Two Things

This is an important street in Bangkok's Chinatown, or more correctly, and important "Soi" or lane.  There are only a few main roads in this part of town.  The rest of the area is criss-crossed with tiny alleys, lanes and walkways that curve, split, dead-end or double back on each other.  Some are quiet and peaceful only to turn one corner and become a produce market like the Soi in the picture above.

Thus, nothing is easy to find in Bngkok, even with an address and a map.  Nothing that is, except the two things that are always very easy to find in Bangkok.

The two things that anyone can find in Bangkok without any knowledge of the city are Tuk-tuks and dog shit, neither of which are particularly appealing.

When I go back to Bangkok, may it be soon, I intend to have a t-shirt made up that says "Tuk-Tuk?  Mai-Chai!!"  No, I do not want a Tuk-tuk.  The noisy and ubiquitous three-wheeled transports are to be found on almost any corner in Bangkok and most other Thai cities.  While they serve an important purpose, hauling locals and local gods all over the town, the Tuk-tuk drivers love to sit anywhere they think a fa-rang may walk by so they can use any of the many variations of "Tuk-tuk?  Too hot my friend.  Where you go?  Tuk-tuk?" to entice one into a far more expensive ride than a metered taxi.  A good Tuk-tuk driver will try to charge a fa-rang 100 baht to go from one tourist location to another close by.  For the same money and a good tip, I can hail a moving taxi (always hail a moving one, never a parked taxi preying on the tourists) and ride across the city of Bangkok for less than 100 baht.

After a few days I was able to say, in perfectly accented Thai, "Mai-chai, mai-chai" which means "No, no" in answer to the Tuk-tuk touts.  Occasionally they would responds with "Mai-chai korp kum krap" which means  "No thank you" but quite frankly after the fiftieth tuk-tuk all I really meant was a firm "No".

The other given in Bangkok is dog shit.  Poochy land mines are frequent and sneaky.  Walking in Bangkok is interesting enough.  While there are an amazing amount of sights and smells and sounds to distract a walker, you will remain distracted at your peril.  First, you are probably wearing sandals or flip-flops which do not offer the greatest protection from street dangers.  Second, assuming that the street will remain firm under foot is a dangerous thought process.  Sewer grates are often missing, as are the tops to catch basins and other holes in the street.  The result of these missing covers are two or three foot deep gaping holes in the street or sidewalk.  The threat of a broken leg and a foot lacerated by sharpness under the street combined with the probability of serious ick should be enough to keep at least some focus on where one is going.

If the uncertainty of the pavement beneath you is not enough to keep your focus when all about you are gleaming golden wats, the distinct possibility of doggie doo squishing around your flip-flops should have you looking down at least once in awhile between photo ops.  Bangkok mutts are everywhere, despite well advertised campaigns to spay and neuter the poor beasts.  There is food aplenty fallen from market stall cutting boards and dropped by stall patrons.  There is no shortage of alleys, streets and lanes to wander.  Some are strays and some are actually pets, but leash laws are as foreign an idea to the Thais as snowmen.  So the mutts thrive, sleep through the heat in any shade, and crap copiously.

For the most part, the Thais don't scoop the poop, they just don't step in it.  Simple.  Until you combine a six foot wide lane, market stalls, scooter traffic and lots of people.  Many things to negotiate or avoid whilst still looking for the hidden canine fecal mounds.

It all just makes a wonderful challenge.  In Bangkok, the things that one wants to find are usually elusive at best, so that successfully finding one's destination unaided is a triumph to be celebrated.  Navigating directly to a Bangkok destination without the use of Tuk-tuks and without soiling ones feet is even more reason to rejoice.

Rentry

Yes, I have, at least until now, survived the re-entry process although I have not been fond of it.  I have been to work, picked up the Kid from the airport and this weekend is family time.

I have more post about Thailand and Laos, particularly the parting evening of a walking dinner in Bangkok's Chinatown.

Jet lag seems to be non-existent but the head cold from the germ tube of the overseas flight is still very much with me.

For now, here is an image of Chinatown in the Big Mango just as it is starting to wake up in the evening.  More to follow.

Be well!!

Seattle

And here I am.

It feels most strange indeed to be in Seattle.  First off, its cold here.  What the hell?
There was not papaya, jackfruit and dragonfruit for brekkie?  Again, what the hell?

People use toilet paper here.  Ewwwwww!!!!  Where's the sprayer?

