We flew in on Laos Airlines and had a pleasant and uneventful flight. I'd heard it was a dangerous airline so I was frankly a little disappointed that nothing caught on fire even a little bit. The plane made funny noises and the in-flight meal was a little underwhelming - but I was expecting a Wright brothers bi-plane that you had to pedal like a bicycle, I was expecting jet-fuel explosions. If you ask me, that would be the way to go. Fast. Exciting. Nothing left but a few charred bones and a bit of ragged flesh. Let the monsoon rains bury me in Luang Prabang.
This town in the north of Laos is incredibly beautiful - nestled into the mountains that surround the Mekong River, hills speckled with temples and the streets full of monks and Chinese tourists. At four in the morning you can hear bells toll and chantings curl and moan like smoke.
There were some "frequently asked questions" on the back of one restaurant's menu. My favorite was, "Where are all the monks going?"
(The answer was, basically, "Doing people stuff, you stupid falang.")
Of an evening, a night market sprawls on either side and down the middle of the main street for almost a mile, people set up and sell crafts and weavings. I bought a big "fuck off" knife for ten dollars. Down one alley there are food vendors with fresh spring rolls, grilled meat and fish, and dollar-a-plate buffet with noodles and vegetables that I will sorely miss.
The city is vibrant and substantially under-construction.
There is a curfew here, same as Vietnam. Loosely enforced for people, but strongly monitored for businesses. After midnight everything closes down excepting the bowling alley I mentioned last time. They have some arrangement that let's them keep it open until four in the morning.
So we went to the goddamn bowling alley. I kept screaming, "over the line!" when someone's toe would slip, and there was a lot of talk about how Walter wasn't wrong, but that he was undeniably an asshole. Afterwards, we shared a tuk-tuk home with some nice fellow bowlers. I had some strange light in me and set off preaching the word of Christ in a bellowing voice. Just your humblest servant, Reverend Blood, traveling and spreading light with my associate Father Phlegm, and our dear horsekicked cousin, Brother Bile. We also do hip-hop themed christenings. It was really inspiring. Even Alfie thought so. After the ride, the driver looked at me and said, "Fuck you." Insisting we had ripped him off before we had paid him. Bowling by default. What a world. What a world. I don't think he liked my sermon.
(Cat in a hat - if I'd had gloves it could have been kitten in a mitten.)
Luang Prabang is the second most populated city in Laos and it's still pretty damn small. A simple Falang Reverend, for example, couldn't get away with, say, murdering a tuk-tuk driver over a five dollar grift and driving his rig to Cambodia. Still tempting.
We met an English ex-pat that runs a little eco-lodge we're switching to from our hostel. He's an odd duck, but I like his style. Very laid back. Likes to tell stories. He told us about the carpet bombing in Laos. The Ho Chi Minh Trail zagged between Vietnam and Laos when it was active, and we dropped bombs here every 8 minutes for several years. You can visit the caves where the Laos people hid. Half the bombs didn't blow when they hit the ground and to this day there are parts of Laos that you aren't allowed to walk through. Too risky. Too much unexploded ordinance.
To get to our new digs, you have to cross an old bridge with a footpath on either side for pedestrians. It drops a hundred feet down to the Mekong.
People are friendly here, but again, we are constrained to a particular chunk of town. Laos shares a lot with Thailand and our nickname has jumped the border. As we passed a mother and her baby, the mother smiled wide and grabbed her kid's arm, shaking it in a wave to us while saying, "Hello Falang!"
Oh my, the waterfall.
We stopped at a Mung village after visiting the waterfall - we swam, swung, ate fried rice and then went to the single poorest place I've ever been. There were a dozen kids or so, asking for 100 Kip. A little over a penny. We were brought there as though they were an attraction. A stop on the tour.
Apparently, there's a name for it, for poverty tours - poorism. Fuck me.
Brawn had some cookies to offer up, and the kids practically came to blows over them. I didn't take photos and I don't have any commentary.
Tomorrow, Vang Vieng, then keep pushing south. We'll see the rest of Laos, enter Cambodia to see Phnom Penh and Angkor Watt and then head back to Bangkok. By then I'll be seeking a suitable conclusion for the Asia leg of this journey.
Goodnight Laos. I'll keep you with me forever.
Location:Luang Prabang, PDR Laos
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