Muang Sing still holds a unique place in my memory. This is not only for the news I received just prior to arriving, nor the stray people I met in the town. There was something about the locale itself. At the time, it was the furthest I had ever gone and it was the first truly small Asian town I had been exposed to. Surin may have served as a dry introduction, but I felt I was thrown all-in in the mountainous fringes of Muang Sing.
By no means is it the most gorgeous or exciting place in the world. And admittedly, I only explored the town when there was a vast area of hiking and nearby villages to explore. However, it was a tangibly old place, contained still within its dilapidated city walls. There was something about the atmosphere of people simply going about their daily business, acknowledging a traveller but still indifferent to them, near the looming edges of the giant that is China . . . this may well be the closest thing I have yet seen to the frontier.
- The incomplete base of someone’s home.
- Muang Sing’s government office?
- Daytime at Muang Sing’s night market.
- Town road to people’s homes.
- Early morning road in town.
- One of the old-style teak houses .
- Busy morning on the street on the way to the Morning Market
- The single public school – one long building of open-air classrooms.
- Drinking with Chinese tourists who crossed the border for fun. We couldn’t understand each other, but were still a novelty to each other.
- Laotian trucks: a lawnmower engine attached to a trailer which holds cargo and passengers. They move about 5 kph.
- Stray cow feeding in the trash pile.
- Stray dog and chicken.
- Muang sing road on a sunny day.
- Another town street.
- A newer-style, and much mroe expensive home.
- Unloading at the town bus station.
- The Muang Sing police headquarters.
- The Muang Sing Tibal Museum. Closed the entire time I was in town.
- Town road to people’s homes.