-I’ll be there for you. -Shut up.

Waking up in Vang Vieng is like finding yourself in a clown costume in the middle of a chicken farm. It doesn’t make any sense. Yet its intriguing. And you would want to inquire about it. And you might actually like it.

Vang Vieng is a strange town. It is nestled between limestone cliffs, and it is arguably one of the most beautiful areas in all of Laos. It is home to great rock climbing, a clear meandering river, indigo blue lagoons, and a myriad of mysterious caves. It sounds like a vacation paradise for avid adventurers. Sounds like that.

I guess some time ago, renting an inner tube became a good way for tourists to see the beauty of the town. Then, the locals saw the stream of tourists and starting building bars along the route. Now, tourists can stop for a drink in the middle of their tubing experience. However, more and more bars began popping up, so competition became fierce. The proprietors began building big trapeze swings so that tourists could do daredevil tricks into the river from the bar, or in most cases, from a long ladder above the bar. Of course, they all had to out-do each other and the swings became taller and taller. One bar even built a humongous slide out of kitchen tiles that shoots the slider high into the air before forcing her to land on her back in the river. Hard. The thing is, the river isn’t that deep. And the people aren’t that sober. So, the amount of tourists on crutches or stitches is almost equal to the number of unharmed tourists.

Unfortunately, the people of Vang Vieng must have thought it would be fun to get the bastards even more fucked up before they took to the tubes. Drugs are more readily available in Vang Vieng than in all of Colombia. I can order a yard of mushroom shake for $12. Or maybe I prefer my mushrooms on a pizza. Or perhaps I want a joint instead. Or maybe I want a joint with opium and tobacco after a marijuana shake served in a bucket. It’s all possible. And all ready to be served before or after jumping off a swing 10 meters above a shallow river.

If I hadn’t done spring break some 10 years ago, I might have taken flight after a few puffs of some opium. But I was more inclined to tell the drunkards to be careful. I even told a few that they might poke their eyes out! Unfortunately, I didn’t have to say anything to let my age show. At night, I found myself at a dance party where three different people asked me quizzically how old I was. Jerks.

Thankfully, I met some other geezers on a kayaking tour, and we had a great time. We decided to seek out the few restaurants with tables and chairs, the kind that you sit on and around at dinner to form conversations. Most of the restaurants in town had lounge chairs that faced a large TV and played ‘Friends’ on a loop. This is not a lie. I hate Jennifer Anniston’s voice, yet it followed me around the entire town. Some guys boasted about staying in town so long that they caught up on three different seasons of the sitcom. Barf. I watched one episode to see if maybe there was some magic in the act of lounging at a restaurant with 20 other people. But I didn’t feel it.

Instead I kayaked, climbed rocks, and mountain biked to faraway caves. And I met people. Lots of them. The strangeness of the town bonds tourists. Nothing like bonding while watching an overweight Irish girl twirl a fire baton next to her pet monkey. Or cringing as a dread-locked Australian with a NO FEAR chest tattoo gets wheeled off to the hospital for stitches.

It’s the kind of place that is so strange it makes you want to stay and watch. I heard the ‘Friends’ theme song in my sleep and watched as heavily made-up drunk floozies flirted with men and marijuana. Yet I loved it. I stayed 4 nights. And then I came back a few weeks later. You never know what you will like until you try it, I guess. Maybe I will check out that chicken farm tomorrow in my new clown suit.

New friends, Ian and Sandy.

New friend, an albino cow.

New friends, lots of ’em!

New friend, Mr D.

The view from my balcony (in a room for $10/night).