Vang Vieng | This short 3-day, 2-night trip will take you on a journey with us, riding a motorbike to Pha Hom Market, a distance of 25 kilometers, which will allow you to see Vang Vieng from an unfamiliar angle.


Vang Vieng is just a checkpoint for immigration.

It's not much further than many provinces in our country.

It's the heart that makes things feel farther than they really are.


Sit up straight like you're on a fan train and let's go on a journey together.

(Travel 26-28 / 06 / 2558)

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By train

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11:05 p.m. according to the train schedule, the fan-class seat train arrived at the platform 40 minutes later than announced. The number of people getting on and off the train seems to be the same as the number of people selling goods. This is the time when we should be going to bed, but today the space I bought is only enough to lay my bottom flat and my back upright. I doze off and wake up, the train doesn't stop often but I wake up often. Around three o'clock in the morning, the seats start to empty. I don't know how many times I've fallen asleep and woken up. The seat next to me can be used as a backrest, but it's not long enough for my whole body, which is only 162 centimeters long. There's no comfort in sleeping tonight. It's okay, I came here to suffer anyway.

I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, it was ten minutes to five. I woke up my friend and we waited to see if the SRT would arrive on time like last time. This time, it was the same as last time. This is another good point that deserves a shield for the SRT. The shield will be engraved with the award name "Come to pick up the line but arrive on time, okay."



DAY 1

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Just a barrier

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Nong Khai Railway Station is less than 1 kilometer from the Thai-Lao border. This time, my backpack wasn't heavy and I didn't have to sit with my legs bent for hours. Plus, the border opens at 6 am, so we decided to walk to kill time while waiting. We also saved 30 baht each on tuk-tuk (skylab) fares. After a leisurely walk, we arrived at the border where there's a 7-Eleven to grab some food. We finished breakfast just as the border opened.

A Friday morning during the rainy season. Oh! Or maybe it was the hot season? There weren't many people, so I passed through Thai customs in less than ten minutes. I bought a ticket for the bus across the bridge to the Lao side and presented my passport to buy a border pass, which was a green card for 45 baht (normally 5 baht, but since I arrived before opening hours, they charged an additional 40 baht).

"There are no borders, no dividing lines, no walls. No matter where you are, we are brothers and sisters. There is only us, nothing more. Think carefully, there is no one else in this world. The lyrics of the song "Imaginary Things" by Lek Greasy Cafe invite us to think again that "Vang Vieng is just a checkpoint away. It's not further away than any other province in Thailand. It's our hearts that make things farther than the actual distance."



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The End of Line 14

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After passing through the Lao checkpoint, friendly Lao people lined up to ask where we were going next and offered their prices. Those who were willing to pay followed them and went their separate ways. As budget travelers, our destination was our destination, and the bus was our only hope. The two of us walked towards a green bus parked on the right side, about 50 meters from the checkpoint. The bus had not yet departed, so we had time to walk around. We learned that this bus was route 14, traveling from Khua Mittaphap (Khua = bridge).

The last stop is at the Morning Market Bus Station. The advantage of taking the bus is that it is cheap, 6,000 kip (30 baht) per person. Although the bus has a schedule, during the morning in the low tourist season, the driver may wait a while for passengers. Bus number 14 will pick up and drop off passengers along the way for more than 20 kilometers, taking about 40 minutes. The last stop is at the Morning Market Bus Station.


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To the North

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The Talat Sao Station is small enough that we can easily see it all around. My friend and I walked to read the sign on the front of the car that said "Northern Line Station". We found it in less than a minute, and the point where it was easy to see was that it was parked in front of the bathroom at Talat Sao Station. The price of 5,000 kip (20 baht) is the price of a ticket for the entire line. The car was still waiting for people. I went to find something to eat and found boiled corn (sali = corn), which I remembered from my trip last year. The corn in northern Laos is soft and sweet. There is a shop that sells it hot in a bag on a cart next to the bathroom (do they use water from the bathroom to boil it?). It is a great snack to eat while traveling and should be tried.

