Kuang Si Falls

Kuang Si Falls, Laos

A 45-minute tuk-tuk ride to Kuang Si Falls wound through the verdant, rolling mountains of the Laotian countryside. Water buffalo, rice paddies dotted with the occasional straw hat, tipped down. Every so often, a town, if you can call it that -- a handful of open air shacks selling basic goods. Over twisty roads and rickety wood bridges, kids in uniforms walked home from school, or rode double on bikes three sizes too big. Moto drivers wearing surgical masks sped by, their jackets turned backward to ward off dust.

The electric aqua waterfall appeared magical. Like if you drank from it, you might live forever.  I could go up or down. I opted for up. Path or hike. I opted for hike, a steep stretch of roots and packed red mud ‘steps’ right alongside the waterfall. At the top of the falls, I waded into the cool water to a wooden fence where you could put your head almost over the edge. As I crossed the lagoon to make my way back down, I saw another sign tucked off to the side: cave and fresh spring, 3 km. So I opted instead for the road less traveled.

No more signs, no one on the path, just me and hundreds of swirling butterflies. No idea if I was going the right way or not. After walking about 25 minutes, a barefoot Lao man and his dog approached, on the other side of a funny little gate, which was locked, and a strange low fence, with barbed wire underneath, no more than a foot off the ground. He indicated I was going the right way by pointing, nodding and gesturing with his head, since we didn’t share a language. The road to the right was what I wanted. Just step over the fence. I wondered if I'd fallen through a crack in time. Alice in WonderLao.

A little while after making the turn, I saw a couple up ahead, which made me feel more secure. I caught up to them just about to enter the cave. They were sitting on a wooden bench, getting water and small bananas from the cave keeper. For 10,000 kip, I got my own mini banana, water and a small, stubby flashlight.

At the entrance, a foot-tall seated gold Buddha, and then lots of little Buddha statues tucked in crannies in the small, low-ceilinged, happily bat-free cave. Thank god for the young Belgian couple, since my flashlight didn’t work. I followed their light in the dark, and hit my head three times before they reminded me that my phone had a light on it. Right. I blame my lapse in brain function on the humidity. 

Cave done, now on to the spring - a surreal, paradisiacal pool surrounded by lush jungle. The spring attendant's two little girls played on a rope swing, near a few picnic tables, and they even sold a few sundries. A big beer for the Belgians, more water for me. After a swim to cool off and de-sweat, I said goodbye and rushed back the same "3 km" (more like 6 km - the sign grossly understated the distance, we'd decided), hustling to meet my tuk-tuk driver to return to Luang Prabang. Since I was leaving for Thailand the next day, I hoped to still catch the sunset in town from the top of Mount Phou Si. I got back just barely in time. After another sprint up a few hundred steps to the temple, I joined the crowd gathered for the photo op. All fell quiet as the the sun sank behind the mountains, an orange glow rippling out across the Mekong. 

Sunset over the Mekong River, Luang Prabang