"I WISH I HAD A HAMMOCK"

VIENTAINE, LAOS
Temperature: 29 Degrees Celsius
Track of the day: Blue Monday, Jeremy Fisher
"Wake up, you have to call you're family," Alecs says at 4:00 in the morning. My Aunts Jo-Anne, Cindy and Uncle Dan's birthday's are all being celebrated at my grandparents house and I'm Skyping in to see them. As the computer rings, I groggily try to flatten my messy hair while Alecs drifts back to sleep. We hook up cameras and I am able to see the living room complete with all the kids and even Cooper, Kylie and Nathan's new puppy. We talk for close to an hour as the family has cake and appetizers that look quite delicious from my end. Maddy has new glasses and Cooper is maybe as cute as Shadow, MAYBE! Alecs can't help but get up to visit and the kids show us everything around including magic tricks, food and toy balls. After saying goodbye and wishing the three of them a happy birthday I am back to sleep for a few hours. "What do you feel like doing today?" Alecs says after I get up a few hours later. "Nothing really," I say, rubbing my eyes, "how about you?." Alecs agrees that today feels like a lazy day of doing nothing. We have a few things to take care of online and with the best connection we've had yet- this seems like the best place to do it. Around noon we wander down the stairs and out to the hotel restaurant for a buffet lunch. "Let's eat a lot now so we can skip dinner," I say as Alecs loads some orange glazed chicken ontop of his rice. Smoked Salmon Salad, Beef in oyster sauce, fried tofu, fresh fruit and lemon tarts fill the plate along with some soup and salads. As we sit in-front of the pool with a terrible view of a man in a speedo thong we try and enjoy our meal. "When this guy has left, we should come back to the pool," Alecs says discreetly gesturing to the speedo-man. We wait for the better port of an hour before hitting the pool and are rewarded with it being empty. We both jump, or maybe slide, in the pool, which is blissfully cool. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh," says Alecs, "this is the life." We race each other from side to side, test how long we can hold our breath underwater and just float about for quite some time.
Today we are heading to Pakse, southern Laos which is our jump-off point for Champasak where Angkorian ruins are the attraction. "Let's kill some time downtown before our bus picks us up at 7PM" Alecs says packing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. The moment we checkout and step outside the hotel a wave of heat envelopes us yet again. We kill the time playing cards, at which Alecs is beating me, and eating freezies in the shade while watching locals and tourists alike hiding from the heat in every possible way. A tuk--tuk driver sets up a hammock in the back of his converted pickup and settles in for an afternoon nap. "I wish I had a hammock," I say jealously to Alecs as I split the deck of cards.
Now we are surrounded by heaps of farangs (foreigners) in an Internet cafe as we all send messages home. Our sleeper bus heads to Pakse for the 13 hour bus ride later tonight and we may be out of contact for the next week, but many posts will soon come from the Cambodia side - in Siem Reap.
So long for now,
Alecs and Meg in Vientaine.
Ps. Connection is much too slow for photos or videos - they will come in the near future.

"WHERE'S THE EIFFEL TOWER?"

VIENTAINE, LAOS

Temperature: 38.8 Degrees Celsius

Track of the day: Hard day's night, The Beatles

"The monks are late," Alecs says glancing at his watch which reads 6:03AM. It's our last morning in Luang Prabang and we want to catch the monks receiving alms before heading to Vientaine. Alecs purchases some rice from a street vendor and when the line of orange clothed monks starts up the road he kneels and places rice in their bowls. Being careful not to use flash on our camera and to kneel below the monks (as I am female and must be below them) I snap photos and video of Alecs giving Alms. They continue to parade through the city with their silver pots to receive food from all the locals and tourists who do this every morning at the same time all year long. The vendor who sold Alecs the rice kneels beside him handing him 

more and more rice while he is unable to move at the risk of touching the monks. The last monk passes Alecs and continues down the road and the vendor tells Alecs he owes her money for another 10 plates of rice ontop of the two he purch

ased (nearly $50US). After negotiating with her for a few minutes they reach an agreement of 50,000 kip ($8) despite the fact that she forced Alecs into giving the rice to the monks (our first sneaky local we've met). Still feeling quite flustered and a little angry Alecs joins me and we continue onto the morning market. "I'll be sad to leave this place," Alecs says as we pass skewers of roasted rat. I nod my head and point out the stands of water buffalo heads, kidneys and lungs for sale. The winding streets of the morning market display a bazaar of the most fresh items including still flopping fish, pineapples, mangoes, every cut of meat imaginable as well as plenty of vegetables. When we have reached the end of the market we slowly walk back to the hotel and check-out. "I am coming to the bus stop with you," our guesthouse owner tells us as her driver loads a minivan with our luggage. Once at the bus station she takes care of everything and we are sad to say goodbye. "The fact that she made our experience at the bus station so smooth is alone worth staying at her guesthouse," Alecs says as we take our seat. While the bus is not moving, the air-conditioning kicks in, but the moment we

take off, the windows open and the AC turns off.  Luang Prabang is high in the mountains and Vientaine is low in the flat-lands so we wind through the mountains for the next 10 hours. Alecs and I watch the country of rolling hills, tropical foliage and bamboo villages pass by until lunch at a small restaurant en route. "Guys have it so much easier," I say to Alecs after using a squat toilet halfway between Luang Prabang and Vientaine. Alecs grins and hands me some WetOnes while we board the bus again. Soon the scenery becomes flat, the hills dissapear and rice fields replace bamboo trees. "I think we're here," Alecs says as the bus pulls into a large cement pad where teams of tuk-tuk's wait outside. We join six other tourists in a sangathaew (like a tuk-tuk but bigger) and ride to the centre of the city for $1.25 each. "I call the first shower," I say to Alecs as he locks our hotel room door.

 10 hours on a bus without air-conditioning made our skin sticky with perspiration and we smell of smoke and sweat. 