From Talat Chao Station to the Northern Bus Terminal, the distance is unknown, but it is not very far. The traffic may be congested at some traffic lights, but it took us about 25-30 minutes to reach the Northern Bus Terminal.

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One box is enough to reach Vang Vieng

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Arriving at the Northern Bus Station at almost 9:00 AM, I headed straight to buy tickets. I chose a van because I wanted to get to Vang Vieng quickly. The ticket price was 50,000 kip (200 baht) per person. I could hardly believe that the van was almost full, but the seat in front next to the driver was still empty, just as I had hoped. I wanted to see the view between Vientiane and Vang Vieng for a change, because on previous trips I had always slept. When traveling in Laos, our bags often have to be placed on the roof. I had prepared a large canvas bag that was big enough to hold my and my friend's bags and keep them safe from the rain. And this four-wheeled van would take us to the Guilin of Laos.


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Forgot Pee

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The driver, who was rather overweight and of average height, drove us out of the bus station in less than ten minutes.

Driver: Hello..£&@(@(/:...Oh!! I forgot!!!! Oh...I forgot the ticket!!!!!

Two Thai passengers: Looked at each other but tilted their heads to listen.

The driver hung up the phone and turned to tell the passengers that

Driver: I'll go back and get the ticket first...I forgot the ticket!!!

Ticket(Lao language)=Ticket

My friend and I looked at each other and laughed at the same time.



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Traffic on the cow is scarier than traffic on the road

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Vientiane, despite being the capital city, the roads here are still full of dust, potholes, and holes. At some point, I wasn't sure if it was a paved road or a pothole road. The potholes were so frequent, and the driver's driving skills were so erratic, constantly answering phone calls and stopping to pick up people even though there was no room to sit. On top of that, we had to watch out for cows that were walking slowly, dropping their calves, and swaying their butts. Cows are truly living beings beyond control. In the beginning, they were walking in a line along the side of the road, but as we got further away, they started to expand their territory and take up more space. They started to gather in groups, standing or lying down, blocking the road without caring about the oncoming traffic. Sometimes, I naively thought that it was a harmonious coexistence (really?).

My friend and I enjoyed the view for a while. The sun was just right. The lack of sleep on the train slowly pulled our eyelids down again. When I woke up, I took out the snacks I had stocked up from Thailand and ate them. Sleep, wake up, look out the window, eat, repeat. I don't know how long I slept, but a sudden brake jolted me and my friend awake. The train was still moving forward even though the driver was hitting the brakes. The passengers behind us screamed. In front of us, a large family of cows ran out of a house and onto the road. My friend and I were still half asleep. Brake!! …… Someone from behind shouted, as if to tell the driver to slam on the brakes again. The cows must have been startled by the dogs barking at them, so they ran out onto the road and into the path of the car.

Bang!!... The sound of a car colliding with a cow at a time when the car was slowing down to a stop. The cow ran forward and the driver got out to check the car. Fortunately, both the cow and the car were unharmed, and we continued on our journey.

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Passing through the city of longing

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Since the beginning of my journey, I have often thought of "Hin Heep City". I knew and remembered this name from my previous trip to Laos. The first time I heard this name was from the van driver. I thought of the name "Ban Non Hin Heep", the village of Nu Hin, a Thai cartoon with a unique style that has been made into a movie and stickers on Line. The car will run on a concrete bridge or "Khua Pun" and you will see an old wooden bridge parallel to it far away on the left-hand side. The driver told me that there is accommodation here, but not as much as Vang Vieng. This place is probably just a passing city, but for people who are allergic to bridges like me and my friend, we set a goal in our hearts that we will definitely visit again next time. I was so busy looking at the bridge that I didn't take any pictures.

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No waiting, no delay

The car had been driving for a long time (I don't know how long). Looking ahead, I saw a steep incline. The car turned right so that we could use the restroom. About 26 kilometers ahead, the road would become more winding and steep. The driver answered my question. After driving for a while, we started to see villagers selling goods on the side of the road. They had bananas, bamboo shoots, and various vegetables for sale. There wasn't much traffic on the road. I saw some people sleeping next to their goods, perhaps because they weren't expecting many customers and could afford to nap while waiting. Thinking about it, sometimes...

