Monday 16 November 2015

Si Phan Don (4,000 Islands): Part 10 of Thailand and Laos

An Enchanted Land of Calm Water and Freshwater Dolphins - and two Mighty Rapids

Dawn at Muang Khong and a Morning Full of Possibilities

Yesterday we arrived after dark at Muang Khong the largest settlement on the largest of the 4,000 Islands lying in a reach of the Mekong in the far south of Laos.

Our route through Lao to Si Phan Don (4,000 Islands)

In my youth I was a talented sleeper, but somewhere on life's journey I mislaid the knack and now usually rise well before 6 o’clock. Lynne woke me around 5.30 with the words, ‘Come and look at the sunrise.’ Had she said that in 1975 ours might have been a short marriage but in 2015 I was merely surprised that I was not already awake.

Pulling on a pair of shorts I joined her on the balcony. The horizon glowed pink, orange and gold, colours picked up by the river on the far bank. The sun was yet to appear, but the sky was already fading from blackness to a blue that was reflected in the blue/grey slate of the water lapping the island’s shore.

Just before sunrise, Si Phan Don

Then the sun rose. The only camera we had left after the ‘Kong Lor Disaster’ was hardly up to the job and these are the best we could manage.

Just after sunrise, Si Phan Don

Having heard rumours that as in Luang Prabang monks did a begging run at 6 o’clock we wandered out to take a look. Although we spotted several monks the rumour proved false, but it mattered little, six o’clock in the morning is a lovely time. The freshly-minted morning folds you in a warm embrace, the air is clean, the sun sparkles on the water and the day to come holds infinite possibilities.

Calmly facing infinite possibilities, early morning, Muang Khong

One of those possibilities was breakfast. Ging and his driver had been home to Pakse for the night and conveniently arrived as we finished eating.

By Boat from the Island of Don Khong to the Confusingly Named Island of Don Khon

We packed our cases in the van and checked out. By 8 o’clock we were sitting in a small boat ready to investigate less routine possibilities.

We set off down the channel between Don Khong and the river bank, passing settlements…

Settlement beside the Mekong Si Phan Don

…and under the bridge we crossed last night.

Don Khong Bridge

We saw fishermen….

Fisherman, Si Phan Don

….and overtook slower moving traffic as we headed into the maze of channels between the various islands.

Slower moving Traffic, Si Phan Don

It was a pleasant and a relaxing trip, the movement of the boat providing a refreshing breeze as the day grew hotter.

Our destination, over an hour from Don Khong, was the confusingly named Don Khon, a small island but the second most developed of the (alleged) 4,000. As we approached we were passed by a couple of boy racers.

Boy racers, approaching Don Khon

Across Don Khon to the Home of the Freshwater Dolphins

We moored at Ban Khon, Don Khon’s main settlement. We were headed for Ban Hang on the island’s southern tip but for reasons that will become obvious, taking the boat round the island was a bad idea. Bicycles can be hired for the 4km journey, but as neither of us had ridden a bike for forty years we took the easy option, a motor-tricycle.

Setting off from Ban Khon on a motor-tricycle

It was not the most comfortable of rides, the unpaved road was sometimes rutted and meeting a vehicle travelling in the opposite direction meant a visit to the hedge.

Somebody's coming the other way! The road to Ban Hang

The road ends at the French port near Ban Hang where a concrete platform looks out over placid pools stretching away to the Cambodian border. These pools are home to several dozen Irrawaddy Dolphins. Despite their name they are not true river dolphins, and very few live in the Irrawaddy - most of the world’s 7,000 Irrawaddy Dolphins live around the coast of Bangladesh. They regularly move into brackish water and a few populations have gone the whole hog and moved up river systems to fresh water, the 80-90 surviving in a 200km stretch of the Mekong being the largest such population. The use of gill-nets, electricity and poison in Cambodia, have reduced their numbers and the damming of tributaries on the Lao side has damaged their habitat so they are now critically endangered.