The next morning we head to a Pataxai, the Arc De Trio

mphe of Laos. "It's bigger than the real one in Paris," I say to Alecs as a tuk-tuk driver drops us off. Built in the late sixties, this was erected as a tribute to the one in France, but differs by it's Lao-style decor. Half woman half bird creatures line the top of the structure and we pay 40 Cents to climb to the top. We are rewarded for our efforts with a panoramic view of the city. "Where's the Eiffel Tower?," Alecs jokes while watching people below puttering around the manicured gardens and fountains in front of Patuxai. Lonely Planet describes Vientaine as the sleepiest

capital on earth and although much bigger and faster paced than Luang Prabang, it is considerably calm and slow moving for the biggest city in the country. "Let's go to that temple over there," I say to Alecs, pointing to the top of a gold coloured wat to the east. We walk through the scorching heat, our shirts wet with sweat to the shade of a large temple where novice monks sweep the ground with wicker brooms.  "Let's go into the city centre and find a place to book our bus to Pakse," Alecs says as we flag down a tuk-tuk.  We're dropped off in front of a large plaza and we quickly escape to the shade of a tall building to wipe the sweat off our foreheads. After nearly two hours spent talking and cooling down we venture back out into the heat to explore more of the city. We find a small shop to buy our bus tickets

in and then continue to JoMa Cafe for lunch. "Pepperoni Pizza," Alecs says excitedly as we scan the menu of the air conditioned cafe. We each have a slice of pizza and a mango shake for lupper (lunch/dinner) and head back to the hotel for the night.

Today we are most likely spending the day by the pool at the hotel and relaxing. Tomorrow we have the majority of the day for sight-seeing and then it's off to Pakse (13 hours on a night-bus) which is the jumping point for Champasak and Si Phan Don, our next two destinations.

Until next time so long, we miss you all.

Meg and Alecs in Vientaine

"HOW IS THAT LITTLE GIRL NOT SWEATING"

LUANG PRABANG, LAOS

Temperature: 34 Degrees Celsius and very humid

Track of the day: "How's it going to be", Third Eye Blind

"Time to get a move on," Alecs says at an ungodly hour, already packing his backpack. Today we are moving hotels to get closer to the city for the extra two days we are now spending here. Thongbay (our current guesthouse) is a 20,000 kip ride into town everyday (about $2.50 US) but that is the only complaint we have about it. "I'm gonna miss this place," I say as we close the bungalow door and look out at the river below our balcony. "Me too" Alecs says, "it sure is the most tranquil place we've stayed in yet." Handing the keys over to the friendly Lao staff member, he ties string bracelets around our wrists for good luck and gives me a purple scarf. Our new guesthouse is moments off main street and the lovely Lao woman who runs it is a wealth of knowledge. After checking in however, it becomes obvious that we are the only guests

here, which is both a blessing and a curse. The staff know our every move  but at the same token they dote on us to no end. We arrive in time for the included breakfast which is available at one of two restaurants down the road. We try a small noodle shop called Pho Hanoi that is supposed to have the best Pho Soup in town. "Is this it?" Alecs says as we circle a hole-in-the-wall eatery at the corner of a dusty street. We flash our breakfast vouchers to one of the staff who nods her head and beckons us into a table. Once inside it becomes painfully clear that the flies severely outnumber the people in the restaurant. I twitch my leg and wave the flies from my face as we order beef soup and fried rice. Despite the dirty, unclean and slightly dodgy looking interior, the Pho Soup is to die for. However, by the time the rice arrives my appetite has disappeared after looking at a guests back covered in flies. We make haste after finishing the soup and escape to the much cleaner streets of Luang Prabang for a day of temples. There are over 30 working temples in the city of Luang Prabang, which is small enough to walk across in an hour. We spend a fair amount of time at each temple along the way admiring the detailed carvings and intricate paintings on each. After visiting many temples it is 

easy for them to begin to look the same, but spending an extended amount of time at each gave us the opportunity to see their individuality. Temples are also home to monks who spend their time maintaining them and studying immensely. Watching the monks go about their day is fascinating and we start to see the discipline involved in their way of life. Our guide at the Elephant camp, Et, told us that monks who have one shoulder bare are novices, when both shoulders are covered they are full-fledged monks who must remain this way for the rest of their lives. Some monks wear a yellow sash around their waist, which is to remind themselves to control their minds regarding something personal - perhaps temptation to have a girlfriend, or killing a fly. Our temple tour ends with a visit to My Library, a not-for-profit organization where local children and adults can use free resour

ces to better themselves, such as Internet, books, cameras, tools - it is truly a wonderful place. After making a donation, we head for dinner at my favorite restaurant. "What are you having?" Alecs asks while scanning the menu. "You know exactly what I'm having," I say without evening opening up the menu. Lonely Planet recommends Cafe Ban Vat Sene for it's free WiFi and feta salad and today will be our third day visiting it. The feta salad is truly to die for - simply a leafy salad with a vinaigrette dressing and the most creamy, wonderful feta you could imagine (more than recommended). "I'm pretty tired," Alecs says yawning. I too could use a good sleep and we consent to walking back to the hotel through the night market.

