Sinlasone Soumpholphakdy laughs with disarming regularity but when he speaks it is of serious things. Let’s just call him S. So S is the proprietor of Sala Prabang, a boutique hotel in the world heritage town of Luang Prabang, and my host. Lao has the unfortunate distinction of being the most bombed country on the planet. But you wouldn’t know it, sitting by the Mekong in this quaint, rapturous town. “We don’t talk about the war because it was a time of suffering,” says S. I hurl my next naïve question at him. Aren’t the Laotians angry with the Americans? “The people were too busy saving their lives. They didn’t even know who was bombing them,” says S. This with a wide smile. He points to the languid Mekong, the misty mountains beyond, the colonial mansions lining the quiet street. Watching the river in this jewel-like town, with bracing Lao coffee to set the conversation flowing, war is indeed a distant drum.
But it was during America’s vicious aerial bombardment in the mid-60s that S left the country on a student scholarship. He eventually ran a thriving architectural practice in Sydney, before returning in the 90s to set up the Sala Lao hotel group. Today, the charming old man is content to mind his fief. But then he lives in the loveliest town on the Mekong. His Sala Prabang, spread across a number of buildings, includes a villa and cottage which were built in 1891 as the residence of a prominent merchant. When S acquired it, the villa had fallen into disrepair. As a practising architect, S added his own distinctive touches. It already had a composite style after all — the airy veranda was French, the columns studding the veranda possibly Roman. Gloriously restored in 2002, the result is startling.
The rooms are small but chic, their hardwood floors at least a century old. In the lobby, the warm glow from a paper lantern bounces off the tiled floor. There are pale lime-washed walls. There is a lightness of touch that reflects a lightness of being. And, in a bold move, there are stone walls (the material is local, so who is to say it is inauthentic, counters S). Perhaps we are witnessing the birth of Lao Nouvelle. “It’s just a beautiful girl I’m dressing up to look more beautiful,” concludes S affectionately.
And it’s a beautiful girl who blocks my path when I emerge into the cold the next morning. She laughs too and cajoles me, but I can’t understand a word. “Khao niaw,” she says finally, handing me banana-leaf parcels of sticky rice, lest I assume worse. In exchange, she pockets a 100,000 kip note from the wad I’m flourishing clumsily. She then leads me to the Wat Xiengmouane Vajiramangalaram on a back street and installs me on a mat, on which I wait patiently for the monks to awake.
In Luang Prabang, a tourist who abandons his bed in that dark hour before dawn has but one divine purpose — to engage in the hoary ritual of Tak Bat, in which believers offer alms to the monks in order to acquire merit. And soon enough, the gongs reverberate and the novices spill out. Meanwhile, I have been joined by a noble-looking Lao lady and a tourist who has garnered himself some bananas. We humbly place our offerings into the alms bags and the monks carry on. As soon as it began, it’s over. But on Sakkaline Road, the town’s main artery, the action is just beginning. First you see the tourists, eager in anticipation, cameras at the ready, either brushing off or being conned by the street vendors supplying offerings at extortionate rates. Then a sea of saffron comes paddling in a single, sombre file. It is a surreal moment, this living fossil of tradition, and the ritual’s draw is evident. Photo-op over, the tour buses vroom off and the street is silent again. The monks are presumably sitting down to breakfast. Me, I’ll settle for a baguette. This Paris café staple has to be France’s most enduring legacy in Indochina, sold at every street corner and sandwiched just the way you want it.
But it was not always so. Visited only by intrepid backpackers till the 1980s, it all changed when Luang Prabang was designated a Unesco World Heritage Site in 1995 for its unique mix of traditional Lao and French colonial architecture and its remarkable state of preservation. Now over a million tourists visit Lao each year and nearly all are headed to tiny Luang Prabang. This is a blessing and has revitalised the town beyond belief. Tourism has brought electricity and running water. With locals appreciating the value of preserving their architectural heritage, old villas have been rescued as charming guesthouses, fine restaurants and craftsy boutiques. This is also its curse, witnessed most tragically in the degeneration of the Tak Bat ritual into a circus, where the tourists are the only clowns. All the accoutrements of a bustling tourist trade are in place — busy riverside cafés, travel agencies, money changers. Even a couple of discos have reared their head in this town of the unbearably beautiful wats.
Luang Prabang is set on an elevated peninsula stretching between the Mekong and its tributary, the Khan. Though its origins are older, the town came into its own with the consolidation of the first Lao kingdom, Lan Xang Hom Khao (Land of a Million Elephants and the White Parasol) here in 1353. Rising El Dorado-like among impenetrable mountains, the city was soon renamed Xiang Dong Xiang Thong (City of Gold). In 1512, the Pha Bang, Lao’s iconic Buddha image, was installed here and so the present name. Over the centuries, as many as 65 wats came up in Luang Prabang, but many were destroyed during the sacking of the city in 1887. After Lao became a French protectorate in 1893, the French began reconstruction.