The things we eagerly anticipate seem to take an eternity to arrive, while the things we don't pay attention to while waiting seem to pass in mere minutes. Expectation and the desire for things to go our way are likely factors in our perception of waiting. If we could let go of these desires, we might find happiness in the present moment. Simply by not waiting, time ceases to be a factor.



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Harbor House

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Curve after curve, sleep after sleep, I woke up at the end of the curve. The car turned left and started to be a straight road on a flat surface. On the right hand side, the trees along the road were a line blocking the view of the river. The scattered mounds of earth in the river reminded me of the view at Sangkhla Buri, our home. "Ban Tha Ruea," someone in the back of the car shouted. The car stopped at a three-way intersection with shops selling fish products around the area. This city must have an interesting way of life. I'll come back next time, brother.


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Familiar distance

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About 30 kilometers from Vang Vieng, I started to feel eager to reach my destination. After more than two hours of sitting, leaning on my friend and the driver, my back and butt were aching. I looked out the window, gazing into the distance for the welcome arch to Vang Vieng, which would signal the end of my journey by van. However, I was also enjoying the scenery of the vast rice fields and the farmers working in the distance.

The van took about three hours to get us to the van stop next to the familiar open space. Yes, the open space was the old airport and it was a sign that we had arrived in Vang Vieng. The two of us walked across the mud puddle on the road to cut through the old airport into Vang Vieng town. But we ended up at a coffee shop with a strong taste, which was sold in a red square zinc cabinet (like a PEPSI cabinet selling things in our house) in the middle of that open space first. From my friend's observation, I learned that coffee here is served with salt. I didn't ask how important the salt was. We walked into the alley and stopped to eat pho as my friend's stomach demanded. And the goal was that we should take our bags to the accommodation first.

Tonight, we're staying at Champalaow Bungalow. We booked it through their Facebook page because we were worried we wouldn't be able to get the room we wanted otherwise.

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Happiness 250

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Travelers, don't stay in one place for too long. Someone once said (who was it?!?) We deal with life by changing into wet clothes and going out to float on a rubber ring. Let the water heal the cracks and pain in our buttocks and backs. The rubber ring rental shop at the intersection of the turn down to the wooden bridge is the first destination of this arrival. And let's call it "Happiness 250 Baht" with 6 easy steps for enjoyable viewing. Let me draw you a picture.

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Happiness in an envelope

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This time, only two catfish were found in the kimchi jar for the 250 baht members. A small pickup truck, similar to our local "kapor" truck, carried two Thais from Korat and one Korean to the pier near the organic farm, the starting point for a 4-kilometer inner tube ride. This simple activity of sitting on an inner tube and letting the current slowly carry you along is a time to slowly soak in the atmosphere on both sides of the river. So slow, in fact, that sometimes you have to use your hands to paddle to feel like you're actually moving forward.

The fine drizzle cooled us down, interspersed with warm (even hot) sunshine at times. The downpour of large raindrops hitting our bodies and the water created an extraordinary atmosphere for this joyful activity. The mountains on the right were so high at times that we had to look up. The moving mist obscured the mountains behind, making them even more intriguing and captivating to watch.

Perhaps the growth of the city gradually surrounds us, making us encounter less and less of true nature. Coming here to soak my back in the water and look up at the sky, challenging the rain, reminds me of the sentence that my friends like to joke about: "If my mother knew that I was out in the rain like this, she would definitely beat me to death." I am one of those who were taught not to get caught in the rain. My mother didn't forbid it, but she often told me not to get caught in the rain or I would catch a cold. I was a good child and obeyed this (probably the only one). I didn't dare to get caught in the rain. It wasn't that I was afraid of the rain, but I hated eating rice porridge, lying in bed, and taking medicine. And then, an incident during a hike where I got soaked from head to underwear changed my mind forever. Because that rain didn't make me sick, I enjoyed getting caught in the rain more and more. This time is the same.

