Drifting Down the Mekong: A Journey to Laos

Leaving Chiang Mai meant one last adventure — climbing the famous Sticky Waterfalls, where limestone makes the rocks grippy enough to hike straight up the cascades. With ropes to help along the way, we scrambled to the top, laughing at the odd feeling of fish nipping at our legs in the pools below. A thunderstorm chased us back on the hour ride home, rain soaking us before our final evening in the city. We wrapped it up with one more Muay Thai lesson at Pinpetch Gym — our toughest and best yet — before hitting a night market for food and calling it an early night.

The next morning, backpacks strapped and 7/11 toasties in hand, we piled into a van bound for Laos. It was a full crew: Stella (Belgian), Thomas (a conservation biologist who runs the Gibbon Experience in Laos), two Dutch brothers, an Israeli guitarist, and a loud Canadian trio who quickly earned the “worst passengers” award. Along the way, we stopped at Chiang Rai’s White Temple, gleaming against a stormy sky, and ate kao soi at a local spot Thomas knew. He spoke about his work in conservation and ecotourism — it was the kind of unexpected road conversation that makes the miles fly by.

By late afternoon, we crossed the border into Laos. After long waits, $57 visas, and a few guitar songs to pass the time, we made it into the country and crashed in a border town hotel. At dinner, we reconnected with Zack, a friend from Bangkok, and met Luisa, a German backpacker who quickly clicked with Stella.

The real adventure began the next morning: the slow boat down the Mekong River. Picture a long, rickety boat lined with old car bench seats, powered by a truck engine bolted to the back. For two days, it became our world. The boat stopped often to pick up locals, sacks of rice, animals, and anything else that needed to move along the river. The ride itself was magic — dramatic mountain scenery sliding by, swirling brown currents, and hours that somehow passed in laughter, card games, music, and long conversations with fellow travelers.

Our first night stop was Pakbeng, a halfway town where all the boats empty out. It was small, crowded, and littered, but Hive Bar turned it into a social hub. We shot pool, swapped stories over Beer Lao, and watched the sunset melt into the mountains. Backpackers filled the town’s handful of streets, and the night had that perfect mix of chaos and camaraderie.

The second day on the river was even better. A larger boat, cushioned booths instead of car seats, and calmer water made for a more comfortable ride. We sat up front — far from the deafening engine — and spent the day with new friends: Lee from New Zealand, Brendan from Australia, Leo from Ukraine, and others. Between pink dragon fruit, shared snacks, and card games, the eight-hour ride felt like no time at all.

By evening, we reached Luang Prabang, where the Mekong slows into a wide bend and the mountains hug the city. After settling in, we dove straight into the sprawling night market, a maze of food stalls and handicrafts. My dinner experiment of stuffed bullfrog was… memorable, though not photo-worthy. Later, we found the city’s quirky nightlife solution: a bowling alley that doubles as the only bar open past midnight. With neon lights, backpackers filling every lane, and endless rounds of Beer Lao, it was one of the most surreal yet fun nights of the trip so far.

The following days in Luang Prabang blended adventure and downtime. We climbed Phousi Hill (200 meters straight up in the center of town) for sweeping 360° views. We rented mopeds to explore the city and beyond. A highlight was the trip to Kuang Si Waterfall, a cascade of turquoise pools hidden deep in the forest. While most people swam at the base, we hiked above to a quiet mineral spring where hundreds of butterflies filled the air. We had the place to ourselves — just the sound of rushing water, dogs at our feet, and a reminder of why it’s worth straying from the main path.

Nights kept their rhythm: street food dinners, a few rounds of billiards at Aussie Bar, and more bowling alley chaos. Luang Prabang felt both laid-back and full of energy, a city where mornings meant strong coffee by the river and nights ended with laughter and music.

Saying goodbye wasn’t easy. Stella and Luisa headed south toward Vang Vieng while we prepared to go north. The goodbyes were softened by one last stroll through the night market, sharing fried rice and sticky rice over the Mekong, and even an impromptu guitar session with a digital nomad from Italy.

Today, Chris and I leave for Nong Khiaw, a mountain town known for camping, jungle trekking, and quiet river views. After the Mekong, Luang Prabang, and new friendships made along the way, it feels like Laos is just getting started.