Placid pools, with Cambodia on the far side, south of Don Khon

Ging hired a canoe and we walked down what seemed an over-elaborate slipway, boarded the boat and puttered out into the pool, the long tailed-outboard being more than sufficient to scare off the dolphins. The boatman ran us onto one of the many shoals, cut the engine and we waited and watched.

Waiting among the shoals, south of Don Khon

Nothing happened so we moved to more open water and waited and watched some more. I do not remember who saw the first one, Lynne, the boatman or Ging but it was certainly not me. I heard a hiss and the words ‘over there’ but I was sitting in the bow so could not see the pointing arm and the dolphin was long gone before I was looking in the right direction. This was repeated several times and I was becoming frustrated but eventually I was lucky enough to be looking in the right direction when I heard a snort and I saw a bulbous head, long back and small fin as a creature 1.5m long and the colour of the river breached the surface. In forty minutes or so we made about a dozen such sightings, none lasted longer than seconds and few were shared by two or more people. And did I get a photograph? Of course not, so I have borrowed one from Wikipedia.

Irrawaddy Dolphin, photograph by Jean-Claude Durka borrowed from Wikipedia
This photograph was taken a little further south near the Cambodian town of Kratié

As we walked up from the landing stage one of my new shoes, the ones I bought in Thakhek only two days previously, fell apart. I paid only 55,000Kip (£4.50) but had hoped they would last the week.

Walking up the over-elaborate slipway from the landing stage, Ban Hang, Don Khon

Shoe Repairs and the Somphamit Falls

Lynne walked and I limped to a café. ‘Do you need glue?’ Ging asked, spotting my predicament.’ I looked at the small array of goods available, they did not include glue. ‘It would be useful ….’ I ventured. ‘There is glue,’ Ging said confidently and spoke to the owner

As we ordered, I noticed the owner’s daughter setting off towards the village on her motorbike.

Lao coffee is strong and thick and strained through a muslin sack. Ours was served with the usual tin of sweet coconut milk gloop and, less usually, a bottle of glue. Ging appointed himself shoe repairer in chief - as a rich westerner I was far too important or incompetent to mend my own shoes (and the second of those is probably true).

Coffee and shoe repair, Don Khon

After paying for coffee and glue we climbed back on the tricycle with Ging on the pillion, survived an overtaking manoeuvre and turned left towards the island’s western shore.

Overtaking a tractor, Don Khon

Leaving the bike at the end of the road we walked through bamboo thickets to the Somphamit (or Li Phi) Falls. The Falls are more rapids than waterfalls but show clearly enough why we came across the island rather than round it by boat.

Through bamboo thickets to the Somphamit Falls

The area of white water is huge and we could see only a small fraction from the land. Li Phi mean Sprit Trap as it was believed the bad spirits of the dead collected here as they were washed downstream while the good spirits often became dolphins.



A small part of the Somphamit (or Li Phi) Falls

The French Mekong Expedition of 1866 and Laos' Longest Ever Completed Railway

The French acquired Saigon and the Mekong delta in the early 1860s and most of what is now Cambodia later in the decade. With the British well established in Shanghai and controlling trade from central China by the Yangtze route, the French hoped to make Saigon a rival to Shanghai with the Mekong providing a path into the riches of northern Siam and southern China.

In 1866 the Mekong Expedition left Saigon, charged with important scientific, mapping and diplomatic work but its primary purpose was to assess the river’s navigability.

At Phnom Penh they detoured up the Tonle Sap to Seam Riep to see the newly rediscovered Angkor Wat. Rapids in northern Cambodia were their first problem. That proved solvable, but then they saw Somphamit and the Khon Phapheng Falls (see later). They spent a week exploring the channels hoping to find some way to force a medium sized boat through, but it was impossible. Despite this disappointment the expedition continued upstream, through Vientiane and Luang Prabang to Yunnan in southern China and thence via the Yangtze to Shanghai and back to Saigon. The expedition was a major scientific success but an equally major economic disappointment.

