1 month in northern Laos (Oct 23 to Nov 24, 2025) (page 3 of 5)

A side reserved for the Chinese The train and station must belong to China. They definitely built the station for their tourists. They’re building roads, bridges... they’re invading Laos, and I think I’ve heard the Vietnamese are too....

I knew this line was funded and built by China, but I didn’t realize they were giving their compatriots priority . It’s like Trenitalia reserving access for Italians on the recently opened Paris/Lyon line!!!

Monday, Nov 10. I’ve got a meet-up at the agency near the GH at 8:30 AM. A tuk-tuk truck picks me up, and we continue picking up others. It takes us to the bus station, where the minibus is waiting, and the locals have already taken their seats. We set off after 9:30 AM. On the way, the driver stops and asks a couple with a child who are arguing to get off. He talks with them, then everyone gets back on, and we continue the journey in peace. The road, as always, isn’t great, and we’re a bit jostled around. The landscapes are stunning.

We arrive in Nong Khiaw at 4 PM. I continue to Muang Ngoi. A tuk-tuk takes us to the dock. The boat fills up quickly, mostly with young French travelers who are on the road for several months. They’re all really friendly and invite me to dinner with them tonight. One of them complains of being very tired—she doesn’t have the right dosage of her levothyroxine. I can help her out with 2 tablets so she can adjust her treatment. Mutual aid is important, so I’ll bring them to her tonight at the restaurant.

Muang Ngoi is a small village—it’s basically one street where guesthouses, restaurants, trek agencies, and shops line up in a row. (Bus: 123,000 LAK. Boat: 70,000 LAK.) It’s a bit overwhelming, but luckily we’re not in peak season, even though there are quite a few tourists. I’m staying at Suan Pho GH, where breakfast is included. It’s pretty far from the dock, but a French guy on a bike came to pick up some tourists. He takes my bag on his bike and drops me off near the GH.



Tuesday, Nov 11. I have breakfast on the terrace outside near two French couples. We chat, and one of the couples lives just 10 km from my place—small world! The other couple is heading to India after this trip, and they love that country too. I set off on the 3-village trek and run into the French group along the way. We walk along the path, talking, and miss the turnoff that goes through the rice fields.



We visit Ban Na village together, stop for tea, and from the terrace, we watch young people gathering rice straws and bundling them by hand.



I continue alone to Hoy Bo village. To get there, I have to take off my shoes to cross a stream.



I’m the only tourist. I sit quietly on a bench, and soon curious little girls come over to see me.



On the way back to Ban Na, I grab a bite and something to drink at a restaurant. The view of the rice fields is beautiful.



I head back to the path to reach the third village, Houay Sen. I have to cross a ford, then follow the path along the river before arriving at the village.



I walk around the village and start making my way back. About 4 km from Muang Ngoi, a man on a motorbike stops next to me and offers me a ride. I don’t hesitate long before accepting because I’m starting to get tired. I have dinner at the Gecko restaurant.

Wednesday, Nov 12. Some new French folks are settled on the terrace for breakfast. They're Parisians and have friends in a village north of Perpignan. The Pyrénées-Orientales are well represented in this remote village. The G.H. owner takes me by motorbike to the pier. I'm off on a private boat for a ride to the villages of Ban Hat Saepia and Sopchem.

The sky is still quite hazy; Vietnam is getting a lot of rain right now, which explains the weather. Here, the mountains protect us from the rain.



I cross the village of Ban Hat Saepia—houses are on stilts made of woven bamboo.



I take the trail above that runs along the river and leads to the village of Sopchem.



This village consists of a main street lined with houses where women weave and display scarves for sale. At this early hour, I'm practically the only one wandering around and can't resist buying a few.



It's always fascinating to watch them weave.



I stroll through the village, observing the wooden houses on stilts. At the end of the village, the path leads to the river where I see pirogues. I spot my empty one—just need to head back to the village to find the boatman.

Back in Muang Ngoi, I head straight to Phanoy Viewpoint. The trail starts behind the temple. It's a bit steep, then there are wooden stairs. It takes about an hour to reach the top.



The views of the river are stunning—the effort is worth it.





A peaceful return to the village.

Thursday, November 13.



The boat leaves Muang Ngoi around 9:30 AM. We have a one-hour crossing to reach Nong Khiaw. When we arrive, tuk-tuks are waiting for customers. Several of us get on, and I’m the first to reach my destination. I check into my room and head out to explore the town. The main street is filled with restaurants and trek agencies. I walk all the way to the bridge, where there’s a beautiful view of the river.





I take a poorly maintained track—off-road motorbikes and trucks drive through, kicking up a lot of dust. The walk isn’t pleasant, so I turn back.





The starting point for the viewpoint, Pha Daeng View Point, is very close by (entrance: 40,000 kips, double the previous ones). I’m starting to get into shape and really enjoy it. The trail is well-maintained, but there are lots of steps to climb. The first level is reached in half an hour. The view of the river is beautiful.



I climb to the second level—the view is wider, but I prefer the one below, so I head back down quickly.



I don’t really feel like I’m in Laos here—there are mostly French people around. I wait for the sunset before heading back down.

Thursday, November 13.

