March 4 Don Det: No shoes before noon

I had heard about the islands of Don Det and Don Kon from just a handful of
travellers who I met in Laos, as well as from some friends who had travelled
there. They were described as paradise islands, both for their own beauty
and isolation, as well as for their location in southern Laos, just on the
border with Cambodia. It’s an area known as Si Pan Don (literally Four
Thousand Islands) and it’s a stunning region of thousands of square
kilometers of islands, some populated, but most not.

Don Det is a half-day’s bus ride and then short boat ride from Pakxe, the
nearest city to the north, so you need to devote at least four days for the
trip in order to have enough time to relax and get into the tempo of island
life. Due to a major SNAFU on my part regarding my visa for Cambodia (see
March 2 entry: In which Baila does an idiotic thing and pays through the
teeth for it), I found myself with just that many days to spare in Laos
before a flight to Siem Reap. Deciding it was providence, I headed south.

There’s a feel to Don Det that is relaxing no matter how many guesthouses or
tourists line the river. So far, rooms can be had for as low as $1, which
are in thatched guesthouses that look out over the Mekong; there are no cars
on the island; and I think I saw one motorbike the whole time I was there.
The vehicle of choice is the bicycle and, with all the sandy paths that
criss-cross the small island, bicycles fairly cry out to be ridden.

There are no beaches to speak of; relaxation takes the form of lying in a
hammock all day, reading or smoking dope. Which is another reason Don Det is
getting a name for itself as a relaxing spot. If Vang Vieng is the chill-out
capital of the north, Don Det is certainly its equivalent in the south.

Everyone who wants to can smoke. Anywhere, anytime. Every guesthouse offers
“ Happy Shakes” and “Happy Pizza” and, while the alternative substance of
choice is grass, I hear a few “special” fungi make it onto a Hawaiian once
in a while.

If you absolutely must do something rather than chill, there is a great day
tour you can take ($5/person for a group of 6) that takes you by boat across
to the mainland, then bus to see “the largest waterfalls in SE Asia,” then
by boat again to an area next to Cambodia where you can watch dolphins. In
actuality, you can watch the dolphins’ fins pop up out of the water every
four hours or so. Those who are much keener than I, which includes almost
everybody, who keep their eyes peeled to the still surface of the water, may
see the fins more often; and those with horseshoes in their nether areas may
actually see a dolphin jump. As for me, I was content to frolic in the
shallow water once we had lodged ourselves on a sandbar.

In the evening you can stroll under tropical trees and through bamboo groves
listening to everything from soothing guitar music to louder rock; and those
with a few decks of cards can be seen playing shithead or some other card
game that gets funnier the more stoned you are.

Is this not paradise?

As yet, Si Pan Don remains a relatively off-the-beaten track retreat for
three main reasons: Although the region borders Cambodia, which issues visas
at its borders with Thailand and Vietnam, the overland entry from Laos does
not (as I painfully found out); even if you have a visa to Cambodia, the
overland journey from Don Det is not cut-and-dry as there are still stories
of boats charging exorbitant amounts to take stuck tourists to their
destinations and the road quality is still questionable down to Phnom Penh,
keeping all but the most hardy risk takers away; and, finally, Lao currently
offers a tourist visa at a price of $15 for two weeks, with a one-month visa
costs double that. For a budget backpacker, a cheaper, though shorter, visa
is the option. So that means choosing between a visit around the north, with
highlights such as Luang Prabang, Vang Vieng and Mong Ngoy, or going south
to Si Pan Don. The north has become the destination of choice so far.

That’s not to say that Don Det is without its fair share of tourists. During
high season they come all day looking for accommodation, of which there is,
thankfully plenty. And as you’re getting off the boat with all the other
backpackers, you can feel like you’re back with the hoards that get off the
buses in Bangkok’s Khao Sang Road area, who come from Bangkok to Siem Reap
or who make the slow boat journey to Luang Prabang. Once you’re settled in,
though, it’s just you, the river breeze and the sunset.

Oh, yes, and maybe a happy shake, as well.