It was over a month since we got our first glimpse of the Mekong at Chiang Kong, Thailand. In the morning mist and the clouds of smoke it appeared like a northern Italian river, one of the Po tributaries, lost in the fog. The source of this majestic river lies in the Chinese Yunnan region. And within this region the Mekong passes from childhood to adolescence, from an unruly stream to the mighty river which becomes the backbone of the Indochinese peninsula. Then it enters into Laos, and becomes wider at every bend. It continues growing throughout Laos, where it marks the border with Thailand. When we first saw it, the sight was impressive. It was wider than any river I had ever seen, double the Thames at the Barrier. And yet it was only a young adult. In every city I saw the Mekong grow, to the extent that sometimes I couldn’t even glimpse the opposite bank. But the most impressive sight was Si Phan Don, or Four Thousand Islands. On the far south of Laos, the Mekong widens to host this myriad of sandbanks and islets, some no bigger than a dining table, some large. The Mekong is kilometers wide, its deep emerald colour and slow-flowing water resembling a lake or an inland sea. It is reaching maturity, but it is still hundreds of miles away from its demise in the South China Sea.
Three islands are inhabited; we decided to visit Don Det, the one with the cheapest accommodation. Scores of huts line the edges of the island, offering views on the river.We chose the aptly-named Peace and Love. Life couldn’t be more relaxed on Don Det. Days are spent lying on hammocks or stilted platforms over the river, with a book and a fruit shake, jumping in the Mekong when the heat gets unbearable. Meanwhile, on the roads life goes on as ever. Hens and chicks scurry under the stilted houses, perhaps trying to avoid the chop. Children tease pet monkeys, grannies chew betel nuts and street vendors make their rounds in conical hats. The place where we stayed had a crowd of long-term travellers, drawn in by the peace of the island. We spent some nights with them, celebrating birthdays and departures, dancing with the villagers.The first night we were there, the family prepared a 'western style meal' to celebrate one of the guests' birthday, under the direction of other guests. On the menu were barbecued chicken and beef, coleslaw and potato salad. It was funny to notice how some Laotians refused to eat potato salad, as it was made with unpeeled new potatoes. They were absolutely horrified by the idea of eating potato skin... in a country where deep-fried chicken claws, duck embryos and raw beef heart soaked in blood are a delicacy, one frowns at potato skin? The things you learn travelling.
We were very lucky to take part in a Baci ceremony. A Laotian tradition, these ceremonies originate from animistic tribes, but are also performed by the Buddhist majority. Indeed, Buddhists have incorporated some spiritual beliefs in their tradition. During Baci, spirits are summoned and conveyed onto the participants for good luck. The women of the family built an intricated conical structure made with pleated banana leaves, decorated with flowers. They also made bracelets with white string, and tied them onto sticks which were placed together with the banana leaf cone. The celebrant offered the cone to the spirits, then tied bracelets on our wrists wishing us good luck, good travels and hoping to see us again. Before, during and after, the Lao Lao flowed. For those who don't know, Lao Lao is a sort of local moonshine made with rice. It is absolutely disgusting. Unfortunately, refusing Lao Lao is considered offensive.
We spent our last day in Laos cycling around the island and from there to Don Khon, a quieter island just south of Don Det almost in Cambodian waters. The islands were as quiet as ever. Don Khon was less built up than Don Det, but in my opinion it was less scenic and atmospheric. The draw there was taking a boat trip at sunset, with the possibility of viewing the endangered Irrawaddy dolphins. We were lucky to meet a group we had dinner with in Pakse, and share the boat with them. The small motorized canoe zipped across the island, traversing rapids and narrow waterways. The trip was beautiful, although the water level was extremely low and we bumped the bottom of the boat a couple of times. We reached a wider bay dotted with small islets. With the sun going down and everything taking a pinkish tinge, the scenery was breathtaking. We kept our eyes peeled for dolphins... and there they were. As quick as lightning, a dolphin surfaced; in a split second it was gone again. We were able to spot a few, elusive yet enchanting. Everything happened far too quickly for a picture. We considered ourselves lucky, though; there is less than a dozen dolphins left in these waters.
And with the sight of these elusive creatures, we bade farewell to Laos. the following day we headed for Cambodia, land of horror and beauty.
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