1 month in northern Laos (Oct 23 to Nov 24, 2025)

Saturday, November 15. On the way to Pha Daeng View Point, which starts 2 km past the bridge. The sign is by the road, and you get the ticket at the booth

In the end, I’m gonna stop overthinking it—with Marie-Jo, all we have to do is wait! [;)]

With the bike parked, the path leads to a bamboo bridge that disappears into the forest. At the end is the entrance to the cave. In this cave, many locals took refuge during the American bombings. You have to go deeper to reach a large cavern where kitchen utensils, pots, tables, and beds are piled up—everything has been left just as it was. It’s moving.

Hi, I’m getting a bit lost with the names of the villages along the Nam Ou. I personally visited a cave that looks a bit like the one in your photo… There was, however, a wobbly bamboo ladder to access several rooms. This cave was used by the Laotian army during its conflict with Vietnam. There was a room where supplies were stored and another that served as an infirmary… I can’t remember where it’s located, but it’s probably the one in your photo. We walked there without hiking too long.

I’m finally gonna stop overthinking it—with Marie-Jo, we just have to wait!

No way, Bruno, you can still step in. Plus, it was me who messed up the name of the first viewpoint.

It seems that 50 people a year are still killed or injured by unexploded bombs! Around 80 million of them are said to have never exploded and remain buried in the ground.

Yeah, it's terrible. Here's the sign at the entrance to the museum.

With the bike parked, the path leads to a bamboo bridge that disappears into the forest. At the end is the entrance to the cave. In this cave, many locals took refuge during the American bombings. You have to go deeper to reach a large cavern where kitchen utensils, pots, tables, and beds are piled up—everything has been left just as it was. It’s really moving.

Hi, I’m getting a bit lost with the names of the villages along the Nam Ou river. I personally visited a cave that looks a bit like the one in your photo... There was, however, a rickety bamboo ladder leading to several rooms. This cave had been used by the Laotian army during its conflict with Vietnam. There was a room where supplies were stored and another that served as an infirmary... I can’t remember where it’s located, but it’s probably the same one as in your photo. We walked there without it being too far.

It’s definitely the same one, but you can’t access the ladder anymore, and you only see this cavern, which is quite deep.

Finally, I’m gonna stop overthinking it—with Marie-Jo, all we gotta do is wait!

No way, Bruno, you can still chime in! Plus, it was me who messed up the name of the first viewpoint.

Anyway, I’m loving it!!

Thanks to everyone for your tips on Kate and Richard’s travel journal.

Anyway, I’m loving it!!

Bruno, I think the next part should please you

Sunday, Nov 16 The tuk-tuk picks me up at 9:30 AM, and the bus is supposed to leave at 10 AM. The trip should take between 6 and 7 hours. Right from the start, the brand-new, comfortable minibus is half an hour late—we’re not even on our way yet. Along the route, we make a bathroom stop and end up staying an hour in Oudomxai. We finally arrive in Luang Namtha at 6:30 PM. Two Laotians continue to Muang Sing, and I go with them. We switch to a different ride—this time, it’s an old rattletrap, and we get pretty shaken up. The road turns into a winding track with lots of potholes and heavy truck traffic. Muang Sing is a deserted village—everything’s closed and pretty dark. The driver agrees to take me to Phu Lu GH. A young girl welcomes me and shows me to my room (250,000 kip, breakfast included). Here too, it’s deserted, giving off a kinda creepy vibe, and it’s pretty chilly. What was I thinking coming here? What am I even doing here? My mind starts racing. Too late now—I’m here, and I’ll see how it goes tomorrow. It’s late, I haven’t eaten since this morning, and finding a restaurant isn’t going to be easy. I head out onto the main street and spot a barbecue restaurant in a garden—it’ll have to do for tonight since there’s no other choice. Several tables are occupied, and the people seem to be enjoying themselves. The waiter sets up the barbecue at my table—no other options, it’s this or nothing. He comes back with a wrapped package—this’ll be my meal. I have to wait a quarter of an hour before opening it, and the inside is bubbling. Surprise, surprise—I find two fish and some weird stuff, then he brings back a basket full of mushrooms I’m supposed to cook with the fish. It’s really spicy, I’m not a huge fan, and the bill is steep: 360,000 kip.



