A strange day, like so many before, but still different.
It begins with the farewell to Don Khon, wistful as expected, especially the last trip between the islands, the view back to the village fills me with great melancholy.
A thoughtful, silent ride to the north. Then we reach the banks of the Mekong in Champasakh, the river in its old familiar form and wildness. It takes a few minutes to find a boat to take us across the river, but then everything works in no time.
The grinning hotel owner
We're already expected: the hotel owner, mentioned in the guidebook, waits for us, a big smile on his chubby face. He brings me and a Brazilian couple to his superb villa, which turns out to be run-down, but somehow charming establishment. For one night it is ok, but I have to change the room for another one because the first one is too loud, too dirty, too everything.
The terrace of the hotel is directly located above the Mekong, my old friend, whom I will miss painfully. Strange how one can fall in love with something like a river, for the most part heavily contaminated and at places reminiscent of a huge cloaca. One thing is for sure - we'll meet again.
Wat Phou
But Wat Phou is waiting for me. The Laotian variant of Angkor Wat.
Wat Phu is a former temple complex of the Khmer. The ruins are from the 11th to 13th Century. The temple district Wat Phou and the associated ancient settlements in the Champasak cultural landscape have been UNESCO World Heritage Sites since 2001. Wat Phu is located at the foot of Mount Lingamparvata and can be reached from Champasak via a paved road.
So I lean out a bicycle from my friend, the forever grinning hotel owner. From the beginning it seems to me something very used, as if it would hardly make the next hundred meters, but my instinct, which so far reliably predicted potential problems for me, fails today. But one after another ….
Stamps? … Not today
There's a lot to do today. First step, the post office. I've been carrying the postcard for my mother-in-law with me for a long time now. So today is the last chance to send it from Laos. And indeed – in the middle of the village there is a post office.
It turns out to be a tiny cottage with a semi-dark counter behind which a whole family, at least three generations long, crouches. I already suspect the disaster. My question about stamps (stamps?) is not exactly acknowledged with laughter, but the boss of the house cannot resist a certain pitiful grin. There are no stamps today, they are only available again on Monday. On Monday? Then new stamps will be delivered?
Stamps at all? In a post office? Just the question ...
Therefore my holiday greetings from Laos must wait. Maybe from Thailand.
A wanted person in the bank
Next stop, the bank. Some 7-8 people are sitting in the well-cooled room, obviously having nothing to do and therefore desperately waiting for customers. As a potential one, I should represent the highlight of the day so to speak, the rescue from bad need. But far from it.
The boss, dressed in a distinguished way, is calling me to take off my sunglasses first with a harsh voice. At first I think of a joke, but no, he seems to be serious. All right, I decide to play the game.
Something about my person doesn't seem to suit him at all. Eight pairs of eyes stare at a photocopy, which they compare again and again with my passport photo. Now I am a little irritated and ask myself about the reason for the strange behaviour. It takes a while until I get the information. Apparently, the police are looking for a Swiss guy, who I can't deny a certain resemblance to my portrait.
My roaring laughter finally convinces them of my innocence, and I leave the bank– the still suspicious look of the boss in my back – with a pleasant feeling of triumph. And the cash of course ...
Wat Phou remains a phantom
All this should have been warning enough. The way to Wat Phou is long (8 km), hot and thanks to an eternally long construction site in very bad condition, especially for a bike like mine (as it was called in Wikipedia - a well paved road?).
When the chain on the rear wheel falls out for the first time, I don't think too much yet. It is quickly returned to its original position, which stupidly weighs me down again in a false sense of security. But the incidents repeat in a disturbing cadence. Out again, in again, no wonder with these road conditions. But then the inevitable happens: the chain jumps out at the front tyre, and so I'm screwed. Without tools a thing of impossibility to solve the problem.
I'm lucky in misfortune, because I've end up in civilization, so to speak. There's a hairdresser's nearby, so after a moment's thought I leave my bike there and start walking. It has now become even hotter, even more exhausting.
And it is already quite late, the sun is already quite low on the horizon. According to my estimation there are still several kilometres to Wat Phou, so it might already be dark when I am there. The decision to give up is not easy for me, but it is reasonable.
And so a little later, grumbling and cursing, I'm on my way back home with my damaged bike. It is quite laborious on the bad road. To my surprise, some passersby stop to ask if help is needed. A local guy tries everything, but in vain. I am touched by the spontaneous help.
An old Japanese guy expresses sympathy for the unfortunate cyclist on foot and accompanies me a few miles. His English is very good and I have to admit that I learn more about Japan in this short time than all those years before.
So it takes some time to finally arrive at the hotel. The hotel owner writhes with laughter as I tell him about my mishap. At least I don't have to pay for the bike and he seems quite proud about his strike of generosity.
I take dinner in a restaurant opposite, a pizza, not bad at all. And then I go to sleep after the eventful day, the last night in Laos.
P.S. Matching Song: Apparat ft. Soap & Skin - Goodbye
And here the journey continues ...