The departure from the viewpoint, Pha Daeng View Point, is very close. (Entrance fee: 40,000 kips, double the previous ones). I’m starting to get well-trained and really enjoying it. The trail is well-maintained; there are lots of steps to climb, and the first level is reached in about half an hour. The view of the river is beautiful.



I climb to the second level—the view is wider, but I prefer the one below, so I head back down quickly.



Hi Marie Jo! The photos you posted here don’t match the location mentioned—there wasn’t a platform at Pha Daeng viewpoint, and the perspective was higher.

I looked it up on Google, and it looks like Som Nang, but if Richard passes by here, he can confirm (or not)—he climbed it too ;)

https://maps.app.goo.gl/88JfJQzB6aR6crGv8

That said, it doesn’t take away from the beauty of the place...

And since I can be stubborn as a mule sometimes, I searched and searched until I was losing my Lao—there are Pha Daengs *everywhere* , each with different elevation gains... Let’s drop the subject and get back to your trip. Sorry for the detour 😕

Friday, November 14. I rent a mountain bike near the guesthouse. I head toward the bridge and start pedaling, but I’m not moving and it’s making a strange noise. I realize the rear tire is flat, so I have no choice but to turn back and return it to the rental shop, which doesn’t have another one. Luckily, I find a bike on the main shopping street—newer and for the same price (100,000 kips).

I take Route L.P., which is busy with traffic, potholes, and dust. I pedal, push the bike up the hills—it’s exhausting, and I don’t see any villages or rice fields. I finally take a small path, but I quickly leave the bike near a house because the road is too rough, and I go for a short walk on foot.



I get back on the road, and after a while, I stop at a house overlooking rice fields—it’s hot.

I sit in the shade of a tree on a bench. Tired, I settle in, and a woman comes to sit beside me.

Some girls join us, and I take the opportunity to snap some photos. We’re all happy to share this moment.



I keep going a little longer, but the heat makes me turn back. On the way, I stop at a pretty little temple.



Back in Nong Khiaw, I cross the bridge and head to Ban Man Da Cave. The road here has steep hills, and I have to get off and push the bike several times. Ahead of me, a woman is doing the same—it’s reassuring to see others struggling like me, and I’m relieved to finally reach the sign. I leave the bike and follow a bamboo bridge that leads into the forest. At the end is the cave entrance.

This cave was a refuge for many locals during the American bombings. You have to go deep inside to reach a large cavern where kitchen utensils, pots, tables, and beds are still piled up—everything is left just as it was. It’s moving.





Outside, there’s a museum with lots of objects—bikes, helmets, trunks, and even bombs. A sign tells the story of this not-so-distant period—it’s important not to forget.







On the way back, I stop at the starting point for a viewpoint. Today, I’m a little tired—I’ll come back tomorrow morning. It’s about 2 km from the village. I watch the sunset from the bridge—there are a few of us waiting for it. Tonight, I eat at Pepper and Ginger restaurant—fish, rice, it’s really good, friendly and no-frills. I’ll be back.

Thursday, November 13.

Leaving the viewpoint, Pha Daeng View Point is really close. (Entrance is 40,000 kips, double the previous ones). I’m starting to get well-trained and I’m really enjoying it. The trail is well-maintained; you have to climb lots of steps, and the first level is reached in about half an hour. The view of the river is beautiful.



I climb to the second level—the view is wider, but I prefer the one below, so I head back down quickly.



Hi Marie Jo. The photos you posted here don’t match the location mentioned; there wasn’t a platform at Pha Daeng viewpoint, and the perspective was higher.

I looked it up on Google, and it looks like Som Nang—but if Richard passes by, he can confirm (or not), since he also went up there ;)

https://maps.app.goo.gl/88JfJQzB6aR6crGv8

That said, it doesn’t take away from the beauty of the place...

Hey Bruno! Yes, you’re absolutely right—I just realized I did Pha Daeng viewpoint two days later, so here we are!

Saturday, November 15. After breakfast at the same bakery as the day before, I get ready—shoes, walking poles—I need to be careful, my knees are fragile. Off to Pha Daeng View Point, whose trailhead is 2 km past the bridge. The sign is by the road, and the ticket is bought in the small booth above, attached to the house. (Entry: 50,000 kips)

It’s 9:50 AM. Right from the start, there are steps to climb, and the path keeps going up non-stop until the viewpoint.



I take it easy, stopping for photos along the way. It takes me 1 hour and 15 minutes to reach the top, and during the climb, I only ran into French travelers. The view is stunning, breathtaking.



Several terraces let you admire the 360° landscape.







I’m so happy I made it up without too much trouble, and the effort was worth it. I savor the moment for a while before starting the descent, which takes me 1 hour. What a joy this morning’s visit was. I rest in the shade at the booth when I get back, then head back to town for a cold drink on a terrace. I’m a bit tired, so I stop by the guesthouse to drop off my poles before going for a stroll. The day passes peacefully. I book a bus for tomorrow morning to Luang Namtha (350,000 kips). Final sunsets by the bridge.

In this cave, many locals took refuge during the American bombings.

Apparently, 50 people a year are still killed or injured by unexploded bombs! There are said to be 80 million that never exploded and are still buried underground :o

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. 😉