102 km

While Dave rode around the island yesterday, he found where the real ferry dock is: only 3 km south of the area where the guest houses are. Last night we asked a local how much the ferry cost, and he said 5,000 Kip (about 60 cents). So we were each ready with a 5,000 bill when we got on the ferry, which had a wood platform on top of three canoe-type boats with a motor on the back. It was big enough for a couple of scooters, our two bikes, and four people plus the boatman. When we got off, we handed the boatman our Kip and he smiled and said thank you in Lao (korp jai). Easy enough, with no special tourist price!

As we turned back onto the highway, we noted the sign for the turn-off so you can have your choice of boats if you’re heading to Don Khong too: it is not signed for Don Khong, but instead says, “Ban Hart, Ban Khinak” and you’ll want to follow the paved road straight toward Ban Khinak. It might make most sense using the ferry on the way to the island if you’re heading north, and use the longtails back to mainland, because riding to the ferry and back to the turn-off for the longtails was an extra 9 km this morning.

We had heard about the Kingfisher Eco-lodge from Damian and Judy back in Krabi, Thailand. We had dinner with them one night and got all kinds of great information about our ride in Laos, and we were looking forward to a “very romantic” rest day at the Kingfisher. Dave made reservations for two nights through their website a few days ago. From our guest house on Don Khong, it was 91 km to the turn-off to Kingfisher Lodge. There is a sign at the turn-off to the right, which directed us up a smooth gravel road. It was a very hot day, and as we slowed down climbing a bit uphill, we remembered their words telling us it was worth it. And it was. The place is just past a small village and is on the edge of a lush green wetland. The grounds are beautifully landscaped with palms, banana trees, and other greenery to offer shade.

Unfortunately, they did not have our reservation, and they were booked tomorrow night. We decided to go ahead with one night. We stayed in an “eco-room” for U.S. $16/night, which was like a duplex bungalow with separate shared bathroom. All bungalows plus the main restaurant/reception building look out over the wetland, which often has water buffalo roaming through, and in the evenings the locals let the elephants loose to eat and sleep out there.

Speaking of elephants: we rode one. The lodge said it’s a good way for the village people to make money with the elephants instead of using them for logging. At 3:30 we walked back to the village where the rides begin, climbed a platform and sat on a cushioned seat on top of one very large elephant. The elephant driver sat in front of us on the elephant’s neck and used his feet to tap her ears and grunted commands to make her go. Then we walked through the village and followed a gravel road up a very steep hill. But! Three-quarters of the way up that hill we met two elephants with people coming down. It was late in the day, and I think our elephant was hot and tired and wanted to go back with her friends. After the two elephants passed us, she turned right around and started following them.

Other elephant riders.

Our elephant driver would have none of that. He knocked her on the head with the wood end of his little rope stick and yelled a command. That didn’t work. Meanwhile, elephant sort of ran downhill, with us bobbing around on her back.

The driver turned around and traded his little rope-stick for a metal hook. It looked like a meat hook. He took it and jabbed it into her forehead and yelled again, trying to turn her head to the side. This time she raised her head and trunk and trumpeted, again and again. Turning her head each time he jabbed her with the hook, she would then turn back, trumpet, and run forward. I wanted OFF. The driver kept looking back at us with a smile saying “It OK, it OK. Want go back.” and then hooking her again. I said, “It’s OK to go back, it’s OK to go back!”

The other elephant drivers finally stopped their elephants and one of them was shouting in Lao at our driver. Was he yelling at him for hooking the elephant? Or was he yelling about what to do? We’ll never know. When the other elephants stopped, so did ours. After a minute the others went on, and our driver kept our elephant at a stop. But when he tried turning her back around she got mad again and trumpeted a couple more times before finally turning around and going up the rest of the hill.

When we got to the top there was another platform with stairs. The elephant went right up to the platform and we got off. My legs were shaking while walking down the stairs. The driver pointed up to where a ruin was, and we walked up to take a look.

I did not want to get back on that elephant, but the driver was waiting when we got back and the elephant looked calm. Dave said maybe I’d feel better if I pet the elephant, so I did. I’m not sure how much better I felt, but I was glad to see that the elephant stayed calm as we got back on, and made good time getting back to the village.

Back at the village, we got off and immediately were met by a girl who had bananas to sell for the elephant. I bought a big bunch, and started peeling one for her. They said no, and motioned to give the elephant the whole bunch. She took the whole thing with her trunk and stuffed it in her mouth, chomped a bit and then spit some back out her trunk all over her body.

I’m done riding elephants. I don’t want to be the reason some poor animal is forced up a hill in the heat or hooked in the head for wanting to go home. I just felt bad about the whole thing. I don’t propose any better solution for the retired logging elephants, but I sure hope the tourist business of riding elephants isn’t causing them to go out and get more of them from the wild. I wish I could see them roaming out in the wetland instead.