My final adventure in Laos was a doozy. I’d heard about the Gibbon Experience all the way back in New Zealand, and made sure that it was on my somewhat small list of must-sees in Southeast Asia. Ziplining over jungle canopies tucked far away from and sign of civilization, sleeping in tree-houses 150 feet off the jungle floor? Count me in.
Getting to the Gibbon Experience, headquartered in Huay Xai, Laos, was an experience in itself. From Luang Prabang, a 2-day slowboat up the Mekong river was required, unless I wanted to brave a 16 hour (at least) bus ride through questionable mountain roads. The boat ride, split up by a night in a remote village somewhere in the middle of nowhere, brought us through rolling hills of dense jungle, the brown waters of the Mekong swirling in all different directions as we gradually moved upstream. We’d pass villages of a dozen shacks, with no other entry points aside from the river itself, miles and miles away from any semblance of a city. Children ran about naked on the beaches, soaking up the sun and waving (and mooning) the boat as we passed. It was a simplistic beauty, and I thoroughly enjoyed it – for about 3 hours. The other 15 hours spent on the boat had me more than relieved to finally reach dry land and get ready for my adventure.
The ride into the jungle, in the back of pickup, lasted almost 3 hours, 1 of which was spent crossing rivers, climbing steep hills, and descending slippery slopes on a backroad that thankfully we completed before the steady rain washed it away. After arriving at the main village, an hour-long hike through hot, sweaty, thick jungles brought the group to the first zipline. Hopping up to go first, I whisked down the line, popping out into pristine jungle, the first bit of cool air I’d felt in a while screaming past my face. I was higher than I anticipated, slightly startled by the tops of tall trees I watched pass by below me. As I arrived at the makeshift platform at the other end, I knew the next couple days were going to be not only thrilling, but a bit mesmerizing as well.
We hiked and zipped, making our way through the jungle to various checkpoints, until we finally reached our last line of the day, one that led straight into our accommodation, 150 feet off the jungle floor. The view zipping in was a bit surreal. Endless jungle to the right, straight ahead a striking house in the middle of a tree. Like a lighthouse on the coast, an unmistakable inconsistency in the setting, yet at the same time, completely natural, almost poetic. The treehouse was basic accommodation by any standards, but the mattress and mosquito net were really all that was needed. The view from the bathroom was just an added bonus. While there were no Gibbon sightings, there was plenty of wildlife waiting for us in the treehouse, as tree-rats and hand-sized spiders were just a little startling each time I got up in the night to relieve my intensifying stomach pains. The jungle awoke us in the wee hours of the morning with what it knows best, a deafening thunder storm, its roars only challenged by the incessant chatter of the hundreds of creatures held within, and hovering above, its canopy. It felt as if I’d turned on one of those dream sound machines, set it to thunderstorm and jungle sounds, then turned it up to max volume.
The following day was filled with more zipping, this time slightly less supervised, as our guide decided we were expert enough to go exploring on our own through the network of lines. Never mind that platforms were missing wood, or that some required precarious maneuvering a hundred feet off the ground. Safety first! The views continued to impress, and the exhilaration with each run never seemed to cease. Popping out over the canopy from the depths of the tree cover had me giving my best Tarzan yells, for all the jungle to hear. Some runs seemed endless, as the longest neared 500 meters in length, where stopping in the middle to soak in the view would require some serious monkey climbing to get to the other side.
Accommodation on the second night came in the form of a 3-story treehouse, the afternoon heat made tolerable only by more ziplining and a cold shower. More than just a room with a view, we were the view, smack dab in the middle of a jungle, doing our best to blend in to the panorama before us. Sure, the comforts were lacking, the bedding wasn’t the cleanest, the bugs never let up, the spiders and rats did spider and rat things, and my insides contorted in ways I never thought possible, but what a rush the whole experience was. Capped off my another morning thunderstorm, the final zips and hike back to town had me filled with both relief it was over and a longing for more.
I’d felt truly a part of the jungle, in all the best and worst ways imaginable.