June 17: Moving to Vientiane with a Cheap Sleeping Bus
I woke up at about 7:30, which has been normal for me recently. I slept well, so I felt energized. I went downstairs to check out, but the front desk guy was not there. Another staff member told me that he did not know where he was either. There were two backpackers who I assumed were also waiting for him.
I have experienced many things during this trip that would never happen in Japan. In Japan, the service is so detailed, and employees are trained so strictly, that this kind of thing almost never happens. When I was in South Korea, someone who used to work with Japanese people told me, “Everything is detailed in Japan.” I think that is definitely one of Japan’s strengths. However, to me, that can sometimes be stressful. I prefer a more relaxed environment, so although frustrating things sometimes happen during travel, I embrace and endure them, and sometimes I even enjoy them.
Since I did not want to wait, I decided to check out later and left the hostel. I entered a coffee shop that looked a bit modern. As soon as I walked in, a man who looked bored and was standing at the register recognized me and handed me a menu. There were no customers. I sat down and ordered an iced Americano.
A woman, whom I assumed was his wife, came and took over his work. I started updating my blog. While I was doing that, I saw two girls, whom I assumed were their children, having breakfast before going to school together. They came back at about noon, and the older one, who looked to be in her early teens, took over her mother’s work and started helping out.
For most of the time, they were playing with a baby, whom I assumed was their older sister’s child because there were no customers until lunchtime, when a group of young girls came in for lunch.
You would never see something like this at a coffee shop in Tokyo.
Watching all of this reminded me how wonderful family is. I do not think they were wealthy, but they looked genuinely happy, which made me happy too.
In capitalist countries where I have lived for a long time, such as Japan and the United States, it often feels as though money and success are everything. In Laos, it feels different. I am not saying that people in Laos do not work hard—they absolutely do. However, they do not seem obsessed with money. They accept their circumstances and do what they can with what they have.
I learned that setting a lower bar for happiness is important, something that tends to be undervalued in many countries I have visited or lived in. The slow life in Laos might give you a different perspective, just as it did for me.
While I was at the coffee shop, I went back to the hostel to make sure I could check out properly and confirm that the payment had gone through. The staff member told me everything was fine.
At about 11:30, I left the coffee shop for lunch. Since I liked the restaurant I had visited the previous day, I went back there. I was not sure if the waitress remembered me, but I ordered a different dish: large fried rice with pork for 60,000 LAK.
Just like last time, a few flies were flying around the restaurant, something I was gradually getting used to. The dish was even better than the one I had ordered previously. Both the taste and portion size were a perfect 10 out of 10. All of the staff were very friendly as well. It made sense that the restaurant was packed during lunchtime.
After lunch, I headed to a coffee shop that I had visited on my arrival day and relaxed there for a couple of hours.
Since I had nothing else to do, I went to a gym where I could train for only 30,000 LAK ($1.40). Because I had already trained my full body the previous day and was still sore, I focused on shoulders. I trained for a little over an hour.
I had dinner at the same restaurant as lunch. It was my third visit. This time, I ordered fried rice with chicken. As usual, it was excellent.
Since it was my last meal in Pakse, I paid extra to show my appreciation. A young girl whom I had never seen before was working as a server that night. She noticed that I had overpaid and tried to give some money back, but I insisted on paying extra.
If you visit Pakse, I highly recommend visiting Mrs. Khamla Fish Noodle Soups, especially if you enjoy delicious food, large portions, and low prices.
The bus was scheduled to depart at 7:30 PM, so I headed to the station about an hour early. I did not get a ticket for the bus online. I happened to be at this station on the arrival day. I checked the fare, and it was cheaper than the online price, so I decided to buy it. So, if you take a bus in Southeast Asia, I recommend booking on site, if it is possible.
Unlike on previous days, there was a line of sleeping buses waiting there. While waiting, I brushed my teeth using my drinking water.
As departure time approached, more passengers arrived, including several Western travelers.
About ten minutes before departure, I tried to board the bus. Although I was not sure which bus I was supposed to take, my ticket showed a bus number in the bottom-right corner: 9997. One of the buses matched that number, so I showed my ticket to a staff member handling luggage, and he took my backpack.
The bus looked very old from the outside. I had read reviews of the sleeping buses departing from this station, and they were not encouraging. One review claimed that passengers were forced onto a van instead of the bus they had booked. Many others mentioned having to share a bed with a stranger.
As expected, I felt nervous as I boarded.
When I showed my ticket, a staff member directed me to the second floor. As I walked inside, my anxiety increased because the interior looked even older than the exterior.
When I reached the second floor, I saw the beds. Each bed had two pillows and two blankets. At that moment, the possibility of sharing a bed with a stranger became very real.
I found my assigned bed and hoped nobody would end up sharing it with me. It was about ten minutes before 8 PM. I realized that 7:30 PM was probably the boarding time, not the departure time. I assumed the bus would leave at 8 PM, so I thought, “Maybe I’ll have the bed to myself!”
