If you only visit one cluster of jars, make it Site 1, which is the closest to Phonsavan and the largest, with more than three hundred stone vessels scattered across a broad grassy hill. Locals call it Thong Hai Hin. The biggest jar here is the star, a hulking block of sandstone taller than a man and said to weigh several tonnes, and it leans against a shoulder of the hill with a gentle air of fatigue. Around it, jars of all sizes lie in clusters, some standing, some fallen, some split along natural fractures. A few have rounded holes in their sides, perhaps from old damage or shelling.
Down the slope from the main field is a limestone cave with a large opening in its roof. Some think it served as a crematorium where bodies were burnt before the remains went into jars, and the smoke would have escaped through the hole. The cave is cool and echoing, and the story fits neatly with the funeral theory, though it is not proven. During the war, local people sheltered here from air raids, and the bomb craters pocking the hillside are a record of how heavy the bombing was. Many have filled with grass and wildflowers. The clear paths are marked with red and white stones, and the rule is simple: stay on the white side.
The ride from Phonsavan takes only about ten minutes on a flat paved road, through a landscape of rolling grass, small fields and little villages. It is an easy, relaxed journey, ideal for the morning. Traffic is mostly motorbikes, trucks and the odd tourist minibus. Fuel stations are along the main road in town, and Phonsavan has plenty of places to eat, mostly noodle shops and simple cafes.
The best light is early, when mist hangs in the hollows and the stones are dark with dew, or in the hour before sunset, when the sandstone turns amber. Crowds, such as they are, peak late morning. The plateau is cool, so bring a light layer in winter. The jars were added to the UNESCO list in 2019, together with several other sites, and they have earned it, because nowhere else in the world has anything quite like them.