Just a small part of the impassable Somphamit (or Li Phi) Falls

The French did not give up on their plan. On the way back to Ban Khon we paused at a relic of their heroic efforts to open up the upper Mekong.

Engine on the Don Det-Don Khon line

I had wondered about the elaborate slipway down to the landing stage. Now I learned it was the start of the only railway ever built in Laos (until 2009 when the line from Bangkok was extended across the new Friendship Bridge and a couple of kilometres into Lao territory). A 600mm gauge line was laid in 1893. The track was removable and the trucks man-hauled the 4km to Ban Khon village. A year later a permanent track was laid and a wood burning engine brought up the river. As the water at Ban Khon was too shallow in the dry season a bridge was built to Don Det island…

The bridge to Don Det

… and the now 7km long railway was upgraded to metre gauge. Starting with a squadron of gunboats, steamers were brought in sections, loaded onto the train, transported above the rapids and reassembled. The railway later carried passengers and freight, remaining in operation until 1940. None of the track survives but the road our motor-tricycle had plied between Ban Khon and Ban Hang was the original railway alignment.

The Don Det bridge
The pedestrians are mostly schoolchildren heading home for lunch.

Back to Ban Khon

We continued past the old French built school back into Ban Khon and stopped at the restaurant in the village centre. It was a little early for lunch so I enjoyed a pineapple milkshake though I have no idea where the milk came from, dairy products are virtually unknown in Laos.

School built in colonial times, Don Khon

Then it was time for lunch. Lynne tried one of the local specialities - fish with honey and fried potatoes, a strange combination but surprisingly successful. I had Pad Thai Pork a universal Lao/Thai favourite and always enjoyable. From the restaurant we could watch the central crossroads with children coming home from school.

The bustling centre of Ban Khon

and across the main street was a shop selling some of the biggest, roundest pineapples it has been my privilege to ogle.

Just cop an eyeful of those pineapples, Ban Khon

The Khon Papheng Falls

After lunch it was back onto the boat and through narrow channels to the eastern bank of the river…

Through narrow channels back to the eastern bank of the Mekong

… where our driver was waiting to take us the short distance to the Khon Papheng Falls. The eastern counterpart to the Somphamit Falls is also a huge surge of water – in terms of throughput, by far the largest falls in Laos. The greatest single drop is 21m, but during the rainy season and just after (i.e. November) the quantity of water disguises the height. Because of its accessibility it is a much bigger tourist attraction than Somphamit with the usual tourist infrastructure – entrance fee, buggies to drive people round and stalls to sell them unwanted souvenirs. We preferred the undeveloped Somphamit and anyway this was our second falls of the day, which may be one too many.

Just a small part of the torrent, Khon Papheng Falls

To Houei Tomo and Across the River to Champasak

Our last two nights in Laos would be in Champasak, over 100km to the north, so we set off back up Route 13. Laos’ French colonial legacy raises its head in unexpected ways, baguettes, pastis, boulodromes and the red topped kilometre stones familiar to anyone who has driven across France - or across Laos.

French style kilometre stone, Route 13

After an hour and a quarter we detoured down a side road towards the village of Houei Tomo (or Houaytomo) and the temple of Oup (or Oum) Mong (or Muang or Muong) which was lost and rediscovered in the early 20th century. There is no agreed transliteration from Lao to English and multiple spellings are common.

A short walk from the road in a patch of woodland near the river is a 10th century Khmer temple. Probably built as a resthouse for visitors to the much larger Wat Phou (next post) it almost certainly Khmer, but there is very little left, mainly moss covered stones among the trees....

Oup Mong, moss covered stone among the trees

... though one recognisable building remains.

Oup Mong - the one remaining recognisable building

We had the place to ourselves, and as such it is atmospheric, but there was little to see and much work for archaeologists when they get round to this site.

Oup Mong, much work for archaeologists

We continued north. From Vientiane to beyond Savannakhet the Mekong divides Laos from Thailand, but north of Pakse the river takes a south-easterly turn while the border continues south leaving a wedge of Laos to the west of the river and Champasak was on the western bank.

