Crossing the Cambodian and Laotian borders

I’ve been telling a lot about my explorations and adventures in Southeast Asia, but not as much about the actual overland travelling itself. Since I arrived in the south of Vietnam, I had been mainly travelling by bus, and so this was my means of transportation for the two following border crossings. Cambodia as well as Laos were to be entered with a visa on arrival procedure.

Vietnam to Cambodia

This border crossing was so smooth that I barely remember anything about it. I got on a bus in Ho Chi Minh City and when we reached the border, we had to fill out a tiny form, pay $35 cash, wait to get our passport back and that was pretty much all there was to it. No hassle. It was an uneventful ride further into the country, eventually getting us into hectic Phnom Penh.

Cambodian countryside between the Vietnamese border and Phnom Penh

Cambodia to Laos

Kratie, Cambodia, where we took our bus to Laos

The next border crossing was a bit of a different story. My Dutch hostel roommate and I took the bus in Kratie and it was supposed to take us all the way into Laos. Pretty soon though, it became apparent that the airconditioning was not working. It started to be unbearably hot inside and eventually, the driver told us to leave the bus.

A bit later, another one arrived as a replacement and we transferred onto it. It seemed like it would be a smooth journey from there, but we got unlucky again: this bus broke down. There we were, stranded in the middle of nowhere, just watching the sunset and waiting for the bus to get repaired.

Stranded in the middle of nowhere

Sunset

Eventually we could drive on again in the repaired bus, but now we had to deal with the uncertainty of whether the border would still be open this late. This time, we were lucky. There was a little bit of an argument since the driver suggested to take all of our passports, get the job done and bring them back, for a fixed price. Upon that, a couple of French backpackers summoned all the rest of us to not give in to that proposal, since it sounded like a scam.

After going back and forth about it, we ended up all getting out and having the paperwork done at the actual border office. Aside from the normal visa price, we had to pay an extra $2 administration fee. This was again not to the liking of the French couple, who were still arguing at the ticket window once all the rest of us were already in a van, waiting to resume our journey. Since it was rather late, not many of us were in the mood for their mini revolution. I actually think they got away with it though.

We rode on with the van on very bumpy roads, until we reached the pier and with that, the scariest part of our journey. We were faced with the difficult task of getting not only ourselves, but also our heavy luggage onto a very narrow, long and low wooden boat, without having either of those fall into the water. We all somehow succeeded and we started sailing towards the island of Don Det, in the Mekong River.

The moon was shining, the river and the sky were like black veils embracing us and our boat was peacefully sliding across the water. Then, one of the other passengers started playing “Stand By Me” on a little instrument. Along with some others, I started singing, while still looking out over the quiet river under the dark sky: “When the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon, is the only light we’ll see.”