A long weekend in Luang Prabang – Laos ancient town where authentic travel experiences still exist, for now
- The daily distribution of alms to monks is evidence of the city’s commitment to tradition, but it is not the only one
- Best explored on foot, a slower pace suits the relaxed atmosphere of the architecturally gifted town
There’s a single overriding reason to fast-track Luang Prabang to the top of any travel bucket list, and that is the railway line that is currently being built between Kunming, in China, and Vientiane, Laos’ capital. It doesn’t take a venerable Laotian soothsayer to prophesy that once the trains are running right past this jewel of a Unesco heritage site – ancient kingdom and an architectural treasure house – it is going to become more than a little tarnished.
Luang Prabang’s fans list the Royal Palace Museum as the prime exemplar of times past, and the daily distribution of alms to monks at dawn as evidence of a thriving tradition. But it’s the town’s timeless, peaceful ambience that is its true intangible heritage.
The rail line is expected to open in 2021 and developers are already eyeing up the potential of sites outside the Unesco boundary. For anyone with a hankering for authentic Asian travel experiences, the next step should be fairly logical.
Where to stay
It was inevitable that the planet’s larger brand hotels should regard Luang Prabang’s attractions, visitor numbers and paucity of upscale accommodation and that their accountants would put three and three together. Rosewood, Sofitel, Aman and Belmond, to name but four, have flung wide their doors in recent years. Without exception, they’re very good. But they’re all just a bit too big for Luang Prabang, with its gentle suggestions of Lilliput.
Elsewhere in the world, entrepreneur and conservation activist Lamphoune Voravongsa might get her own television chat show, but in Luang Prabang she disdains anything so bogus as celebrity to get on with running her hotel, Satri House. Formerly the residence of Prince Souphanouvong, its clutch of 31 rooms and suites have been imaginatively restored (Hmong bed runners, Bakelite rotary dial telephones) to make it one of the most alluring boutique hotels in Asia. Regular rooms start at US$145.
Less pecunious travellers could try dropping their bags at one of a number of clean, comfortable, teak-floored guest-houses in walking distance of the main attractions, with nightly rates around an eminently reasonable US$15.
What to buy
Each evening from about 5pm onwards, Luang Prabang’s main drag – Thanon Sisavangvong – gradually metamorphoses into a night market. Like any such bazaar, it’s a treat just to come here and browse, but the true distinguishing mark is the lack of noise: no blaring music, no traders crying their wares, nobody arguing the toss over price or quality.
The best handicrafts are just that: locally made according to traditional design and practice, and very often it’s the craftsman or woman (or their mum) who’s doing the selling. That there’s some factory-made stuff is inevitable but it shouldn’t evade a common-sense examination.
Favourite buys include mulberry paper notebooks, stuffed animals made from recycled fabric, embroidered bags, hand-woven scarves and one-size-fits-all slippers embroidered with elephants. At US$3 each, a single pair really isn’t enough of a souvenir. Regular shops in town open throughout the day stock similar wares, but there’s more choice at the market.
What to eat
Khao kha moo translates as “pork leg rice”, though this fails to convey the painstaking effort that goes into its preparation: hours simmering on a low flame to make the meat juicy and tender. Luang Prabang’s other culinary star is Laotian-style fried rice, which includes generous portions of basil with fish or pork.
Lao tea, coffee and whisky all have their adherents, and few can resist a Luang Prabang juice bar’s liquid combinations of fruit and veg. And we have French colonists to thank for baguettes, baked daily and toothsomely stuffed with a variety of Asian and Western ingredients.
Getting around
Best option is probably a morning flight to Bangkok (half a dozen or more carriers of various shapes, sizes and liveries) and after a brief transit at Suvarnabhumi International up to Luang Prabang on Bangkok Airways, for around US$225 return, arriving in time for an early sundowner. Connections via Hanoi and Chiang Mai are not so smooth. Road and river links to and from Luang Prabang fall squarely into the Indiana Jones category.
Taxis and tuk-tuks vie for business at the airport: US$7 is the standard fare to the town centre. A certain amount of haggling may mark the start of the journey. Hotels, guest houses and a smattering of entrepreneurs rent bicycles for around US$2 a day. Foreigners are officially discouraged from hiring motorbikes.
Finally: wheels are good, but legs are better. Luang Prabang is designed to be taken at walking pace.
Plus
Norman Lewis did it first and did it best. Travelling in Laos when it was a French protectorate not long after the second world, he not only painted a beautiful, tender portrait of a country that had barely changed in centuries, but also had the foresight to realise that such nigh blissful isolation could only last a few years more. A Dragon Apparent (1951)covers his time in Laos as well as neighbouring Cambodia and Vietnam.
Dervla Murphy’s One Foot in Laos (1999) is, apart from anything else, an evocation of solo travel, whatever your gender. While she’s evidently enjoying herself every step of the way, this is no starry-eyed travelogue, as her condemnation of deforestation makes abundantly clear.
And: fiction or not-very-thinly disguised fact? Spy-turned-novelist John le Carré spent several weeks on the ground researching The Honourable Schoolboy (1977), a rollicking tale that sends its protagonist stumbling through the conflicts that beset Laos and much of Southeast Asia in the 1970s.