We spent the next morning sleeping in and Skyping family back home before we headed out to 

 spend our last day in Luang Prabang. "Are we going to head up the mountain today," Alecs asks. "We have to make it up, it's our last chance," I say already feeling the extreme temperatures take

 their toll. We stroll down the main street, past vendors selling steamed dumplings, scarves, wooden elephants and sticky rice towards Phu Si Mountain. "We need to just go for it," Alecs says as we sit on a concrete ledge at the base of the mountain staring at the Royal Palace across the street. We both reluctantly start climbing the stairs which aren't as steep as those in Bangkok, but the sheer number of them more than makes up for that. I start counting the stairs, hoping it will make the time pass more quickly and sure it enough it does. 138 stairs later we are at a plateau where the real climb began - 100

meters up to the temples at the top. We purchased two bottles of room-temperature water and silently started the climb up, only 190 stairs left, we were almost halfway. Although the leafy green trees shaded the steps, the sun enveloped us in a thick hazy blanket of heat. With sweat pouring off of us we keep climbing, counting the steps as we wipe our foreheads and necks. "I think I see the top," I say to Alecs when I finally see the tip of a gold coloured  pagoda above us. 23 steps later we reach the top and quickly find a place to rest. "My shirt is sticking to my back," Alecs says fanning our faces with his hat. "Ya, I think we should walk back to the hotel after this and take another shower," I propose. Alecs nods his head and as if noticing the view for the first time, points at the city below. We take some time to enjoy the impressive beauty of the city, surrounded by looming mountains on all sides with the Nam Kong river to the east and the Mekong to the west. Motorbikes and tuk-tuks meander along the winding streets and the roofs of several Wats are visible below. A family of four reach the top of the steps and two small french children run past us playing with one another. "How is that little girl not sweating," I say resentfully, looking at

 her perfectly dry skin. We spend some time in the temple at the top and moments before we venture back down I notice a very large moth-like bug. "Look at the size of that thing," Alecs says holding his hand next to it comparing sizes. We notice a set of stairs leading down the other side of the mountain and decide to climb down that way. "There's absolutely no shade on this side," I say taking the last sip of water, "but I must admit the view is better." The steep stairs are lined with gold Buddha statues and a wooden sign says the footprint of Buddha is still to come. Mid way down, a small entrance to a cave leads us deep into a cavern filled with images of Buddha, lit by candle. "I'm curious about this supposed footprint of Buddha," Alecs says while we climb out of the cave. While walking along the narrow path lined with silver dragons we come across a small cave with a small sign signifying this is the footprint of Buddha, who is supposed to have been a real person.

 We both peer in the cave to find a larger than life footprint, clearly hand-made. We smile at each other and laugh a little before continuing down the mountain. "I think it's hotter down here," Alecs says when we reach the bottom. "Is that even possible," I pant feeling parched. We crawl along the street at a snails pace barely lifting our feet when suddenly Alecs perks up and darts across the road. "MANGO SHAKES," Alecs says as if he's found an oasis in the desert. We collapse on the wooden benches of a small cafe and order 2 lemon and 2 mango shakes, downing them in a matter of seconds. Feeling pleasantly refreshed we head back to the hotel to shower and book our bus tickets to Vientaine for tomorrow.

Tomorrow we are headed to the capital of Laos - Vientaine - said to be the sleepiest capital on the planet. We are very sad to leave Luang Prabang, but happy to be starting another adventure. Bye for now. Miss you all and love hearing from you.

Alecs and Meg in Luang Prabang

"OUR LIVES ARE MADE IN THESE SMALL HOURS"

ELEPHANT CAMP NEAR LUANG PRABANG, LAOS

Temperature: 27 Degrees Celsius

Track of the Day: Little wonders, Rob Thomas

We highly recommend listening to this song either before or after reading this blog. Click here to see the video.

"Do you hear that?" I ask Alecs listening to the steady beating of drums in the distance. The drums signify the giving of alms (food) to the monks, which happens every morning at dawn. "They sure do know how to make an entrance," Alecs says pulling the blankets closer and shivering in the chilly morning air. When we finally decide to drag ourselves out of bed we set off with high hopes of climbing Phu Si Mountain. Our plans however are soon interrupted by the slow way of things. Rather than climbing temples or mountains we consent to lazing abo

ut on the streets, nodding at locals and soaking in the rich culture. "We're just pre-resting," Alecs says while we sit on the boat pier looking out at the Mekong, "for tomorrow'

s elephant trip,"he adds with a grin. "Sure, that sounds like a good excuse," I say feeling guilty about having no agenda. After a strenuous day spent doing nothing we crash back at the guesthouse after packing for tomorrow's adventure. Alecs and I wake up to the sound of two resident cats in a fight on our balcony, the second fight they've had since we arrived. At checkout, the hotel staff allow us to leave our luggage at the front desk until tomorrow and for the first time we are traveling ultra-light. "This is nice," Alecs says as we examine our exciting lack of luggage. A van pulls up to the gates of the guesthouse and we bid the friendly staff goodbye and depart for the elephant camp, small backpack in hand. The van pulls up to the Nam Khan River after travelling for about 20 minutes through the Lao forest. The dr

iver honks his horn and a small wooden boat with a propeller on the back, motors its way to our side of the river.  Careful not to rock the boat, all eight travellers carefully board in

 single file to cross the river. On the other side we are met by two young (and rather handsome if I do say so myself) smiling Lao men. "My name is Et," says one of them "and I will be your guide for the next two days". Et shows us to our riverside bungalows, each with private balconies and an open air shower out back. Two sets of white-washed denim uniforms sit on the beds and we are instructed to change into them and meet at the restaurant. "Oh-la-la, d

on't you look fancy," I say to Alecs,who comes out

 of the washroom in denim Capri's and a denim shirt. "It's your turn next," he says tossing me 

my uniform, smirking.  After taking some photos of each other in our snazzy new clothes, we make our way to the meeting place and start getting to know the other people. There are two Argentinian parents, a mother daughter pair and a British couple who make up a great group of people. We all click and start swapping travel stories and information about our home countries. Et guides us back across the river and we walk through a small village to the elephant sanctuary. "Listen to the children," I say to Alecs as we walk past a small school, where dozens of children sit inside reciting lines from a book. Alecs smiles and dodges a large rooster and a pile of elephant poop. As we climb up the somewhat steep dirt hill to the sanctuary I notice small sheets of what look like cobwebs covering the forest floor and wonder aloud what they might be. My own question is answered when I see a large hairy spider scurry down a hole in the centre of its web. I curl my toes in

