Travellers pass by on scooters and on foot while Arne watches the street from his usual spot just inside the entrance of what used to be Nam Song Garden Guesthouse.
The 73-year-old Norwegian sits shirtless on a worn wooden chair by the roadside in Vang Vieng’s backpacker quarter near the Nam Song River. His beard is long and grey-blond, and his toenails are painted a dark blue.
Just a little further down the street, his wife is busy building a colorful stone wall along the roadside in the afternoon heat while motorbikes buzz past.
Arne lights another cigarette and greets people as they pass by. The smoke drifts lazily into the warm air as he talks.
“Where are you going?” he asks a man in motorcycle gear.
The man explains that he forgot his sunscreen in a bag he left at one of the lagoons outside town.
Arne quickly starts explaining that sunscreen isn’t really necessary anyway.
“People are so serious in Norway”
Arne came to Laos from Norway around 2003 and has stayed ever since// He has been part of the town for more than two decades.
“I’m not into fancy cars and big houses,” he says with a laugh.
Life in Laos suits him better, he explains.
“Everything is cheap here, and people smile. In Norway people are always so serious.”
Arne shrugs.
“I don’t really fit in back in Norway,” he says with a laugh.
“I’m a clown.”
During the conversation his partner occasionally walks over from further down the street where she is working on the wall. She interrupts the conversation now and then before returning to her work.
Nam Song Garden then and now
Behind him lies Nam Song Garden. A light breeze moves through the trees, rustling the leaves above the garden.
For years, Arne and his wife ran Nam Song Garden Guesthouse, a small garden guesthouse close to the river where travellers could stay among trees and bamboo.
Since the pandemic the place has changed.
Today it mainly functions as a small garden bar where visitors come for a drink and watch the sun set behind the limestone mountains surrounding Vang Vieng.
The garden itself is a curious place.
It is filled with objects Arne has collected over the years – decorations, instruments guests are free to play, and all kinds of odd things spread around the yard. Arne himself describes the place as something like a small 1960s and 70s museum.
Musical instruments are another of his hobbies. Visitors are welcome to try them when they stop by the garden bar – including a 65-year-old piano standing among the tables.
Near the entrance, jars of local honey are displayed in a basket attached to a lion statue for passing tourists.
“I started gluing the basket to the lion statue so people wouldn’t just walk off with it,” he tells me.
Tourists also sometimes come for other small practical things. Arne helps travellers repair bags, shoes and clothes.
Arne has not completely let go of Norway
When asked how he spends his time, Arne chuckles.
“I collect old classic motorbikes,” he says, pointing around the garden where several of them stand between tables, plants and decorations.
At one point, one of his roosters jumps onto a parked motorbike nearby. It flaps its wings, crows loudly and moments later leaves its mark on the seat.
Arne barely reacts.
He also keeps up with life back home through the radio and often listens to P2.
Despite living in Laos for more than two decades, Arne has not completely let go of Norway.
He still has family there. His two children – a son and a daughter – live in Norway, and his daughter has three children of her own. And in June he plans to visit Stavanger to see them and their homes.
Arne remains seated on his wooden chair by the roadside, smoking cigarettes and chatting with people who pass.
It seems like just another ordinary afternoon in Vang Vieng. And if you are looking for him, there is still only one way to find him.
Try the streets of Vang Vieng.
