The Night Train to Bangkok

Head pressed against the window, countryside blurring past, the familiar click clacking rhythm of the train reverberating through the half empty sleeper cabin, sun lost in the distant horizon, maybe somewhere over Laos or the Mekong. It’s only at this moment, almost five months detached from my former life in Canada, at the conclusion of the second leg of my trip, that the gravity of it all finally sinks in.

Am I really here, I wonder?

Is any of this really happening?

Photos:

Travel Day: Nong Khai, Sala Kaew Ku

Having exhausted both my 15 day Lao visa and most of Vientiane’s sights (which are few in number), I packed my bags and set off for the Thai border town of Nong Khai, a half hour bus ride away. The border crossing was taken care of by mid-morning, leaving most of the day free to check out the town.

So with guidebook in hand, I hopped on a rented bicycle and puttered about town a bit before going to Sala Kaew Ku, a sculpture park a few kilometers east of the city limits. The sculptures here are based on an exiled Lao national’s interpretation of Hindu and Buddhist folklore.

An old Isan (Northeastern Thai) tradition of tying strings to the wrist, symbolically binding people together has been applied to many of the statues in the park.

The gateway to hell:

Buddha under the shade of 7 Nagas (snakes):




Slow day for business in Nong Khai:

Vientiane: Pastries

As luck would have it, I managed to catch up with my two Swiss friends today. With no solid plans, we ended up strolling Vientiane’s back streets, browsing through book shop after book shop and making repeat visits to our new favourite hangout, the Café Croissant D’or.

The café is foreign owned and therefore a little more upscale (read: expensive) than I’m accustomed. Nevertheless, it’s as good a place as any for palatable (and unpronounceable) French pastries, and it’s definitely a pleasant change from eating soup noodles on the roadside. Today’s special promotion was a free surprise with every order after 3 o’clock. The surprise being the most delicious banana bread I’ve ever had.

Vientiane: Paris Lite

Had Paris been the capital of a communist Asian country, she might have looked something like Vientiane, with its old art deco buildings, remnants of long departed French colonialists

Police officers milling about, sporting Maoist style military uniforms and Soviet made rifles

And odd little bits of cold war kitsch tucked away in crumbling old shops

Lane Xang Avenue, the heart of the city, is the Lao equivalent of the Champs-Élysées, its boulevards stretching as far as the eye can see.

Patuxai victory monument, her version of the Arc de Triomphe

And just as in Paris, scores of cafés and boulangeries scatter the city, bearing signs en français.

The manicured lawns and well tended streets, though, are reserved for this area alone as upkeep of the whole city is far too costly, both for the government and civilians