Showing posts with label Luang Prabang. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luang Prabang. Show all posts
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Mount Phou Si
Luang Prabang, 7/15/11
Right before we all depart, Chris, Jen, and I climb up 300 ft of stairs to reach Wat Chom Si, a large golden shrine at top of the unfortunately named Mount Phou Si. The mountain is right in the center of Luang Prabang's Old Town, on a peninsula bordered by the Mekong and Nam Khang Rivers. On the way up, we pass Wat Tham Phou Si, a collection of small Buddhist temples and shrines, including one in a dark cave. The stairs to the summit are decorated with ferocious black dragon sculptures and golden Buddha statues.
Wat Chom Si offers stunning 360-views of Luang Prabang and the bordering rivers. In the foreground, we can see the city's French colonial architecture: Small houses with auburn and brown triangular tiled roofs. And beyond we can see the mountains and forest that surround the city along with small golden temples hidden within their shadows.
Right before we all depart, Chris, Jen, and I climb up 300 ft of stairs to reach Wat Chom Si, a large golden shrine at top of the unfortunately named Mount Phou Si. The mountain is right in the center of Luang Prabang's Old Town, on a peninsula bordered by the Mekong and Nam Khang Rivers. On the way up, we pass Wat Tham Phou Si, a collection of small Buddhist temples and shrines, including one in a dark cave. The stairs to the summit are decorated with ferocious black dragon sculptures and golden Buddha statues.
Wat Chom Si offers stunning 360-views of Luang Prabang and the bordering rivers. In the foreground, we can see the city's French colonial architecture: Small houses with auburn and brown triangular tiled roofs. And beyond we can see the mountains and forest that surround the city along with small golden temples hidden within their shadows.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls
Luang Prabang, 7/15/11
Second day, second waterfall. This time Kuang Si Falls, Luang Prabang's largest, over 300 ft. at the summit. After collecting twenty new friends and engaging in some furious negotiation, the Treehouse Seven has chartered its own slowboat to visit the falls.
On the way up the falls, we pass a wildlife reserve housing thirty black bears, which would seem to be more at home in the Adirondacks than Central Laos. The bears roam a large pen where they dance, hug one another, play on tire swings, and recline in hammocks. Funny, that's quite similar to my past month.
The bottom of the falls is an emerald green pool with enough rope swings and cliff jumping points to occupy an entire afternoon. I swing about a half dozen times, each jump getting more and more elaborate. By the end I'm beginning to think I'm Tarzan. During my final jump, however, I get a bit too fancy and the rope ends up returning to whip me across the face. So maybe I should be a tad more humble.
Chris and I climb to the top of the falls, getting progressively faster as our excitement rises with the ascent. We reach the top, 300 feet up, and try to make out our friends down below. We stand behind a rickety wooden gate at the highest point, our toes gracing the edge, cold mist in our faces. Frigid water rushes past our feet, beckoning us below. As it passes beyond the falls' edge, we can hear the water thundering onto the ground below, which is barely visible from such a high altitude.
Jumping down would probably break every bone in one's body. I ponder taking the plunge, but remember I realized a similar sensation two months ago on my last day of work. The fall was unplanned and the push came from behind, with a quick twist of a sharp dagger.
Upon returning from the falls, the Treehouse Seven spends one final night together eating Mekong River Fish and drinking Beer Laos before splitting up the following morning. We say goodbye amidst tears, promising we will reunite in a couple weeks in Cambodia or Bangkok. The farewell is bittersweet, as the memory of our group will live on forever in our dreams and in the snake and vermin-infested treehouse that we called home for those precious three days.
Note: Some photos from Jen and Teresa
Second day, second waterfall. This time Kuang Si Falls, Luang Prabang's largest, over 300 ft. at the summit. After collecting twenty new friends and engaging in some furious negotiation, the Treehouse Seven has chartered its own slowboat to visit the falls.
On the way up the falls, we pass a wildlife reserve housing thirty black bears, which would seem to be more at home in the Adirondacks than Central Laos. The bears roam a large pen where they dance, hug one another, play on tire swings, and recline in hammocks. Funny, that's quite similar to my past month.
The bottom of the falls is an emerald green pool with enough rope swings and cliff jumping points to occupy an entire afternoon. I swing about a half dozen times, each jump getting more and more elaborate. By the end I'm beginning to think I'm Tarzan. During my final jump, however, I get a bit too fancy and the rope ends up returning to whip me across the face. So maybe I should be a tad more humble.
Chris and I climb to the top of the falls, getting progressively faster as our excitement rises with the ascent. We reach the top, 300 feet up, and try to make out our friends down below. We stand behind a rickety wooden gate at the highest point, our toes gracing the edge, cold mist in our faces. Frigid water rushes past our feet, beckoning us below. As it passes beyond the falls' edge, we can hear the water thundering onto the ground below, which is barely visible from such a high altitude.
Jumping down would probably break every bone in one's body. I ponder taking the plunge, but remember I realized a similar sensation two months ago on my last day of work. The fall was unplanned and the push came from behind, with a quick twist of a sharp dagger.
***
Upon returning from the falls, the Treehouse Seven spends one final night together eating Mekong River Fish and drinking Beer Laos before splitting up the following morning. We say goodbye amidst tears, promising we will reunite in a couple weeks in Cambodia or Bangkok. The farewell is bittersweet, as the memory of our group will live on forever in our dreams and in the snake and vermin-infested treehouse that we called home for those precious three days.
Note: Some photos from Jen and Teresa
Addicted
Luang Prabang, 7/15/11 - 7/17/11
I'm completely addicted.
And I crave more and more every day.
Each hour I'm apart, I feel my blood boiling for just one more hit. One more trip into that world of bliss.
It would be an easier habit to break if our whole group wasn't perpetually high, spending the days yearning for one more fix.
We get high in a dark, dirty, cramped alley, filled with Lao locals who speak no English. We're all packed together like sardines under plastic tarps, while rain spatters down.
The supply is cheap, fresh, and completely pure.
I watch as my friends consume each hit with a slow zest, eyes rolling backwards in their heads.
I'm completely addicted.
And I crave more and more every day.
Each hour I'm apart, I feel my blood boiling for just one more hit. One more trip into that world of bliss.
It would be an easier habit to break if our whole group wasn't perpetually high, spending the days yearning for one more fix.
We get high in a dark, dirty, cramped alley, filled with Lao locals who speak no English. We're all packed together like sardines under plastic tarps, while rain spatters down.
The supply is cheap, fresh, and completely pure.
I watch as my friends consume each hit with a slow zest, eyes rolling backwards in their heads.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
I'm on a Boat
Banana chips that look like bacon but taste better?
Check. 42 cans of Beer Laos' in giant Styrofoam coolers? Check. Chicken sandwiches on freshly baked baguettes hinting to Laos' French colonial past? Topped with cucumber, carrots, tomato, onion, and chili aoli? Bought from a smiley local women whose sign reads, "cheap, cheap for you, thank you."?
Check.Playing cards?
Check.
Teddy bear and flower-covered pillows for uncomfortable seats?
Check.
Sunglasses?
Check.
The Magnificent Seven still intact and kicking?
Check.
After the grueling hikes, thrills, and near death snake encounters of the Gibbon Experience, all seven of us (sometimes the "Magnificent Seven" other times the "Treehouse Seven") are practically family. We're gathered together taking a two-day slow boat trip from Huay Xai in Northern Laos to Luang Prabang in the center. The wooden boat has about eighty other passengers, gray comfy seats lifted out of old minivans, and its roof is doubling as storage for motorcycles and bikes. Tourists sit in the auto seats while locals sit on the floor and bow.
After last night's meal, we're quite full. We sat riverside in Huay Xai and consumed a seven-person feast the center of which were two large Laos barbeques (sindaths). The sindaths are large metal barbeques, the bottom of which is a moat filled with broth, the top is thin pyramid-shaped dome with small slits to let in the heat. You put vegetables, egg, herbs, and noodles in the broth and raw meat on the dome. Combine everything together and you have a heady Laotian soup. We also pass around green curry, fried beef strips which taste like jerky, steamed calamari with wasabi dipping sauce, shrimp and garlic toast, fresh limeade, and Beer Laos'.
The boat ride is the perfect way to take in Laos. It's a breezy, lazy tour with stunning views of limestone cliffs, fjords, rice paddies, and fisherman. We pass by many gold panners, bending down right at the Mekong's edge, performing the back breaking sifting work for hours for what amounts to a meager amount of gold flake, netting roughly $100/month grand total. The tour is down the Mekong River, Southeast Asia's version of the Mississippi, which runs through Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia.
The river is home to the world's largest catfish, some stretching up to 20 feet and weighing up to 600lbs, with whiskers the size of forearms. Every April, fisherman gather on this section of the river to try to catch the famed beasts. Sadly, we don't spot any, which is unfortunate since riding a giant catfish to Luang Prabang would be more scenic and eco-friendly than the boat. Plus I would be happy to share my beer with Mr. Whiskers. [images from Google]
Our boat stops for the evening in Pa Bang, a sleepy commuter town. Although dinner takes an hour to arrive, when it does, it is quite worth the wait. I have the Lao national dish of Laap, a salad of minced fish/chicken/pork/beef/duck, with fish sauce, lime juice, mint, coriander, chilis, basil, scallions, and shallots. It's refreshing, spicy, and light, perfect for the humid evening. Especially when spooned onto lettuce leaves and rolled up. Breakfast the next morning is a crisp crepe-like pancake stuffed with bananas and covered in condensed milk. It resembles the surface of the moon, except light yellow and more delicious.
***
Forty-two beers down, the Treehouse Seven arrives in Luang Prabang the following day. The small city is a beautiful UNESCO World Heritage site, positioning right on the Mekong River. We're staying in the old quarter, a small peninsula in the north of town replete with classy guesthouses, riverfront restaurants, outdoor bars, a terrific hill tribe craft market, and dozens of temples on hill tops. The architecture is distinctly French colonial, showing the city's roots. Every morning, dozens of orange silk-clad monks line up at sunrise to accept their alms, or daily food donations from the town locals, as they are not allowed to exchange money. (I try to get up and watch one morning, but quickly fall back asleep).
 |
| With the local street vendors |
Our clothes smell like gibbon droppings which, though a potent aphrodisiac, has become mundane after five days. So they get tossed in the laundry and we make our way over to Utopia, a large river-adjacent bar and restaurant owned by a friendly Aussie. There's a big pavilion with low tables surrounded by pillows, volleyball, board games, hookah pipes, a grotto, and colorful lanterns. We listen to a terrific request-taking guitar player who breezes through Wonderwall, Satisfaction, Summer of '69, and Mary Jane's Last Dance.
We share an appetizer Mekong River Weed (crispy like fried seaweed) with a fiery and smoky maroon-colored water buffalo chili dip. I share Teresa's umami-rich mushroom melt. After the owner and menu keep hailing Utopia's burger as "the best in Laos", I finally cave and owner my first Western food of the trip. The gamble pays off -- it's a big, beefy patty on a soft homemade bun with onion, tomato, lettuce, bacon, and wasabi aoli. Perfectly medium rare, it's a delicious taste of home, while the wasabi still keeps my mind in Asia. The best burger in Laos? Hell, as it's the only one I've tried, I will gladly proclaim it the best one in Southeast Asia.
 |
| Amen. |
The bars in Luang Prabang close at 11pm, which means it's time for late night bowling, oddly staying open well past the curfew. Someone should really tell the two Jens they're supposed to hit the pins, not the sides, as neither of them break double digits in ten frames. I shockingly have a really great game and should really bowl in Laos more often.
***
The next morning, I grab a quick breakfast at the local Scandinavian Bakery: Pineapple shake, strong hilltribe coffee with warm milk (nice touch), and a toasted twisted cheese croissant, layered like lasagna and flaky like Kate Hudson. Chris, Jen, and I rent mountain bikes and spend the afternoon hiking waterfalls and trying not to pass out due to the heat, mud, and rain. When we make it back in the evening, I look like I spent all day in the sauna.
Note: Some photos from Jen and Teresa
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