We left Route 13 and made our way down to a small ferry, where we crossed the river while Ging and the driver returned to Pakse for the night.

Our cases are carried aboard the Champasak ferry

We disembarked, climbed up some steps and there was our hotel.


Thailand and Laos

Sunday 15 November 2015

Around the Bolaven Plateau, Part 9 of Thailand and Laos

A Rural Plateau where Ethnic Minorites Form the Majority

An Unsuccessful Early Morning Walk

Laos

We rose early and in the gentle morning sunshine set off to walk to the Tad Lo waterfall. Rather than strike out into the thick jungle we made for the road thinking that it must cross the river and we could orientate ourselves from the bridge. The locals were up and about and everyone we met gave us a smile and a cheery sabadi. Disappointingly, the road took a twist in the opposite direction and seemed reluctant to twist back;so we returned to the lodge for breakfast.

Up at 7 o'clock on a bright, clean Bolaven morning

While we were eating, a young man with a jaunty hat approached us and introduced himself as Ging, our guide for the next few days. He outlined our programme and we were pleased to find it accorded completely with our expectations – a new experience in southern Laos.

An Elephant Ride

But before setting out to explore the plateau we had an appointment with an elephant. Lynne was wary; on our last Lao elephant ride the beast had been fractious and when we discovered our route involved wading for a couple of hundred metres through the clear, warm, waist-deep waters of the Nam Khan River my wife became a little stressed. Sensible as I always am, I welcomed the river; a grumpy elephant cannot bolt and wade at the same time – but then I am not the one with the irrational fear of water.

Lynne sent Ging to tell the mahout she would only go if he guaranteed no water. Once reassured, we climbed onto the gantry, the elephant was led up and we eased ourselves into the rickety howdah. There was no safety bar but perversely this made Lynne happier as she felt less trapped.

Safe and secure up here, Tad Lo

The elephant plodded off towards the waterfall, taking the jungle paths we had earlier eschewed. They were narrow at ground level….

The path is narrow on the ground

… and often non-existent at our height, so we brushed through the leaves and branches.

There is no path up here!

The path rose steadily and was often rough but the elephant was sure-footed and amenable, responding instantly to the slightest touch from the mahout. We soon reached the falls.

The Tad Lo Falls from elephant back

After the falls we passed a man tending his vegetable patch and arrived at the road we walked along earlier. It was hardly busy but our elephant clearly disliked motor vehicles and was nervous even before two lads went past on a motorcycle, deliberately revving the engine. The mahout skilfully calmed the nervous animal.

A man tending his vegetable patch, Tad Lo

Over the road we plodded through a hamlet...

Hamlet, Tad Lo

…where tobacco and chillies lay drying in the sun…

Tobacco and chillies drying in the sun, Tad Lo

…and children played with plastic bottles and old tyres.

Child playing with an old tyre, Tad Lo

Then we reached a small lake and the elephant headed straight for the water. The mahout spun round, ‘only drink, only drink,’ he said with alarm in his voice. We wondered what Ging had said to him, but he had clearly made the point. And indeed the elephant did only drink, sucking up water and squirting it into his mouth. The evening had been cool and morning gently warm, but it was now undeniably hot and we did not begrudge a well-earned drink. We would have preferred it, though, if he had not spent the rest of the walk waving his trunk around and showering us with water/elephant snot.

We continued through more jungle. At one point the mahout stuck his hand into a tree and seemed to break off a twig. Then we realised that dangling from his thumb and forefinger was a stick insect almost as long as his arm. When we had taken a good look he leaned over and hooked it into another tree.

A huge stick insect dangles from between forefinger and thumb

We had been out for over an hour by the time we returned to the lodge. We promptly set off again, this time by car for a tour of the Bolaven Plateau, avoiding a family of pigs as we went.

Avoiding a family of pigs, near Tad Lo

Visiting the Katu People

The Lao are, of course, the majority ethnic group in Laos, but the country is shared by 160 different ethnic groups, some of them very small, speaking 82 distinct languages. On the Bolaven Plateau the Laven (after whom it is named), Alak, Taoy, Suay and Katu together easly outnumber the Lao.