 my shoes, move closer to Alecs and watch every slight movement on the ground. After a few more minutes of paranoid walking we arrive in the centre of the sanctuary surrounded on all sides by Asian elephants and I completely forget about the spiders. The elephants are magnificent in their size and commanding presence and although we are scared their gentle nature soon makes us feel at ease. We each grab a bunch of plantain bananas and feed the gentle giants, Alecs going first. A 25-year old female named Mai Song reaches out her trunk to Alecs who places the banana near the end for her to put in her mouth. Mai-Song feels for more bananas and Alecs happily obliges, breaking them off for her, a huge smile spreading across his face. "I want to feed the bull," I say to Alecs, heading to the largest and only male Elephant of the group who is slightly segregated from the rest. Mel-Yon, who is 35 years old watches me approach him with his human-like eyes. I stroke his giant trunk, that is nearly 1.5 times larger than the other elephants and place a single banana near his nostrils. He quickly puts it in

 his mouth and waits for me to stroke him for another one.  Et calls us up to a tower where we can board a bench on the elephants back for a ride through the forest. Alecs and I sit on the bench together and hold on for dear life as the elephant begins to move. "We are certainly at his mercy," Alecs says as our elephant heads down a steep cliff. "Now we will ride the elephants on the neck," Et says to us after our scary ride through the forest, safely strapped onto his back. Alecs is the first (of the two of us) to ride the elephant with no restraints through the forest to the river. Carefully climbing onto the animals neck he straddles it's massive body leaning into her head so as not to fall off. I sit abo

ve him on the bench as the group of elephants and their new mahouts guide them to the river. "Pai-Sai, Pai Sai, Pai Sai (go left go left go left)" Alecs instructs his elephant who h

as decided she wants some plants at the bottom of a hill. As he holds onto her neck for dear life she thrashes her head back and forth, tearing the plant from the ground. When she has finally decided she's had enough, the elephant joins the

 rest of the group who have also learned that you cannot control these animals, the elephant is the one who controls you. "You okay?" I ask Alecs as we approach the river, noticing the sweat forming on his temples. "Ya, it's scary for the first few minutes, but it's actually less threatening than being where you are," he says tapping the side of the elephant to move her to the right.  We cross the river back to the camp where the benches are taken off the elephants backs and let loose to graze on the lush forest.  When the elephants, who were rescued from the logging industry have had enough to eat we each climb back onto their necks to bathe them in the river. "Do you want to ride him," one of the mahouts asks me, pointing to the giant male, Mel-Yon. Mel-Yon is a gentle giant and riding him is much more comfortable than the other elephants due to his massive size. I tower over the rest of the group, who watch Mel-Yon walk into the river and lay down in the water. I pull out a brush and holding onto his neck I wash his giant body. I look over at Alecs who is on top of his elephants back scrubbing her and I give him a thumbs up. Mel-Yon sprays me with water and reaches his giant trunk up and touches my face. I feel a bond between the two of us and when we are finished bathing the elephants I climb off and spend a while stroking his massive head. When I start heading back to the camp, my elephant reaches out for me with his trunk and I r

eturn looking into his eyes. After a little longer bonding with the elephants, we head back to the camp where we change to go tubing and Alecs and I are both buzzing about our respective experiences. "That was amazing," I say, almost skipping back to the bungalow, "how was your elephant?" I ask. Alecs tells me all about how his elephant wouldn't get out of the water until every last spot was washed including where 

Alecs was sitting. When we are all good and ready to get back into the river, Et takes us 30 minutes upstream where we plop onto some inner tubes and lazily float down the river. "I feel so relaxed," Alecs says spinning in his tube, watching the scenery go by. An old man casts a fishing net into the water while a younger boy waters a garden beside the river. We both lean back enjoying every moment spent in this secluded paradise and wish we could stay forever. I continue to notice every dog in the villages we pass, all of whom are happy and well fed. It makes me so happy to know the Lao and Thai treat their animals with such respect - it certainly makes me respect them more in return. I ask Et about this at dinner that night and he explains that monks are not allowed to kill anything, not even mosquito's, and since the way of a monks life is revered, the people also like to follow is as much as possible. "I was a monk for eight years," Et, who is still very young, tells us. "I only wanted to be a monk for 16 days, but when I asked the eldest monk to sign my release papers he always said he was too busy." Eight years later the monk signed Et's papers and he can now think about finding a wife and starting a family. "Being a monk is a great experience, but I want to see my children," he says. Monks in Laos and Thailand do not have to be vegetarians but they are forbidden to eat snake, cow, cat or dog, obviously making me think even higher of them, if it were possible. A small cat comes to the table when we finish eating and wraps around our feet purring and looking for some attention. The British mother and daughter, who have 6 cats back at home spend quite some time petting the orange tabby cat. The group shares stories over a few BeerLao and we end up laughing and talking well into the night. "We will meet here tomorrow morning at 7AM," Et tells us, and with that we are all off to bed. 

The next morning Alecs and I rise early, excited about spending more time with our elephants. The group climbs through the villages to the camp where our elephants are already waiting, eating massive amounts of bamboo brought in several times a day by the mahouts. I walk over to the male elephant while Alecs spends his time over near Mai-Song. "Mat Long (lie down)," we instruct the elephants and Alecs and I both climb on the giant Mel-Yon, him in front and me holding on behind. I reach down to strok

e his side and we set off towering over the other elephants. "He really is more comfortable," Alecs says soon after departing. "I told you so," I tell him, still amazed that we are here. We cross the river and our elephant soaks us with his trunk several times before returning to the other side. "This concludes our mahout training," Et tells us after we climb down from the elephants. I stand beside Mel-Yong and say goodbye stroking his trunk and he wraps it around my shoulder pulling me closer. This gesture would have scared me at the beginning of our trip, but knowing his gentle nature, I now let him pull me in and sadly say goodbye. Next we are driven to Tad Sai waterfall where we relax in the cold pool that forms at the base of each tier. From the waterfalls, Alecs and I, the Argentinian couple and Et spend the next two hours kayaking back to the camp. "This is harder than I thought it would be," Alecs says as we start falling behind the Argentinians who are professional kayakers. The scenery is beautiful and we pass huge mountains and several villages that thrive off the river.  Children bathe in the river, buffalo graze and 

