Day 65: Pak Beng to Luang Prabang
Trip Start
Sep 21, 2006
1
66
228
Trip End
Jun 01, 2007
Luang Prabang,
Lao Peoples Dem Rep
Saturday, November 25, 2006
There's a mist above the brown Mekong. Incredibly the boat is less comfortable than yesterday as we're shifted to another we have to share with cargo. At least cushions are supplied.
We collect extra passengers at a beach lumber yard where elephants are employed, then a later stop is used merely to pick up a freshly caught fish!
Buffalo, grey and pink sunbathe on the beaches. A trio of boatmen sing using plastic bottles for percussion (before hurling them into the water).
After seven bum-numbing hours, the waterside villages appear larger and more permanent, there is more planting on the silted banks. Masts and telegraphs sprout
01 Pak Beng sunrise
. Then, silhouetted by the sinking sun is Wat Si Bun Heuang. Boats dock at the bottom of a long staircase rising to the temple but our eyes are on the mount, Phu Si, site of the wat at the centre of Luang Prabang, our port.On alighting, I weave my way through the already active, night craft market towards the back of Phu Si and a comfortable guesthouse, not in any guide book.
Luang Prabang is not the capital but, set in the fork where the Nam Khan flows into the Mekong, within a range of karst peaks, it is a more popular destination for visitors than busy Vientiane. Dominated by the Buddhist temple on the peak of Phu Si, it is a relaxed, manageable centre, beautiful and not too contorted by its appeal to tourism.
When I settle in, I head to Mr Hong's Coffee Shop & Restaurant for a vegetarian làap, a fragrant stir-fry flavoured with lime juice, mint, garlic and chillies. Mr Hong's pumping out 70s' disco - the soundtrack to TV's Kath & Kim, of all things! Despite a Lonely Planet recommendation, the restaurant is almost deserted; Not that I'm complaining.
Luang Prabang is dimly lit, and the cicadas are audible. For a popular tourist haunt it's remarkably low-key.
On the way back to my hotel, I wander along Th Sisavangvong for the night craft market, then stray into the grounds of Wat Pha Phuthabaht where a Saturday gambling opportunity is underway. Locals line-dance to a singer and tape. A monk wins at bingo. Kip, the local currency, is slapped down for a dice game. And, on a strip of sand, a game of pétanque is underway, a hangover from the years of French domination.