As the inner tube drifted along, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, we felt like tiny specks compared to the vastness of the river, the mountains lining its banks, and the world itself. We admired the scenery and let our minds wander, chatting about this and that. Every thought brought joy, a joy found in the flowing waters of the Song River.

On the first night, we went all out with Korean BBQ at a restaurant packed with Korean people. This is what they call Korean BBQ, or maybe it's Koreans grilling pork? We finished off with crispy roti, sweet condensed milk, and a sprinkle of sugar. We walked over to check out and book our accommodation across the bridge called OTHER SIDE VIEW, then headed back to our current place. The atmosphere with the rain starting and stopping like this, at nine o'clock the air was cool and comfortable. The sound of rain hitting the roof, mixed with the sound of a blue-eyed foreigner stomping their feet on the floor of the house, went well together. We fell asleep before ten o'clock.


DAY 2

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Slow mornings

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Waking up in the morning to a wide view, the mist covering the entire mountain like a blanket, the trees lush with water, the sound of a newborn puppy under the house barking faintly, the sound of bicycle wheels grinding quietly on the road. We use our eyes to look at the picture in front of us, our ears to listen to the surrounding sounds in detail. After a slow morning, today is definitely as refreshing as the green grass below. It's time to move our bed and the trip we just talked about last night. We put our bags at OTHER SIDE VIEW BANGALOW. The cleanliness here is not up to standard, but it's offset by the wide lawn in front of the accommodation and the mountain view behind. Moreover, we have to walk across the bridge over the Song River, so we overlook the cleanliness of the accommodation.

We then walked around looking for a motorbike rental shop. We chose a manual transmission bike, which we rented for 40,000 kip. The shop owner took our passport as a guarantee for the bike and gave us a roughly drawn map with a line indicating the way to "Pha Hom", our destination for the day. As it is known among my friends that I am colorblind and have questionable riding skills, my friend, who values his life, stopped being the rider. Not far from the shop, we found a gas station on the right-hand side and immediately stopped to fill up the tank (22,000 kip).

Not far from the gas station, we rode our bikes to the morning market in Vang Vieng, hoping to have sticky rice, grilled food, and iced coffee for breakfast. We parked our bikes in front of a coffee shop in the parking lot because the last time we were here, we parked our bikes at the entrance of the market and got charged for parking. This time, we weren't going to fall for it. After parking, we signaled to the coffee shop owner that we would be back for coffee and walked into the market. We arrived quite late, and many vendors who had set up their goods on the ground had already left. The crowd was sparse, but there were still some wild animals like bats and birds on display.


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Beautiful because of some days

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With a full tank of gas, a full stomach, and a bag of coffee in hand, a woman riding and a man on the back, we were ready to hit the road. This was the first time my friend and I would be taking a long trip out of Vang Vieng town by motorbike. We hadn't been out of the morning market for long when a large, tall mountain beckoned us to stop.

A barbed wire fence, overgrown with some kind of tree or grass, marked our position between the road and the wide field and the long mountain range behind it. The clouds drifted slowly, the air was not clear, but we were so refreshed by the sight in front of us. Looking at the map, the road was a straight line. "You can ride," my friend said confidently. I didn't feel scared either. I wasn't riding fast anyway, and there weren't many cars.


At the highest speed I allowed my hand to twist the car's speedometer needle to 40 kilometers per hour, allowing me to safely admire the beauty of the roadside. I accelerated before the cool wind could dry my face from the raindrops. A small temple on the hill beside the road, with green trees and several houses lined up around it, the hill designated as a temple.

The straight road leading to the mountain behind us captured the overall view we saw with the camera we had prepared. We took pictures while greeting and distributing snacks to the children. Both the children and the old man did not seem to be excited or pleased with the view we were admiring. Beauty is only because we see it some days. Seeing it every day will make the image seem ordinary. This may be the reason for the fading beauty.

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Gears of Life

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Let's take a detour to pay respects at the temple on that mountain. The alley leading to the temple doesn't seem to be a gravel road, but rather a cobblestone road. The large stones bounced us around for a short while before we reached the temple gate. We walked in to pay our respects to the monks at the pavilion. The temple grounds were not very large. We only saw a monk who was sweeping leaves in front of the pavilion. From this hilltop temple, the view was not as beautiful as it was from the road. Perhaps beauty also requires the right distance to appreciate it. I had to keep my balance and control the car.