We dropped in on a Katu village 30 minutes from Tad Lo. Some 20,000 Katu live in Laos and 60,000 more in Vietnam.

At the roadside market our driver bought a large bag of wild mushrooms to take home. Meanwhile Ging paid a small fee and we walked away from the road and into the village, pausing first at the coffins. All villages keep at least two ready at all times, an ornate one for a village leader, and a plainer one for anybody else.

Katu coffins, Bolaven Plateau

The village was not a great advertisement for Katu life. The houses were ramshackle and broken down.....

Katu village, Bolaven Plateau

....filthy children, the youngest naked, played in the dirt while the women lounged on doorsteps smoking large wooden water pipes.

‘They all smoke,’ Ging said with distaste, 'even the children.'

Ging with Katu women and children
The woman in the centre is smoking a water pipe, tobacco is drying on the mat in front of the hut

To be fair, though, none of the children asked for anything, not money, not pens, not even sweets. The young man below did ask to have his photograph taken but that was a request I was happy to oblige.

Katu boy, Bolaven Plateau
He asked for the photo, then came over all shy but was thrilled when I showed him the picture

There were few men around, presumably they were out working, but well-tended vegetable plots were dotted around the village.

In the main square a group of girls were playing a game involving flicking a small stick out of the dust with a longer stick. Sometimes the small stick was caught, in one case with impressive athleticism, sometimes it landed on the ground. They measured the distance using lengths of the larger stick. The rules seemed elaborate, but everyone understood what they were supposed to do.

Main square, Katu village
I watched the game, then they packed up, then I got my camera out - not my finest moment

Katus in Laos speak Low Katu, one of the fifteen languages which make the Katuic branch of the Austroasiatic language family. There are by 1.3 million Katuic speakers across South East Asia.

Visiting an Alak Village

It was only a short journey to an Alak village. There are only 4,000 Alaks, all of whom live around the Bolaven Plateau and speak a language belonging to the Bahnaric branch of the Austroasiatic family. I find it remarkable that 4,000 people have their own language and even more remarkable that their nearest neighbour’s language is as different as German is to Italian. Odder still, Lao, the national language, is from a different family entirely and is no more closely related to Katu or Alak then it is to Swahili or Swedish.

Alak petrol station, Bolaven Plateau

We parked beside the petrol station and walked into the village. Like the Katu village it was off the road but instead of dirt and bustle, everything here was tidy, well-looked after (I must resist the temptation to call them the Smart Alaks) and largely deserted – during daytime the inhabitants were busy being industrious elsewhere.

Alak village, Bolaven Palteau

Alaks are animists and the focal point of the village is a carved wooden hall where the sick isolate themselves to be tended by the village shaman.

Medicine hall, Alak village, Bolaven Plateau

Once his potions and incantations have worked, a buffalo is sacrificed amid rejoicing and celebration. An area to the side of the square is reserved for this around a ceremonial pole from which hangs a symbolic stairway to heaven.

Ceremonial pole, Alak village, Bolaven Plateau

We wandered past neat houses and vegetable plots but here nobody came to talk to us. We did meet one local who clearly thought he was the village chief - and beautiful to boot. We negotiated our way round his ego and left.

Am I not beautiful? Alak village, Bolaven Plateau

Multi-Ethnic Market

Five minutes driving took us to a crossroads where there was a sprawling market with permanent stalls. It was not attached to any village or settlement and was presumably used by locals of all ethnic groups. We walked through the food section among things familiar and unfamiliar. Sausages, kebabs and the usual array of spatchcocked frogs, chickens and rats lay ready for the barbecue. Ging bought some eggs on skewers.

 
Ready for the barbecue, Bolaven Plateau

We saw dried squid, which is popular in Vietnam (where these presumably came from) but rare in landlocked Laos and wondered at strips of buffalo hide. People chew them, Ging said, when working in the fields. They did not look appealing, but then I have never understood the attraction of chewing gum, either.

