Rest

I am quite happy to report that Pierrick and I are very busy doing nothing.

After constant motorcycle-buzz of Vietnam and the insistent “you buy from meeeee!” of Cambodia, there was a collective sigh of relief when our tuk tuk driver dropped us off just outside of downtown Luang Prabang and our smiling host led us down a small path in a garden of Eden towards our private riverfront thatched bungalow complete with four-poster bed and a stone bathroom.

In the morning, a gentle knock on the door announces that breakfast is waiting for us on our private balcony and we lounge for hours on the floor cushions with a book before reluctantly heading into town down a winding dirt path that we share with chickens, geese and the occasional kitten. We cross a small stream using a rickety wooden bridge and follow the Nam Kham River until it joins the mighty waters of the Mekong.

In town we find good food (with great service), meandering green lanes carpeted with fragrant frangipani flowers, and are trailed everywhere we go by a friendly chorus of “sabai-dii.”