Passing through this road to the original road "use second gear" my friend told me when he felt that the car did not have the power to run up the hill. It may be easy for anyone to just ride a motorcycle. But for me, there are always things to learn and understand. Different periods in life do not use gears to control the drive. But there must be acceleration and deceleration. At each moment, we are the ones who decide. Trial and error by ourselves as well. The car has only 1-4 gears, but the gears of life are probably more than that. More detailed than that. But what the car gear and the human gear should have in common is the neutral gear. Having some is also good.

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Far beyond the edge of the rice field

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The vast expanse of land, crisscrossed with lines and furrows, that people call "rice fields" is so wide that we can't help but wonder if there have ever been any mistakes in planting due to memory lapses. This vastness also invites our feet to brake the car and quietly watch. The rice fields have been prepared for planting, just waiting for a more suitable amount of rain. Soon, rice seedlings ready to grow into rice plants will gather together to form a green field. The height of the rice plants will probably block the edges of the rice fields that we see now, making it seem as if this field is a vast expanse stretching as far as the eye can see, like a long mountain range where we cannot distinguish where each peak separates. Just like the distance we have traveled, the length of the road is equal to the length of the mountain.

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Questions that are answers

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It seems that the two of us are still not going anywhere because of the slow speed of the car and the frequency of stopping to see the sights along the way. Cow traffic is still visible from time to time. While sitting on the seat of the two-wheeled machine, I thought of meeting a bridge over the river with a view of a steep mountain beside the end of the river. "Ban Pha Tang" is the name of that village. The car rental shop said that when you reach the bridge at Ban Pha Tang, another 3 kilometers will take you to Pha Hom. The mountain on the left side still beckons us to stop the car and come down to spend time breathing together all the time.



I don't know how far I've ridden, neither the distance nor the time. The mountains are farther from the road than before. A wide clearing slopes down from the road to the left, leading the eye to two mountains that look like a woman lying on her back with large breasts. My friend invites me to turn and park the car. It's a wide-open space, with no fences to stop us.



At the end of the vast field, there was a long river that ran parallel to the road, but it had only just come into view. The islands in the middle of the river prevented the long, wide river from being too desolate. Villagers were fishing in pairs in the distance. "How happy can you be?" (How happy can you be?) A phrase that I often say when I am happy. It is a phrase that came out of a Laotian boy in the first year of middle school many years ago. From a conversation on the bridge over the U River in Ngoy Mai City, Lao PDR, about the happiness of the way of life of people fishing in the evening.

We stood looking at the view from the top of this field, all the way down to the riverbank. Villagers rode their motorbikes past us. "Hello," he said with a smile. We replied with the same word. At the riverbank, we looked on in silence for a moment. "The phone should be able to send ozone, right?" My friend opened the silence with a sentence from his younger colleague. It makes you wonder what it would be like if it really could. But would the ozone sent be as refreshing as the point where you breathe it in here?

"Will I ever be happy?" popped into my head again.

You don't have to waste time looking for an answer because the question itself is the answer.

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Through the longing

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We rode our two-wheeled four-stroke engine for several stretches. The rain, sometimes small, sometimes large, did not make our journey worse. Instead, it made the atmosphere better. The mountaintop looked more humid. The car headed through a curve and then came across a bridge. I glanced at the sign at the head of the bridge that said "Khua Nam Song", so I knew that about twenty kilometers away, it was still the Nam Song River area. The view from the motorcycle seat was no different from the view from the bus or van that I had often passed through to go to Luang Prabang.

Just seeing it again fills me with joy. This is "Ban Pha Tang," and I ease off the accelerator to get a better look at both sides of the bridge. To the left, a river meanders and then disappears near the mountain that stands prominently ahead. I don't feel like stopping to admire this beautiful sight that I've missed so much. I don't know if it's because I'm satisfied with having passed through this nostalgia once again, or because I know we'll definitely see each other again on the way back.


