River Xong

A public bus transported our little crew (consisting of, in addition to the original quintet, Australian cousins Julie and Lyn and their husbands Gordon and Trevor, headed by tourleader Gong from Bangkok) from Vientiane to Vang Vieng, the Queenstown of Laos. As such, the bus was filled with more backpackers than what would be a healthy dose, some of them more hygienic than others. Smelly McFartypants added an extra dimension to the journey. Luckily I sat quite a few rows away from him, but others (eg Isa, who seems to always get the short straw when it comes to adjecent people with musky smells) had to deal with an endless stream of unwelcome servings of intestinal byproducts.
Ah, yes; Vang Vieng. The Queenstown of Laos, indeed, what with the rock climbing, the kayaking, the mountain biking and the river rafting. But also the Nimbin of SE Asia, what with the weed and the relaxed approach to it and all. Almost every bar/restaurant has their low tables on platforms, making you essentially sit on a raised floor, which is very relaxing and hard to fall down from. They also have tv:s showing DVDs on endless repeat of American comedy shows (I would estimate ca 80% Friends, 15% Family guy, 3% South Park and 2% others), making it easy to relax and have a laugh. And of course, the relaxing, the giggles and the not falling off chairs is due to catering to those who order from the special menus: Happy this and magic that, including straight out joints of weed and opium-laced cigarettes.
The special menus are the main reason why Vang Vieng's most popular activity is so hazardous. Tubing, in and of itself, is one of the most harmless things you can do. Gently floating down the stream on an inflatable rubber ring, taking in the scenery and just chilling out can, and should, be done by anyone; children and elderly and everybody in between. Add low water and unpredictable rocks, however, and scratches and bruises might come, add high water and the currents become tricky. Add water slides, jumping towers, zip lines and tarzan swings, and even the best of us can get a mishap, or accident even. Add bars with cheap beer and free shots, and the risk of getting seriously injured gets ever more present. And that was as far as I went. Those who have died while tubing in Laos have, to a very high extent, indulged in something from the special menus.
But since I didn't, I survived, and was ready for another day, this time of the more Queenstown and less Nimbin variety.
A longshaw picked us up and drove the bumpy, unfinished and incredibly dusty roads upriver, where a short trek took us to a cosy little village, with fowl and lifestock happily trotting about. On with the headtorches and into the tubes we got, grabbing hold of the rope and pulling ourselves into the depth of mountain. Underground tubing is a great way of exploring the plentiful limestone caves in the area. Even though the bats were unpresent and the water a bit chilly, it was still a cool experience.
Some caves don't have rivers in them, and are easily accesible by foot. In those cases, the locals aren't late to make a temple out of them, especially if one of the stalagmites kinda sorta resembles an elephant.
To get back to Vang Vieng, one could choose the waterway, and so down Nam Xong we kayaked, without capseys... kapsize... quapseis... tipping over. Gently taking in the breathtaking Laotioan landscape, we floated downstream, past the tubing bars we had frequented the day before and eventually, after a beer- and pastis break at Slingshot bar, getting back to Vang Vieng town.
Unfortunately, the days went by too quickly and the wheels on the bus wanted to go round and round, thus forcing us to leave this cosy, relaxed and very cool little town and head on, journeywise.