I suppose there will be a serious re-entry post in a day or two.  I am sure I will add a few pictures to
previous posts to make them all evocative and all.

And there is sure as hell going to be a post about my last night in Bangkok and the "Walking Eats" tour of
Chinatown.  That was amazing.

Right now I am trying to cope with just being HERE and not THERE.

Be well!!

Inchon

If one is forced to do an eight hour air travel layover, there are far worse places to be stuck than Inchon.

This is a huge airport and the distance between gates can be daunting. On the plus side almost any amenity one is willing to spend for is available.

There are short stay hotels, showers, lots of quiet sleeper lounges with comfy benches and floor height loungers. The food is good and not crazily over-priced and everything is spotless.

So after my nap and my lunch, things are OK.

Last night I checked out of the GH and into the swelter of Bangkok at 10 PM. One just gets used to sweaty. The glorious Metro took me to the transfer point and I popped out of the ground to try to find the Airport Express train. This is the new train that links the airport to downtown with a 15 minute high-speed rail line. Soon it will have airline check-in open before you get on the train.

Everything was brand new. I missed the train by 1 minute but theycome every 15.

From GH door to the train via foot and metro was about 40 minutes.

Breezes through security with my shoes on, crept through Thai passport control and was in the the airport, screened and at the gate, two hours from the guest house door by foot and train. Cost was 177 Baht, about $ 5.50.

Easey-peasey

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Last Day

I'm sitting out the heat of the day with some shade and a pipe.
I earned me rest with an early metro ride to Chatuchak market, on of the largest in the world.
I think you could drop 10 Pike Place Markets (the big tourist and farmers market in Seattle) into the JJ as it's known, and still have lots of extra room.
Puppies to papayas, every cheap souvenir you ever thought of and complete furnishings for am entire house, no problem. Need a baby squirrel? No issue.
Crazy clothes, acres of cheap shoes, bush knives and Red Army clothing, jewelry, beads, bangles.......
And food. Thai people don't shop without food. There is grub from cheap noodle stands to air-con boxes for the red and sweating northern Europeans. (Be cool my big aryan brothers and sisters)
Bought a few prezzies and then treated myself to the metro to Lumphini Park and a beat of greenery amidst the sweltering afternoon.

Second shower done, book and pipe at the ready I will while away the heat and then set out for this evenings finale. My last here (for now) will be spent on a eating tour of Chinatown, walking from stall to stall and grazing on the treats and delectables therein.
At 11 PM I will shoulder my backpack and ride the metro to the skytrain and the skytrain to the airport to start the 30 hour flight/layover for Seattle via Seoul.
Each day has been a treasure. This trip had irrevocably changed the course of my life. I am so glad I did this.
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Bigger Mango

I did the Chao Praya river express to the Royal Palace and Wat Pra Kaeo, the two crowning jewels in Thai culture and Bangkok tourism. One is the ceremonial center for Royal events and the other is the home of the Emerald Buddha (which is Jade and Gold by the way).
OK, despite the sun wilted and debilitated tourists, this is an amazingly beautiful site to see. The murals alone are worth the price of admission which us very steep by Thai standards. I did several hours there between the palace grounds and all of the incredible Wat buildings including, of course, making merit at the Emerald Buddha.

I can only tell you that you should not miss this if you are in Bangkok, go early if you can because it gets beasty hot and meantime look up some pictures online or check back when I add some once I get stateside and unjetlagged. No uploading tech with the little I-touch.
The evening, after sitting out some heat on the shady terrace, was spent riding the beauteous Metro way out North to Vespa Market. It's a sort of punk-scooter crowd sell and buy, full of vintage moto gear, good food, kitsch and junk and no farang. It was so fun!
Metro'd back to town, stopping at Silom to walk the insane Pattaya night scene, smiling and enjoying being only a completely amused and appreciative observer as other folks toddled off for their preferred shock or naughtiness. A lot of straight Europeans couples were heading up Soi 2 to check out the Boys.
I stayed on Pattaya for the mostly direct walk home, twisting through Chinatown to do it.
So this is my last full night of sleeping in Bangkok, even though I don't leave for the airport until midnight tomorrow. And it was a good night, a really good night.
I really don't believe it will be the last.

Big Mango

I finally returned to Bangkok after 11 hours on the "sleeper" train from Nong Khai. While the berth was very cozy and I had the room to myself for the first part of the evening, the track itself was so rough that sleep was almost impossible. I managed three hours and the rest of the time drifted about in my little consciousness
I arrived to find Bangkok shaking off the end of the "cool" season. It was like a sauna at 8 am. Stowed my bag, had a BK train station shower, which no traveler should miss, and headed out into the steaming alleys of Chinatown to find my guesthouse.