dogs play. Several bamboo fishing traps line the shore and wom

en sift through the rocks for gravel for building things. Alecs starts humming the tune to a song we both know, Little Wonders by Rob Thomas, and soon we are both singing the rather fitting lyrics. "Our lives are made in these small hours," I sing, thinking that there couldn't be a better song for this moment. When we arrive back at camp we are both donning blisters on our hands and I have my first sign of a tan! We bid farewell to the camp and the guides and already feel a pit in our stomachs about leaving. Back at our hotel in Luang Prabang, we both agree this was the single greatest thing we have ever done and we would do it again in a heartbeat. "I will never forget that," I say to Alecs, who nods, deep in thought. "That's one thing on our bucket list that we can check-off," he adds grinning for the first time since we left the elephant camp.

We have fallen in love with Luang Prabang so much that we have decided to spend and extra two nights here and skip Vang Vieng (backpacker party central) entirely. Tomorrow should be another exciting day in the city, that is more like a town.

Meg and Alecs in Luang Prabang

Videos wouldn't post again, maybe they will later.

"SORRY, I THOUGHT YOU WERE LAO"

LUANG PRABANG, LAOS

Temperature: +6 in the morning, +26 degrees Celsius in the afternoon.

Track of the day: You and I, Jason Mraz

"Luang Prabang is tonic for the soul," I read aloud to Alecs from our Lonely Planet guidebook. "It says here even the most jaded traveller will be captivated by it's charm." Laying on a traditional Lao mat on the wooden deck of our bungalow watching children play in the river below makes this statement ring true. 'This is my favorite place so far," Alecs says

eyeing a young monk washing his puppy in the river. Luang Prabang is the gem of Laos and the French influence is evident here in everything from the cobblestone streets to the many cafes dotting Sisavangvong (the main street). It is not, however, the French feel that gives Luang 

Prabang its feeling of timelessness, rather it's the culture. According to a book in our guesthouse, Laotians avoid stress at all costs. Therefore they believe if there isn't an element of fun in something, it's not worth doing. This cest la vie motto has the people smiling at every instance, whether to laugh at themselves or at you, it's all in good fun. We spend an hour watching Lao women with cone shaped hats farm their vegetable gardens across the river, while young monks join the other children tubing down the river.  Although these people have no running water, electricity or even doors to their bamboo huts, they seem happier than most back home. "I think we have something to learn from these people," I say to Alecs between sips of my BeerLao, a very smooth beer that would go well with Clamato juice. Alecs nods his head and stretches out on the mat, succumbing to the slowness of Lao life.

  A few hours later we venture into the city where the night market is beginning to set up and young men are buying roses for Valentines day. We walk down the main drag to "All Lao Tourist Agency' and book a 2-day mahout training course for February 16 and 17th. "You learn how to ride the elephant on the neck," the man behind the desk tells us. "You feed your elephant, wash it in the river and learn basic commands," he adds. Alecs and I look at each other, excitement spreading

 across our faces and agree to book it. Included in the tour are all meals, accommodation at the Elephant camp, a trek to a hill tribe village and kayaking on the river. I had previously researched this company and chose it because the elephants are rescued as were their mahouts, from poverty. With our receipt in hand and a bounce in our step we head to the Indochina for dinner, where a live band starts playing shortly after we arrive. I make friends with a cat on the roof beside our table and she patiently waits around until Alecs' dinner arrives. "You can give her this," Alecs says rolling his eyes as he moves some beef to the side of his plate. I set the meat on the roof and the already well-fed clean cat greedily eats it up and then meows for more. Alecs has

 learned it is better not to argue with me when it comes to feeding strays and has consented to feeding my addiction for the duration of this trip. "We should go down to the night market," Alecs says after settling the bill, "it looked pretty neat". We meander down the road, weaving between stalls selling pink

 balloons and roses and soon we arrive at the night market, which is now in full swing. The main road is now impassible by car and hundreds of women lay their products out for both tourists and locals alike. "Same Same shirts," Alecs says stopping at a vendor selling a vast array of t-shirts, including a 'Same Same But Different' shirt. This is a saying used widely in this area by locals to explain to tourists that they have the same product you are looking at in either a different size or colour and sometimes even style and price. Alecs bargains for three t-shirts and leaves feeling quite happy about his purchases. "I really want to get a bottle of snake whisky," I say to Alecs as we continue our stroll through the market. "Do you want to drink it?" Alecs says surprised that I want a bottle of liquor containing an actual snake inside. "No, I just want to put it on display

in our liquor cabinet when we get back to Canada," I say laughing. We choose a most gruesome looking cobra staring out at us with it's milky white eyes and thin black tongue. A shiver runs down my spine as I hold the small bottle and Alecs pays $4US for it. The small city is bustling with people either walking through the market, driving tuk-tuks or sipping Lao coffee at the many restaurants along the street. 60-Watt light-bulbs tied to strings hang at every vendor and the many temples lining the streets are illuminated in bright lights. A warm breeze moves through the air, while a cool one blows in from the river. Friendly Laotians smile and nod as we pass by, gawking at Alecs. A Lao man starts speaking to Alecs in his local tongue and quickly realizes he doesn't speak the language by the puzzled look on Alecs' face. "Sorry, I thought you were Lao," the man says apologetically, "you look Thai or Lao," he adds. Alecs explains that he is Filipino, but is not surprised by this question as most locals in both Thailand and Laos have thought he was one of them.  Feeling rather smug about being mistaken for a local, we set off to find a tuk-tuk back to the hotel.

Tomorrow we will attempt to climb the 100-meter steep stairs of Phu Si. My grandparents

climbed this mountain back in October, so Alecs and I are determined that we will make it to the top as well. So long for now!