Colonial civic buildings were constructed between 1909 and 1925, with operations being administered from the French Civil Works Service in Saigon. While traditional Lao houses were made of wood and on stilts, in the colonial era the ground floor was enclosed, creating living spaces that hadn’t existed before. Chinese traders brought shophouses and the row of commercial buildings on the main street gives the town its urban feel. “A small, somnolent and sanctified Manhattan island,” Norman Lewis wrote in 1957.
In the heart of the frenetic heritage zone, I check into an island of calm — Les 3 Nagas. Like Sala Prabang, the 3 Nagas straddles several buildings (three to be precise) on both sides of Sakkaline Road. The hotel oozes oomph from the word go — even the car they send to pick me up is a classic 1957 Merc. The home of a French family was acquired by French-Canadian architect Pascal Tehan and transformed into Luang Prabang’s most stylish stay. Recently, the management of the hotel was taken over by Alila Hotels, so it is now more properly called 3 Nagas by Alila. But nothing about the hotel is going to change, Maxime Rachel, the sprightly new manager, fresh off the boat from the Seychelles, assures me. However, Alila will take their ‘surprisingly different’ tagline to exciting new places. Alila lays special emphasis on experiencing the destinations their properties are set in, experiences to be booked through a dedicated leisure concierge. And so ‘luxury shopping’ (‘luxury window shopping’, in my case) at Ock Pop Tok (East Meets West), a textile boutique Joanna Smith abandoned cold and clammy England to set up with local weaver Veomanee Duangdala.
The Ock Pop Tok Weaving Centre, at the other end of town, offers visitors an intimate glimpse into Lao’s textile traditions. A lady sits in a pavilion by the river doing something that I only know as kalamkari. I observe young weavers tease exotic patterns from the weft, followed by a crash course in dyeing with natural pigments. But I truly appreciate the remarkable skill required to create these gorgeous fabrics when I sit down to weave myself. Once I get the hang of it, I produce a pretty pattern on the loom. The Alila experience continues at ‘Cultural House’, the chaotic base of Nithakhong Somsanith’s operations. A member of the erstwhile royal family, Nith had to leave the country in the wake of the revolution. He is now back to revive Lao traditions like gold thread embroidery, ceremonial floral arrangements and the Lao violin (all part of the regal training of a princeling).
Dinner is at the much-feted Lao restaurant at the 3 Nagas. Conceived by Gilles Vautrin and Yannick Upravan, it’s full every night. It’s easy to see why. I’m swiftly able to strike off items from my checklist of must-eats. It’s all on the plate: crisp-fried kai phen (river weed), sin doot (sun-dried buffalo meat), jeow bong (sun-dried chilli and buffalo skin paste), nem tadieu (fried crispy coconut rice and sour pork salad), noy maille (stuffed bamboo shoots). All washed down with the national drink of Beer Lao. Burp.
Back in my spacious suite, a mosquito net floats above the inviting bed like a colonial hangover. There’s a garden at my door and the river beyond. The stars are bright as pinpricks. Luang Prabang is already asleep.
If you ever wish to flee what little bustle this town can rustle up, head out to the Grand Luang Prabang resort. Here you can feast on vast views of the Mekong and the Lao countryside. Set in the grounds of the Xieng Keo Palace, formerly home of Prince Phetsareth, the resort’s lush landscaping will revive the most jaded traveller. The palace itself is a vast, echoing museum. Perhaps one day it will be transformed into Luang Prabang’s finest homestay.
Yes, hotels are the hottest story in town for a writer hungry for material. But sometimes you have to cook your own dinner. The plushest and priciest hotel in town has to be Orient Express’s (yes, they of the luxe train) La Résidence Phou Vao. Set high on the Hill of Flying Kites, the silence here is only broken by the splash of goldfish. The new spa looks extremely inviting, but I’m here for a Lao cooking course. I devotedly peel the potatoes, fry the prawns, roll the rolls, then tuck into my efforts. I have three recipes, printed out on hotel sheets, which I can execute competently back home. But am I closer to comprehending this scrumptious cousin of Thai cuisine? I look instead, across the infinity pool, to That Chomsi gleaming in the sun at the summit of Phou Si. Later, when I pant through a grove of frangipani blossoms to the top of the 100m-high hill, the reverse view is stunning. The anti-aircraft cannon sitting nearby is the only remnant of war in an otherwise serene scene.
