I probably could have rolled in Sarajevo during the Bosnian war and would have been just as relieved to get off that bus. Yowza! That may have been the most uncomfortable seven hours I've ever spent, and that's saying something. I've had plenty of uncomfortable moments that stretched on for far too long.
We shared a tuk-tuk into town with some of our other harried travelers and started the process of finding a place in which to rest our weary heads. The beginning of our quest felt annoyingly similar to our first couple of hours in Vientiane, though in a much nicer and more quaint town (there's a reason it's a UNESCO World Heritage Site). As usual, the prices in Lonely Planet were WAY out of date (and my Scottish friend was not adept at putting a damper on his disappointment. After a quick survey, we found a nice enough spot for a reasonable price (which, quite frankly, almost anything was a step up in class and comfort from the treehouse we called home in Vang Vieng). It was close to the center of town, and just as we finished getting our keys, the English guys who sat in front of us on the bus grabbed the last two rooms as their original plan completely fell through.
Our night consisted of wandering around town, visiting the night market, and eating in an alley. It was lovely. What was even better was that I was finally starting to appreciate Laos in the way I had hoped I would. Success. As we discussed our plans for the next day, we both agreed that renting bicycles was the way to go. We thought we would ride them to the waterfall that was 35 kilometers out of town. And we would have...had the bike rental place been equipped with mountain bikes. Rather, they only offered up beach cruisers, and, being that I AM a skilled triathlete (and have ridden on the wrong kind of bike far too many times), I knew that no mountain would be climbed in single-gear beach cruiser. Instead we decided to sign up with a tour that would drive us to the waterfall. We ended our night with a little HBO (see, this guesthouse was fancy) and a can of Pringles.
The next morning, we took a pleasant stroll around town, visiting the monasteries and enjoying some tea at a local coffee shop. In the afternoon, we joined our group and rode to the waterfall. Fifteen minutes into the ride, the Scot gave me a knowing look. We never would have made it to the waterfall. I can only imagine that he too had found the spot where I (and possibly he) would start lashing out at the world because the ride was far too difficult. The waterfalls were beautiful, and we swam at every level. It was a great day.
Upon returning to town, we showered and got dressed for our last night out on the town. Once again, alley food was on the menu, and we enjoyed a little last-minute night market shopping. Since I had to meet my English friend across the hall at 5:00am to catch our tuk-tuk ride to the airport (as he was the only member of his group brave enough to fly on Lao Airlines. His other friends were planning to take the bus all the way down to Vientiane...and then take a boat, and then a train...all in the name of fear and caution), I ended up falling asleep at the late hour of 8:30pm.
The next morning, my English friend and I commended ourselves on our bravery and enjoyed a perfectly average flight (in a new plane, leading me to believe that Lao Airlines was making some positive changes). We both arrived in Bangkok without incident, and we wished each other happy travels.
And that, my friends, is how you turn lemons into lemonade.
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