Monday, Nov 17 The roosters wake me up at 4:30 AM—way too early to get up. Then at 6:30 AM, really loud music blasts—I won’t be able to fall back asleep. Oh, the joys of the countryside!!! I have breakfast under an open shelter. A man sets up a table for me—I’m the only customer. I rent a bike directly from the GH, and my host points out the villages I can visit. As usual, the road is rough and dusty. After several kilometers, I see a sign at the start of a track pointing to a village. I venture down it—wooden houses line the path.





Further on, they’re harvesting sugarcane and loading it onto trucks. The sky is gray, the landscapes are misty—I hope it doesn’t rain before I get back.





I arrive in the village where the houses are on stilts. I wander around and don’t run into many people.



Kids are passing the time on the street corner. At this hour, everyone’s working in the fields.

I go back to the main road and keep going a few more kilometers to the next village, which isn’t much livelier. The sky has cleared up.



I rest on a tree trunk, and a woman brings me a stool and stays by my side.

By the side of the main road, women are sitting on the ground selling a few vegetables.

On my way back to Muang Sing, I stop at a bakery—here too, they sell pastéis de nata. It’s amazing how this Portuguese pastry is famous all the way in Laos. I pass by the museum, which is closed and looks abandoned. This town seems a bit neglected and has lost all its tourist activity. The market isn’t very lively either. I get back to the hotel early, and tonight I’ll have dinner at the bakery—they serve pizzas. It won’t be a treat, but I didn’t find anything else. It’s a little sad here.

This day reminds me of my exhausting and not very touristy trip to the northwest of Laos. But I was stopped in my tracks by the photo of the women sitting on their stools... it’s almost like me in my garden. Let me explain: 20 years ago, during a trip to northern Vietnam, I asked our driver (who spoke neither English nor French) to buy me two of those stools that were used everywhere in the region. In Hanoi, they were being replaced with plastic versions. I always packed a large empty bag in my luggage to bring back as much handicraft as possible. Those stools made a sturdy structure in the bag, and I could nestle fragile items inside them... Back then, economy class allowed 25 kg of luggage per person, and there was no limit on the number of bags. In the end, I couldn’t use the stools in the living room—there are big nails underneath that would have scratched the parquet—but they’re perfect in my garden, where I spend hours weeding flower beds and maintaining a few hundred square meters of plants. These stools are a thousand times better than what you find in garden centers: perfect stability, and you can lean in any direction without tipping over. One of mine fell apart—it didn’t like the dry weather—so I’ll have to reassemble it by tightening the joints. I take good care of the one that’s left, keeping it away from extreme heat and cold...

Tuesday, 18 Nov. I return to Luang Namtha to stay for 3 nights. When leaving the guesthouse, the manager drives me to the bus at 9:30 AM, but it doesn’t leave until an hour later. It’s the same driver as on the way here. Along the way, he makes several stops and picks up young women with their young children. Rain accompanies us the whole trip. In Luang Namtha, he drops us off on the main street near Zuela GH (room 23,000 kips). The welcome isn’t great—it’s different from the previous places, very business-like, "open your wallet…"

It rains all day, so I just visit the museum, which isn’t far from here—about 200 meters. All the ethnic groups are represented with their costumes, jewelry, housing, and tools. I spend a good moment there. When buying the ticket, the cashier gives me a map of the area with the route to take to tour the villages.

Wednesday, 19 Nov. The rain is still there during breakfast. Around 9:30 AM, the sky clears up, so I rent a bike and head out with a French guy, a Spaniard, and an Italian. We set off on the big loop, starting with Wat Samakhy Say.



A little further on, a large staircase with many steps leads us to the Poum Pouk stupa. The panoramic views are stunning—the climb is worth it.

The first village, Nam Ngaen, followed by Phieng Ngan. We’re in the middle of the rice fields, and it’s harvest time. The colors, ranging from yellow to green, aren’t very bright today with this overcast sky.

