It was cool overnight, so I wasn’t in a hurry to get going. The fact is, I never am. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not a morning person or that I’m lazy when I know there’s an effort involved.
On paper, the effort was less than yesterday, but these 62 year old legs seem to have a memory, and never forgive me for the previous day’s efforts which were substantial. Is that the essence of being a grumpy old man ? Even my muscles get grumpy 🙂
Last night, Claire (of Claire and Miles fame) texted me and asked me if I enjoyed the view from the Guesthouse balcony. The only view from my room was that of a line of shared toilets for the cheaper rooms. They had the added advantage of providing the sound effects that you never want to hear, for a few hours. What balcony ? What view ?
Documentary evidence was provided, so this morning, I wandered to the back of the guesthouse and sweet Jesus – what a view. The Guesthouse was clearly on the edge of a cliff, overlooking massive valleys. I stood there for quite some time just taking in what was before me. (It’s the clouds, it’s the hills, it’s the constitution, just the vibe of the place).
Taking photos was secondary and I think it’s impossible to convey that ‘vibe’ with a phone camera. A drone would have been perfect. Thanks Claire, I’m so thankful that you mentioned it. Would have been tragic to miss it.
I wandered outside the guesthouse to see the morning activity of smoke rising from the houses as they cooked, and kids heading to school. I got lucky with the timing of one photo which shows a schoolboy crossing the dusty road. I’m always amazed that in such a dusty, dirty country, the kids at schools are all wearing white shirts that still look white.
The lady running the show here offered me fried rice with eggs for breakfast and I couldn’t refuse. It was perfect and huge, just what I needed today. There were two big climbs ahead.
I set off along the ridge out of Kiouwkacham through the early undulations. I came across a small goat in the undergrowth beside the road and soon after, a goatherd walking his flock in that direction. I told the guy about the little goat and his eyes lit up. I’m not sure if he thought he was getting a free goat, or if he’d lost one or He was just thinking of dinner. He was happy regardless.
The views all day were stunning as usual. They’ve been like this for my whole journey through Laos. It’s a pity the roads couldn’t match the views. They’re rubbish.
The potholes can be up to a metre deep in parts, and everywhere that any water ever washes across the road, the bitumen is washed away. The truck drivers weave their way around the potholes like drunk drivers. It means that I can come flying around a corner on a descent, and find potholes and oncoming traffic dead ahead of me.
I found the final 300m climb really tedious. I could see where I thought the road levelled out, but it snaked it’s way through gully after gully for so long, I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get to Phou Khoun.
I finally rounded the last bend, short downhill, then … Phou Khoun !
mmm. Gravel roads in the middle of town and a large gravel roundabout isn’t the best look for a sizeable town.
I was hoping to stay at Sala Phou Khoun which is a highly rated place with stunning views, a few kms south of the town (all of it downhill). When I finally found it, it was closed. There was a rope barricading it off, and no movement around. (It was the same the next morning). Luckily, there was a guesthouse back up the hill a few hundred metres which was ok. The guy managing it this week was fantastic though.
There were no restaurants around, so the little shop near the guesthousee boiled water so I could have some pot noodles for lunch. I sat on the verandah of the guesthouse and took in their own pretty stunning views.
At this point, I was tired. Physically tired from the hills that just seem to go on and on, and mentally tired from the hassle of finding food in the small towns. They can be quite spread out and they don’t all have a central market. For a decent ride, I need a good breakfast, a coffee (which you can get from any store – in a can) and snacks for fuel during the day. Sometimes this isn’t easy in the smaller more remote places.
Also, I had another 4 days of hills and small villages before the Vietnam Border. So, when I checked into the guesthouse, I thought that it might be easier to head straight to Vientiane. The worst of the hills are behind me, and I think I can enter Vietnam at a different border crossing. I mulled it over, had a call with Minou and in talking about it, decided that I’d do that.
For dinner, the young guy managing the guesthouse, drove me into town to a restaurant. I bought him some dinner, then we went to a supermarket to load up on food for breakfast and the ride. The result was terrible, there simply wasn’t much that I’d like to eat there, and I really didn’t want to ride up the hill in the morning to get more food from the market. The guy said there were no restaurants between here and Kasi, but google begged to differ. We’ll see !
