streets of Luang Prabang....mosaic temple......offerings.......drunk from lao lao, up too many stairs at a temple and trying to smile pretty, without laughing....

trying my hand at dancing at a Lao wedding....silk weaving....small village in hills near Luang Nam tha.....processing cotton.....rice fields.....

dog meditating at the temple.....feasting, what i do best.......buddhas feet......one of many sunsets in Tak

market

....mango, papaya, baskets of sticky rice, bottles of oyster sauce, piles of tamrind, banana leaves, blocks of congealed blood, roots of ginger and galanga, jackfruit and durian, buckets of fermented fish, coconuts, miniture eggplant, marigolds for offerings, chicken feet, palm oil, rose apples, limes, gleaming silvery fish, beef kidney, egg noodles, condensed milk for coffee and tea, morning glory, donuts, lemongrass, beetles, steaming soup, old levi's, bustling buyers, motorbikes, tuk tuks, 'Hello hello! You like here....!'

Luang Nam Tha

The little dusty town of Luang Nam Tha; surrounded by dry rice fields, towering mountains. a smokey haze reminding you of the current season of sunshine and the desperation for rainfall. We arrived by van and tuk tuk in the company of a kind German couple. The unexpected journey here was a fortune of the sky and its unwillingness to provide moisture the last four months. The lack of rain has resulted in a dry riverbed and the passage by boat to Luang Prabang was merely impossible. Little did we know that Lunag Nam Tha would bring us rest, a memorable and authentic Lao wedding, and traveling companions turned friends.

On our second day, we rented bicycles, this time with proper gears and tires, and were led by our guide Somlak. Up red dusted roads, into the forested hills, through a Lamet village where we saw bamboo making and beautiful gentle faces of women and children in traditional dress, we found ourselves at a modest waterfall that was half its size due to the season. We continued on west on the main road where a group of young boys challenged us to a race before we turned off down another dirt road, leading us to a village built on stilts; bamboo woven homes standing above ground. Laundry of traditional textiles hang to dry below as children, dogs, chickens and pigs play, women squat over open fires, and men huddle in groups. Here, we came across a "moonshine" distillery right on the side of the road. Women with their babies in tow, hovered over the container of soaked sticky rice that is steamed and turned into lao lao or lao whiskey. We were offered a shot; its warm, sweet flavor satisfied our pallet which pleased the makers. Onward, we stopped to watch another group of women weave beautiful colored silk; such intricate patterns created with such ease and precision.

With the sun beating down on us and stomachs growling, we stopped along the Mekong river and feasted on vegetables and Jeow-a traditional Lao dish that resembles salsa but with local flavors of smoked eggplant and tomatoes, chili, garlic, lemongrass, and lime. Stuffed and sleepy, Somlak politely asked if we would join him at his friends wedding. Knowing that this was an opportunity not to pass up, we agreed and biked to the festivities with no clue what we were getting into-which is what makes it so appealing!

We arrived and were asked to take our hair down as only the bride wears it up. We entered the tent of which hundreds of people congregated and we were handed our first of 8 shots of lao lao. Somlak led us to a table of his friends and a quick glance around, we were the only "felongs" (foreigners) there; all eyes and whispers on us. Immediately, we were offered more lao lao, as the mother of the bride travels from table to table carrying a plastic bottle of the whiskey and a communal shot glass that she refills for the guests. Its hard to decline because one, it tastes good, and two the obvious stare from the other guests forces the liquid down. It didn't take long before we were asked to dance which only put us more in the spotlight! Somlak got up to sing, his voice blaring through the speakers, guiding us for the dance---slowly walking in a circle, hands delicately moving, one step toward your partner than back another passing them like a dosey-doe. Around and around, everyone moved slowly, mostly due to the heat and slight drunkenness.

After getting wasted, Somlak insisted that we ride to the local temple, another few kilometers away and 176 steps up stairs to the top; the three of us drunk and laughing at our state of being and of our unbelievable experience we just had. Somlak timidly asked us if we had a good day and if we would like to go back to the wedding. Yes, we had a fantastic day but were in need of a nap to recover. However, Somlak, the villages, the wedding, and the lao lao will be a story never to forget!

Mr. Noi and Alan Bate, unexpected stay....

The most consistent lesson you learn while traveling is listening to your gut; that little intuitive feeling that tells you where your path shall go. Emily and I recall the moments where we have felt it, where we knew we would be making the right decision to go with it, and to no prevail, we have been delighted by unique and memorable experiences that fuels our hearts. Sitting in a cafe in Pai, we were trying to decide what our next move was going to be. We had been warned that Pai can "get" you; you come for a few days but stay for weeks. We were enjoying our time there with some new English friends and the large amounts of wandering hippie's and ex-pats, but our time together was limited and there was so much we wanted to see! We wanted to make our way to the Thailand-Laos border and take a boat down the Mekong to Luang Prabang, which is the path of most the travelers we met, who buy packages to do it all. There had been rumors that the river was too low (it hadn't rained in 4 months); boats had hit rocks and sunk or simply just got stuck. These rumors and the desire to get off the beaten track convinced us to just buy one bus ride to the border town of Chaing Khong. On the bus we met some amazing people who made the 6 hour ride bearable; one of them being Aman, a Turkish man born and raised in Germany, who was one of very few people left who spoke Amharic. We were the only three on the bus who had no plans but "whatever happens" at the border. As we walked the sleepy streets in the town we met Mr. Noi, a Thai man we started conversation with, originally in search of sticky rice and mango. He informed us that there was something special to see in Chaing Khong, just take a left at the next street....and there we found The Hub, a bicycle museum packed full of bike paraphernalia. The owner, a British man, had collected all the items since he was 13 years old, the year that he knew he was going to race bikes. We sat with him as he told us his story; the feeling he got when we first saw a racer, the people he had met (who knew mick jagger was a cyclist?), buying a 150 year old bike and one made completely out of recycled material....and his new adventure, riding around the world in 99 days to beat the record of 126 days by a man years younger than he! He encouraged us to stay and as we sat mesmerized by his tales, a decision was made to stay and rent bikes to a lake he recommended.
The next day Emily, Aman, and I hopped on gear less bikes and made our way down a dirt road cupped in rice fields and thatched huts. Mountains surrounding us, reminding us of our upcoming journey to Laos, we made our way to a quiet lake, sat and cooled off, and giggle in pure enjoyment of our little intuition showing us the right way......

whiskey made from sticky rice: lao lao "distillery" on the side of the road....happy travelers in Chaing Khong....dinner from the night market.....ingredients for 6 thai dishes I made.....local villagers performing for the flower festival in a small village in the mountains....