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Destination

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The starting point of this trip to Pha Hom was my excitement at meeting a one-legged owl that the owner of the Champala Lao guesthouse had been raising in the middle of last year. This led to my curiosity about the origin of this bird, and it was the first time I had heard the name "Pha Hom Market".

Not far from Pha Tang, the mountains on either side make us feel surrounded, hence the name Pha Hom or Pha Lom. The shops with corrugated iron roofs are scattered among some houses, stretching for about two hundred meters along this road. This is called the market. There are ordinary things for sale, such as various vegetables, some familiar, some not. There are also strangely shaped mushrooms, stones that resemble diamonds, medicinal liquor in bottles of various sizes, Leuang Pha oil for bruises, massage oils with all sorts of properties according to the sales pitch of the auntie selling them, live crabs from the small stream behind the shop, and many strange and beautiful birds caged together. I wanted to take a picture of the one that looked like a rat but much bigger. I bent down and pressed the shutter a few times. When I looked up, I saw the seller, who seemed to have been watching us since we stopped in front of the shop.

"You can look, but you can't take pictures," the seller replied, explaining her rules to me. I smiled awkwardly and hurried past.




In a society where photography is virtually unrestricted and unregulated, I have become increasingly aware of how easily I have overlooked personal rights. We capture images at our whim, often neglecting to respect the subjects of our photographs or the property of their owners, which we intend to preserve as personal memories through our lenses. I reflected on this during a moment of respite from the rain in a grocery store. The sound of falling rain, the gurgling of water, and the rhythmic pounding of a mortar and pestle echoed from within.

The smell of burning flesh from the burning of wild squirrels, several birds in a cage with more than one cage jumping around, turtles slowly trying to climb the narrow cage, hundreds of crabs piled up in a closed square grid. Seeing these images was exciting in the first few seconds, but as I walked around, my heart sank. The freedom of the birds, the turtles, the crabs is only at the small cage door, and the forest is so close that their small eyes can see the free space that was once theirs.

The lack of freedom makes us see the freedom we have more clearly. Sometimes, as humans, we like to build cages for ourselves, weaving them little by little with various rules. As days go by, the weave becomes denser, thicker, and surrounds us, making it difficult to escape. There is only one key that can free us from what we have created, and that key is called "heart." Only we have it.



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The Real Destination

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After walking around the Pha Hom market until the rain stopped, we nodded instead of saying, "Let's go back." It seemed like it wasn't even half past morning yet. We parked our car at the foot of the Pha Tang concrete bridge and walked to stand and look at the view on both sides of the bridge in detail again. The village, embraced by the road, the temple, the river, and the mountains, welcomed our arrival.


The path to the temple is next to the concrete bridge. The stairs are only a few dozen steps. The handrails are in the shape of a naga shaking its tail, leading us to the courtyard above. The temple is located on a hill. The chapel and the pavilion look similar to the temples in our country. The light green lawn leads us to the three-story bell tower and the archway. The mountains are stacked on top of each other, accompanied by the rain, making the scene in front of us even more special.



As we ascended the stairs to the Sala Phra Karng Chan Phel, a group of villagers followed us and then disappeared behind the sala. Curious, I followed them and found a temple gate with a staircase leading down. The handrails were in the shape of a naga, similar to the ones at the front, as if they were guiding us down to the village below. I decided to admire the beauty from above. The houses were scattered, with trees growing sporadically all the way to the Pha Tang mountain. Beyond that, there was a long, high mountain range. The view was simply breathtaking.



It reminds me of the famous line from the movie The Secret Life of Walter Mitty: "Beautiful things don't ask for attention."

"True beauty...doesn't demand attention."



I like to look at the scenery from a high place. It allows us to see the overall picture of the place. There may not be many details, but we will see it differently from the angle of the same plane. Many people have said that if the problem you encounter is big, don't stand in the way of the problem. Walk out and look at it from a distance. The size of the problem will not be the same. Or if you don't have the strength to walk out, keep watching the problem. It will change and resolve. That means it will definitely pass.



