Tubing in Vang Vieng

Tubing in Vang Vieng, no wonder it's South East Asia's backpackers rite of passage. We woke up to thick, low clouds and cool weather, not ideal by any means for spending all day floating down a cold river. After breakfast, Sam, Jen, and I had conceded to forget tubing and instead spend the day exploring the countryside on our motorbikes. We drove a few kilometers north of town and pulled off the main road when we spotted a small, hand painted sign indicating that there were caves nearby. Following the subsequent signs, we left our bikes at the entrance to a village, an old footbridge that didn't look sturdy enough to handle the passage of 3 motorbikes. The village was swarming with children, most of whom were bathing in the creek flowing through the center of the village. The other children followed us, giggling to the cave. Turns out there was an entrance fee for the cave, so we turned back.

The day's warmth had started to pick up and we each began shedding a few layers. Tubing was starting to sound better and better. The sun tried to peek out from behind the ominous looking clouds, but mostly his attempts were shrouded. Oh, lets just do it, I said to the group. Wwe're here, we have to tube. And so we did. We drove back into town, paid for our giant tractor inner tubes, hopped on the tuk tuk to the starting point, and we were off! Within minutes of splashing into the river, we approached the first bar. Tons of Lao people were trying to persuade us to stop for a drink, bamboo poles in hand ready to pull us to shore, Bob Marley humming from the loud speakers. We kept floating. A small set of rapids, around a bend, and then we see it. Spring Break. Hundreds of bikini-clad, Beer Lao drinking, 20-somethings dancing to bass-bumping American hip hop, swinging from 20 meter high trapezes launching themselves into the river below. Where in the world are we? We stopped at the first bar we came upon, welcomed by a sign claiming Free Jumping, Free Bananas. This is my kind of place.

The people watching was fantastic--hoards of British gap year kids stumbling over each other, drunk and trippin' on god knows what, middle-aged men dancing in the middle of the river trying to reclaim their youth. It was like being transported to the set of MTV Springbreak.

After finishing my beer, I scramble up the ladder to the platform above. Momentarily I stopped to read the bright yellow sign. Jump right, shallow on the left. Oh great. How can I possibly aim when I'm about to jump off a platform holding onto a trapeze that's dangling precariously from a crane barely clutching onto the side of a mountain? Three...two...one says a voice behind me. I'm flying, oh my gosh this is so much fun, I can't believe I'm in Laos! At the peak of the swing's pendulum I let go, falling, falling, falling, until I splashed into the river below. I didn't aim far enough to the right, well I can't say I made any attempts to guide my descent at all, and my toes scraped the river's rocky bottom. You guys have to do it! I shouted.

And so it continued all afternoon. Floating from one bar to the next, drinking beers and watching all of the wild people who I was sharing this experience with make complete fools of themselves. By the time we got back, it was nearly dark and cold. We were starving and couldn't stop talking about devouring a plate of hot, crispy spring rolls. After a wait that seems to drag on into eternity, the spring rolls arrived. They were better than I could have imagined. What a great day! Tubing in Vang Vieng is an absolute must.