"What are the children looking for?," I ventured to our hardly-English-speaking guide, as we passed several kids in scuba masks holding large forks. Silence. Repeat. Silence. Find thesaurus, mental shift F7. Rephrase. Answer: "Seafood". Ethically, would it be wise for me to mention that the Mekong is a river? Move on. We are canoeing, from Vang Vieng, on expensive, exclusive canoe trip. Just the two of us, whilst other tourists follow in huge groups (ok, they did pay less than half what we did, but we have a guide all to our selves - more reason to make the most of his knowledge). "How about showing us an emergency roly-poly?" You know, the one where you flip back out of the water still attached to the canoe in the event of capsizing. "I no." know? no? it was NO. Water up the nose, not very pleasant, etc etc... Under intense persuasion, good old Dian, that was his name, did eventually try it. Unfortunately, the result was nostrils full of river and a canoe floating down on its own. We came ashore to see a cave. A pet monkey leapt at me and clung to my leg until deafened by a high-pitched squeal. Then we went down a cave clutching candles, wading at first, then swimming, then slipping on mud. Dian diligently burnt the walls as we moved forwards through the labyrinth. Too many turnings, too little candles, I freaked out. We exited. To round of the day nicely, we capsized completely on our last rapids, loosing 4 bottles of water, one sandal, two paddles: success. Back on land, I got a fever and lots of arm and back pains - was Cristian paddling at all? What were those claims about needing to sit at the back of the canoe? Since, we moved to Luang Prabang, a truly charming little place, to recover for a week.
Completely covered in gold, Vientiane Stupas are amazing.
One of our meditation moments in Vientiane.
Sticky rice spread on the pavement to get dry in Luang Prabang.
Could we rent one of this please? Avis?
Almost anything can be found on the sidewalk this days.