I love Chinatown. It is a labyrinth of twisting alleys which no map and certainly no written address can tame. To find anything that is not at major intersection requires luck and patience and often more than a few tries.
On the third lap I stumbled on the little dead end soi that held the GH, but my first choice was full up. Steps away was another friendly little spot that seems cavorts by French travelers. Fine by me, air-con and a bath for 700 baht per night. Since I have to leave for the airport at midnight tomorrow I booked for two nights just to relax and last minute shower.

Life is good but I fear leaving the Big Mango will not be.
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Small things

What a wonder it is to sleep through the night. The antibiotics seem to be kicking in. For a change the characters of my present novel did not invade my dreams in a jumbled mess with my current travel. The past few nights my fever has led Major Pettigrew to be wandering about in Laos while I argue with the dreamscape that the Major is supposed robe in bloody Sussex, not bloody Laos thank-you-very-much.
The Thais love two things, shopping and eating. When it gets too hot for either, they find shady bit and relax. And that has been my day. It's the shady bit right now.

In a few hours I board the night train for the Big Mango.

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Mystics & Antibiotics

It's called Wat Sala Kaeo Ku, or in English, the Sculpture Park. Lonely Planet calls it one if the most enigmatic sights in Thailand.
The park was built by a Laotian mystic named Luang Pu. The story is that as a child, he fell down a hole where he met a mystic who imparted the sacred knowledge to him. He became a charismatic leader and began making his world vision concrete, literally, in a park of giant sculpture.
When the communists took over Laos in 1975, he moved across the river to Nong Khai, Thailand and started over.
The result of his life's work is truly one of the most bizarre things I have ever seen, certainly in a religious context. There are hundreds of sculptures blending Buddhism, Hindu, Islam and more, the tallest being over 25 meters in height.

No description actually prepares one for the strangeness of the place, including Luang Pu's corpse on view in a big plastic bubble complete with flashing Christmas lights.

I bicycled to the park, a feat made possible through the miracle of modern medicine. After another very rough night and fearing the effects of dehydration I broke out the antibiotics about 1 am.
I am still weak as a kitten but things are looking up. Hey, it's all part of the journey.
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Nong Khai

Ah the wonders of solid food. This is my first food in 30 hours except for a few bites of papaya this afternoon. Very tame pad Thai, just right although normally I would send this back for the spices.

Nong Khai is in Isan, the most laid back and sleepy part of Thailand. It is a perfect place to slow down, whether because one is getting in tune with the culture or recovering from dreadful tummy troubles.

And there is type of bird here that makes the exact noise that the roadrunner makes when he sticks out his (her?) tongue at the coyote.

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Sick

SE Asia travelers all say the same thing:  eventually, you are going to get sick

Yesterday was my lost day.

I left Vientiane on the express bus, 20 KM to the Lao-Thai Friendship Bridge.  Through Laos passport control and then back on the bus.

Switch to the left side of the road and then cross one of only two bridges on the Mekong, over a kilometer long.  Through Thai

passport control and back on the bus.  Two hours to go 25 km. 

I found my guesthouse, the E-san, the coolest old teak house you can imagine.  I had been feeling a little punky but figured I just needed to eat.

I took a Tuk-tuk to the train station to book my overnight sleeper to Bangkok.  Good thing, because Thursday is already booked up so I had to settle

for Friday.  Oh well, three days in Isan, the most laid back area of laid back Thailand.

Back at the guesthouse I was definately feeling like crap so I took a nap.  I started feeling feverish but I didn't want to think about it.  I had the hardest time

waking up but I decided to go sit by the Mekong for a smoke and then go find some dinner.  I walked the 100 meters to the river and had a cigar and tried to

read.  I couldn't concentrate and felt all sorts of weird.  I gave up and headed back to the guesthouse.

I was in bed again at 7 PM.  I started havaing semi-dellusional fever dreams and was burning up.  I thought I had malaria and dengue rolled into one.  Actually,

when I was semi-concious, I was scared.

I woke up about midnight and I could feelthat the fever had broken.  There was no doubt.  And the intestinal issues all pointed to food issues. 

This morning I had a little toast at the guesthouse and have been doing little orbits, never straying too far from the wonder of a clean guesthouse toilet.

