Honest Thoughts on Vang Vieng, Laos (Solo Travel Take)

This is the part of the trip nobody warned me about. After four days in Luang Prabang on a visa run that turned into a whole adventure, I took the China-Laos railway south to Vang Vieng. (If you missed how I ended up in Laos in the first place, start with my honest 4-day take on Luang Prabang.) I knew almost nothing about Vang Vieng before I arrived. By the time I left, I had cracked a camera screen, befriended a litter of newborn puppies, and watched the sunset from a rooftop bar I still can't fully explain. Here is my honest take.

Arriving in the Rain with No Plan

The opening scene: arriving in the rain at the China-Laos railway station about ten minutes outside of town and having no idea what to do next. Luckily I befriended some Western tourist men from Ireland. The red hair gave it away. Together we fumbled through the awkwardness of trying to find a ride to our accommodations.

I immediately took the front seat of the taxi van. (My new secret travel hack to guarantee airflow.) The driver told me my hotel was going to be 60,000 kip more expensive than the rest of the van's stops. When we drove into town, I understood why, and I was so grateful I had booked a hotel outside of town, on the other side of the river, with the word "Nature" in the title. More on that in a minute.

Where I Stayed: The Nature Resort and Its Puppies

I booked the Nature Resort off of Agoda for approximately $30 USD a night. It was a row of brand new A-frame bungalows with views of either the river or the mountains. The manager, who I befriended, was named Singh. His first question was whether I minded if he upgraded my bungalow to a nicer one with a mountain view, four newborn baby puppies living underneath it, and a pet turtle next door.

"Yes, Singh. I would like that very much."

This is the kind of thing that makes staying out of town worth it. Quiet, green, mountains on every side, and a mama dog with four puppies under my floorboards. I would check on them every time I came and went.

Before I arrived, the only things I knew about Vang Vieng were the tragic incident last year where young backpackers got methanol poisoning from their hostel and died, that there were balloon rides, caves, blue lagoons, and lots of green nature. From my experience in Luang Prabang, I knew I needed to rent a motorbike right away to get around. Singh set me up with a Honda Scoopy, identical to the one I drive in Koh Tao, and I set off in search of food.

Unlike Luang Prabang, Vang Vieng doesn't have a lot of food options. It was also low season, so many places were closed or out of food. The only real choice was in town.

Town on a Monday Night: The Zombie Apocalypse Vibe

The way I would describe the town of Vang Vieng on that Monday evening was a scene out of a zombie apocalypse movie. Quiet, half-shuttered, strange.

I was excited to finally see the night market and buy some souvenirs from Laos, but this one was even worse than the night market in Luang Prabang. Same stuff. Made in China. And again, I felt sad and privileged when I declined to buy anything.

Then there was the pen incident.

Oddly enough, I didn't have a pen on me and needed one desperately. I saw a convenience store that I figured would definitely sell pens and went in bravely. The techno music was blasting and I had to navigate several cardboard boxes to find the pen section. I grabbed one, went to pay, and asked the guy if I could test it. Nope. It did not work. I left defeated and confused. Luckily, a few blocks over there was a 7-Eleven (hallelujah), and I was able to get my needs met at the old reliable.

Gary's Irish Bar: My Food Lifeline

I still hadn't eaten. Coincidentally, one of the Irish travelers from the train station was at the 7-Eleven stocking up on beers for their hostel. He told me about Gary's Irish Bar down the street, and this became my food lifeline for the rest of my time in Vang Vieng.

Gary's food was absolutely delicious: shepherd's pie, fresh-cut fries, mashed potatoes, burgers, and cheap draft beers. The music was great too, sappy 70s style, and I was all about the vibes. Until 10 p.m., when the music changed dramatically and the crowd suddenly became very young. Like late teens, early 20s young. That is your cue, depending on which side of that line you fall on.

Motorbike Exploration: Blue Lagoons, Caves, and a Cracked Screen

The real reason to be in Vang Vieng is the nature, and the only sane way to reach it is on two wheels. After Luang Prabang taught me to rent a scooter on day one, I didn't waste any time here.

I rode out to Blue Lagoon number 7 and Blue Lagoon number 3. The water is the kind of impossible turquoise that doesn't look real until you are standing next to it.

Then there was the cave closest to town, which was extremely creepy. Long and dark. I was in one of the far corners of the cave, alone, when I slipped, cracked my camera screen, and screamed. No one came to check on me, because no one was around. The cave went really deep into the mountainside.

I met some women later in the trip who told me the power went out while they were exploring that same section. At least they had each other. I would 100% go back to this cave, but only with a torch and a friend. Deeper in, there was a little shrine with offerings, glowing gold in the dark, which somehow made the whole place feel even more otherworldly.

The base area near the lagoon was one of my favorite parts of Vang Vieng. Crystal clear water coming off the waterfall, and a few of those little fish foot spas where the fish nibble the dead skin off your feet. Strange, ticklish, and very worth doing once.

The Rooftop Sunset Nobody Tells You About

If you do one thing in town, watch the sunset from the highest rooftop bar in Vang Vieng. I cannot for the life of me remember the name (something with elephant in it), but you'll find it. The view over the karst mountains and the river at golden hour is the kind of thing that makes you forget about cracked camera screens and broken pens.

This is also where you'll see the famous balloons drift over the valley. I watched them from up there with a glass of wine, the mountains turning gold and then blue, the town and the river spread out below.

I sat up there long enough to watch the whole sky change. As a solo woman in her Gen X years, sitting alone at a rooftop bar above a town full of 20-year-olds, I felt completely at peace. This is what I came for.

A Note on Singh, and the People You Meet

Before I left, Singh and I took a photo together. He upgraded my bungalow, set me up with my scooter, kept an eye on the puppies, and generally made a stranger feel looked after in a town that can feel a little lawless. This is the part of solo travel I keep coming back to: the people. The Irish guys at the railway station. The women in the cave. Singh.

Getting There: The Bridge and the River

One small but important detail: staying on the far side of the river means crossing one of the narrow wooden bridges to get into town. Charming in daylight, a little nerve-wracking on a scooter at first, and completely worth it for the quiet on the other side.

My Honest Recommendations for Vang Vieng

• Stay out of town. Book somewhere on the far side of the river with mountain or river views. It is quieter, greener, and you'll thank yourself after one walk through the center.

• Rent a motorbike. Vang Vieng is spread out and the good stuff (lagoons, caves, viewpoints) is not walkable. A Honda Scoopy and an hour of confidence is all you need.

• Watch the sunset from the highest rooftop bar in town. The one with elephant in the name, somewhere. Worth it.

• Eat at Gary's Irish Bar, according to your age and your time slot. Great food and good music until the crowd flips young around 10 p.m.

• Don't drink anything that isn't bottled or canned. After what happened here last year, this is not me being dramatic. Be careful.

• Explore the caves with a torch and a friend, not alone in the dark like I did. Learn from my cracked screen.

So, Should You Go?

The party scene in Vang Vieng is still here and very real. Tubing, all-night parties, and plenty of young backpackers on the Southeast Asia party route. That is part of the town's DNA, for better and worse.

Would I let my child visit when they were 20 years old? Absolutely not. Would I let my 20-year-old self visit? Probably. And as the woman I am now, I am glad I came, even if I experienced it completely differently than the crowd at Gary's after 10 p.m.

Vang Vieng is strange, beautiful, a little rough around the edges, and unforgettable. Go for the mountains, the lagoons, and the puppies. Stay safe, stay out of town, and always be looking.

Always looking.