Thailand - Along the Mekong River

We arrived, finally at the Mekong River. This mother of water runs from the Tibetan Plateau and empties into the South China Sea.
We will follow it for only 120 miles or so - a handrail to take us to our final destination in Thailand, Nong Khai.
Reaching it felt like a small milestone for us. We had seen it once before, ten years ago on a holiday. From the Lao capital Vientiane, we looked out over its smooth, languid waters and wondered if we’d see it again.
This time we are on the other bank and will pass opposite to where we stood many years ago.
Over the next couple of days we let the Mekong dictate where we would go.
Reaching Chiang Khan, a town right on the Mekong, we spent a couple of nights in a nice hotel overlooking the river. After several days ride in a dry dusty heat and some steep hills, we took a couple of days to rest up before continuing. Prolonging our stay in Thailand, a country we were both reluctant to leave.
The river that late afternoon appeared flat and metallic but its outward calm belied a forceful current, as flotsam such as tree branches, and rafts of weed rushed along, carried by a rapid current. Long narrow boats sliced through the water, like a swimming cormorant, low in the water.
We watched the moon turn a deep red, a Blood Moon due to passing through the Earth’ shadow - we later found out to be the result of a Lunar Eclipse. Smoke billowed on the Laos side from lines of fire, spread across the hillsides during controlled burning.
We met Frank and Agnes, a retired Dutch couple who were visiting Thailand for a holiday. A warm and jovial pair, motorcycle tourers and adventurous spirits, they had previously toured SE Asia by motorcycle and have ridden in Europe. This time, they were sticking to a hired moped, tuk-tuks and night bus to transport them between destinations. Frank had been laid up in their room with a nasty case of gout that flared up so Agnes took herself off to explore whilst Frank recuperated. Agnes and Amanda are in touch and she sent us a video compilation of their Thailand trip that Frank had edited together. They had a lovely energy about them, gently spoken and loving their travels. Coincidentally, they visited some of the same places we had, so it was nice way to remember where we had been.

We set off along the road and passed through Chiang Khan, a town with wooden fronted buildings on its ‘walking street’ - a narrow high street, now a mixture of shops, bars, cafes and guesthouses, sleepy by day, coming alive at night.
Depictions of the colourful masks and costumes of Phi Ta Khon, or ‘ghosts with faces’, was all about. This is a tradition that remembers the return of the deceased as spirits in the living plain and who come forth to celebrate the penultimate incarnation of the Lord Buddha. Dressing up as ghosts for this festival is a cultural tradition in the area and Loei province, in a similar way to that of the Mexican Day of the Dead.
Diverting onto a cycle path that shadowed the river, the rivers personality changed as we followed it. Sometimes so narrow, I felt I could have jumped across into Laos, when both banks became intimately close. Then it became wide and expansive, its course splitting into multiple branches, divided by grassy islands and rocky outcrops that created whorls and eddies as the water found its way downward, around obstacles, persevering in its quest to overcome.

The river, empty at first glance, was actually a hive of activity. We passed motorcycles parked in the bushes by the roadside, looking abandoned, no one in sight. This often earmarked that there was someone down in the bush or field, harvesting some crop, or collecting something that the forest or river generously provided.
Groups of people knee deep, or waist high in water worked gathering something, although we knew not what. River snails maybe? Ferrying baskets and sacks from makeshift tented camps on small sandbanks and rocky islands back to the river bank.
We broke our ride at the village of Pak Chom, spending one night in a Homestay before cracking on with day two.
We followed the main road which twisted and turned following the river north and then south as we rounded bends in the river opening up views of its narrowing valley as the river cut a swathe though a range of hills running north into Laos.
We passed by sections where extensive construction was going on to reinforce the banks of the river, shoring up made of large boulders and concrete and noticeable on the Laos side also. Maybe to combat the fluctuating river flow due to climate or the effects of damming? Who knows, but this rivers importance and future has the attention of several nations, for which it is a major resource.
We had planned a wild camp that night and pencilled in a couple of places. Atop of a hill, we’d picked a small rest area, with a shelter and public toilet. It turned out to be a sort of municipal depot for local works and was manned by some live-in workers, who resided in a house next to the works yard. We asked a staff member if it was ok and they said no problem.
Overlooking the river and next to a toilet block, away from the road and peaceful, we felt safe and set up camp under a pavilion shelter. Often, camping is not glamorous but somewhere to sit, cover in case of rain and a flat surface are golden, likewise a toilet.
We awoke next morning to the sound of falling twigs from the tree above our camp spot.
Movement in the treetops revealed an alpha male Macaque, gorging himself on tamarind, disgarding the husks, which made a ‘thwack’ sound as they hit the roof of the shelter. Young monkeys frolicked with each other. Play fighting to work out the dominant from the compliant but they quickly scarpered as the alpha dropped back down from his breakfasting.
Our last day along the river.
It turned out to be our favourite. Quieter, smaller back roads for most of the days riding meant we ambled along less concerned with our rear view mirror.
A village we passed through was celebrating at the annual local temple festival and large gatherings of people sat around eating from large spreads, happy voiced, laughing as kids played about. Loud funky Thai rock music blasted out from a stage in the village temple grounds and folk arrived, many of the older generation dressed in their best to attend.
The countryside around was quiet, and the absence of people was strange as there usually is someone working, doing something, even in the middle of nowhere.
A little father on and peace was interrupted by large trucks collecting sand from a riverside ‘mine’ where sand dug up or dredged was piled up in large ‘pyramids’ of golden silt.
We had seen these operations periodically along our river journey on both sides of the river. We could only surmise that this unrelenting need for sand was fuel for construction. Construction seemed to be occurring in many places - roads, buildings and for possible export. A sand rush rather than a gold one. One wonders how this binge on this natural resource will impact on the ecology of the river, long term - its level, flow, and the knock-on effect to the people who rely on it.
Fields of crops were prevalent in this landscape, to the left and right of the road. Patches of chilli planted in rows were weighed down with green and red chillies. Jackfruit, a large and spiky green fruit clung to trees, corpulent and drooping. We passed acres of brown leaves laid out on wooden racks - tobacco leaves.
Winding along, the country lane fed us through small hamlets adjacent to the river and then along a ‘promenade’ dotted with the occasional golden naga. The naga has an inherent relationship with water - lakes, oceans and rivers and positioned along the river, they stand guard over the Mekong.
Stopping for lunch at a small street restaurant we hid from the sun under the awning. Seated in plastic chairs amongst the locals, our request for something without meat, generated a frown from the sullen cook but we guzzled egg fried rice and vegetables to show our appreciation!
The final section into Nong Khai passed under the 1st Thai-Laos Friendship Bridge, spanning the Mekong and joining two provinces of Thailand and Laos, and one of their international borders.
Built in 1994 and just over 1km long, it supports a two lane road and has a single railway line tucked in between. We crossed it by train back in 2016, on a night train from Bangkok to Vientiane.
This time we hoped to cycle across it although mixed reports of past cyclists related that some were able to and others prevented, so we will see when we cross into Laos, our 7th country on this trip.Read more