Upon reflection, the ice at the bus station in Vientiane was probably a real bad plan.  I should have given that some more thought.

So, I am on the mend and in Nong Kai, one of the coolest towns in Thailand.  Today I will be taking it real easy.  Tomorrow I will be renting a bicycle to see some of

the crazy sights including the Sculpture Garden, one of the weirdest sights in Thailand and the lifes work of a man who was a charismatic mystic/religious figure.

Anyway, be well, and if you are having a drink at the bus station in Vientiance, nix on the ice my friends.

Walking

Today was walking day in Vientiane. I started out the morning doing the Travelfish walking tour, heading south-ish along the Mekong past the Presidential Palace and the first of three Wats. The first was just another Wat, the second was interesting because it was the Lao home of the Emerald Buddha.
As the story goes, there was an old stupa at the Forest Wat in Chiang Rai, Thailand. The stupa was struck by lightning and fell open to reveal the Emerald Buddha, 60 some cm tall and carved in jade. I have been to this Wat in Chiang Rai.

The Emerald Buddha was carried off on more than one occasion by warring kingdoms. One of those times brought the Emerald Buddha to the Vientiane Wat where I was today.
The EB eventually ended up at the Royal Wat in Bangkok and I was at this Wat as well when I was on the Big Mango.
The first two Wats of the day were mum Wats, pretty, but mostly lifeless. The third Wat was a local one that gets a lot of use from the locals and was very, very busy. This was great stop not for the architecture, which was cool,but for the vibrant scene going on all over the grounds as well as the temple itself.
The next stop was COPE, the visitors center for an organization dedicated to helping the victims of land mines, cluster bomblets and other unexploded ordinance (UXO). COPE fits Lao People who have been hurt by UXOs with prosthetics and does therapy and physical rehabilitation at its facility here in Vientiane, as well as manufacturing the prosthetic devices themselves from local material and using local labor.
I knew this was going to be a tough part of the day, but it was far more wrenching than i imagined.

During the war in SE Asia, US forces bombed Laos so fiercely it became, and remains, the most bombed country in history no matter what statistical yardstick is used. By US Forces estimates, based on testing, at least 30% of the munitions dropped on Laos did not explode. Since many of the bombs dropped were cluster weapons, there are bomblets, called "bombies" by the locals, there are literally hundreds of thousands of this horrible things scattered over large portions of the countryside. Some bombies were designed to explode on contact and did not. Others were designed to deploy trip wires and become landmines, a function the bastards still serve to this day, almost 40 years later.
Laos is a very poor country. People collect scrap metal to feed their families. Using cheap metal detectors made in, ironically, Vietnam, the people find all sorts of old war debris including lethal UXO.
The many stories and exhibits made the whole sorry history far to real and personal for me. After the tears and realization of how insane and insidious this horror is came a resolution get more involved and make a difference.
The rest of the day was spent tramping Vientiane, with it's huge former colonial boulevards, great socialist monuments and amazing food. Lunch was spent at a busy street stall packed with locals including a bevy of cute Lao PDR Party Members complete with green skirted uniforms and bus driver hats.

Fruit shakes, more walking, this time the Lonely Planet architectural tour including the last French Colonial houses. My dogs were barking when I finally settled in for a killer steamed fish dinner at the Night Market on the Mekong.
Tomorrow is a lazy morning and then a short bus ride to the Friendship Bridge and my crossing back into Thailand.

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Like the locals

                                          Lao Truckers frolicking in the hotspring pool below
                                          my bungalow terrace, middle-of-nowhere Laos......

Sunday I awoke to find my bungalow bathroom door had locked itself. Cool. Explaining this with a few words of Lao was hilarious. Sign language sufficed, the door opened and we all had a good laugh. After a brekkie if sticky rice with coconut milk, pineapple and banana I packed up.
In my best Lao I asked where the bus stop was. Eventually I figured out that anywhere is a bus stop, just wave your arm.

I decided to time the experiment so I lighted a short cigar, noted 8 am on the dial and waited. A mini-van ignored me but before I could finish the crappy little cigar, an Izuzu ute with a Lao family in the back stopped. Sure, sure, Kasi (next big town). In I jump much to the amusement of the inhabitants.

Sitting on bags of this and that, we rolled through the incredible Lao landscape, a rock climbers wet dream.
In Kasi, I gave the driver some Kip for gas (over a $1 per liter here) and went searching for a bus to Vang Vieng, hippy party town. The old Lao man at the cafe spoke French but no English. With Lao I found the bus would leave in 45 minutes so I drank tea and waited. Kasi is a commercial crossroads town, devoid of tourists. I sat and watched the show of daily life.

