Rather than pay a premium to be picked up at 5am and raced across the Thai-Laos border in order to catch the 9am slow boat, I decide to have a day of ‘slow travel’ and hit the road alone, via local bus, staying the night in a local town called Huay Xai, from which the boat leaves.
I arrive with moments to spare at the Chang Rai bus station and as I walk in I see the local bus pulling out. I stick out my hand and, amazingly, it stops, and the conductress pulls me on, along with my heavy backpack.
It’s full of locals, and there’s only one other tourist - a guy called Liad who, as fate would have it, is also from Israel and lives not 4 km from me! We drive along a pretty well-paved road, passing paddy fields and palm trees, staring at small Thai farms and watch locals get on and off at villages along with livestock and huge bowls of noodles!
A short two hour drive later, we pull up at the border!
Departing the Thai end is a breeze - and the guy smiles as he gives me my departure stamp. Then it’s 40 baht to jump on the bus that will take us across the ‘Friendship Bridge’ to Laos. (You aren’t allowed to walk, and it’s not advisable as it’s 3 km - dudes, just pay the $1.50!). Unbelievably, I forget my passport at the bus counter - a Thai woman who I can’t thank enough runs after me with it (and all my dollar bills). People are inherently decent, I remind myself!
The Laotian side is more interesting - endless bits of paper to fill out and lots of pens provided, none of which work. I guess they haven’t gone digital in this part of South East Asia yet.
Finally, a border guard brings a few more biros out and Liad and I play good Samaritans, helping two Chinese women who can’t read English or Lao and can’t make head nor tail of the forms. The most interesting part of the form for me is the section that says ‘Race.’ I think about it for a bit and write ‘Jewish.’ The German guy next to me asks what he should write and I laugh and suggest ‘Master?’
Luckily, he’s not offended.
$40 US later (they reject my old bills - luckily I have some new ones too) and a lovely full=page visa in my passport and I’m good to go. load and I (and a few others, including a local woman with a young child who has screamed for 35 minutes, at passport control and beyond) haggle over the cost of a truck ride (which is pointless, because it’s a set price and the drivers operate as a cartel), pay 100 baht each then jump in the back.
Down the dusty road to Huay Xai we head…