From the comfort of a hotel room, with plush bedding, an adjoining restaurant, a beautiful swimming pool and the luxury of time to sit and reflect, once again I ask myself if I was a fool to take the boat?
And the answer, as I wrote before, remains ‘no’.
Let’s unpack this a bit. Whilst I’m writing from my own experience, and am pleased I took the plunge (not literally), I still understand that not every individual might be able to cope with this kind of trip. And it wouldn’t surprise me to hear reactions to the trip that range from ‘This was not for me” to ‘This was hell on water.”
But, personally, whilst it was tough, for me it was a real experience and I suppose that was what I was looking for. Combined with the overnight stop in Pak Beng where I ended up sleeping in a dormitory with nine 20-somethings (clean, basic, ten beds, laid out next to each other, in a spartan room which reminded me of a sanitorium with two adjoining showers) it was like nothing I’d done in years. And whilst it’s been a long time since I slept dormitory-style, I slept well and the shared shower was decent!
The alternative to taking the slow boat up the Mekong is either to take an air-con minivan or to journey on to Vientiane (the capital) then jump on the high-speed train or take a quick flight. And for anyone who values convenience, comfort and their time, any of these three alternatives is the way to go.
But I am a great believer in slow travel. Overland travel - where you aren’t catapulted from one part of the globe to another in a steel tube in hours, or whisked up a track on a high-speed train that local Laotians can’t afford to take.
The slow boat gave me time to think, to contemplate, to reflect. On Day One, that contemplation was more of the ‘how beautiful, how serene, how extraordinary this all is.’
Day Two was entirely different. It left me humbled and grateful. Humbled at the local Laotians who sat on the floor of the boat for hours, not once complaining. And grateful for what I have - the time and money to travel the world, a profession that I don’t just make money from but I actually enjoy and the sense of freedom - to be a solo woman, on the road, with no-one to hold me back and a credit card and stash of US dollars for emergencies.
Laos is one of the poorest spots on earth and I’ll address this at greater length in future posts…and the resources I have as an educated, Western woman are something I occasionally take for granted. In this part of South East Asia, I can’t and I won’t.
The slow boat along the Mekong might have been an adventure for me (for better and worse) but for many it’s public transport, the only means of travelling between villages and to bigger towns. When I saw an elderly man on the boat struggling with a huge bag, an exhausted-looking woman holding a baby or teenagers by the engine joking around to pass time, I had to remind myself that - for me - this was nothing more than a fleeting moment in my trip.
The truth is that I will not take the boat again - because I don’t have to. It was an experience, one of many I’ve had whilst travelling around the world. But it will never have to be my ‘daily/weekly/monthly commute’ since I have choices most Laotians don’t.
And that I should not take for granted.
So I say, to any wavering traveller, ‘Do it. Take the slow boat.’ Because it will give you perspective; a deeper understanding of how many people in developing countries live. You’ll see locals at the side of the river living in conditions you could never have imagined, and children with no shoes, trying to sell you wristbands (as the boat makes its endless stops) for a few cents. These are children that should be in school.
Instead they’re trying to bring money home so their families can eat dinner.
Take the slow boat. Not just for the adventure, but for the opportunity to be appreciative of all that you have. But - and take it from me - please carry several litres of water and a medical kit!