Meg and Alecs in Luang Prabang

PS. Today's video wouldn't upload for some reason. We will try again later, but we'll let you know if it's there.

"I THINK I HAVE A CALLOUS ON MY BUTT"

LUANG PRABANG, LAOS
Temperature: 22 degrees celsius
Track of the day: Long Day, matchbox 20
'I think I see one," I shout to Alecs as I cross a deserted road to flag down a tuk-tuk at 5:00 in the morning. We left the tranquility of LaLuna resort twenty minutes ago and have been walking the empty roads in Chiang Rai, backpacks and all, ever since. "Bus station please," Alecs says to the driver while swimming his backpack in the back and then helping me with mine. The man pulls up right next to our 6AM bus to Chiang Khong and exhausted, we struggle to pull our bags onto it. "We made it," I say to Alecs with a sign of relief, collapsing on the bus to Chiang Khong and exhausted, we struggle to pull our bags onto it. "We made it," I say to Alecs with a sigh of relief, collapsing on the seats at the back of the bus. A few minutes later a group of monks politely kicks us out of our seats and we move a few rows ahead to they can sit together. This was to be our firsttaste of priority seating for monks that is exercised on all public transportation throughout Thailand. Time on the bus passes quickly and close to the end of the ride a smiling Thai woman boards with two tubs of freshly caught fish that are still flopping and gasping for air. Alecs nudges me and we both smile, examining the large black catfish in one tub and smaller silver fish in the other. When we reach the fish-ladies stop Alecs helps her carry the tubs off the bus and returns smelling quite fishy. It's 8:30AM when we reach Chiang Khong, and we rush to the pier to cross into Laos. After getting our exit stamp from Thailand, we queue in the Laos immigration line. "We need to get a visa first," I say to Alecs as we stand with dozens of backpackers. 45 minutes later we have our 22-day visa and a Lao stamp in our passports. "I can't believe we had to pay $42USD for our visas and the Americans only have to pay $30USD," Alecs says referring to the fact that Canadians pay the most of any nationality for a Lao Visa. "I know," I say, " especially since Laos was the most heavily bombed country in the world, by the Americans," I say grudgingly. I exchange some of our money into Laotian kip and eagerly count what seems like monopoly money. "How much did we get," Alecs

 asks while we walk to the slow boat pier. "500,000 kip," I reply, handing him the money for safe keeping. "We're half way to being millionaires," Alecs jokes. Buying our slow boat tickets is much less difficult that we had predicted and now we're surrounded by hundreds of backpackers boarding the boat. My excitement about this right of passage on the backpacker Indochina route diminishes the moment we board the wooden boat. 100 + people are crammed in a boat built for 60 on tiny wooden benches with no room to move. We're one of the last people to board the boat and spotting a vacant bench we rush to claim it. It soon becomes apparent why this bench remained unclaimed as it has been pushed forward so our knees are touching the bench in-front of us. "This gives new meaning to pain in the ass, " I grown to Alecs, as if this were all his fault. We shift positions every 20 minutes for the next 7 hours and I scowl for half of them. "My butt is numb now," I say to Alecs around the fifth hour into the trip. "Isn't that a good thing

?" he asks, taking a bite of a protein

 bar we brought from home. I nod my head, watching a group of naked Laotian children frolicking in the river, waving at us as we pass by. Limestone rocks jut out of the water towards the sky, lush green hills surround us on all sides and powdery sandbars line the shore. After what seemed like forever, we finally pull into our destination for the night - Pak Beng. A chaotic circus of backpackers getting off the boat, hotel workers convincing us their guesthouse is the best in town, and little kids carrying tourists backpacks twice their size crowd the pier. By the time we make it up off the boat and up the steep hill to the city, we settle on a guesthouse 300-meters up the road for convenience sake. At first glance the small basic room with a hot shower seems worth th $12 asking price, but after paying and settling in for bed it becomes a different story. "I think we should use our sleep sheets (thin silk sleeping bags)" Alecs says as we examine the grimey walls, off-white sheets and deplorably uncomfortable mattress. "And our mosquito nets," I add, noticing a small spider in the dirty window. Despite the condition of the room and mattress we fall asleep rather quickly. The roosters start crowing at 2AM - so much for the crack of dawn. A few hours later, the man in the room next to us coughs and we are

e wide awake. "I want to beat everyone else to the boat," Alecs says as he packs his bag in the dark (no electricity until 10AM). "Me too," I say, "I want to get a good seat up front." We checkout and walk down the hill towards the pier, stopping to buy sandwiches and snacks en route. We arrive at 7:15, 1.45 hours before the boat departs and are the first ones there. After walking the length of the entire boat and examining every seat we settle for one right up front with plenty of leg room and prepare for another long day on the river. Young Laotians with incredible monkey-like capabilities climb on the roof depositing bags of rice before we depart. With big smiles on our faces and much less cramped seat, Alecs and I stare at the stunning scenery as we set off. We pass village after village of small bamboo huts where water buffalo wade in murky brown water and men cast fishing lines from cliffs above. The 

Mekong provides sustenance for life to many Laotians. It is their food, water, a place to bathe and do laundry as well as a source of entertainment for the children. A few meters from shore is enough grass to sustain water buffalo, cattle and the occasional goat. Alecs nudges me and points to a puppy running down from a village to the river for a drink of 

water. We try everything to pass the time, but still find it creeps by at a snails pace. "What's that," Alecs says, pointing to a set of white stairs and a dozen Buddha statues leading to the mouth of a cave. "That's Pak Ou Caves," I say excited searching for our Lonely Planet Book. "It says here in the book that the caves are only 25 km from Luang Prabang." We both look out the side of the boat longingly, hoping to arrive in the city sooner rather than later. It doesn't take much time before we arrive in the UNESCO world heritage sight that is Luang Prabang. Our hotel is walking distance to the pier and we quickly crash on the bed, cranking up the air conditioning and reminiscing about the last two days. "I think I have a callous on my butt," Alecs says after sitting up for the 

first time since we got off the boat. "I know what you mean," I say sympathetically, "why don't you go have a shower so we can go have dinner?" Alecs moans, "I can't," he says, "my body's a temple, it's too heavy to move." I roll my eyes at his attempt at being witty and push him off the bed.