We make stops in the villages and discover local life. We celebrate in several houses—there’s singing and a lot of drinking, and it’s the women who liven things up. I get off my bike and explore the village. A woman at her window agrees to a photo.

I approach a young woman with her baby who’s happy to pose.



Then, a man works on basket weaving.



Shops line the main street.



I wander into an alley, and outside her house, a woman works on her loom.



The alley ends at a small river with a view of the rice fields.



Near the last house, a woman warms her hands and makes a fire in a container.



I go looking for my friends from the day who stopped at a house—our tour is far from over.

Those stools made a solid structure in the bag, and I could nestle fragile items inside.

What a great idea—I’ll stop by there on my next trip. [;)]

I also brought back a really beautiful Burmese basket in my carry-on that sits on your forehead. I’ve got a soft one from Indonesia too. I use them to store toilet paper reserves!

(continued) We pick up our bikes again and continue our tour. In the fields, women with sickles in hand are harvesting rice—we have to stop.





In Phieng Ngam, we visit a house for tourists. There’s a dyeing workshop with various plants, including indigo blue, on display along with the containers.







At the back of the room are the looms, but the workers aren’t there. As we leave, two little girls stop to say hello.



A little further down the road, a woman is selling leaves that look like Swiss chard.



I keep going on a dirt track that leads to the main road, and I’m still 11 km away from the guesthouse. Cycling through traffic and dust isn’t much fun. I arrive tired, my clothes splattered with mud, and my backpack dirty too. A shower will be very welcome. I have dinner at a restaurant near the guesthouse—the woman there is really friendly, the food is good, and I’ll definitely go back.

I see there are still women hand-weaving the beautiful silk scarves they wear across their chests as part of the national costume in Laos. I bought a few of them myself—Thai silk had become unaffordable. The silk was dyed with natural dyes. I’ve seen the costume in other recent photos, but I got the impression the scarves were machine-woven. The colors looked chemical, and it was likely polyester. The Chinese are experts at imitating ethnic clothing. In Vietnam, they add sequins, and the colors are neon. Progress can’t be stopped.

I’m passionate about textiles and basketry—these crafts are time-consuming, so they inevitably disappear with economic development, in Asia and elsewhere!

I also brought back a really beautiful Burmese basket in my carry-on that you wear on your forehead.

Ohh, the same ones I really wanted last year in Nagaland and Meghalaya! It’s tricky to carry them around the whole trip using public transport. This year, if I find bulky items, I’ll try to ship them to my hotel in Kolkata by letting them know when I arrive, since I’ll be passing through again on my way back to France.

I'm passionate about textiles

You can still find a lot of them in India. I'm leaving in a week for West Bengal, and I'll be passing through several artisan villages—pottery, painting, weaving, embroidery... I've got a big bag that's pretty empty right now, but it'll fill up fast! [:P]

a few "unfiltered" photos

Thanks for sharing this trip with us and letting us travel vicariously through you!

Have a great day.

Thursday, November 20 I set off again by bike and start with the morning market. I get my bag stitched up—it’s fixed in 5 minutes. Today, I’m heading out alone in search of villages in a less touristy valley on the way to Muang Sing. These villages are mentioned in the *Routard* guide. I follow the Nam Tha River, which is quite muddy, but the landscape is beautiful as the road runs alongside the rubber-tree forest.



I reach the first village, Ban Hong Leuai, followed by Ban Phin Ho. I leave my bike by the side of the road and take a path down to the middle of the wooden houses. I walk around the hamlet and spot a woman from the Lanten ethnic group in traditional dress standing in her doorway. I approach slowly, she smiles, and I show her my camera—she agrees. I’m like a kid, I’m so happy, and I go over to her. We take photos in high spirits. What a joyful moment we shared—I’m thrilled with how my morning started.



Lanten women have a distinctive hairstyle, a long blue tunic, a long necklace made of what looks like a white cotton fringe, a pink belt, and matching pants.



My encounter is perfect—her outfit is complete.