If Pha Hom is like someone who has been recommended to me, Pha Tang might be someone I only know by name. We passed each other by, but we didn't know each other. After getting to know each other through observation, the true destination of this short trip might not be Pha Hom, as intended, but rather meeting Pha Tang, whom we had intended to pass by from the beginning.


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Redundant happiness

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After our last glance at the cliff, we rode our bikes slowly as usual, still looking at the scenery on both sides of the road as a way of saying goodbye.





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As noon approached, we stopped for lunch at the Organic Farm, which was just what we needed at that moment. Soft sticky rice, delicious fish salad, hot mixed vegetable soup, and a refreshing glass of chilled mulberry juice. While we were eating, the truck carrying people, inner tubes, and kayaks arrived at the pier below in a steady stream. My friend and I started thinking about the 250 baht of happiness we had experienced the day before. Instead of going to Ban Tha Ruea as we had planned, we turned the car around and went back to our accommodation to change into the same wet clothes we had worn the day before. There's no need to explain how much we enjoyed repeating the experience of letting ourselves drift along the Song River again. It was pure bliss.


DAY 3

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Farewell Morning

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The last morning in Vang Vieng of this trip, after breakfast, we let time pass by at the Puban coffee shop, bought souvenirs, and walked back to get our bags at the guesthouse. As we crossed the wooden bridge to the bus stop, the hand that gripped the railing made of ordinary bamboo seemed like a handshake to say goodbye that we might not see each other again. Soon, the wooden bridge over the Song River where we are standing will be washed away by the river during the flood season. A new one will be built every year with the cooperation of some accommodations in the late rainy season and early winter to welcome the arrival of the next generation of travelers. The next time I come here, I will probably see a bridge that may not be different, but it will definitely not be the old one.

We walked to the old airport area, the same spot where we got off the bus on the day we arrived. The van station from Vang Vieng to Vientiane sold us tickets for 200 baht (if you buy from the shops that sell day trips, they will sell you for 240 baht). If it were in the past, at the beginning of my journey, going home would be like a flower being burned by the sun, starting to wither. And from traveling more often, growing up, and many things not going as I wished, it made me start to understand the law of change more. The farewell is telling us that we "might" meet again, and not knowing "when" and "how long" makes the encounter always more valuable.


Three hours later, the van dropped us off at the Northern Bus Terminal. The bus to the Morning Market was already waiting for us, and soon we arrived at the Morning Market. The bus conductor's voice shouted from afar, "Bridge, bridge." It seemed that the return trip today would be quick, as if to send us off in time to buy our train tickets back. We stopped by Duty Free to buy some souvenirs and found out that they offer a high exchange rate here (when I went, the general rate was 240 kip, but here they offered 250 kip).

We then crossed the border in the same order as before. We lifted our bags from the luggage scanner on the Thai side and walked out of the checkpoint for about 100 meters. On the left was the Nong Khai-Udon Thani bus stop (50 baht/person). The bus wasn't going too fast. My friend and I sat in the back seat, four seats for the two of us. We sat close to the left and right windows, respectively. We were in the online world for a while and then looked away from it. There was no conversation between us. Looking out the window at this time might be a way for us to open up and talk to our own recent memories.


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Express train waiting

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A little over an hour later, the van pulled up at the Udon Thani Bus Terminal (near Central Plaza). The time on my wristwatch flickered, reminding me that there was no time to indulge in the slow pace any longer. The train was about to depart. I ran to buy some rice for my friend and negotiated the price of a three-wheeled taxi. In less than five minutes, the taxi arrived at the train station. In front of the station, there were many food stalls, like a night market. There was really no time to show off. I went straight to buy tickets, my friend bought some water, and we ran to the train together. Before we could even sit down properly, the train door closed and the wheels started to move along the iron tracks. I put down my bag, sat down, and sighed with relief. I thanked the slowness of the Thai train, which had benefited us this time.

The journey slowly passed by each second, passed and passed again. It began with a departure and ended with a return. This time was no different.


See you again... when the wallet has money

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