The 4k Islands

After Vientiane I continued south, headed for the place where the Mekong spreads into 4,000 tiny islands ripe for exploration. One overnight bus, a 2-hour minibus ride and a boat, I arrived on Don Khong - the largest of the islands (32km).

The landscape in the south of Laos is very different. Flat and comparatively dry. Don Khong was no different, but had one stand-out feature - a beautifully maintained road wrapping around the island. (The Prime Minister of Laos is from Don Khong and had a hand in providing this truly enviable feature.) A few new friends and I hopped onto some rented bicycles. We rode around nearly the whole island. I think we passed 2 trucks, a small handful of motorbikes and even fewer potholes. This road represents political favors at their best.

The cycle loop was about all Don Khong had to offer so we arranged for a boat to two smaller islands right on the Cambodian border where we hoped to see the rare Irrawaddy dolphins, explore Dong Khone and Dong Det by bicycle and sleep in straw bungalows overlooking the Mekong. We were thankfully successful in all pursuits.

The bungalows were basic, but an evening sundowner on the porch made up for the slightly smelly squat toilets and hearing the nighttime snoring of neighbors. The dolphins were cooperative albeit under the water and a little difficult to view with great detail. The bicycles had less than effective breaks and made me feel like the Wicked Witch of the West...

The bikes one finds in Laos are all the same (although do vary a bit in their level of junkiness). They all have seats that are too low, handles that curve in like an old-fashioned tri-cycle, a basket on the front and only one gear. I was the 3rd bicyclist in a line of five. I saw a small boy (probably about 1-year old) crossing the dirt path. "I should stop," I thought. Then his parents called to him to stop. He slowed. I decided to keep going...just as he did. I slammed the breaks, but they were, as I mentioned, less than effective. Before I could dig my heels into the ground the boy had run into my leg and bounced off, landing on the ground. He looked up to see if anyone was watching. Everyone was. He started crying...loudly. I turned red. Onlookers glared at the white foreigner who had "run over" their child. His parents, who had seen the whole thing, brushed him off and indicated that it was no big deal. I felt evil...truly a Wicked Witch in the eyes of this munchkin.

All in all the islands were enjoyable - mellow, friendly and cheap. Not quite the magic that I found in the North, however.