It is very very nice here at and around the Bolaven plateu. Terrific cycling area! Yesterday morning I made an excursion back to the waterfalls at Tad Fane. Lovely area with several small lakes and a sweet wooden bridge.
Then back to Paksong to pack up and leave for good. I headed for Thateng without knowing that there would be a geust house. If not I would have to push on another 50 k's to Sekong.
I like this not knowing for sure what will happen, where I will end up or what, where, and indeed if, I will eat. I hardly have a map of this area, and know precious little about what it will be like. I know it is coffee growing territory here, and I know it is somewhat tribal. The poeple here are not ordinary Lao, they are Laven. Bolaven means home of the Laven. I often think tribal will mean poor, maybe charming but also a bit backwards. Sad and desolate children.
Not so here! The area seems a good bit wealthier than in the lowlands. People have good houses. Most are traditional Lao wooden houses elevated on stilts, unpainted and undecorated, but looking fine. And there are quite a few beautiful stone houses as well. Painted and more decorated, obviously sturdier than wooden houses but not extravagantly large. Not the kind that makes you angry someone has robbed his neighbors blind and built a tasteless mansion in his own honour, but the kind that makes you glad for the family that has done well and can afford such a nice home.
Cycling Paksong to Thateng yesterday, and today to Sekong, has been nothing but divinely blissfull. It is an absolutely beautiful area. About a thousand meters up from the lowlands it is slightly cooler, fresher, and greener. Good road and little traffic, undulating landscape and very sweet people. Off in the backround are hills and crests. Birds singing, cows and dogs, and kids waving. I start talking to myself, saying 'Oh my god this is f-ing beautiful' and such. I even have to stop a few times and just take it all in, enjoy breathing the fresh air, thinking that this is one of the nicest cycling days I have ever had.
There are some mud trails you can take in the Bolaven, make a circular tour of it, cut straight through the jungle. I will not do that though. I took a picture of a map in Paksong, one that outlines a motorcycle trip one can buy. On the English side the eastern trail is marked as "difficul trail" (sic), and on the French one it says "piste interdite". Not really what I want. I also met a Swiss guy who had cycled it and said it was rough. Nine hours to the nearest guest house.
I will stick to the asphalt road. Ride up to Attapeu tomorrow than turn around next day and go back more or less the same way I came. I do this to enjoy it, and sister I can tell you, I do love this!
Thateng seems to have 4 or 5 guest houses. Sekong may have even more. But apart from meeting a couple on a motorbike I have not seen any other white faces around. Sekong has two petrol stations, three ATM machines and a nice vegetable market, where I bought a large watermelon, sliced up in perfect wedges, for one Euro. That has been my lunch, plus a packet of biscuits, a can of Nescafe and a small brickpack chocolate milk. I have my own second floor verandah in a garden. Life could have been worse.
Cycling baba, it's the shit!
No comments:
Post a Comment