Misty Mountain Majesty

Today has been a day of contrasts.

I packed up from a hostel in Luang Prabang, which turns out to be quite a tourist town.  Walking out of the hotel I found a young Chinese couple leaning on my bike for a photo!  They were a bit shocked to get caught by the owner, I think, but I encouraged the “photographee” to in fact get on the bike for a more dramatic shot.  She was beyond delighted.

Thanks to the tourist traffic there’s a lot of Western food options, and I felt like an egg and bacon breakkie, which was washed down with an almost-drinkable latte.  A Swiss guy Mikael was sitting at the next table struck up conversation, asking about my bike.  He’s been living in China and married to a local for the last decade and a half.  Mikael has invited me to his place, but I think it’s a bit off route.  We’ll see.  Thanks anyway, Mikael!

I got back to my bike to find a few more tourists fawning over it.  Again, they were beside themselves to have permission to sit and pose for photos, preferring to include the owner.  It really has does cause some excitement.  Even just riding past most kids spontaneously wave at me, and usually break out into the most glorious, sunny smile when I wave back heartily.

On the ride out of Luang Prabang I’d pegged in a stop at a local waterfall.  That was a dismal failure as the river water was flat and calm as anything.  No waterfall in sight.  Still a pretty spot, though.  And while there wasn’t a “waterfall”, there was a boat that was a bit “waterfull”, if I can play a bit with the words.  I’d wondered if the long, skinny local boats ever capsized, and here was a crew of a dozen or so labouring loudly to pull one upside down craft out, full and overflowing with river.  Wondering – answered.

The next hour or so of ride was pretty tame and uneventful, except for stumbling across an actual waterfall a bit further on.  I can’t quite fathom why the handful of people at the local restaurant thought that the peaceful secluded natural environment needed music blasting so loud that surely Melbourne could hear it 9,000 km away.  But other than that, it was a great little diversion on a day when slow progress was what the schedule ordered.

It was a bit disconcerting shortly after to find a necessary left-hand turn blocked, with a menacing Laos-only road sign glaring at me.  Google Translate to the rescue, as always.  “Road closed for construction”.  Hmmm.  I wonder if I could sneak around the construction bits on my two wheels?  After deciding that there didn’t seem to be a viable alternate route from there, I gave the “closed” road a shot.  It was a little heart-warming to find I wasn’t the only one in either direction, but as the kilometres mounted I did have a niggling concern I might need a very long back-track.

I’m writing this post wild-camping a long way into the “road closed for construction”.  So if I find a blockage tomorrow I will most definitely be in a bind.  But I’m pretty sure I’ve got past the bits that were rumoured “closed”, and they did indeed turn out to be a pretty weak excuse for the construction sign.  So I’m glad I persisted from an itinerary and schedule perspective.

But even more than schedule, the ride since I ventured into the closed unknown has been breathtaking.  Winding up through glorious mountains, much of which were in (apparently constant) misty cloud cover, the scenery had me pulling over for photos at a great rate.  If I just judge by “photos per kilometre” then I’d have to guess that today’s has been the most beautiful ride of the whole trip so far.  And it lifts the soul.

I thought I was running a bit late to find a campsite, but wanted a bite of dinner first.  I happened across the quaintest little town nestled right in amongst towering cliffs, with a lazy little river meandering through.  One of the local restaurants had a series of little wooden huts and platforms built over the river, with a duckboard walkway between.  I sat right in the middle of the river on one such platform, eating a tasty fish of some description with sticky rice and raw.veggies, washed down with a blackcurrant cider.  Really quite idyllic.

Hitting the road again with only 30 minutes to sunset, I was actually pretty sure I’d need a hostel for tonight.  Setting up a tent in the dark is not on my “fun” list.  But a likely spot just off the main road jumped out at me a few minutes later, and with about 10 minutes of light I’ve put up my tent in record time.  Sitting down on the camp chair a moment later, I settled in to read Ephesians by torch light.  But rain started not 5 minutes after sun down, and I’ve been driven inside the very hot and stuffy tent to read for a bit and then write this journal.

With not much else to do I’ll call it a night now, and probably get an early start with sun-up.

NB: I’ve got a stack of photos which belong in this diary entry.  And thanks to Warwick’s great help I now have a path to get that sorted, but some admin to do before that’s possible.  Meantime a selection of those photos are available on Instagram “RideForHope” and synced across to my new-again Facebook, if you’re interested.