Nong Khiaw, a sleepy little village along the Nam Ou River, caught us in it’s net for several days.  Relaxing on the veranda of our thatched hut, watching the sun play on Phu Nang Nawn (Sleeping Princess) Mountain beyond the river, we feasted our eyes as hundreds of colorful butterflies created a living kaleidoscope against the brilliant flowers. Most people rushed up river to pack together in Muang Ngoi Neua, missing this low key place to hang out for a few days.  To our delight we discovered some of the best Indian food thus far at the end of our lane.  From Madurai, South India, Raj was the cook, ‘maitre d’, waiter, and great all around chap.  We give him a 4 star rating and later searched out the other Nazim restaurants throughout the country.  We persevered in arranging a boat down the river and had a memorable 7 hour ride south to Luang Prabang, past remote villages, fishermen, Pak Ou Cave Grotto, and impressive limestone peaks.  We even saw a tree full of a dozen or so shiny, wet boys waiting their turn to ‘dip their skinnies’ in the 20 ft plunge. 

After the remoteness of the mountains and jungles of Northern Laos, Luang Prabang was an unexpected treat.  Influenced by the French and now the steady stream of tourists, few strange culinary items were evident, instead baguette stands and bakeries lined the streets.  The daily Hmong Night Market offered a choice of 3 different tasty vegetarian buffets – 50 cents a plate.  Like the interesting and unique British couple we hung out with, (our own ‘Genie’ and Tanya  who had just finished 1.5 years traveling in India), at first we were overwhelmed by the sheer volume of tourists.  Initially we had each secretly wished to be back in China or India respectively, places you could easily get lost in the scrum of humanity.  Anonymity, amid curious smiles.  Used to saying a rousing “Hello” scores of times each day, we were stunned as foreigners looked blankly at us following our cheerful greeting.  Then it became a game to see if we could change the stressed, sometimes sour faces into a smile.  If not, who cares?  If you greet someone with a smile and they scowl back, who is going to have a better day??  We did a quick check and found that we didn’t stink, there wasn’t spinach between our teeth, and  unlike coming out of the freezing mountains into Chengdu we didn’t have red & yellow plastic bags on our feet.  What a strange lot we foreigners are and how puzzling we must appear to local Asian folk.  Often grouchy, complaining, and bossy, tourists sometimes leave a bad taste in the mouths of well intentioned locals.  Some become jaded and after what we observed I can’t say that I blame them.  With the steady stream of westerners, locals were no longer fascinated with our presence and for the most part ignored our passing.  It was only when exploring away from the tourist areas that we once again found the unassuming, pleasant Lao people.   With only a few major paved roads in the country people get bunched together in Laos.  River travel is slow but pleasant on some routes.  Off the pavement is often impassable especially in the rainy season.  We heard horror stories of 26 hours of mud, pushing the bus in knee deep goop, sleeping overnight in their seats, then finally completing the 14 hour journey 12 hours late.  The Chinese government is helping finish Highway 3 from China to northern Thailand.  In fact many international NGO’s are involved in helping these quiet people improve their standard of living.