Forty-eight hours in Vang Vieng

Curiosity got the better of me when I booked a ticket to Vang Vieng.

I'd heard plenty of stories about the place about three hours north of the Laos capital Vientiane - a place of excessive drug taking and drinking; bar hopping while floating along a river in an inflatable tube. Stories about people dying or getting seriously injured.

I told myself I'd stay away. It wouldn't be my scene, I thought to myself.

I was right.

Getting on the local bus, I was hoping to find other travellers to talk with or at least be with when we were scheduled to arrive  in Vang Vieng about 12.30am. I was out of luck. The bus, as the name suggests, was full of locals and none, it turned out were getting off at Vang Vieng. Though I didn't see why any of them would. The town, in recent years anyway, has been overrun by westerners seeking the seemingly simple thrill of floating down the river while drunk.

Every seat in the bus was more than full (folding chairs and stools were placed in the aisle for a few extra seats, but more on this in another post) and from what I gathered, everyone was heading to Vientiane. When I told the young woman sitting next to me I was heading to Vang Vieng her face was a mix of surprise and shock as if to say "why on earth would you want to go there?"  

What I found in Vang Vieng was a lesson in youthful excess which made me feel much older than my 23 years. (I'm really an old man at heart.)

In the morning and into the early afternoon people sat in restaurants with low wooden platforms and small tables and pillows which were playing either back-to-back episodes of Friends or Family Guy. Many, I imagine, were nursing cuts, bruises and hangovers while drinking fruit shakes and eating food.

It seems to be a town which can keep people in its grip and keep them in a vicious cycle of tubing during the day, drinking at night, nursing the hangover then doing it all again.

One of the girls we met had been in town for three weeks. She was working for one of the local bars which ply free buckets of alcohol and mixers to travellers by directing foot traffic to it. She was paid in alcohol and food and took care of her own accommodation.

There is more to do in this town though and you don't have to look far. Kayaking, rock climbing, trekking. I set my sights on a kayaking, tubing and caving day trip which inadvertently gave me a feel for what the drunk tubing experience would be like. Albeit at different times of the day. The tubing was 350 metres through a cave. Headlamps lighting the way, we entered the cave through a small gap between water and cave roof and we pulled ourselves along a rope to as far as we could go. I felt like an undercover agent on a mission to blow something up. Doing this was more dangerous during the rainy season, our guide Mr Sing told us. Mostly because of flash floods which could increase the river levels at a moments notice.      

During the kayaking leg, we stopped at one of the riverside bars which tubers can stop at. One of the workers throws a full water bottle tied to a rope to pull in those wanting to take a break from the river. We, however, pull up on the side of the bank and climb up the stairs. The bar has a good crowd of people and also a trapeze swing over the river for patrons to jump in. One of the staff, an older, balding Laos man, pulled the swing in  using a rope while another threw a semi-inflated rubber ring to pull in each jumper.

The bars themselves, about 6 in total, are semi-permanent structures made of wood and built along the banks of the river. Each has a different vibe or thing to do. The bar we stopped at had a beer pong table, a basketball hoop and was covered in different coloured spraypaint. Another bar we kayaked past looks closed, but had a giant metal water slide which would launch the person into the river.

For some this will be the last high they will ever experience. Estimates on the casualty rate each year from tubing varies, but travellers do die or are seriously injured while tubing.

During the rainy season the river levels are high enough that revellers can jump and dive without hitting the rocks below the surface. But this day I still saw rocks and debris rise up above the water and act as a reminder of what is lurking under the river's murky, fast flowing, surface. The problem comes during the dry season when river levels are lower. That and the combination of a sense of drunken invincibility and sometimes an overestimation of swimming ability (A drunk tuber had told a friend he did not know how to swim).

Perhaps this pessimistic view comes from my own realistic estimation of swimming abilities and a healthy respect for any natural body of water.

Despite all this though, I can see the appeal for some people and the reason so many young (though not exclusively) travellers make the pilgrimage to Vang Vieng. If I were a few years younger and was in the right state of mind I'd probably give it a shot and have a great time, too.

Such are the perils of being an old man at heart.

  

Posted in: Laos,tubing,vang vieng