By Vanessa Fleming, yoga teacher
As I’m taking a walk through the fields, I hear this pre-historic, dinosaur-like sound echoing off of the vast rock formations surrounding me. Upon closer inspection, it was not, in fact, a T-Rex making this noise. It was simply a cow, amongst many cows, out in the pasture. The cow had a very deep “moo,” and every time the sound bounced off the rock walls, she thought another cow was responding. It wasn’t. The other cows were paying her no mind. She was simply having a conversation with herself, in this quiet and wide expanse of nature.
That pretty much sums up my Laos travel experience here in Vang Vieng. Simplicity.
I spend hours a day just staring at the beautiful horizon, stunned and in awe of these magnificent rock formations just right out in front of me.
But it’s not quiet. I stare at this beauty while the beats of Eminem, Dr. Dre, 50 Cent, and other early 2000s rap artists are being blasted from the bar just across the river from me.
From Party Town to Peaceful Laos Travel Retreat
Vang Vieng is notoriously a party town. For the last decade, this place has been infested with Westerners coming here, getting completely pissed while floating down the river in tubes, and creating a lively and outgoing party scene. In recent years, the Lao government has strictly cracked down on this, as too many incidents have occurred.
So the party scene has somewhat subsided, and part of the reason why I’m able to be here is because of hospitality development. I came to an eco-sustainable hotel called Silver Naga, situated right on the river. The hotel came to fruition because Rachel, an Aussie living in Laos for the last 25 years, and her husband, Soomphan, a Lao hotelier, created this resort-like hotel as a place to have a 5-star experience without the loud and crazy party. A few months ago, Rachel recruited two yogis, Michelle and John, to start up their yoga program. Fast forward to now, where I am teaching at Silver Naga, the only place that offers yoga in all of Vang Vieng.
So the climb out of the party reputation is slow, but steady. And it’s pretty damn cool to be on the front line of new development, even if I am only here for the month.
Learning to Embrace the Slowness of Laos Travel
At first, I was really struggling with this place. Between the constant music and how incredibly laid-back (read: lazy) the Lao people are, I was getting a bit stir crazy. There isn’t much to do other than sit by the pool, occasionally go on a hike, go rock climbing, and visit some caves.
This is the first and only place I have ever been in the entire world where I walk into a shop or a restaurant and the workers are sleeping! I’m not talking a cat nap whilst sitting in a chair. I’m talking mats and pillows sprawled out on the floor and the workers full-on taking naps right in the middle of the working day, for everyone to see. And if they’re not napping, they’re disappearing.
My friend and fellow teacher, Vanina, and I were having coffee one day at this adorable little café. When we went to pay and leave, we discovered that the barista just… left. Gone. Goodbye! Didn’t feel like working anymore, so he went home. We were left in the café alone, still needing to pay our bill, and no one was in sight. We called out, walked around, and finally decided to come back later. As we started to walk away, here comes the barista—in his swim trunks and t-shirt. He’d been down the street hanging out with friends! It’s just so funny to me.
Finding Friendship and Community on My Laos Travel Journey
Speaking of Vanina—I’ve made a friend for life. We share the teaching duties at Silver Naga, a room, and most of our time. It’s rare to connect so quickly and deeply with someone, but with her, it just happened.
We’ve also formed a close-knit bond with the other volunteers here. Whether it’s tending to the pony farm, painting fences, covering for someone at the café, brushing and feeding the ponies, or helping the cleaning staff with managing the hotel’s 90 rooms, we’ve built a small community. We eat every meal together, go on excursions, and crash by 9:30 pm. No wild partying—just card games, Catan, and maybe a beer.
The Stillness Beyond the Town: A Quieter Side of Laos Travel
Because of my Silver Naga family, I started to frequent the fields and caves more and more. The loudness from the bars and town development fades away just five minutes out. It’s in the fields where I can sit and listen to cicadas, cows, running water, and just absorb that peaceful energy.
And the dogs. Oh, the dogs. I love them.
There are four dogs at the hotel—Nike (the grandma), Lily (her daughter), Boo Boo (Lily’s son), and ZoZo (an animated Pomeranian, I swear). Nike was my very first friend here. When I arrived, she was there to greet me with her wise eyes and calm presence. They roam freely, guard the hotel, and hang out with us like proper hosts. They’ve become my best friends here.
Every day at 3 PM, about 40 cows make their daily trek back from the pastures. From mamas to babies, they moo, drink, and stroll in their slow, deliberate way. Maybe next week I’ll follow them to see where they live. Seems like something one should do during Laos travel, right?
The Yoga and Thai Massage Rhythm of Laos Travel
Then there’s the yoga and Thai massage. I’m grateful to keep up my massage practice while trying out new ideas in my classes. Since this is a travelers’ town, I often only get one chance to connect with someone on the mat.
That’s why I’ve slowed everything down—step-by-step flows, long-held Yin poses, and no getting off the back for 45 minutes. I want students to explore deeper layers of their body and mind. Not to muscle through, but to settle in. It’s an approach rooted in ease, care, and efficiency. And people have responded positively, which has been so rewarding.
Slowing Down the Right Way: Why Laos Travel Stays With You
So until I leave, I’ll just be here—expanding, growing, meditating, and just… chilling. Laos travel isn’t about rushing through attractions. It’s about listening to cows talk to themselves, befriending dogs at a yoga hotel, and watching baristas disappear mid-shift like it’s totally normal.
It’s about stillness, absurdity, connection, and letting go of expectations.
Isn’t that kind of the whole point?