Travelogue: Spring Break 2009 -- Laos

[Peter Green]

April 10, 2009 – Happy New Year, Luang Prabang

Serena is squealing.

It’s a particularly high-pitched thing that only young girls seem capable of (okay, Scud can do it when I hit him just right0.

From the airport, driving across the Nam Khan, it was apparent that things had started early. There were small throngs of cheerful bandits flinging water at the cyclos and tuktuks that passed by.

When we arrived at the Apsara, the Girl didn’t even bother checking in with us, just went straight out to our streetcorner gang of girls, grabbed a plastic bucket, and started in.

And now she’s out there squealing. The shutters to the verandah are open, and we can here the delight out there.

More than two years ago we were last here, and I’d promised I’d bring the family back for Pimai (Songkran in Thai). I bothered Ivan at the Apsara for reservations, knowing that things went quickly, and he did think that I was a little too proactive.

But, he indulged me, and when the books were open, we were in.

The economy to blame, we weren’t as big a crowd as we could’ve been. Still, with Flying Rat and hubby, myself, Serena, Yoonhi, her sister Okhi, and Jason, Sandra and Peter down from Seoul, we had a good representation.

First, this is a great place to stay. Nowhere near the cost of Villa Sante or the 3 Nagas, with large rooms with solid wooden floors.

I like wooden floors.

The kitchen here is excellent, and, being on the Nam Kham side, it’s a quiet place to chill.

But while chilling was high on our list of things to do, it wasn’t everything. After unpacking, we had time to take in the sunset.

Sundown on the Maekhong is an important thing.

En route, we made our reservations for l’Elephant. Dinner is an important facet of being in LP.

And we admired the sausages. You have to love a town that dries their food in public (more on that later).

By braille I worked my way back to Café Mekong Fish. For some reason I was thinking Kit Kat, but thinking is never my strong suite. However, by dint of staring over the banks, I was able to work my way back to what I remembered.

Which was, of course, Café Mekong Fish.

Until you’ve been here, it’s hard to explain. But I find this town very much an opiate. I can spend great lengths of time not doing much of anything, and smiling all the while. Good beer, excellent food, and very, very accommodating people.

Also, while come complain that it’s being overdeveloped, I like how things are progressing, with the town keeping much of its charm while still prospering. Every building I see on Sakarine I can flash back to what it was like 16 years ago, when most of the town was a shell, with people clustered on the ground floors of the old shophouses around fires lit in the front halls.

Now, the walls are brightly painted, the streets are clean, and, while things are much more expensive, I’m in a position where I don’t really mind.

Maybe I should have settled here back in ’97 when I had the opportunity, but the Asian economic crisis saved me from what would probably have been a disillusioning experience.

Where was I? Oh, yes…..sundown.

I like the vantage of this place, with a verandah down close to the high water mark (which is still distressingly high). We can watch the traffic on the river, pirogues of monks being shuttled about and the tourist boats coming home for the evening from Pak Ou. I thought of having a bottle of chardonnay, but this was, after all, our second opportunity for Beer Lao. And Ellen and J hadn’t had this pleasure yet.

Being Asia, of course, you don’t drink without food. We had to order something to eat, in good conscience (and empty stomach).

First was my favourite. A pile of river weed, tribute to the Maekhong from the rivers near here. This is something that you eat when you can find it. Mind you, eat it quickly as J pointed out, the humidity bleeds the crispness away quickly.

Being Laos, we had khao niao, the ubiquitious sticky rice. This was good for sopping up the broth of the panang paa we had. This was an interesting dish, full of softness. Coconut, chili, a backdrop of turmeric, and hunks of fish and potato (man farang). J was trying to figure out the difference of this and a gaeng (curry), but, while there were similarities, there were also so many things that were wildly different in the tastes.

Soft. That describes it best.

We also had stuffed bamboo. This had been trolled through egg batter and deep fried, and made a good oil supplement to keep us honest.

And so, you have a perfect early evening. A blood red sun setting behind the hills west of Luang Prabang, the boats coming home to roost, and, as the sun set, the sounds of the boatmen, their launches tied up for the evening, washing up and settling in.

How can things get better?

Next: Things get better

[Peter Green]

Okay, having worked hard to not keep up, I'm going to have to stop trying to post entries at all for the next week or so.

While I dearly love this town, the internet connection is....well....challenging for uploads. So I'll concentrate on having fun, eating, drinking, and enjoying the New Year here, and worry about posting later.

However, any questions I'll try to answer.

Just don't expect a picture.

[Peter Green]

Tonight, it's the Miss Luang Prabang beauty contest.

We're talking a lot of silk!

[FlyingRat]

Just popping in to say that J and I arrived back in Bangkok safely (it seems it was a good week to be away).

I second what Peter said: things get better. (Including the marvels of Not-Tacoes.)

(Now to fall over for a couple days, until our next trip!)