Ziplining in Vang Vieng

On the previous day, I had taken the train from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng. What was supposed to be a 50-minute train ride turned into 2.5 hours!

On the train itself, I was seated amidst dozens of Lao men. While I was left in peace, it certainly was not an energy I felt comfortable with.

I had hoped for some landscape gazing, however, since the train drove mainly through countless tunnels, it was rather dark for the major part of the journey.

Once in Vang Vieng, the grey, shabby excuse for a hostel didn’t help to improve my mood.
I sat downstairs and ordered some food.

As soon as I started eating, a girl next to me started smoking.

I went back to the counter and asked where to find the non-smoking area.

The staff didn’t catch that. They were visibly confused. Okay, I thought, let’s try it with Google Translate.

That’s when it should have clicked, but it didn’t. They said something along the lines of, “You can sit anywhere.”

Okay. So I took it step by step. “There is a girl. She is smoking a cigarette. I can’t deal with cigarette smoke. It makes me feel sick. Where can I keep eating my food where there is no one who smokes?”

Then it dawned on them. They typed in their translator app: “Take food to dorm.”

For reference, the hostel looked entirely grey, sad, asphalty, cold, and run-down. The mere appearance depressed me.

But great, sure, let’s eat the food in there… (I hate how being a non-smoker here means being in a minority.)

The next day - today for this post - I went ziplining in the morning.
I was driven there in a tuktuk, through narrow roads void of civilisation. I felt rather creeped out by this.

Luckily, they stopped for a family of five to hop on. With three little kids. Oh dear. Suddenly I was missing being alone on that truck. I mean, the kids were okay, apart from their need to yell everything…

After 30 minutes, we arrived at the ziplining centre. We were strapped in and equipped with a broken helmet and mouldy gloves that have never seen water or detergent in their long lives.

I informed one of the guides that my harness was either too small or way too tight, and if he could loosen it or if there was a bigger one.

He didn’t get it - language barrier. But he would continue not to get it and smile it away sheepishly. Once that happens, Lao people just hope for the situation to go away by itself.
But no, not with my life about to dangle by a rope. I insisted on a properly fitting safety harness.

So, when the guide noticed a bashful smile did nothing to amend the situation, he got angry and ripped the straps off me and left.

So now it was for me to stand there sheepishly. And angrily.

Another guide then strapped me in properly, at least, after a while.

I was quite irritated at that point, struggling to make sense of all these weird interactions.

What a wonderful thing to ponder about while hiking uphill at a fast pace…

I did not see that hike coming, but fair enough, you need to gain ground for the activity!

The ziplining itself was fun, though. I certainly needed that.

We were accompanied by two guides. On the first platform, the guide just… zipped away. Our group looked at each other, thinking… What do we do? Did he expect us to follow him? How? While we pondered our next step, a second tour guide had arrived with two more girls to join us. So he connected us to the zipline and gave a modicum of instructions. And the other guide that had zipped away received us at the other end.
There were about six or so sections - and while it wasn’t all that thrill-seeking an activity for me, being in nature was enjoyable indeed and it was fun enough!

Until the last platform, however. There wasn’t another visible zipline, but a rope dangling straight down.

And that’s where we went as well. Straight down. We were strapped in and whoooop - free fall for a few metres - until we were stopped by one of the guides clinging to the rope to stop the free fall before impact…

And that was an unexpectedly exhilarating part. While I ziplined in quiet, a whoop did escape my lips then.

One of the girls - she always went last - was always screaming like a pig for slaughter. My poor ears. Our guide who received us seemed to be equally annoyed by that, which did make me smile. 😁

At the last section before going straight down, he implored the girl, said there’s really no need to scream, and please not to scream.

Of course she screamed.

And then before going straight down, he took her aside and said, “Please, Ma’am, please no scream. I make bet with colleague. I have to pay him beer when you screaming. 3 beer, 4 beer, 5 beer.”

I thought that was hilarious, considering how desperate he sounded at the prospect of paying up his gambling debts. 😁

End of the story: she didn’t go down with us. There was another zipline we hadn’t previously seen, and she went back with the one guide that way.

That concluded the ziplining.

After this, I was driven back to the hostel and decided to explore the area a bit.Read more