Baguettes, Porcelain and Beer Lao in Luang Prabang

---

OK, so Craig and I departed Pai and made our way back to Chiang Mai for another couple of nights of Chiang Mai Inn and roots reggae bar. After another boozy night out, I woke up (after about 2 hours sleep) to a knock at the door too find my brother Cameron had arrived in Chiang Mai. After a brief hug it became obvious that I was still hugely drunk and that Cam had been awake for about 40 hours, so going back to sleep in our respected rooms we stragetised to catch up after we each got a good sleep. We spent 3 or 4 days in Chiang Mai doing rather Chiang Mai like things before we departed on the epic journey to Luang Prabang. Being as Cam hadnt been to Thailand before this may seem a little selfish on my part, but due to Cams relatively limited time in Asia, and my already spending way too much time in Northern Thailand it seemed like the right call. Having discovered the cheapest way to our destination, and knocking another couple of hundred baht off the price, we (including the always good value Arthur and Craig off to live in the trees for a couple of days) braced ourselves for the trip ahead.

To get to Luang Prabang, one needs to take a 8 hour minibus ride via Chiang Rai and the White Temple, to the Thai-Laos border, where you spend the night. A buffet dinner was included but, much to our dismay, was crap (they prepared food for about 15 people and all traces of meat were gone by the 3rd person). We had to pay to use the pool ??? but the rooms were ok. Cam, having drunk a couple of beers that evening, did his best to wake the entire resort up with his stirring rendition of the 1812 overture, using nothing but his snoring! Seriously, people were commenting on it the next morning!

The next day we crossed the muddy puddle that seperates Laos and Thailand, did the visa stuff and found our contact on the Laos side. The plan was (which we already paid for) to get the 2 day slow boat to Luang Prabang, however, by this stage is was pissing down with rain and looking like a very unplesant trip. Our local contact suggested the option of taking the bus which seemed like a good idea. The bus would only take 12 hours and we would arrive a good while before the slow boat. The bus was actually about 300 baht cheaper than the boat and NO REFUNDS was the copy and pasted response from our new mate, the Laos contact (whom we assume make an extra $50 bucks from our collective decisions to get the bus). Ah well, the bus was only mildy uncomfortable and at about 6am we arrived in Luang Prabang.

Luang Prabang is one of the many cities scattered across Indochina which has a recipe consisting of tradition, temples and pagodas, french architecture and an increasing reliance on western beer money. It does have being UNESCO world heritage city listing in its favour, but I found little of interest in the town. We arrived during the daily ALMS ceremony at about 6:30 am (people donating food to the monks) which was of mild interest but I was far more interested in the collective rudeness of some people. You know the type of tourist whose holiday is defined by the photos they take? If they have less than 300 a day then their friends back home will crucify them? There were several of these types getting in the path of the monks taking photos of them, probably asking them to pose for their shot. I love photos, but seriously show some respect to the culture and religion. They are not circus animals, they are highly respected locally and the mildest sense of this should be acknowledged by guests to the town (tangent: I'm aware that I used the term crucify, so as Sideshow Bob famously said "I'm aware of the irony of appearning on TV in order to decry it, so don't bother poiting that out).

Exploring the town a little later that day (Alterior motive: looking for the gorgeous sweedish girl we got the bus with) Arthur and I stopped at one of the side of the street baguette stalls and got some lunch. Now, the food tasted ok at the time, and Arthur gave his a pass mark (Sidenote: Arthur is French and works for a 2 star Michelin restaurant in London, so he knows a good baguette) but im convinced that the baguette is to blame for the next several days (soon to be revisited). I ran into dreadlocked Steph from Chiang Mai who as it turns out was having ATM issues. Her pissy little Aussie bank card wasnt linked to Cirrus or Visa etc so she couldnt withdraw any money, nor did she have any remaining cash reserves! Every single travellers nightmare! I arranged for her to transfer some AUD to my account and I gave her the equilivant in USD. Such a simple solution, but the alternative was using the western union and it would take 4 days for the cash to arrive... lets just say it was lucky I arrived. I was walking back to our guesthouse and, being unable shake off Steph, she followed me back, where Arthur was sitting having a smoke on the terrace. Arthur and Steph, having shared bodily fluids a few nights previously, hoping never to see each other again, made for a fucking hilarious situation "Oh fuck.... Hiiiii" lol. Now, getting back to the baguette, my stomach was beginning to feel a little odd but nothing a few beers wouldnt fix. After consuming my first beer Lao I noticed that it wasnt digesting and much like filling up a bottle of water there was an unusual feeling of liquid under my ribs. After sinking the 2nd beer Lao the water level felt a good deal higher up my sternum. Determined to visit the regularly recommended Utopia bar, we walked the 800 or so meters. About 100 meters away from our destination I had the biggest spew of my life, a spew that shoots forward about 2 meters. Deciding the prudent course of action would be to return home, I set in motion probably the sickest night of my life. No need for gory details, but I woke up around 10 times running for the shared bathroom where any and all of my bodily exit points were kept super busy. I spent the next 4 days unable to eat or drink practically anything except water, much to Cam and Arthur's dismay as they had to entertain the ever present Steph (Little side note: dreadlocks smell fucking foul if not properly washed. Sorry Steph but something in there was disagreeing with me). I made an effort to see the rest of Luang Prabang, but there really isnt anything there work getting out of bed for, so I productively spent my time lying in bed feeling sorry for myself and trying to get healthy.

Anyone who has been following my blogs may have noticed that I adored every place that I have actually blogged about so far. Well the trend stops here. Don't bother with Luang Prabang. If you simply have to go, 1 day will probably do before you move onto Vang Vieng or Luang Namtha etc. We decided Vang Vieng was in order, and my now feeling much better (and weighing approx 10 kgs less) it was time for Tubing down the Mekong! Buckets await!

---