Luang Prabang Part II: More Like Luang Pra-DANG

If you read Part I about my hop-skip-and-a-jump to get to Luang Prabang, let this post be a testament to how charming Luang Prabang is. Even 36 hours of Bus Stress™, or more aptly called BS, couldn’t detract from how much I enjoyed my final stop on this two-week trip.

THINGS TO DO IN LUANG PRABANG

Luang Prabang is surrounded by the Nam Khan and Mekong Rivers, as well as the views of mountains across the water. Notoriously quaint and relaxing, the city is easily manageable by foot. It's worth circling the old quarter several times just to take in how the mountains shape Luang Prabang's skyline.

At the center of the city sits Mount Phousi, making it the top spot (pun) to watch the sunrise or sunset. I opted for the sunrise, avoiding not only the small fee to climb up, but also the horde of sunset-gazers. The ascent is several hundred steps of stairs, but the way down offers plenty of rest stops in the form of temples and Buddha images.

If you want to cross the river, the bamboo bridges are for the bold, and the "Old Bridge" is for those with a death wish. Wincing with each creak of the wood, I inched my way across just to say that I did. Of course, any pride from my crossing was demolished when two monks brushed past me to stroll the way I had just come, not once breaking step.

As one of the religious hearts of Laos, Luang Prabang is marked by a smattering of temples throughout the city. Wat Xieng Thong seems to be the major wat in the city, and its "tree of life" mosaic makes it stand out for visitors.

Big Brother Mouse is an organization that promotes literacy and English language skills for all ages in Laos. Volunteers are welcome to drop in daily to practice English conversation with young Lao people. Their website sums it up as, “If you can speak English, you can help!”

I turned onto the street where the organization was listed, and before I searched for the address, an old European man standing in the road approached me. "Have you heard of Big Brother Mouse?" I nodded and he ushered me inside to one of three crowded rooms. He asked a group of Lao students, mostly teens, "Does somebody want a one-on-one?" A monk, smiling confidently, stood up and walked over to us. The old man patted him on the back and walked away. I guessed I was just supposed to...start talking? The monk seemed well-seasoned with the small-talk routine, but he let me lead the conversation. Our discussion moved around topics like university, travel, life in Laos, and even music (he listens to some angsty 2000s rock, FYI).

My conversation partner at one point recommended that I participate in the famous morning alms. Each dawn, a single-file line of monks, clad in their characteristic orange robes, stretches throughout the city to receive alms from the Buddhist residents. However, the ritual has become slightly tainted over the years by tourists snapping pictures and disrupting the genuine spirituality of the practice. My conversation buddy explained that while foreigners should refrain from treating the ceremony as a tourist attraction, they can respectfully wait along the streets before sunrise and donate some food or charity into the monks’ bowls.

The influence Buddhism on daily life starts at dawn, and reaches until the city-wide curfew at 11:30pm. Before then, however, the top evening activity is the night market.

In terms of taste, price, and experience, the night market can’t be beat. It's been the most rewarding and least overwhelming of my market experiences in Southeast Asia. There’s a buffet option, where for 15,000 kip (less than two USD), you can load up a bowl as high as physics allows you. I don’t know the names of the different dishes available, but I know I pushed my limits.

Finally, Kuang Si Waterfalls is one of Luang Prabang’s top attractions. A thankfully short bus ride from the city, it exemplifies the natural allure of Laos. Visitors first pass through a bear sanctuary before hiking up the falls. The route is breathtaking, and it still hardly prepares you for the sight of the central falls at the top.

Cascades of water are scattered along the way up, where several pools are open for swimmers. Turquoise waters achieve their natural color as an effect of the limestone rocks. I think jumping off one of these rock and into a tranquil, aquamarine pool is the longest that my fanny pack has been out of my sight in the past four months. Worth it.

At the top of the hike, I spotted a set of stairs that appeared to lead up and behind the main waterfall. No other tourists were near it. Most were turning around, back to swimming opportunities along the path. I took the lack of signs saying “Do not climb!” as an invitation to channel some Robert Frost and venture up alone. As the climb grew steadily steeper, I realized the stairs would take me all the way up to the crest of the waterfall. Rushing water trumped any other sounds. A sent a mental shout-out to Robert Frost for the tip to take this path, as I didn’t pass any other person until I was making my way back down.

Luang Prabang was my personal promised land, a restorative town after the bus ride from hell.

Flying back to Phnom Penh was bittersweet. A longing to keep traveling mixed with relief at being back in a city I’ve grown to know. And that sense of familiarity brings with it a sense of pride, knowing that Phnom Penh has become one of my many homes.