Their main activities are weaving and dyeing, but I didn’t see anyone working. The kids I come across are shy at first, but I try to play with them by improvising a game. Little by little, they come closer with loud shouts and agree to be photographed. They’re delighted and surprised to see themselves on the phone. So many great moments shared—I love it.



I get back on my bike, keeping an eye out for other encounters, and bingo—a Lanten woman is walking along the side of the road. I stop next to her, and she agrees to a few shots. Oh, this is amazing!!



I continue cycling, still on the lookout for more encounters. A little further on, a shelter covered in rice straw and open on the sides catches my eye. I park my bike and approach the shelter, where people are chatting and greet me with big smiles. The shelter is really pretty, and I look at it with interest—I think I’m amusing the people sitting there.



On the side, a woman with a cigarette in her mouth is sifting rice. I go over to her, watch her work, and she offers to let me try. At first, she was hesitant about photos, but in the end, she agrees to have her picture taken with a smile.





I leave with smiles and big waves. I hop back on my bike, and a few meters later, I think I spot some women sitting in a house courtyard. Another stop is a must—again, they’re Lanten. I approach them slowly so as not to scare them. We look at each other curiously, and at first, they refuse to be photographed. But I stay and observe them, and eventually, one agrees to a shot. She looks at herself, and the others, curious, agree to have their pictures taken too.



I’m over the moon with how my day has started. I’ve been looking for this kind of encounter for days, and this morning, it’s truly extraordinary.

(continuing from Nov 20.)

A path also leads off here toward the houses. I can’t resist.



Kids are playing and shouting when they see me arrive. Not exactly subtle, so I go back to my slow approach, and as they grow less shy, I manage to photograph them in good spirits.





I pass a house with its door wide open, and my curiosity gets the better of me. These homes consist of a single large room with a few fabric partitions for the bedrooms.



Happy, I hop back on my bike, pedaling while admiring the scenery, unsure what the next village will bring. The road is pretty good—light traffic and a few climbs. On one side, a dense rubber tree forest; on the other, fields with granaries on stilts to keep the harvest safe from animals.



I finally reach a cluster of 2 or 3 huts serving as shops. A path branches off to the right, and a sign points to Ban Done Xay village. I signal to the person in the shop that I’ll leave my bike here and set off on foot to find the village. After about 100 meters, I spot a suspension bridge and glimpse wooden houses on stilts—this must be it!



The village entrance excites me—I’m hoping for some great encounters. Kids greet me with loud shouts, approaching then backing away, wary of the camera. I take my time, hold out my hand, and after some coaxing, one of them slaps it, then another, and the little game begins. After a while, I manage to take their photos, and they’re thrilled to see themselves, laughing and having fun.





I enter the village with them, not exactly discreetly. This place feels timeless—the atmosphere is unique, like I’ve stepped out of the current century. It’s surreal.

In the village square, I see cloths spread out on the ground to dry rice. More kids have joined our little group, and a few women chat among themselves, sitting on stools. This place is so curious and authentic.



I go back to get my bike, and by the roadside, a woman is crocheting. Intrigued, I join her—she’s making a bag with plastic thread. I see another woman doing the same at her home, and I can’t just pass by without stopping.



Now, all that’s left is to pedal back to Luang Namtha, 15 km away. Dinner at the same restaurant as last night—what a beautiful day, one that’ll stay etched in my memory for a long time.

Friday, November 21st. So happy with my discoveries from the day before that today I set off by bike again. I head back to wander around the market.

The guy at the hotel pointed me toward a road, but it’s a busy one—trucks, dust, construction—the same one I took on the way back from my first day’s ride. That’s not what I’m looking for at all. I take random side roads that lead into residential neighborhoods that aren’t very interesting. After turning around a few times, I spot colorful flags hanging from branches, hidden by the vegetation along the roadside. I turn back—an animist cemetery?

I venture into the jungle and sure enough, I come across a cemetery with several abandoned graves.





I follow the path deeper in, leading to a cultivated field with beautiful views of the river and rice paddies.



