting they're left to ride the current to the next bar or grab some branches and pull themselves out of the river.  It's easy to see how people get hurt or even killed which sadly happens every year.

Get some!

We hang out for a while, just to observe the insanity. Then, after another leisurely trip down the river we drop off our tubes and head back to the room, sun-baked and ready for a nap.

So, is Vang Vieng far from that "real" Lao experience that some travelers are craving? Absolutely. But as a glaring example of this countries struggle to grow and define it's tourism industry, it's definitely worth seeing firsthand.  And we certainly can't deny the natural beauty this part of country has to offer. 

Tomorrow morning we head for the capital city of Vientiane to get our Vietnam visas all squared away.