Oh no!
Change of plans today. Originally, the idea was to leave this morning by canoe for the village of Nuang Moy and spend two nights there. After checking, it turns out this little town mainly serves as a base for the many treks to the mungs villages further north. And apart from those activities, there isn’t much to do or see there. So we decide to stay quietly in Nong Khiaw and plan a day trip to Nuang Moy the next day.
The morning is taken up with logistical and organizational questions. First, we need to change hotels since ours no longer has any rooms available. Check out, we move out. Check in, we settle in... at the guesthouse next door, Sabaidee Nam Ou River View.
We scout out the public pier for the boat that will take us to Nuang Moy tomorrow morning.
After that, we wander rather lazily through the streets of Nong Khiaw, soaking up the peaceful atmosphere of the small town. I know comparisons aren’t always fair, but I can’t help thinking about the hustle and bustle of India—the noise, the crowds, the constant solicitations. There’s nothing like that in Laos, where everything seems more subdued, more inward. It’s true that India has an incredible, almost earthy energy that I don’t feel here. But I’m getting off track.
We head back to the banks of the Nam Ou for lunch at a small restaurant—cute, sure, but the food quality is pretty mediocre this time.
As always in Nong Khiaw, the heat becomes brutally intense in the early afternoon. Kate and I decide to go rest at the hotel. While waiting for Bruno and Nathalie, who are a few steps behind, we chat on the side of the street.
A loud, sharp thud—the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground—followed by a cry of pain. Oh no, Nathalie just took a hard fall onto the dusty street, face down. We rush over, but Bruno is already helping her up. Her face is covered in blood, and before she presses a handkerchief to her temple, I catch a glimpse of the long gash on her forehead.
Luckily, there’s a small pharmacy across the street. But the man running it seems even more panicked than we are, shouting in English, “Hospital! Hospital!”
A hospital in Nong Khiaw? Maybe, but where?
Fortunately, a taxi—alerted by a passerby, we assume—stops beside us and picks us up right away. When I say taxi, it’s more like a small truck, but it doesn’t matter. The young driver understands the situation and takes us to the medical center, just 5 minutes away.
During the short ride, I glance quickly at Nathalie, trying to assess the situation and reassure myself. Bruno, calm and attentive, wipes her bloodied face. Nathalie, slightly bent forward, says nothing. She isn’t crying; she’s gritting her teeth, trying to endure the pain, the stress, the fear. With her head down and her body slightly hunched, I find her moving in her “mater dolorosa” stance. Like the rest of us, I’m struggling to sort out my feelings. Is the trip over? But in the end, what does it matter? As long as it’s not serious.
We arrive quickly at the small hospital. The young taxi driver acts as our guide and interpreter. Emergency section. Unbelievable—there’s no one there, no patients. When I think of how crowded ours always are! Nathalie is taken care of by a nurse who leads her into a small treatment room, with Bruno by her side.
She comes out fairly quickly, her forehead covered with a large bandage hiding 6 stitches.
Nathalie seems calmer, and we’re all relieved, feeling like we’ve avoided the worst. It turns out later that the consequences of this fall will be more disabling than expected, but I’ll come back to that... The young man who waited so patiently for us finally takes us back to the hotel. Phew! Time for everyone to rest and recover from this emotional and shocking episode.
Our evening plan included climbing Som Nang, one of the hills overlooking the town, to enjoy the sunset. Given the circumstances, I was about to go alone while Kate wandered the village streets, capturing scenes as she loves to do. But to my surprise, Bruno and Nathalie knock on the door and say they want to come with me.
Nathalie, still unsteady but in “Warrior” mode, seems determined not to let the situation get the better of her. Well, bravo! A bit reckless, though, don’t you think?
On the way down, Kate joins us. The day ends on a positive note, with the thought that we’ve still avoided what could have been a disaster. And that no matter how well-prepared a trip is, it can sometimes be at the mercy of bad luck that throws everything off. Just like life.
Tomorrow, a long boat ride on the Nam Ou to discover Nuang Moy.
