Up the Nam Tha - Laos, South East Asia

I thought we were going to crash, though it didn’t concern me that much.

The boat was heading directly towards a large tree, jutting out from the banks of the Nam (river) Tha at full speed. Avoidance seemed impossible. The local man stood firm at the head of the boat with a long bamboo pole trying his best to steer up river through rapids. I was contemplating the inevitable crash and its potential outcome, when with sudden finesse the boat took a sharp right, narrowly missing impact. A large whoop came from the boatman and his wife and a collective sigh of relief from the rest.

We had escaped disaster.

I had thought that in order to charter a boat, one must be a fat, cigar smoking, and champagne swilling rich man with no less than three ex-wives. That, or Jay-Z. It turns out you can be a 24 year-old unemployed traveller.

Richard and I had just crossed the border from Thailand into Laos and were anxiously awaiting adventure. Wanting to avoid Falangs (foreigners/tourists) like a bad rash we decided to charter a small fishing boat up the rarely travelled Nam Tha. We pounded the pavement and eventually convinced three intrepid travellers to split the costs, effectively taking people on our very first tour. * Richard and I walked past Immigration and down to the river. A price was negotiated in the sand with sticks. We would set sail in the morning.

It was 8am. Our bags were packed and we were ready to go. We wished ourselves a bon voyage and left the confines of solid land. For the next two days the river would be our road.

Life is simple on the Nam Tha.

We spent the first day gob-smacked by the beauty around us. The river carved its way through limestone cliffs, rice paddies, forested land and villages. Water buffalo lazed around in mud pits. Pigs ran amuck through waist high blades of grass. Chickens ran away from the grasp of mischievous children and ducks waddled around with their ducklings.

Roads don’t exist along the Nam Tha. Instead, narrow footpaths connect the villages sporadically dotted along the river. Goods and cargo, including live chickens and goats are transported on handmade boats, no bigger than a canoe. Men and their young sons dive in their underwear for supper with homemade spears.

Night was upon us and our faithful fisherman and his wife stopped along the shore. They beckoned for us to follow the path into a village – his village. We spent the evening eating bamboo shoot soup.

Day two and we continued up the river. We eventually reached our destination. Life was good. Life on the Nam Tha was simple. And beautiful. And I liked that.

-Tossed Sallard-