From 1964 until 1973 the US conducted a covert bombing campaign - The Secret War - trying to oust the communist Pathet Lao government and prevent the North Vietnamese forces from using the country’s Annamite mountain range as a supply route. Whilst the Vietnam War filled streets and front pages the conflict here went, and has stayed, relatively unknown. US pilots would fly in civilian clothing - the mission was never ‘officially’ sanctioned by the US government - and often ethnic minorities such as the H’Mong were enlisted to battle on the US’s behalf.

It was in 1962 that the Pathet Lao government fled the capital, Vientiane, and retreated to the caves in remote Viengxay’s steep, overgrown limestone cliffs. There they lived, along with over 20 000 citizens, for nine years. People farmed at night to avoid the bombs and the government often had to rely on the varied charities of other communist nations for goods and assistance.

Now, in a bid to improve the lot of one of the poorest areas of the second-poorest Asian nation the Lao National Tourism Authority, with help from organisations like Dutch-run SNV and UNWTO (United Nations World Tourism Organisation), is trying to turn the area into a tourist site.

Though Laos is a popular stop on the backpackers’ trail across Asia, few of those who marvel at Vietnam’s wartime Cu Chi Tunnels will make it here. Only about 40 foreign tourists visit Viengxay’s caves each week.

This is bad for the efforts of a government wishing to raise awareness of the war along with revenue and living standards, but good for those sick of clamouring throngs and overrun guesthouses that can cook banana pancakes better than they can make a single local dish.

This place is what a former generation of backpackers set off to find and only sometimes did: An unspoilt area as replete in historical significance as it is with natural beauty. Viengxay is gorgeous.

Lush green plains dotted with rearing hills and karsts like a landbound version of Vietnam’s Halong Bay and bamboo stilt houses, some with satellite dishes, make up this small and still poor farming community. Roads are basic and cars rare. There are only four guesthouses and one hotel in town, and a handful of restaurants. All only serve local food, though most menus are printed in English as well as Lao. The place is quiet, tranquil without being boring. A four dimensional exercise in ‘unspoilt’.

It’s this peacefulness that seems so odd against the backdrop of recent history. Sitting in the shade and watching as a couple of young boys carry a nest of baby birds down the road, it’s scarcely believable that more ordnance was dropped on this small country than in the whole of World War II. Here? Here?

To understand, you have to visit the only attraction in town - the caves

The cave tour is made up of five of the partially-manmade caves that housed the party’s most senior officials and often their families. Conditions were spartan. Oil lamps, which were put out at night to avoid giving away their position to the enemy, shed light over the bleak walls and furniture was confined to necessities - camp beds, tables, chairs and heavy, now-rusted steel wardrobes, a gift from Russia.

Ceilings were put in place to stem drips from above and each cave had an airtight Safety Chamber, double doors with wheel-spun locks and a hand-cranked air purifier (another gift from Russia) in case of chemical or gas attacks. These never eventuated.

The concrete floored caves, with their few iron-barred windows and moist air, are testimony to the tenacity of the government and the basic wooden houses built outside during the two-year period of ‘negotiation’ (1973 – 1975) show a wary optimism that’s compelling for its faith after so many traumas had been inflicted. Yet it’s Xanglot cave, where 2000 troops were barracked and stage shows performed (there is even a rough orchestra pit), that is awe-inspiring.

The huge, airy space hid just well enough by overhanging rocks and twisted stalactites to make it safe from outside view, held concerts and rallies. People would come from their own smaller caves across the countryside to watch performances that included Vietnamese opera. There are black and white photos of girls in ao dais .

These six caves, impressive as they are, are only a fraction. There are over 500 in the area and apart from housing tens of thousands of people there was a vast hospital cave, complete with ten Cuban doctors (Castro visited once and it takes little imagination to think of the US reaction to that, if they’d known) and numerous smaller ones housing bakeries and laundries.

We have lunch in the garden of the Red Prince’s house. Prince Souphanouvong, president of Laos from 1975 - 1986, was a member of the royal family and one of the founders of the communist Pathet Lao party. Nicknamed the ‘Red Prince’ our guide, Mr Somkhit told us he first became communist after working as a civil engineer in Vietnam.

As our small group ate dried buffalo and sticky rice from small plastic bags the inevitable question, one that Somkhip wasn’t yet wearied by, came up. “So how do you feel about the foreigners now?”

Somkhip, whose family survived the war without casualties and who never lived in the caves considers it for a second, “They know already that not all Americans, not all French, come to make war. It’s mainly the older people with a problem, not the teenagers. Though they still obviously learn about the war in school.”

One thing the tour does not discuss is what the caves were used for after the war. Once the Pathet Lao was in power the caves that had sheltered them became re-education centres for dissenters and anti-communist forces. This is one of the reasons the area was off-limits to foreigners for so long.

Viengxay is not easy to get to. There are currently no flights within the country and even from the stunning Plain of Jars (another heavily-bombed area where mortar casings decorate hotels) it’s a day-long drive. This will change, but it’s best to get to Viengxay before it does.