Not five minutes late, the local showed up and I flagged that puppy down. The always smiling Lao helped me get a seat. My seat mates woke the guy ahead of me so he would raise his seat to allow my long falang legs to fit. And so we bounced along to VV.

I figured I would take a VIP to Vientiane from VV but no. The next bus was a local and the Lao said that was good because it went to downtown Vientiane not the far north station. So I climbed on, the bus mistress stacked my pack on top of the rice sacks in the aisle and off me lumbered.

The bus was almost full when I got on, at least by western standards. How wrong I was. We stopped. We picked up folks. They all had big bags. Not luggage, but huge freaking sacks of produce and rice and who knows. And a chicken. And monks. And more people. Squashed together, sitting tangled in the aisle, leaning on each other, we jostled and bounced down 13, the Lao managed to smile about it all, even through the collective groan that would roll through the bus when we hit a monster bump and everyone left their seats.
Their were moments when I swear that everyone on the bus was weightless and hovering in the air, even the chicken, until we would thump back into our seats, groan, and smile.
I have to say I loved it all. Four hours to vientiane. Five would have been far to much. How these people do this fir 18 hours or more, coming from the north on terrible roads, I do not know.
I popped off the bus in Vientiane, easily found my hotel after a 15 minute walk and so ended this portion of my immersion in Lao local life without benefit of English, guidebook or outside help.
I can't wait to do it again.

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Vientiane Two

Saturday, I was still in the mountains of Laos, near the village of Vieng Kham. After hiking in the foothills until the sun started dipping towards the mountains, I dropped back down the trails to the village. Of course passing through the village meant greeting everyone again.

After some local teenagers used me for English practice, I made it back to the bungalow. There is a large hotsprings pool just below the bungalow on the side of the road. It is about 30 meters square and up to four feet deep. The Lao long haul truckers trying to murder their Chinese, Japanese and Korean trucks on Route 13 stop here for a quick bath. I could sit on the tiny deck and see them scrubbing away right below me. Crazy place.

I decided to make like a local so I donned my bathing suit and went for a soak. The tall pale falang with the many tattoos was quite the icebreaker.

Dinner, of course, was at the same restaurant, like most others in Laos, just a roof with no walls. I watched the fish in the pond below my table and occasionally flicked them some sticky rice.
After dark there is really nothing to do So I retired to the bungalow to read and sleep, finally making use of my silk hostel bag as the bedding looked pretty dodgy. Hardest bed so far and since the Lao love hard beds, that's saying something. Yet sleep was easy.

Be well!!
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Vientiane

I have reappeared, ensconced in a nice hotel with air-con and wifi a block from the Mekong in the Capitol of Laos
I left Luang Prabang in a minivan bound for Kasi, the closest stop to where I really wanted to go. After the Chaos-Lao of waiting, tuk-tuk, then waiting and of course nothing leaves until it is chock full.

                                          The Vomit Van, which never moves until its full.

Having scored a front seat next to the driver, I was feeling blessed, even a little smug. We wiggled through the incredibly mountainous country side on the snake of Rte 13 until there were cries from the back and one if the Euro girls had to stop to be sick.
Once settled, the driver asked me to sit in the
Oddly jump seat so the Euro girl could sit up front as well and hopefully feel better. I spent the rest of the ride there but if I had to have someone squashed against me m, at least she was very cute.
I was listening to tunes and completely enjoying the ride, a feeling not universally shared. When I convinced the incredulous driver that yes, I really did want to stop here, in the middle of nowhere, several people bailed out after me and great vomitting began while the driver got my bag I waved and walked off into the most unbelievable landscape of huge shear limestone peaks,many with vertical faces of a thousand feet or more.

I had stopped outside a tiny village at a place called Bor Nam resort which in SE Asia means any guesthouse that is not on town. And this one damn sure wasn't.
I walked a km each way to make sure it was the right place. It was the only place. There was a Tony hamlet to the North and nothing to the south but mountains.
The place was two crazy restaurants and six bungalows teetering on the hill over a big hot springs where the long haul truckers on route 13 stop for a bath.

Not another falang for miles. The obligatory shower in the insane little $8 bungalow and I was put hiking. Down through the village where a falang on foot caused quite a stir. After "sa-bai di-ing" everyone on the village and all the children twice, I headed up into the hills above the village on local trails, no guides, no maps, just wandering in the Laos hills.