From that point on, every time a passenger entered the bus, I silently prayed that they would not stop at my bed.
At about 8 PM, two Western travelers—a man and a woman—boarded the bus. The man stopped at my bed.
That was it.
His bed number was 40, right next to mine. The woman’s bed was across the aisle. Another man who had already been assigned to the woman’s bed noticed that he would be sharing with her and immediately moved to a different bed.
I greeted the Western guy kindly. He also seemed to be struggling to accept the fact that he would be sleeping next to a random Asian guy.
I think we were both thinking the same thing: maybe there was still an empty bed somewhere.
He looked around, but unfortunately every bed was occupied.
Accepting reality, we started chatting.
It turned out that the man and woman were siblings traveling together for five weeks, something that is relatively uncommon in many Asian families. They were from Ireland, so English was their first language, though they spoke with an accent I had never heard before. They also spoke Irish, I believe.
We talked about the places we had traveled to and our future plans before settling down for the night.
I realized it would be more comfortable if my feet faced the opposite direction from his, so I asked, “Do you mind if I sleep this way? I promise my feet don’t smell.”
He replied, “No problem. I don’t care.”
Then he joked, “I might be licking them.”
The bus had already departed by then. In the end, it left at about 8:30 PM.
I tried to sleep, but the bus shook constantly both horizontally and vertically. Naturally, I could not sleep.
Although there were quite a few older male passengers on board, I did not hear anyone snoring, which made me think they were struggling to sleep as well.
About two hours later, the bus stopped and remained stationary for quite a while. The Irish guy went downstairs, probably to use the restroom, and then came back.
A few minutes later, a man who looked to be in his thirties and appeared Chinese came upstairs complaining about something.
The Irish guy told me that there had been a passport check.
Throughout the journey, I saw police officers or security personnel board the bus several times to inspect something. Since we were not crossing any borders, I had no idea what they were checking.
The Irish guy joked, “You’re next.”
I eventually fell asleep around midnight, I think.
June 18: The First Day in Vientiane
I woke up at about 3 AM and was glad that I had managed to get some sleep. I had no idea about the Irish guy, who had seemed to struggle even more than I had. I went back to sleep and finally got up for good at about 8 AM when it was already bright outside, although I had woken up a couple of times during the night.
As I checked the map to see where we were, the bus finally arrived at around 8:30 or 9 AM. The Irish guy did not wake up until the bus came to a complete stop. Since I was already prepared to get off, I quickly grabbed my things, got off the bus, and said goodbye to his sister, who was already awake.
The bus station was about 10 kilometers away from the city center of Vientiane, so I needed some form of transportation. As expected, there were several tuk-tuk drivers trying to attract passengers.
My goal was to get to the city center for 50,000 LAK (about $2). I tried negotiating with several drivers who initially quoted me 200,000 LAK. Although I managed to bring the price down to 100,000 LAK, none of the negotiations were successful.
I eventually gave up and decided to try hitchhiking instead. As I was leaving the bus station, one of the taxi drivers made a final offer. In the end, I agreed to pay 100,000 LAK, considering that I would be riding in a car rather than a tuk-tuk.
The driver did not seem very experienced, but he safely dropped me off where I wanted to go.
My next goal was to find a coffee shop where I could use a credit card because the cash I had was limited. I was hoping that credit cards would be accepted more widely in Vientiane.
After about a 20-minute walk, I found a coffee shop with a VISA sign on the door and decided to go in. As soon as I looked at the menu, I noticed that the prices were higher than in Pakse. Coffee was priced between 50,000 and 60,000 LAK.
I ordered an iced Americano and a croissant, which cost me 99,000 LAK (about $4.50). Although it felt expensive to me, I was happy to learn that I could use a credit card in Vientiane.
Even though I was still a bit tired from the rough bus ride, I spent some time updating my blog. I have learned that writing blog entries becomes much more difficult once I fall behind.
After that, I left the coffee shop and had lunch at a local restaurant, paying with cash. In most restaurants and coffee shops, credit cards are still not accepted.
In the afternoon, I relaxed at Starbucks, where I could use my credit card.
In the evening, I visited a night market, but I did not find it particularly fascinating. Eventually, I had dinner at the hostel where I was planning to stay.
When I checked in, I could see the guest list while writing down my name and basic information. Chinese guests were by far the majority, but I also noticed people from Myanmar and one Japanese guest who had already checked out.
Since arriving in Vientiane, I have been able to see how much influence China has on this country. Chinese characters can often be seen throughout the city.
I learned that the railway connecting Yunnan and Vientiane was completed a few years ago, so it makes sense that there are so many Chinese visitors. I also learned that China has invested heavily in Laos’s infrastructure.
After receiving a 10% discount on dinner because I was staying at the hostel, I went to my room, where three or four other guests were sleeping.
I went to bed at about 9 PM because I wanted a proper night’s sleep after spending the previous night on a sleeping bus, sharing a bed with another guy.