I keep going, hoping to retrace the path from the first day, but Maps keeps leading me back to the main road. After insisting, I find some rice paddies with granaries.

Farther on, women are harvesting rice, and I go join them.



I pass by a bar-restaurant in the middle of the rice paddies and stop there for a while before heading back.

Saturday, November 22nd. I have a meet-up at 7:40 AM at the agency by the roadside. A tuk-tuk is supposed to pick me up to take me to the bus station. It arrives after 8:00, and I was starting to worry. The bus won’t leave until after 10:00, so I didn’t need to rush this morning. In Huay Say, they drop me off right in front of the guesthouse where I stayed when I first arrived. The lady recognizes me, and I ask her to book me a bus to Chiang Rai for this afternoon. While waiting for the tuk-tuk, I exchange my last kips. I make the trip with several French travelers. The exit from Laos goes smoothly, except that we have to pay 20,000 kips, and I don’t have any left. There are two of us in the same situation, and luckily, a German couple offers to cover us—otherwise, we wouldn’t have been able to leave, and no exchange bureau was open. We head to the checkpoint to cross into Thailand, and the officer asks me for my online visa. I only have the one from my arrival a month ago and didn’t think to renew it. He gives me the Wi-Fi, I apply for it, and luckily, the response is immediate. The officer stamps my passport, and I can rejoin the other tourists waiting in the bus. We can finally set off and drive to Chiang Rai. I’m sitting next to a French woman from Saint-Martin, and we chat the whole way. In Chiang Rai, a tuk-tuk takes me to my hotel, which is quite far from the bus stop. I check into my room and head to the night market, which is 1.5 km away. It’s huge, spread across several streets. At first, I didn’t realize there were two directions to avoid crowds, and of course, I was going the wrong way. So many food stalls—there are so many that I have a hard time choosing. I head back quickly after eating.

Had to Google the names of those villages to figure out where you’d gone and gotten lost! But what amazing encounters...

Meanwhile, here we are in Thailand—so, done with Laos?

to cross into Thailand and the officer asks for my online visa, I only have the one from my arrival

The visa?? Shouldn’t it be the TDSC instead?

Not the TDAC instead?

Yes, exactly, thanks!

On the other hand, here we are in Thailand—Laos is over?

Yep, Bruno, this trip ends here in Chiang Rai. [:)]

Sunday, Nov 23. Breakfast is a buffet—everything’s laid out, but there’s no one to serve. The fried eggs are already cooked and cold. Not great. Before starting my sightseeing, I head out to exchange my euros since I don’t have enough cash for my two nights. I stop by the temple at the corner of my street.



On my way back, I plan out my day’s visits. I walk to the bus station and spot a blue taxi heading toward the White Temple—perfect, that’ll be my first stop. Entry is paid (100 baht), and it’s packed. It’s beautiful with the sun reflecting off it, but wow, it’s kitschy—impressive, though.









To get back to Chiang Rai, I wait for a bus by the road. After 20 minutes, it shows up. I wave, it stops right by me, I hop on, and off we go—couldn’t be easier.

(continuing Nov 23)

Back in Chiang Rai, I keep visiting places, heading out on foot to the Blue Temple—it’s about 3 km from here. There’s nothing interesting to see along the way. The temple is free. It’s stunning, there are quite a few people but it’s manageable. I spend a great moment wandering around in every direction.













It’s too early to head back, so I walk to the clock tower, which is near the night market.



I wait for nightfall to see it lit up. It’s pretty kitsch too.

I get back exhausted after walking over 16 km. For dinner, I head to the main road about 500 m away and find a small restaurant packed with locals—that’s always a good sign. I order shrimp soup, and it’s delicious, really flavorful. I love it. (80 baht).

Monday, Nov 24. I want to make the most of my last morning. I have an early breakfast and head back to the bus station to go to the Black House in Chiang Rai, or Baan Dam Museum. The bus is there, but it won’t leave until 9:40 AM. The trip takes half an hour, and the bus drops me off at the junction—it’s another 800 meters to the museum. There aren’t many people when I arrive.

The park is dotted with several houses of all sizes and different Thai-style shapes. It’s quite strange. From the outside, the big house looks like a temple.



