Letters from Indochina (Part 37)

This entry is part 37 of 39 in the series Letters from Indochina

May 6, 2025

Letters from Indochina (Part 37)

By Simon J. Lau

This morning I finally joined the one-day tour to explore the area surrounding Nong Khiaw. (I had to cancel yesterday’s attempt after the vendor delayed our start by over an hour.) We started by boarding a traditional long-tail boat and heading upstream along the Nam Ou River — a scenic tributary of the Mekong that cuts through northern Laos. Like much of the region, the river is flanked by towering limestone cliffs and dense jungle.

At one point, the river narrowed and the current intensified. I’d seen other boats hugging the shoreline, where the flow was calmer. But our captain veered off-course, right into the main current. I quickly realized there was a chance we’d capsize. I stuffed my DSLR into a dry bag just as water started splashing in. My guide, sitting in front of me, quietly handed me a life jacket. That’s when I knew shit was getting real.

Fortunately, the captain managed to keep us steady. Had he veered too far in either direction, the current could’ve easily flipped over our narrow boat. Eventually, we drifted into some riverside brush and got tangled for a moment, but he managed to break us free and steer us back on course. I’ll count my blessings where I can.

We eventually reached Muang Ngoi, a sleepy village accessible only by boat. Tucked away in a deep valley, the town feels incredibly remote — just a single dusty main street lined with guesthouses, noodle shops, and chickens weaving between motorbikes. Electricity didn’t arrive until the early 2000s, and even now, life moves slowly. With no roads in or out, everything — and everyone — comes in by river. Although it was only 10 a.m., it was already incredibly hot. After a quick stroll through town, we continued downriver for lunch.

After lunch, we began our trek to Tad Mook Falls, a seasonal waterfall. The trail wasn’t exactly scenic, but it was fascinating. I’ve seen plenty of farm animals in Southeast Asia, but I don’t recall seeing pigs — let alone pigs roaming totally free. Pigs are known to be destructive animals, rooting through soil and tearing up land. But here, they were out and about, foraging freely. I guess folks here just don’t mind it.

We eventually reached Tad Mook. At first, I wasn’t impressed — especially knowing it was a 1.5-hour round-trip hike. But the moment I stepped into the water, I totally fell in love with the place. The temperature was perfect, and after nearly roasting on the trail, it was pure relief to stand under the cool rush of the falls.

My favorite part of the day, though, was handing out candy to kids. Jean gave me the idea after we watched a few travel videos of this area, where the scenes were always full of children. I picked up some jell-o-style snack cups — sealed, easy to toss, and best of all, they float. I handed them out to kids in the villages and even to some swimming near the pier. Even when I missed a throw, the cups would just drift along until someone paddled over and scooped them up. Total hit.

Toward the end of the trip, I had just a couple cups left. When I spotted three kids fishing from a boat nearby, I asked my guide to tell the captain to pull over. We overshot them, so the kids paddled out to meet us. Sadly, I only had two left — so I’m hoping the first two found a way to make it up to the third. What I admire most about these kids is how, even with so little, they still find endless ways to have fun.