Popular tourist trekking destinations such as Sapa in Vietnam and Chiang Mai in Thailand see hundreds of backpackers and holidaymakers trample their way through the surrounding hill-tribe villages every week. Many of these tours offer ‘homestays’, where you spend a night or two in the home of a local family.

Although these trips offer valuable insight into how the local people live and the booking agents do usually pay the host families a fair wage, the experience can be spoiled somewhat by the hordes of other tourists making their way along the same route. Fortunately, there are alternatives: travellers seeking a more authentic experience of glorious Southeast Asian countryside are increasingly looking to less commercial destinations, such as Laos, to satisfy their curiosity.

Hitting the Hills in the Saddle

While sauntering along the main street of the Laos’ most beautiful city, Luang Prabang, I came across a handful of adventure-tour booking agents scattered amongst the restaurants and cafés, offering biking, hiking and canoeing tours. Having been on a trek in Sapa, my best friend and I thought we’d try our hands at something different: mountain biking. When we enquired with one company as to whether they offered two-day trips, to our surprise, the agent called in a local guide who began to pour over a map of the region and tailor a route especially for us. We knew right away that this trip wasn’t going to be anything like the pre-packaged tour we’d experienced in Sapa. We went to bed that night feeling excited, if not slightly nervous, about what this new adventure might entail.

The next morning we helped two tour guides load a car with our bikes and gear and then drove into the country. The mountains were largely uninhabited; when we did occasionally pass small village children, they would call out ‘Farang! Farang!’ to alert others about foreigners in the area and to encourage playmates to come and see.

After an hour or so, we were dropped off at the foot of a very large mountain. The heat and humidity were so thick we could barely breathe. After just half an hour our legs and arms were already shaking with exhaustion as we pushed our bikes up the steep, rocky hill. Two hours later we reached the summit of the hill and gratefully replenished ourselves with a traditional Lao meal of sticky rice, dried beef and fresh chillies. We were only a fraction of the way into our journey.

Finally in the saddle, we hit the trail. Several ascents and some minimal downhill biking later, we approached a village. We could see two small children playing happily nearby. As we drew closer they froze and stared. The younger child began to wail with bewilderment, which promptly set off the other child. They had never seen a white person before, as our tour guide explained. Foreigners only pass through these hills perhaps once every few years. Deep in the majestic mountains of Lao countryside, we were feeling very far away from the quaint charm of Luang Prabang.

A Cultural Commotion

The next village was a few hours away, but our tour guide told us that there was no time to rest there. To draw the interest of the village people, however, there was no need to stop. Word had spread that farangs were around and what felt like the entire village had gradually gathered, following behind us as we passed through. Even the chickens came to greet us – three roosters lined up and clucked away at the commotion.

As the afternoon slipped away we began to worry about the rapidly setting sun. Soon enough, dusk was upon us and a sense of urgency filled my chest. When we finally reached the last downhill stretch and whizzed excitedly down the rocky mountain path, we suddenly came across several white wild horses. They briefly cantered along the path ahead of us before vanishing into the forest. More content to linger were the fireflies that laced the path, letting off a gentle glow, welcoming us to safety.

We arrived exhausted, too tired to try and win the hearts of the children who eyed us warily from a few feet away, clinging to their mothers for reassurance. We showered in our sarongs at the communal village tap and lay down to sleep on mattress in a hut that a local family kindly offered to share.

Although the second day was just as physically demanding, it was mentally easier knowing that we were headed back home. The last village we reached seemed deserted apart from a little old lady who excitedly waved at us and pleaded with our tour guide to stop. We sat down outside her hut as she kindly offered us fresh mangoes. She was familiar with foreigners, since she journeyed into Luang Prabang once a fortnight to sell her crafts in the night market. I would have been content to listen to the sound of the carefree natter of her and her husband all day, but alas we had to be off.

We finished our adventure by wading through a river with our bikes and basking in the cool refreshing water. Aching all over, we piled into the car for the return trip to Luang Prabang. The mountains slowly faded and we returned to the peaceful little town firmly entrenched on the backpackers’ trail.  Whereas before it had seemed serene and calm, the city now felt positively bustling with tourists.  As we picked our way through the night market, the remote and enchanting mountains surrounding us seemed worlds, instead of miles, away.

More Information

For Laos hotels and Laos tours, Teamworkz Consulting is your whl.travel local connection in Laos, where they cover Champasak, Vang Vieng, the capital city of Vientiane and Luang Prabang and environs.

For more information on Laos – including details about Teamworkz being singled out as the whl.travel Franchisee of the Year 2008-2009 – see our Laos country page.

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This entry was posted on Saturday, October 24th, 2009 at 2:24 pm and is filed under the following categories: