Luang Prabang

When we first arrived in Luang Prabang we had no intention of staying more than a few days. Of course, that's true of every place I've been so far since I have yet to take the time to research a location before actually going there. The guesthouse we found the first night was clean and reasonably priced. It was dark out and we had no idea where we were in relation to the town center. For all we knew, we were in it. What I knew for sure is that there was an ice cream shop next door!

The next day we rented bikes in an attempt to get our bearings. We discovered the old part of town that, like the old parts of most towns and cities, has been most developed to accommodate tourists. I believe this happens naturally because these are usually the most charming areas in a city. The locals have little choice but to do business where the tourists are most comfortable and likely to hang out.

This part of town with small streets and tiny cobble alleyways reminded me a lot of France. And to my surprise I started to hear and see french everywhere. There were french schools, french signs, and a lot of french people. Eventually I asked someone what the deal was. Apparently the French helped colonize Luang Prabang. The implications were huge. There would be no shortage of crepes, croissants, or baguettes for me as long as I stayed here!

We realized that we had stayed in the wrong part of town, mostly because it wasn't this part, and decided to find a place here close to the river. The search for a guesthouse at a new destination is always interesting. You never really know what you're looking for or what to expect. The best strategy is to walk from place to place and ask to see the rooms to get an idea of what's available and what the price range is. We did just that. After checking out a half dozen or so guesthouses, we stumbled upon one that was confusingly cheap for what and where it was; about $6 per night for the both of us. The Nam Sok guesthouse would be home for the next several days.

We also found a restaurant on the river that I knew right away would be my home away from home, away from home. There were couches, and shade, and a view; basically all the motivation I could ask for to read and write. And that's what I felt like doing. We sat down to grab a bite. Enough time passed that we grabbed another. People came and went. One American guy started a conversation with me. I didn't much feel like conversing but he offered some good information that actually sparked a course of action. Inaction, rather. He told us that a lot of the flowers and lights and decorations around town were all part of a festival that was happening on the 31st. I had obviously noticed all this -- it was part of the town's appeal -- but it had never even occurred me that something special might be going on.

The restaurant seating and view.

It was an easy decision to stay. It had the feel an old familiar European town. The people were friendly. The atmosphere was enchanting. There was plenty to see and do. And the price was certainly right. We spent the next couple days peacefully enjoying the sights and sounds of the town in full preparation for this important celebration. It was the end of the Buddhist lent period. This article describes it well.

The night of the festival, we went on a run around the town. We got to see more than just the neighborhood that we had confined ourselves to, and got some good ol' fashioned exercise in the process. We finished in time to catch the parade. It was a showing of all the bamboo boats and natural art pieces that were about to be let loose on the Mekong river. Everything was lit up with candles. People all around were making sounds with whatever they had available. Collectively, it was music; charming in it's simplicity. A few sky lanterns were being set free, complimenting the stars in the clear night sky. It was magical, and I felt lucky to be sharing it with someone.

One of the Temple courtyards.

The next day was just as great in it's own way. We rented a motorcycle and rode out to the Pak Ou caves in the morning. They were nice, but not that cool. I thought they would be bigger and more exciting. Ah, the curse of expectation. It was enjoyable netheless. We came back into town for lunch before riding out in the opposite direction to the Kuang Si waterfall. Now that was right up my alley! We followed a dirt path through some woods and along a river. It was like an enchanted forest that I saw once -- we'll just call it a dream. It was relaxing to be in the presence of such natural beauty. There were several smaller falls, and pools to swim in. After only fifteen minutes or so, we reached the main waterfall. It was impressive, but I was more interested in following the path. It led us to a bridge that crossed over the river, then turned into a steep jungle trail that had been worn into the mountainside. The hike up, across through the water, and back down the other side was incredible. I can't really describe the feeling I had.

Atop the falls.

Once we were back down, I gave in to the temptation to go swimming and play Tarzan on the rope swing. I felt more like George of the Jungle though, almost hitting the very tree that I swung from. Details.

The next few days were mellow. I spent a lot of time reading and writing. I began to feel that my travel companion not as content with being still. She said nothing of it, but it was clear that she was ready to move on. Not from me, but from here. Hence her silence. Determined to not repeat the mistake I had made with the German girl, I brought it up and told her frankly how I felt and why.

I was certainly going to leave soon, but I didn't know when. I loved every bit of her company. Especially after the first few weeks of my journey, which I had spent alone, observing all the couples that traveled together and imagining the bond that was building between them. I was envious in my fascination of this concept of love. With her, everything we had done, all the time we had spent together was better because she was around. I was getting a taste of what I longed for. What I didn't like, was this new feeling I had that I was keeping her from going where she wanted to go. I also didn't like the accompanying feeling that she was counting on me to be around.

It was an emotional conversation that ultimately ended with an agreement: should we part ways, it would carry no implications. We could meet up again at any point, and no matter what, our friendship would not be compromised. Win, win. She was eager to visit Cambodia anyway, and I had decided that Vietnam would be my next stop. So, we spent the next few days making the most of our time together. The night before last, I walked her to the bus station and just like that, she was gone.