Muang Ngoi
by mikka
Luang Prabang is so indolent that it's easy to spend a whole day wandering from cafe to cafe without getting much done; on Monday, wanting a break from the endless supply of fruit smoothies and internet cafes, and lured by the idyllic write-ups, I took a bus to Nong Khiaw and then a one hour boat to the small town of Muang Ngoi, a quasi-distant town in the mountains, accessible only by river.
An empty petang court; early morning mist rising over the mountains.
The boat ride over was a bit uncomfortable - I got on the small, extremely narrow boat early enough when it was just me and a handful of locals; then, about 5 minutes before departure, about thirty backpackers came down the dock, and the boatman quickly herded all the Lao passengers onto a separate boat, which promptly took off, before packing all 30+ tourists and their gigantic backpacks onboard. I'm still not exactly sure how we all fit on that tiny boat (curled up knee to knee and cheek to jowel, with room for me to put exactly one foot on the ground at a time) but at least there was a short break when the water became too shallow and we all had to get off and hike for about thirty minutes along the shore. It was a beautiful hike through sandy beaches and shady trails through the jungle overhung with sinuous vines and flowers, so I didn't particularly mind the detour. The next morning, I bought my ticket as early as possible, hoping to avoid the overcrowding, but there seems to be one tourist boat to and from the town per day, so we got to do the same thing all over again, minus the hike.
Falang-friendly signs proliferate; a "falang roll" apparently involves peanut butter (waffles not included.)
Despite its isolation, Muang Ngoi seems to be a fairly well-established stop on the tourist
trail, and so the town didn't quite match the antediluvian descriptions found in Lonely Planet - there are phones wires criss-crossing the streets now - but it was beautiful and remote nonetheless. The unpaved red-dust roads are scattered with chickens and small children playing and maybe one or two bicycles; at dusk, when we arrived, people were slowly picking their way to and from the river to bathe before dinner. The electricity blinked on unsteadily at around 7pm, and the night was loud with the sounds of insects and the occasional tinny, syrupy Lao pop music from the small storefronts along the main drag.
trail, and so the town didn't quite match the antediluvian descriptions found in Lonely Planet - there are phones wires criss-crossing the streets now - but it was beautiful and remote nonetheless. The unpaved red-dust roads are scattered with chickens and small children playing and maybe one or two bicycles; at dusk, when we arrived, people were slowly picking their way to and from the river to bathe before dinner. The electricity blinked on unsteadily at around 7pm, and the night was loud with the sounds of insects and the occasional tinny, syrupy Lao pop music from the small storefronts along the main drag.
Foot traffic in Muang Ngoi.
Kids playing on the riverside amidst flowers and a cloud of butterflies.
Nam Ou reflections (taken while twisting my body in half on the isanely crowded boat)
One of the many huge, startlingly blue butterflies that populate the banks of the Nam Ou River.
Leaving Luang Prabang for good today for Vientienne, so will keep you posted from there. I have more pictures, as always, but at the mercy of slow internet connections (as always) and so will try and post more later, along with those photos of Luang Prabang I never got around to posting. Talk to you from the capital!