But as soon as you step inside, the atmosphere is dark and mysterious. The furniture is made from animal horns, large snake and crocodile skins are laid out on two big tables, and the walls are covered in paintings and sculptures. It’s unique, peculiar, haunting, and captivating all at once.









A whale-shaped building serves as the artist’s bedroom.







White domes that look like igloos represent stupas.

(continuing Nov 24)

Everything has been thought out



The exterior is well-maintained and peaceful.





It’s quirky and a visit is a must—I really enjoyed it. I wait for the bus for half an hour to get back to Chiang Rai. I do a bit of shopping for tonight and head back to the guesthouse to change before waiting for the taxi that takes me to the airport. My flight to Bangkok is on time, and I connect for my return to Barcelona, where I take the train to Perpignan and then a bus home. The journey is long, but everything went smoothly. This is where this beautiful trip comes to an end. Thank you for following along. Now I can head off for new adventures[:P] [;)]

Hi Marie-Jo,

Thanks for this travel journal—I followed it (silently [;)]) from start to finish. I also looked up where Muang Sing was—had no idea what that name was about . Great encounters in that region, anyway. It’s such a stark contrast to Chiang Rai!

Thanks Muriel. I also follow travel journals in silence[;)] Muang Sing must have been more "touristy"—well, that’s a big word for this place—but at least less sleepy before COVID. Will they try to pick up trekking or other activities again? At the guesthouse where I stayed, there was major expansion work going on, and it was already quite large. So what’s next???

Muang Sing was highly recommended in my 2003 guidebook for its market, which was held every morning and brought together all the ethnic groups from the surrounding villages. That’s why I went there with friends, but the guesthouse was far from the market, and since the driver didn’t wake up, we arrived too late. I was really disappointed after two days on a bumpy road for nothing. Life there has certainly changed a lot in over 20 years, with China so close flooding them with manufactured goods! I’m not sure the guidebooks are well updated these days.

Hi Marie Jo

Too bad, I would’ve loved to stay a little longer...

And thank you so much for this amazing recap—I recognized some familiar paths and, most of all, discovered unknown territories (not surprising coming from you!). Not as big a fan of your Thai comma, though—I’m finding it harder and harder to connect with that country, even though there’s no real reason for it.

Safe travels to you, and we’ll be happily following the recap you’ll no doubt share with us [;)]

On foot, by bike or scooter, by bus, boat, or train. In a tuk-tuk or even a hot-air balloon. From market stalls to museums, temples to monasteries. From villages to rice fields—so many wonderful encounters!

An exhilarating trip and a captivating story.

Thanks Bruno. For the south, I’ll reread your travel journal and I’ll definitely ask you for some tips. Now I’m getting ready for my next adventures ;)

Thanks Jean Luc, and glad you weren’t bored! This helped me realize everything I did. I’m pretty much tireless when I travel. [:)][;]

Well, if this is the end, thanks! [:)] That white temple in Chiang Rai is stunning. It’s making me want to go…

"At the entrance, we have to show the flight ticket QR code and passport. Luggage goes through the scanner. The hall is split in two, one side for Chinese travelers and the other for tourists. The center is empty."

Hi, Apparently, it’s not a strict rule. I took the train in Vang Vieng last week, and everyone was mixed together. I’m taking this opportunity to thank you for this travel journal! Françoise

Friday, November 21.

The guy at the hotel pointed me to a road, but it’s high-traffic—trucks, dust, construction—the same one we took back from our first-day walk. That’s not what I’m looking for at all. I take random side roads that lead into residential neighborhoods, not very interesting. After turning around a lot, I spot colorful flags hanging from branches along the roadside, hidden by the vegetation. I turn back—an animist cemetery?

I venture into the jungle and sure enough, I come across a cemetery with several abandoned graves.





Hi Marie-Jo, A month and a half late, I just read it. Thanks for this beautiful travel journal—it reminds me of our month in northern Laos in 2023. The cemetery near Luang Namtha is a Thai Dam ethnic group cemetery.