About a month ago I was traveling with a Scottish guy and we were leaving Vientiane in Laos, after getting our Thailand Visas in order. We were looking for the cheapest way north to Luang Prabang. I always look for the cheapest route so that means avoiding guesthouses and other 3rd party travel agencies which charge about 30-50% commissions. So we got a Tuk Tuk to the local bus station and organized a bus for half the price of what the tourist town agencies offer. Now, the thing about Laos buses is that they live longer than that wonderful Sex and the City movie. They are run until they breakdown and are maintained when they need maintaining. It takes a new meaning to the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ adage.
So it was smooth sailing until about 11:30 pm…and BAM. Everybody jumped out of their seat and looked around to see what happened. It was either a popped tire or a gunshot. The bus pulled over and we all got out to examine it. The driver was quite puzzled, understandably, because there was no flat tire. He did the routine checkout, I’m assuming he knew what to look for, and found nothing wrong. Was it actually a gunshot? After revving the engine a few times, everything seemed in order so it was back on board. At this point, I was tired and restless. Reading was not an option since no light bulb on any Laos bus has ever been changed and a low Ipod battery limited my entertainment options to the always fun ‘guess whose brand’. So knowing that I would not be able to sleep, it was Valium time. Valium, a must have for any long bus or train journey, especially for someone like me who can barely sleep on a top of the line Serta mattress. 10 mg’s and I was out in 20 min. What happened next is beyond me, but something serious happened. All I know is that, luckily, I woke up to the smell of smoke creeping down the isle of a completely vacated bus, aside from my pill popping Scottish friend. We slowly sat up at the same time, looked around and then back at each other in a very confused and groggy state trying to figure out what was going on. It was a calm confusion, like a dream. “Is the fucking bus on fire?” was my initial response. “Where the hell is everyone?” was his. It’s funny how people will react in such weird situations, as for us, we sat there for a good 20 seconds contemplating if this was even reality, and whether we should get off the bus or not. After careful deliberation, and realizing that we did not actually find our way to the gates of hell, we grabbed our stuff and ran off through the dark smoke to the front of the bus since there was no exit at the back (yes, remarkably high safety standards). Outside, all the other passengers were standing about 30 feet away in fear of the bus actually blowing up. We joined them and looked on in aw like children at a campfire. Kum ba fucking yah. Still not grasping what happened I asked around. “What do you mean, what happened?” said the only other westerner. “Flames just engulfed the sides of the bus high enough to creep in the window, it pulled over and everyone ran off screaming as the bus driver extinguished the blaze. Where the hell were you?”. I thought about what he just said and carefully answered, “oh? (long pause) Huh”. I just didn’t really have much to say about it at the time, it still felt like a dream. I guess we missed all the drama. So after a good 20 min. of standing on the dark side of the highway, in the middle of nowhere waiting for the smoke to clear, I climbed back on the bus and went to sleep. I woke up 5 hours later in exactly the same spot, to people running off the bus once again, but this time it was in excitement at our new deathtrap arriving to take us the rest of the way, and extending our lovely tour from a scheduled 12 hours to an unfortunate 17.5 hours. Looking back on the situation, I still don’t really know what to make of it. I know it was a much bigger deal than I had realized in my lethargic state, but at the same time, I wouldn’t consider it to be that close of a call or a ‘cheating death’ moment. I basically summed it up to ‘that’s travelling’ and was left with just one lingering question. Why the fuck did nobody wake us up?

Oh, and…a few days later, our Lonely Planet informed us that we spent the night like sitting ducks in the middle of bandit country which has a history of armed bus attacks.

And that is my story.

-Grant-

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