Over never-ending mountains in search of Laos’ Plain of Jars

My first view of Laos - Rice paddies & mountains

After an exhausting century to reach the Laos border I was happy to have a slow start to the morning, getting to the Laos border at 7:30am under the already stifling sun. Arriving on a push bike seemed to confuse the border officials and they came out to check it out. 4 officials processed my Visa for $36, $1 more than the advertised rate – not much of a bribe there when split 4 ways! On the other side of the border they were gearing up for a big party with tables laid out for various suited dignitaries yet to arrive and music already pumping out of a sound system. Sadly, in my sweaty lycra I didn’t get an invite and instead had to drag myself up a 14% incline on a rough road – welcome to Laos! The roads were better than the mud baths of Vietnam but still narrow, winding, undulating and broken up in places. However there was a lot less traffic, if fact in this relatively underdeveloped corner of Laos most vehicles seemed to be Toyota 4x4s driven by overweight officials or businessmen.

Heading uphill again!

Everything in Laos appears simpler and more laidback. Children in back-to-back villages smile and say hello (or bye bye) but mostly stand and stare from their thatch houses that line the road all the way up the valley wherever rice farming is possible. I’ve a lot less distance to cover today so take regular rests as the road winds up 2 big, steep climbs to Viang Xai, however, by the time I arrive at 12:30pm I’m already broken and take a 15 minute nap in the shade to recover. Once recovered I head to the market for a hearty beef noodle soup for $1 which refuels and rehydrates me with its lovely salty broth.

Viang Xai only recently became a sizeable settlement; during the war the surrounding caves were used to house the PDR movement, including all its departments, hidden from regular US bombardment that still scars the land today. They’ve done a great job of promoting the area with a very informative visitor centre (with free water!) and guided tours of the surrounding caves narrated, via headphones, by survivors from the war. People walked for months, across rugged mountains, under heavy aerial bombardment to join the rebellion here. Pre-existing limestone caves were extended and the Russians provided bomb-proof technology and air pumps for emergency rooms for the key officials. The countryside around here holds thousands of stories; sadly I couldn’t stay to hear them all and got back on my bike in the mid afternoon heat to race a British motorcyclist to Sam Neua 40 km up the road. He thinks I’m mad, but I followed him into town less than an hour after he arrived; his claims of crazy steep and winding roads were unfounded after what I’d already been through.

Surviving on the road - I thought they were crisps but
 instead they are tasty reconstituted vegetables

Sam Neua was literally littered with newly built hotels and I picked up a big room in a plush hotel for less that $10 – it even had a lift to save my weary legs and chilled water in the hallways. Clearly the attitude is “Build and they will come” as Sam Neua had little other than a bustling local market, a couple of communist style monuments and rugged mountains all around. I happened to meet Laos’ foremost microfinance expert over dinner, a German guy who lived with his family in Vientiane and toured the country helping out on different projects. It appears development is happening fast in Laos, but is benefitting few of the locals as the government sell off Laos natural assets to the highest bidder. Improvements in rural and urban areas are normally driven by foreign aid rather than from central government and the proliferation of expensive 4x4s is evidence that a small group of the population is doing very well out of the status quo.

Beautiful hills riding out the town of Sam Neua

Riding out of Sam Neua early the next morning I climbed 3,000ft through the clouds, passing locals walking from the town to their fields several km up the mountain. In the cool morning air they seemed content in their labours. Reaching the ridge the views were stunning with forest clad valleys and mountain tops all around shrouded in thick white cloud. My (useless) map had suggested a 1,500ft climb straight out of Sam Neua and then a long ride high up in the mountains, hopefully traversing from ridge to ridge. However, instead I’m launched straight down steep switchbacks exactly to the altitude I started, 1,500ft below. The day continues in the same vain on a narrow road that’s never flat; even downhill it’s impossible to rest as you never know if the road will be washed out round the next corner or you might be presented with a herd of water buffalo. 

Waterfalls at the side of the road out of Sam Neua

Finding food appears almost impossible, the best I can do is Pepsi from roadside stalls in the plentiful villages. I need to learn some Lao food words as I can’t get the nourishment I need and am instead left limping along burning my (substantial) fat reserves. My bottle of powdered “Tang” (powdered sugary drink) proves useful as I swallow dry mouthfuls to keep my sugar levels up. The one word I have learnt is “sabahdee” (hello) but even the friendly greetings from villagers does little to spur me on as I’m forced to dig deep through lunch. I also quickly learn that yellow signs with numbers mean get ready for “x” km of steep uphill (or downhill). I take a short break at some roadside falls but it’s too early for the little restaurants to be open. As the day progresses it only gets hotter and the undulating road prevents me from getting any sort of rhythm, every time I feel I’m over the worst of it the road rears up again. I end up taking 2 minute breaks for every 200ft of altitude gained. Finally, the road descends for 6km into Phoulao, a town that should be near my destination but is of course not even marked on my map.

