On the conjunction where The Mekong and the Nam Kahn rivers meet, the magical city of Luang Prabang thrives. With streets lined with Frangipani and palm trees, bakeries, restaurants, cafes and French tourists this place is more like Paris than Paris. The obvious difference being the orange clad, head shaved monks, which roam the streets. With their gentle smiles and black umbrellas, they wander around like someone with nowhere to go. I imagined Laos to be a wild adventure where no man had trod before and here I am in this sophisticated city, with all the other adventurous tourists. It certainly is hard to get away from the maddening crowd these days. A tuk tuk whisks us away from the bus station and drops us several blocks from our destination. The Lao Wood House. You know
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