Luang Prabang Neighborhood

My sister and I have spent the last few days exploring Luang Prabang, Laos.

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I keep thinking to myself, “Dorothy, you’re not in Vientiane anymore.” Where is the omnipresent dust? Where are the deafening motorbikes and tuktuks? Where is the hustle and bustle? OK, there’s really not much “hustle and bustle” in Vientiane, but there’s even less here.

Our hotel is located in the Historic Temple Area, near the confluence of the Mekong and Khan rivers. So peaceful.
Here are some shots from our street. At times, it feels like we’re in Europe!
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Last night, we went to a restaurant recommended by several friends (and websites) – Tamarind. As I sipped a ginger and lemon cocktail, and Megan nursed a lime-lemongrass concoction, we listened to the monks chanting at the temple across the road. Here’s a little sample (don’t know why I was so shaky…). That bimbo you see coming out of the temple is a foreigner who had the brilliant idea of wearing her shorts to go watch the monks chant. Geez.

We ordered some appetizers and then … darkness. The electricity went out AGAIN. Seriously, the power has been off more than it’s been on since we got here. The locals just roll with it, so that’s all you can do. The restaurant staff melted the ends of small candles and stuck them directly on the tables and on the top of overturned glasses. We ate our delicious selection of Lao dips with sticky rice and roasted seaweed and chatted with a kind New Zealander who was traveling alone. Eventually, the lights came back on, but the tiny restaurant was packed with a couple large parties and we were having trouble getting the attention of the wait staff. We decided to move on.

Meg and I wandered through the quiet alleys of our neighborhood, perusing the dessert menus at several cafes. Like moths to a flame, we were drawn down a side street to a restaurant draped in twinkly lights with a small Lao band performing traditional music. The only patrons, we received a lot of attention at our outdoor table. The head waiter, in a starched coat two sizes too big, asked if we had already eaten and then encouraged us to come back some time for dinner. We ordered drinks, which were delivered by two more waiters. When Megan asked for another mug to share her tea with me, the confused waiter nodded and said, “cup” and then summoned two other waiters. They rushed over to hear our request and then scurried off to get the cup.

Before too long … the twinkly lights went dark. Yet another power outage!

Despite the lack of customers, the restaurant was soon ablaze in candles, and the band didn’t miss a beat. We enjoyed lingering with the marimba-ish melody wafting on the cool breeze. It would have been very romantic to be there with someone who wasn’t my sister. Walking back to our hotel, we stared up into the inky sky. Without city lights for competition, the stars glittered brightly and the moon lit our path.

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