We awoke earlyish on the morning of the 1st so that I could get a cup of supposedly-awesome coffee (it was good, but I wouldn’t have another) and then catch the 8:30 bus from the village. No problem. Except that, after speaking to a French woman, we learned that there is no 8:30 bus from the village. You catch it from the market (yep that same market where I couldn’t buy rice). We had ten minutes to get there, so we were going to need a ride from a local. Fortunately, the French owners across the street decided to be generous and let us climb into the side cart with the French woman they were taking up there already. We made it onto the bus, headed back to Pakse, where we’d transfer onto another bus to take us north to Thakhek. Bus driver told us when we’d reached the spot where we needed to catch a tuk tuk into town, so we got off and told the French woman that we’d been told to get off for Pakse. She followed; we piled into a big tuk tuk and got taken to town. No problem. Except that she was heading south and we didn’t know. The southern-bound buses don’t go from town; their station is 8km out of town, where that bus we’d gotten off was heading. There’s some lingering confusion in my mind about why she got off the bus if she knew the bus went to the right station, but, at any rate, we have now inadvertently annoyed two French travellers and I have sworn off any further attempts to be helpful while on a bus.
Tadlo to Thakaek should take about eight hours: two to get to Pakse, six to get to Thakaek. First leg was roughly on schedule. Once in Pakse, we had an hour to wait for the bus, though, so we went and grabbed some rather excellent pho (fuh) for lunch and then had to gulp it down when our bus came early. Early?! First and last time that word will probably be used to describe anything to do with our trip in Laos. We boarded the bus, having checked multiple times that it was for Thakhek (the premature departure was making us nervous) and settled in for what we figured would be a straightforward run up the main road north. No problem. Except that we had to stop for food. Then for the bathroom. Then for gas. In between all this, we were also stopping to collect new passengers or let existing passengers disembark. Average speed: 30km/hr would be generous. Then we had to stop in Savannakhet (Savanvegas, as one casino sign declared it) at the bus depot. Only till 7, that’s okay. We bought a couple sticks of grilled mystery meat that Rich thought was chicken. After making comparisons, I concluded that I had chicken (white-ish with an orange tinge) and Rich had pork (grey-ish with an orange tinge – clearly, pork is not “the other white meat” in Laos). Both resembled couch leather more than farm meats and came with an interesting-looking sauce that I’m pretty sure had a fish sitting in it. Back to the bus to check on our departure. No, 8pm. Restless meandering through the station, looking at sweets, then down past the shops, looking at grilled meats. Instead of getting frustrated, we had a congenial conversation about creative means of transport that could’ve gotten us to our destination faster. Our options: a Big Wheel tricycle (thank you, 1980s!), a donkey, walking. Back to the bus. No, 9pm. We met Ban, who had been sat across from me on the bus and who spoke about four words of English, but was excited to buy Rich some beer and insisted I have a Coke if I didn’t want beer. FINALLY, the bus moved at about 8:45. Time to go, so we boarded… and sat for another half hour while they idled in another bus bay. It was well after 9pm when we left Savannakhet. I managed to sleep for an hour and a half. When I woke up, I was convinced that we weren’t going to find ourselves in Thakaek tonight; I had no doubt that we were going to get stuck on this bus until 5am, when Ban said it would be arriving in Vientiane. Much to my relief, Rich went and asked about Thakaek and was told we’d be there in five minutes. By “five minutes”, they actually meant “thirty seconds”, but I didn’t care. We had finally made it!
We paid an extortionate amount to be taken to Thakhaek Travel Lodge, splurged on the $15 room, kicked a cockroach out of the bathroom and luxuriated in the now-air-conditioned room as it slowly cooled. Sixteen hours after leaving on an eight hour trip to Thakhaek, we had finally made it. We even had a minibar! Somewhere in the background, I swore I heard the theme to “Gilligan’s Island” playing. An “eight hour tour,” indeed.
Grateful for: a seat in anything that isn’t a bus