While the cannon may be food for thought, I need more substantial fodder. The evening finds me knocking yet again at the door of Messrs Gilles and Yannick, the pioneers of Luang Prabang’s food renaissance. A French colonial house that Upravan inherited from his grandmother is the setting of their French restaurant, L’Elephant. Not any French restaurant this, but the finest on the Mekong. It goes the whole frog — Burgundy snails, pan-seared foie gras and, of course, frogs’ legs. If the Tam Tim Garden Restaurant served up Joe Dassin’s syrupy hit ‘Aux Champs-Elysees’ with my baguette, at L’Elephant the only sounds are the sharp clatter of forks, the clink of wineglasses and boundless laughter. It’s as lively as a Parisian bistro.
The names of the offerings are so serpentine we’re unable to print them in this modest magazine. Befuddled by the plethora of options, I latch on to the set menu. I couldn’t have chosen better. The simplicity of the starter — a tomato-mozzarella salad — is deceptive. Slices of cheese on slices of tomato. A few turns of the pepper mill. But how could they have pulled it off without the assured supply of fresh, organic produce from the fertile Mekong valley, to wit these lush Lao tomatoes? The roast quail which follows is similarly stuffed with local mushrooms and arrives in a red forest fruit sauce, on a bed of dauphin potatoes and boiled vegetables smeared with that French pantry staple — warm, comforting butter. The tarte tatin bursts with not one but three fruits. I walk out on my own two feet but am waylaid at the Lotus du Lao massage parlour. Here I have my feet massaged for a full hour — for the princely sum of Rs 120.
But it is in the arms of the Apsara that the weary traveller must come to rest at last. It is at this stylish hotel that the transformation has been most dramatic. Counter-intuitively, it is the one which feels most authentic. Built in 1964 as a storehouse for rice, it served as an English school in later years and finally a French brasserie before being nabbed by Ivan Scholte, a savvy Scotsman who always wanted his own little hotel. Prior to striking roots in this town, Ivan worked in the hotel industry for many years and also served as a wine merchant in Hong Kong. And so this houri, overlooking the Khan. The hotel presently occupies two buildings (and, no, they’re not adjacent!) which scream ‘designer’ in their every aspect. My room, done up in blue (each room is a different colour), is h-u-g-e. There are aromatic rajnigandha blooms in a vase. The turquoise of the textiles plays off beautifully against the whitewashed walls and the old wood of the floor. The masterstroke is the placing of the bathtub in the room itself, thus retaining the generous proportions.
From my balcony, I can take in the street. It’s quiet. For, even in the face of the extraordinary tourist influx, Luang Prabang remains a pool of tranquillity. Afternoons are for games of petang (same same as Pondicherry pétanque) and, on a walk, I spot a bunch of teenagers engrossed in one. I wander into Luang Prabang’s most famous wat — the Xieng Thong, where a tour bus has just expelled its load into the sprawling courtyard. A novice practises his English on an American. The gilt panels, the sim soaring to meet the sky, an artist sketching the scene, it’s all exhilarating. And then a sonorous chanting fills the air. All are free to witness the evening prayers. And even as the flashbulbs go off, shattering the calm, it does not prompt a frown. For that is the Lao way.
We travel to celebrate difference and diversity but end up noticing the similarities. Luang Prabang is what Leh could have been, a town with a rich past, home to a living, breathing culture dictated as much by terrain as tradition and with a pleasing architectural harmony, a ‘look’. While I weep for Leh, I rejoice for Luang Prabang. Despite the seeming overkill, Luang Prabang is still as fresh as a frangipani. Indochina unplugged. Where time has stopped for a long, long time to come.
The information
Getting there
There are no direct flights from India to Lao. You’ll have to fly via Bangkok. Lao Airlines (www.laoairlines.com) and Bangkok Airways (www.bangkokair.com) both fly from Bangkok to Luang Prabang. The round-trip fare from Delhi is about Rs 40,000.
Visa: Lao offers visas on arrival. You can also get yours before leaving from the Embassy of Lao (A-104/7, Parmanand Estate, Maharani Bagh, New Delhi 110065; 011-41327352).
Where to stay
– 3 Nagas by Alila: $114-216, taxes extra; +856-71-253888; www.alilahotels.com/3nagas
– The Apsara: $60-95; 254670, www.theapsara.com. The Apsara also rents out Villa Savanh, a three-bedroom traditional house in the centre of town ($165/low-season, $210/high-season).
– The Grand Luang Prabang: From $110 (Internet rate); 253851-7, www.grandluangprabang.com
– Maison Souvannaphoum: From $160; 254609, www.slh.com/souvannaphoum
– La Résidence Phou Vao: From $298; 212194, www.residencephouvao.com
– Ramayana Boutique Hotel and Spa: From $100; 260600, www.ramayana-laos.com
– Sala Prabang: $60-75; 252460, www.salalao.com
Where to eat
There are numerous al fresco options lining the town’s main thoroughfare, Sisavangvong Road (one stretch of which is called Sakkaline Road). Le Tam Tim Garden Restaurant served me an excellent meal here. On the same road, the Scandinavian Bakery and JoMa Café are both excellent. For the finest French food in town, head to L’Elephant. For Lao food, reserve at least one meal at the 3 Nagas restaurant. You can also try Tamarind and the Three Elephants Café. The Apsara has a superb restaurant doing Asian and European fare. There are two Indian restaurants in town — Nisha and Nazim — which, I’m sad to say, were the seediest-looking establishments in town, although they appeared to be popular. All restaurants do a fair selection of vegetarian dishes.
