The following day we headed to the Pak Ou caves, some 25km away. The caves could be accessed by renting a motorbike and then getting a small boat over the Mekong river, or getting a boat and cruising up the Mekong. Having done plenty of motorbike adventures, we headed off to the public boat house to see what rate we could negotiate.
We found a keen guy, who would only leave after 11am for a reduced fee, as the river inspectors wouldn’t notice him slipping up the river and therefore he wouldn’t pay the surcharge for taking us. It was an interesting long boat run on benzene, with the driver perched behind a go-cart steering wheel at the front. The journey was a slow struggle against the powerful Mekong, the boat darting between eddies to make the 2 hour upriver journey. It was nice to enjoy the river, kaist mountain scenery and read a good book. It was also an interesting glimpse of life on the river .
The small limestone caves held hundreds of Buddha statues, sitting atop all the exposed ledges – a pretty beautiful sight with the gold leaf and orange scarfs. The caves were located across the river from a touristy village, with small boats transporting groups across the Mekong. Although the caves were small themselves, it was nice to combined them with a trip on the Mekong.
Following a 50 cent lunch, we headed full speed down the centre of the Mekong in our long boat; the current taking 45 min off the upstream trip.

The rest of the afternoon was spent cruising around the old town, having ice coffees, and visiting some very unique paper craft shops.

The following morning, we awoke at 5.45am to witness the Buddhist monks receiving alms – an age old tradition where the monks receive their daily food offers from the local residents. We had mixed feelings about witnessing the ceremony, as rampant group tourism in Lao had converted the deeply religious ceremony to a garish tourist side show. Despite many warnings around town we found large groups of Asian tourists taking intrusive picture, following the monks in TukTuk’s and resort electric carts and generally disturbing the tranquility of a peaceful daily event. I had taken a few photos from a distance but soon put my camera away – disgusted at the bastardisation of this symbolic event. Similarly, westerners joined in the offering, buying low grade rice and cakes advertised as ‘pre made alms packages’ from persistent hawkers on the side lines for highly inflated tourist prices.

Disenchanted by tourism and its clash with a very traditional way of life, we headed off back to bed before our 7:30 bus to Sainyabuli.