May as well use those used missiles instead
of a fence then the neighbour won't argue

Hitting what looks like a major junction I head left which would appear to be the right way for Phonsavan though there’s no sign of my intended overnight stop at Nam Noen. After a couple of km, the road plunges down, and with no sign of settlement I’m not willing to take the risk if there’s no hotel at the bottom. Instead, I collapse by a hut overlooking the deep valley and wait for somebody to pass that I can ask. After 15 minutes nobody’s arrived so I turn and head back to the previous junction and of course immediately bump into two guys on a moto; There followed a hilarious conversation conducted, mostly via sign language, in the middle of the road where I find out there are 2 guesthouses, one in Phoulao back near the junction and one (way) down the hill in Nam Noen (my map was wrong again). I head for Nam Noen following the moto through crazy switchbacks as the road plunges 1,500ft downhill in about 5km to small town bridging a river.

You don't want to mis-judge cycling downhill on the road into
Nam Noen, verticle drop with zero barrier

My luxury accommodation in Nam Noen, complete
with candles rather than electrics

The day’s been brutal – 7,200ft of climbing in only 62 miles at 8.7mph – by far the steepest and slowest day ever and way harder than anything in America. All I want to do is find the guesthouse and get some food. However, at first I can’t find any guesthouse and only on the 2^nd pass through town do I find a fallen down, rusted sign next to a run-down building that appeared boarded up and deserted. Contemplating the climb back up the hill I sit lost beside the road and finally catch a break as a moto driver stops and asks in English if he can help. He fetching the guesthouse “owner” from the market and she opens up to show me round the run down house. No electricity, windows and a sanitary condition that suggested it may have been closed for a few years, it was at least a cheap ($5) place to sleep for the night. The friendly lady showed me around and handed me candles for later as there was no electricity – fortunately, by the time the sun set I was ready to sleep! I finally get some food, sitting down next to the local monk to devour beef noodle soup, omelette and beef fried rice – the chef thought I was crazy but I could have eaten more.

Combined shower & toilet facilities

I guess I won't be using the kitchen then

Another misty morning climbing out of Nam Noen

After 10 hours’ sleep my legs still felt heavy but I'm up at 6am with another long day ahead with plenty of climbing, starting with 3,000ft straight up from across the bridge. Cloud cover and high altitude kept the heat at bay as I climbed switchback after switchback up through a high pass into high mountain country. Thankfully here the roads did follow the ridges, never flat but never too steep, they traversed between the clouds trapped in each of the deep valleys. Simple thatch houses clung to the roadside, each with a stupendous view of verdant forests covered mountains out of their back verandas. 


At one point a village had turned the road into a go-kart track and I cycled uphill past gangs of giggling kids hurtling down in the other direction. It appeared that the villagers here had never seen white people; each time I stopped I was surrounded by dumbstruck kids who scattered if I took a step towards them. My presence even put a temporary halt to the go-karting.

Best road sign yet. haven't seen
that one in the highway code....

...but sure enough there were a bunch of ecstatic kids
running go-karts down the hill

Finally the road drops down into a beautiful wide valley

Finally after 6,000ft of climbing in under 50 miles, I started to see radio masts suggesting I was hitting the highest peaks and approaching the more developed area around Muang Kham. The road again plunged down for the first time in Laos revealing a wide, lush and productive valley below. At Muang Kham I hit the main highway to Phonsavan that bisects northern Laos; there were immediately more trucks and I shared a hearty lunch at a busy roadside stall with a couple of rotund businessmen who expressed disbelief at where I’d cycled from before jumping in their 4x4.

On a tough day I still had to
take a rest with only 6km left to go to Phonsavan

Unfortunately the flat plain didn’t last all the way to Phonsavan and I was soon climbing under the searing sun up onto the Plateau that contained the plain of jars. The busier road did bring with it some different culinary delights and I was ecstatic to find some donuts on the market at Nong Pet. Rolling towards Phonsavan I was almost broken and had to take a break with just 6km to go, a time I’d normally be pushing on to the finish. After a record 9.200ft of climbing in 89 miles, I promised myself a rest day off the bike, the first for 8 days, found a hotel and quickly got some food. With this being a tourist town and white people everywhere I was able to share a conversation again and was hopeful of even finding some nightlife. However, I retained my knack of finding comfortable but very quiet accommodation and struggled to find anybody to drink with eventually giving up entirely.

During the night I woke to find that my body also felt that I needed a day off and, not being privy to my decision to take it easy, it kindly gave me the shits. Without being able to retain water all day it was pointless for me to try to get out to the plain of jars and instead I was confined to my quiet hotel. At least there was plenty of food nearby to help me convalesce; over lunch at “Craters, a bar surrounded by empty shells, I met three guys who were riding around Laos in sidecar motor bikes. They were a lot of fun and were able to give me the lowdown on most of the roads I’d be facing ahead. Stories of iffy river crossings in the dry season and dirt tracks through the jungle sounded cool but crossed a few route options off my list.

Just over a week after setting out from Sapa, I was physically broken and likely a lot lighter – cycling in South East Asia could be recommended as a crash course diet. In just 3 days in Laos I’d clocked up 21,664ft of climbing in only 208 miles, averaging a paltry 9mph. However, the worst was probably behind me and at least now I’d learnt how to ask for noodle soup in Lao.

Instead of doing all this cycling simply for fun I'm also raising money for the North Staffs Adventure Playground where my handicapped sister used to attend. They continue to do great work with handicapped and special needs kids and adults in the local area and woulld really benefit from any donations. Thanks to all those who have already sponsored me and contributed to the North Staffs Adventure Playground - I'm hoping to hit 1000 pounds so please donate using the following link:

http://www.justgiving.com/BigRedOnABike