What to eat
With its emphasis on fresh ingredients, lightly cooked, Lao is one of the friendliest cuisines in the world. Indians will find the liberal use of coriander comforting. Must-eats include the ubiquitous baguette (called khao ji), usually had with ham, tuna or pate. Sticky rice (khao niaw) is the soul of Lao food. Another iconic dish is the laap, a raw meat salad (but most restaurants make it with cooked meat these days). Luang Prabang specialities include kai phen (dried river weed), nang khwai haieng (dried skin of water buffalo), jaew bong (a condiment of chillies and dried buffalo skin) and phak nam (a local watercress). Must-try drinks: Lao coffee (kaa-feh lao); Beer Lao, a fine, frothy brew; khao kam, a sweet wine made from sticky rice; lao lao, the local ‘whisky’.
What to see & do
– Museums: The Royal Palace Museum, for its most prized exhibit, the Pha Bang Buddha. The Traditional Arts and Ethnology Centre (www.taeclaos.org) is a private museum dedicated to the ethnic groups of Lao.
– Wat-hopping: The most important ones are Wat Xieng Thong, Wat Wisunarat, Wat Aham and Wat Mai Suwannaphumaham.
– Tak Bat: The monks’ morning alms round is a moving ritual that’s well worth waking up for.
– Phou Si: Climb this hill in the centre of town for the view.
– Cooking classes: As the ones at La Résidence Phou Vao are for in-house guests only, you could head to Three Elephants Cooking School (www.tamnaklao.net) or Tamarind (www.tamarindlaos.com).
– Weaving: The Ock Pop Tok Weaving Centre offers a hands-on experience of Lao’s intricate weaving traditions. You can opt for half- ($38) or full-day ($45) classes, with a delicious lunch thrown in. To make an ikat scarf, set aside three days ($115). See www.ockpoptok.com
– The Cultural House Puang Champa: A non-profit organisation that preserves and develops the traditional arts of Luang Prabang in their most authentic form. They can organise workshops on a variety of Lao arts as well as baci ceremonies. See www.laoheritagefoundation.org/puangChampa
– Shopping: The night market near the Royal Palace has everything from trinkets to textiles, cloth picture books to snake wine. Ock Pop Tok, Caruso Lao and Kopnoi are excellent boutiques.
Excursions
– Pak Ou caves: Cruise 25km along the Mekong to these caves, bursting with Buddha images.
– Mekong cruise: Short sunset cruises on the Mekong are a dime a dozen, but for a truly memorable journey, book a ride on Asian Oasis’ luxury river barge, Luang Say. The two-day journey to Huay Xai (on the Thai border) includes interactions with hill tribes and a stay at the Luang Say Lodge in Pakbeng. From $358 per person on twin-sharing. See www.asian-oasis.com
– Villages: Ban Xang Hong and Ban Phanom are weaving villages. Ban Sang Khong is noted for its saa paper made from mulberry trees.
Package tours
Trust yourself into the able hands of Indochina Services for a memorable holiday minus the hassle. Their four-day Lao package goes like this. Day 1: Sightseeing in Luang Prabang: Wat Xieng Thong, Wat Wisunalat, Wat Mai, etc. Day 2: Half-day excursion to Pak Ou caves with a stopover at Ban Xang Hai, the jarmaker village. Day 3: Fly to Vientiane. A city tour will take you to Pha That Luang, Ho Pha Keo and Wat Si Saket before winding up at Talat Sao (Morning Market). Day 4: Full-day excursion to Nam Ngum Lake. The package, which includes stays in three- or four-star hotels, costs $430 per person. Note that the price is indicative and subject to change. To book, call their India representative, Outbound Marketing at 011-26236525.
If you care about sustainable tourism and want to travel more meaningfully, pick up the Lao country booklet of the Stay Another Day initiative (available free all over Luang Prabang). The initiative promotes ‘destination-friendly’ tourism by connecting travellers with organisations that are in some way helping to conserve local culture and heritage, or supporting community projects benefiting local people or efforts which try to lessen the negative environmental impact of tourism. Just two of the stalwarts mentioned in the Luang Prabang section are Big Brother Mouse (publishing children’s books which you can buy and donate) and the Elephant Park project (a comfy retirement home for elephants, where you can bathe the residents or just sponsor their food and care for a day). See www.stay-another-day.org