Vientiane is the least hurried capital I know. It sits on a bend of the Mekong with Thailand visible across the water, and its pace is set by monks on their morning rounds, noodle shops that sell out before ten and an evening crowd that drifts to the riverbank for the sunset. There are no great crowds here, just wide avenues, old French villas going soft at the edges, temples tucked between shophouses and a surprisingly good cup of coffee on almost every corner.
Then there is Vang Vieng, a small town in a valley of sheer karst towers, now barely an hour away by the new railway. Its party years are mostly behind it, and what remains is the landscape: caves, lagoons, a slow green river and mornings of mist. These twenty routes cover both, plus a long overnight to the river cave of Kong Lor.