There is more, and I will post it. How amazing the Lao people are, how everything works out, how I seriously mixed with the locals crossing south to Vientiane, but I haven't eaten and the streets call.
Be well.
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Broken

Today Laos showed me beauty, simply prosperity and heart-breaking poverty.
With Khoun driving the ancient army jeep, Jan and I rattled and bounced across the Lao countryside.

Our first stop was the Kwang Si waterfall, arriving early to avoid the tourists. The azure pools glistened in the morning sun as it filtered through the jungle canopy. Fall after fall came into view Aa we climbed up the trail. The place is simply magic.

Next was a prosperous Khmer village along the Mekong. I learned how the houses are but now versus the past, looking at newer concrete houses and traditional teak houses roofed in rattan thatch that were over a hundred years old. The place was wonderful and the people were very gracious and welcoming.

The third stop was a very poor Hmong village. Khoun knew one of the women who lives there. Jan and I had bought Cannes Tuna and noodles and some produce as gifts. When I saw the eyes and ames of the children that crowded around us I cursed myself for a fool for not bringing cases of canned food or dry food instead of the two bags we had. My heart was broken.

Today I just want to sell all my crap and go to work for some NGO somewhere near here and try to make a difference.

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Chaos-Lao

There is Beer-Lao, cheap and easy. There is coffee-Lao, black, thick and wonderful. And when the government or any schedule are involved there is Chaos-Lao. Remember, it will all work out. Find a shady bit, whatever it is will be taking awhile.

                                          Thai Customs Outbound, from the Bug Ferry

I left Chiang Khong, Thailand after getting my exit stamp. Very important. The little "bug ferry" took me across the Mekong to Laos. The visa process was insane and became more so as boatloads, literally, of people showed up. Being one of the first I got to watch the show.

                                          Stupid, rude tour group members on the Bug Boat
                                      
First, your passport, visa form and entry form along with your picture (you brought your picture right?) go in the little window. Push that sucker in and wave it around until some disinterested Lao official takes it. Wait by the window while nothing happens. Half an hour later someone waves your passport and people shout "american" or "French" to help you know I'd you are done. The Lao guys say nothing. $35 later and off you go because you have a boat to catch. Chaos-Lao.
The boat is supposed to leave at 10:30 and proud I am to have so easily negotiated C-L so early. An hour to spare and I have a nice seat. By noon the boat is still moored and people are grumbling. Ah, C-L, the boat leaves when the boat is full. Finally we head down river to cheers from the grumpy.

                                           The boat does not move until the boat is full........

The Mekong is one of the world's last major untamed rivers. It is bridges only twice and dammed not at all. It is wondrous. See it soon before the Chinese dam it and it is ruined.

Five hours later we are in Pak Beng as darkness sets in as well additional C-L. The touts push up against the tiny dock as the 80 or so tired falang get off the boat. Bags are handed out but it is dark and no one can see whose is whose as Lao kids try to grab bags to tote up the hill for tips. And my bag is gone. A tiny Lao village and I have nothing but what's in me pockets precious. Perfect.

Of course it shows up, last, and I shoulder my bag, ignore the touts for meals and guesthouses and climb to the top of the hill. There I find a perfect, huge room with a hot shower for 300 baht, about $10.

Showered (thrice daily in SE Asia) and ready for dinner I here my name called. My crazy friends from the boat are calling me to their table. Hours later, beer-Lao later, and finally cigars and Lao-Lao whiskey later we settle the extraordinary bill of 1000 baht, or $33 for dinner and many many drinks for six. The most convivial evening of my entire trip so far.

                                      Patrick, Mauro, Marco, Joe and Yours Truly in Pak Beng, Laos

The next day was eight hours on the Mekong to Luang Prabang, UNESCO World Heritage site. The river was amazing. Go thee there and see for thineself.

                                            Pak Beng, Laos, through the smoke and river mist

                                             From the bow of the big boat

                                           Two days later, Luang Prabang, Laos.

C-L was mercifully absent and I was met at the dock by Sompang who drove me to the guest house 5 km out of town. Crazy homage rustic bungalows with geckos and mozzie nets.

And now? A quiet cafe on a leafy street with crumbling French era villas and wats everywhere. I feel as if I am in the ending of a Graham Greene novel.

So some days here, walking slowly and watching over my gecko.

                                                          The Gecko in the Lampshade
Be well.
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