Dried squid and buffalo hide, Bolaven Plateau

Rather more familiar were bundles of asparagus, a crop I associate with more temperate climes, like the Vale of Evesham, or even our home turf in north Staffordshire.

Asparagus and other fruit and veg, Bolaven Plateau

It was not all food. Other human requirements were catered for including motorcycles, hand powered mills and electric fans.

Assorted hardware, Bolaven Plateau

As we drove off Ging shared out the eggs. A hole had been made in the pointed end, the contents removed and beaten with herbs and seasoning and poured back in. The egg was then placed in a steamer and the result was a tasty snack. [I have since tried the process at home, and it works].

An egg, formerly on a stick

Sinouk Coffee Estate and Resort

The French introduced coffee to Vietnam (most of the instant coffee sold in the UK is Vietnamese) and when they found they were getting a minimal return from the land-locked part of their Indo-Chinese empire, they tried coffee in Laos too. It failed down by the Mekong but adapted readily to the Bolaven Plateau and we called at the Sinouk Coffee Plantation and Resort for lunch.

The restaurant spilled out onto a shady terrace. While Lynne drank noodle soup and I ate pork and ginger we watched children playing in the garden and considered the contrast between these privileged youngsters running around on a lawn and the filthy children of the Katu families playing in the dirt just a few miles away.

 
Having lunch at the Sinouk Coffee Plantation and Resort

After we had eaten – and of course, finished our meal with an excellent coffee - we strolled round the gardens. We inspected the coffee bushes and Ging pointed out the differences between varieties, Arabica, Robusta and the rarer Excelsa.

Ging among the coffee bushes, Sinouk Coffee Plantation and Resort

We have seen coffee before but this was, I think, the first time we had seen it in flower.

Coffee flowers, Sinouk Coffee Plantation and Resort

The garden contained plenty of other spectacular flowers…

In the garden, Sinouk Coffee Plantation and Resort

….and a couple of impressive water features.

Sinouk Coffee Plantation and Resort

Before leaving we dropped into the shop and made the inevitable purchases.

Sinouk Coffee Plantation and Resort

Tad Fan

Continuing round the plateau for forty minutes brought us to Tad Fan (or ‘Fane’ or ‘Fang’). For a small fee we walked through a hotel/coffee house and perched on their viewing platform to see the joint highest waterfalls in Laos dropping 120m to the valley below. Despite appearances they are on two different streams which only meet at the base of the cliff, making them two separate waterfalls with only one name (but several spellings).

Tad Fan, Bolaven Plateau

Back Down to Route 13 in the Mekong Valley

From Tad Fan we descended towards Route 13 which had brought us south from Vientiane, but reaching it was not the end of the day’s driving. Si Phan Don (Four Thousand Islands), our destination for the night, was still a couple of hours to the south. Darkness fell at about 5.30 with dramatic suddenness, no messing with twilight here. Our driver put on his lights, but not all drivers seemed to think it was necessary.

Driving towards Route 13

4,000 Islands (Si Phan Don)

In the last 20Km before the Cambodian border the Mekong spreads out to a width of over 8km to form an area of rapids, waterfalls, placid pools and many, many islands (though 4,000 is poetic licence.) We crossed the new road bridge onto Don Khong, the largest island and soon reached the largest settlement where we checked into the hotel.

Round the Bolaven Plateau and Down to Si Phan Don

Our comfortable third floor room (a lift would have been nice) had a riverside balcony and we ate in the hotel restaurant on decking above the river. Our red curries were seriously under-chillied in deference to the believed preference of the largely western clientele.

A group of a dozen or so bikers – middle aged men of various European nationalities – sat at a long table behind us. Interested to find out who they were and where they were going we interrogated the man in the Welsh Rugby shirt – well who else? They were, we learned, a pan-European group put together by a specialist Austrian tour company and had not known each before the start of the trip, though they seemed to have gelled well. They had started in Bangkok on hired bikes and were headed for Beijing; we wished them well.