Tomorrow will be another adventure filled day as we get to explore the french-influences town of Luang Prabang. We are staying in Thongbay Guesthouse, until next time, so long.

Meg and Alecs in Luang Prabang

PS: Connection is very slow here, photos will come later in the day (tomorrow for most of you)

YOU REALLY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BUDDHISM

CHIANG RAI, THAILAND

Temperature: 23 degrees celcius

Track of the day: Only time, Enya

"Do you mind if I turn the light on," Alecs asks after hearing me rollover in bed. "What time is it," I respond grogilly still keeping my eyes closed. He informs me that it's only 4:00AM and as I hear him walk towards the light switch I shout at him to go back to sleep like a normal person. Two and a half hours later we're sitting in the hotel restaurant eating a not-so-great breakfast that is typical of Thailand and starting to get excited about the day.  "Relaxing here at the resort was nice," Alecs says between sips of coffee, "but I feel a little too isolated here." He's quite right, pampering ourselves is great for a day, but it should be left at that - a day. After taking my last bite of rice we head to the lobby to make some calls home, through the wonderful world of Skype. A pop-up

 box appears on my screen alerting me that 'Kevin and Lorrie Green' are trying to call me.   After clicking 'answer' I am instantly transported to my parents kitchen and they into Laluna Resort. After a 45 minute conversation with mom, dad, Sam, a whining Klinker and a quick look at my little Shadow, I feel ready to conquer anything. Alecs checks in with his family just in time for our minivan to arrive for our full day tour. Patiently waiting in the van Alecs asks how many more people I think will be joining us. "Probably at least 3 or 4 more," I reply, counting the seats in the van. A young Thai girl open the passenger door up front and introduces herself as 'Bhee.' We grin widely at each other when the van sets out the driveway with only the tour guide, driver and the two of us in tow. Bhee is fluent in english and french and is a fountain of knowledge about the area and of course the culture. Stop number  one has us walking through the small hill-tribe village of the Akha people, who came here illegally from Myanmar many years ago. "The older people in the village do not have papers," Bhee tells us, "but the younger generations have Thai passports." We wind through the village along dirt paths, past houses made of banana leaves and bamboo and soon we have a couple of kids in toe. "How old do you think this child is," Bhee asks us, gesturing to a small boy who barely reaches Alecs' chest. Alecs guesses 6, while I gauge him to be about 7. "Would you believe he is 13," she tells us, noticing the shock spreading across our faces. Bhee continues to tell us that these people are very poor and the children are small because they are malnourished. In spite of these peoples hardships they are still smiling and making the best out of what they have - something we could all live by. When we reach the end of the village some local woman have small souvenier stands setup. Alecs and I have our eye a long handcrafted wooden opium pipe and purchase it despite having

 nothing to do with it. "Now we go to the Yao hill-tribe," Bhee tells us as we walk five minutes to another small village. Although these two tribes are moments and steps away from each other, they could not be more different. The Yao people dress is much longer clothing because they migrated from a cold part of southern China. "The Yao tribe values education," Bhee tells us, "but the Akha tribe does not think education is important, they believe in hard work." We pause at an older Yao woman who is sitting alongside a dirt r

oad in the village cross-stitching a purse. "The skirt this woman is wearing took her one year to sew," Bhee tells us, pointing out the intricate detail that went into such a piece of work. "I can't imagine that," Alecs says looking closer at the colours and designs that cover the entire skirt. Wandering around the village, we can't help but wish we could have spent more time in the hill-tribes getting to know the people and their way of life. Just as soon as we arrive we are heading off to another part of Thailand - the ruins of Wat Jedee Luong. Alecs points out the window of the van at an Pagoda that we soon learn is 800 years old, only 200 years younger than the city. Tucking our bare feet under our legs, careful not to point our toes towards the golden buddha before us we wait patiently while Bhee pays her respects to the holy Buddha. "Why do some of the monks wear different coloured tops," I ask Bhee after she finishes praying. Pointing to a monk in the distance who is wearing

the traditional orange robe on the bottom with a yellow robe on the top I explain my question to her. She tells us that the colour doesn't mean anything and then pauses to stare at us for a moment. "You really don't know anything about Buddhism," she says laughing. We nod our heads in shameful agreement clinging to her every word so as to be better informed. Next stop is the Golden Triangle, where Laos, Myanmar and Thailand meet along the Mekong River. We travel up to a lookout point where we can see all three countries come together in what looks like seamless harmony. "Lao people are friendly like Thai's," Bhee tells us as we stare out at the mountainous valley, "but Burmese not so much," she adds. There is no love loss between these two cultures, but the dark past between them makes it easy to understand the negative feelings they have for each other.  We head to an opium museum before a nice buffet lunch where we learn about the illegal growing, selling and transporting of opium that

 continues to support this area. Then we continue north to Chaing Saen, the northern most city in Thailand. Chiang Saen borders Myanmar and is bustling with locals wh

o cross the border to gamble and buy knockoffs like gucci which are both illegal in Thailand. "Do you want to visit a Jade factory," Bhee asks us when we enter the city. We both nod our heads interested to see how Jade is cut. There are two rows of small desks that separate the men, who carve the Jade into sculptures and the women who polish them. We learn about the qualities of the rock and that the most expensive Jade is a perfect emerald green. "I like the lavender coloured one," I whisper to Alecs, after learning that it is also the most imperfect colour of Jade. "That's good news for me," Alecs says noting the cost of a top quality

Jade stone. After walking quickly through the high-class souvenir shop we head to the sprawling border market to do some shopping. Several monks pass us by on the street, some shopping, others chatting on their cell phones. The day ends with a scenic drive through the mountains, past vendors selling strawberries, pineapples and toasted chestnuts. "Too bad we didn't have more time here," I say while staring longingly out the window at the beautiful scenery. "I agree," Alecs says, "but i'm sure we're going to love Laos." Tomorrow morning we head to the Thai-Laos border in hopes to catch the 2-day slowboat down the Mekong river to Luang Prabang. We'll be spending the night in Pak Beng, Laos and will be out of touch for at least two days and perhaps three, but a long post is sure to come after that. Until next time, so long.

