The flight to Laung Prabang was short and uneventful. We walked past the airport gates, because I had read you could get a tuk-tuk for cheaper than the shuttle-taxis in the airport. No such luck. Tuk-tuk was charging the same price as the taxis, so we shrugged and forked it over. We were staying at Fan Dee, an “ecoresort for the budget crowd” as Lonely Planet put it. It’s a bit outside of Luang Prabang’s main drag, so we got to go on a short scenic drive to get there. “Luang Prabang seems more… primitive,” Aaron observed. He was right; it was a far cry from the bustle of Chiang Mai. It reminded me more of our trip to Pai, passing roadside stands and jungle flora.
Fan Dee was dee-lightful (forgive me). Everything was thatched from bamboo and held together with teak and mahogany. We were staying in our own little bungalow, complete with teak furniture and a serious mosquito net for the bed. It didn’t have AC, but the evenings here are cool and there were two fans. The windows were paneless openings in the side of the bungalow that could be covered with some thatched bamboo attached by rope. We opened them, made sure we were wearing enough mosquito repellent, and unpacked.
When we checked in, the desk (sort of, it’s in an open-air patio area) clerk told us we could get a couple of free chicken skewers if we took their sunset cruise. Aaron thought that might be just what the doctor ordered for our ongoing fatigue, so we last-minuted it and hailed a tuk-tuk to take us to the dock. Once there, we were handed a bunch of painted sticks, which apparently functioned as some sort of rudimentary currency onboard. Our boat was a two-level houseboat-style cruise ship, with a bar on bottom and balcony-seating up top. We chose a couple of lounge chairs right at the front of the second floor, where we could take in all the sunset action.
We set off down the Mekong with some pretty righteous tunes playing on the speaker system. Someone had put together a playlist that included Devendra Banhart, Beirut, and The Shins. Our mojitos weren’t anything to blog home about, but they were free (or 2 red sticks, depending on your perspective), as were some deliciously-marinated chicken skewers. The sunset over the Mekong was as beautiful as you would think it would be, with the misty mountain backdrop and the palm & river foreground– not to mention the swell of some Sigur Ros song providing a soundtrack to the whole experience. Sorry, Mom, but I don’t know if I can go home after that. It was dark by the time we got back, so we got to see the city lights from the river, too. Cute cafes with French-colonial architecture were transformed into romantic tableaus with paper lanterns.
After our cruise, we decided to stroll over to the handicraft night market and perhaps find something else to satiate our hunger. Where there’s a craft market, there are food hawkers nearby. The night market in Luang Prabang was a much more pleasant experience than in Chiang Mai, where we had to contend for space with cars, motorcycles, and hundreds of other people. Firstly, they had blocked off the road, rather than inconceivably leaving it open to traffic. Secondly, there were far fewer people, so we could take our time and not have to jostle. Many of the “crafts” were of questionable origin. There were way too many signs insisting “handmade in Laos” on things that definitely did not look handmade, much less in Laos. My favorite type of stall (there were a few of them) was selling little bags with hand embroidery on them. Two bananas holding hands would be stitched beneath “We are bananas from the tree,” or a turtle looking at some stars with a rabbit would say “Rabbit and turtle have a wonderfull [sic] night.” Aaron’s favorite had some embroidered mosquitos with “Mosquitos carry dangerous diseases.” We stopped at a food stall that was selling a vegetarian buffet, and had a banana-nutella treat at a crepe stand.
Aaron wanted coffee, so we popped into a nearby cafe. The Lao bartender spoke perfect English with an Australian accent, which is always a little uncanny. He poured me a pastis, a commonly-drunk digestif here in Laos. Aaron got a shot of espresso. We both got a good laugh at the bottle opener our barkeep was using, which he informed us was made from a kangaroo scrotum.
Lastly, we decided to grab a drink at Icon Klub, a Hungarian-owned bar known for its cocktails. I didn’t catch the owner’s name, but she was kind and had a gorgeous accent. She also made a mean Pimm’s Cup. Aaron ordered one of her homemade concoctions and it was also excellent. When we informed her it was our first night in Laos, she made us each draw a card from a little wooden box. On mine, it said something about seeing your problems from another angle. I only had one problem, but it would certainly be solved by seeing things from another angle– a horizontal angle, specifically. We caught a tuk-tuk back to Fan Dee and I fell asleep at 9.
And then I discovered that Luang Prabang isn’t such a quiet little city after all. Around 3 in the morning, some monks began chanting over loud speakers. Then, about a dozen roosters joined in the chorus. Finally, a cat in heat, that sounded like it was in the room with us, started in as well. The noise was non-stop. I kept hoping a tomcat would come along and eat the roosters and put this poor cat out of her misery. I don’t know how he could have helped with the monks, but at least the chanting was a monotonous hum; the roosters and cat seemed to have conspired together to make sure they only made noise as soon as I was drifting off.
Depending on your perspective, I either woke up at 3 or 7. I certainly didn’t really sleep between those hours. At least today was going to be a lazy day. Mostly, we meandered the city, engaging in a bit of flâneur. Aaron and I were both a bit cranky, so we decided to get ahead of any nastiness and just split up for a bit and wander. I chose Sakkaline Road, the main shopping thoroughfare of Luang Prabang. It was lined with charming French-influenced cafes and Lao handicraft shops. Little stairway alleys with mopeds parked in them led between the businesses, down to the river road. The atmosphere was European-meets-Indochinese. It was all very quaint and dreamy.
At lunch, we reconvened, a little more awake and a little less sensitive. We met at Khaiphaen, a restaurant named for a Lao riverweed snack. We ordered its namesake, as well as some duck laap, and red curry fish soup. It was one of the best meals we’ve had on the trip, in my opinion. The khaiphaen was crispy and paired well with chili paste and mushroom salad. The duck laap was completely different from Thai laap; it was filled with shallots and green onions and herbs, rather than just meat and spices. But the real star of the show was the red curry fish soup, which was everything red curry should be: hot, sweet, creamy, and just a touch sour. We ate until we were full and then we ate some more.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about our visit to Wat Xieng Thong, Luang Prabang’s most famous and regal temple.
Hanoimoon 