Alecs and Meg in Chiang Rai

PS. We've added videos to our past two blogs as well as this one. Click on the blog title to view these.

"I CAN SEE MY BREATH"

CHIANG RAI, THAILAND

Temperature: 23 degree celcius

Track of the day: Somewhere over the rainbow, Israel Kamikawio'ole

'Burr, it's cold," Alecs says through chattering teeth as we walk past palm trees wrapped in white lights towards the hotel restaurant for breakfast. It's 6:00Am and the resort is completely silent exeot for 

a few crickets chirping and a rooster crowing in the distance. Breakfast here is much better than in bangkok, although the wiener-style sausages still find their way to the buffet. "I feel lazy today," I say to Alecs before taking a bite of a croissant, 

"what do you feel like doing?" We quickly discuss our plans over a cup of coffee and decide a morning dip in the pool will help us map our our day. After eating we quickly change into our swim suits and walking only meters from our b

ungalow, we stretch out our towels on the poolside chairs. "You go first," Alecs says dipping his toe in the pool. "No, you go in and tell me how cold it ism" I retort, gauging the temperature of the water myself

. We both agree to enter the water at the same time, but only I hold up my end of the bargain. "YOU BRAT," I growl at Alecs, "get in here." After a few moments of obviously careful contemplation Alecs slowly lowers himself into the pool, tiptoeing to keep as much of his body above the water as possible. "Once you get all the way in it's not so bad," I say to Alecs swim to the deep end. Soon enough Alecs joins me and we start to warm up. "I can see my breath," I say as I watch a foggy wish linger above the water when I exhale. Alecs breaths out to test the validity of what i;ve said. "You're right," he says incredulously, "that must be why we're the only ones in here." We spend the next hour soaking in the tranquility of the morning, listening to the birds chirping and watching night turn into day. By the time we arrive back in the room, our plans for the day remin unknown and i've come down with a traveller's stomach bug. "Why don't we go to the lobby (where there is wireless internet) a

nd book some hotels?" Alecs suggests after we finish showeiring and changing. "That sounds like a good idea," I reply, taking some medicing from home to settle my stomach. "We also need to figure out how to get to Laos from here," I add. We spend a few hours booking hotels, checking e-mail and researching about the Laos-Thai border at Chiang Kong/H

uay Xai.

We book a tour through the hotel travel agency for tomorrow to visit the Karen Hill Tribes and the Golden Tiangle and agree to grab a bite to eat before heading out. "Watermelon shake please," Alecs says to the waitress without looking at the menu. I order a concoction  called sawasdee Laluna, which is made from mixed berries, yogurt, vanilla ice-cream and honey. Soon after ordering our meals are brought out to the table and Alecs' coconut rice, which is formed into a star, is topped with toasted cashews. "Oh no," Alecs says - a worried look spreading across his face, "nuts." I assure Alecs there are no nuts in my spaghetti or salad, but he doesn't rest easy until i've completely finished my meal and assured him I'm not going into Anaphylactic shock. 

Even then he still won't stop worrying until well after they've cleared our plates and we've paid the tab. When Alecs is finally satisfied I'm not going tro have an allergic reaction we venture out onto the steets of Chaing Rai and only a block into our walk I clumsily slip on some gravel dislocating my knee (an old injury) and scraping up my leg - but most importantly bruising my ego.  I pop my knee back into place and brush the gravel from my chin reassuring a very worried Alecs thay i'm alright and we continue on. The streets are much less busy than Bangkok, making crossing them a much easier task. Some sort of meat 

rotates in a street vendors shop and I ask Alecs what he thinks it might be. "It's a chicken," Alecs says almost laughing as me. I look closer and realize the roasted chicken still has it's neck and some feather on and I feel foolish for not recogniing. it. We weave around scooter, motorbikes, cars and trucks until we reach a temple that looks more chinese than Thai. However, today was laundry day and we are both wearing shorts as our other clothes are being cleaned at the hotel. "We can't wear shorts into a temple," I say to Alecs, who agress. My stomach starts to hurt again and we decide the best thing to do is head back to the hotel. We agree to spend the rest of the  day here relaxing and regenerating for the weeks ahead which will have us constantly busy.

Around 5:00PM we cross the street to a small vendor to buy some snacks instead of dinner, which is quite expensive here at the hotel. Our Thai language book in hand, we r

ehearse the basic words before moving to the counter to pay. The small, friendly-looking woman behind the counter adds up the prices, counting in Thai and we both grin excitedly at eachother because we understand her. "Korp Kun Krap" (Thank you) Alecs says bringing his hands together inthe respectful 'Wai'> The lady smiles widely at his attempt to speak Thai and we both leave feeling pretty smug with ourselves. 

Tomorrow will be a busy and eventful day that will take us to some remote hill-tribes and the northern most point of Thailand where it boards Laos and Myanmar (Burma). Today may have been a quiet and relatively uneventful day, but we enjoyed a moment to pamper ourselves and relax, but we are really looking forward to tomorrows adventure. Until next time, so long.

Meg and Alecs in Chiang Rai

CLICK ON THE BLOG TITLE TO SEE A VIDEO

"WE'RE NOT IN BANGKOK ANYMORE"

CHIANG RAI, THAILAND

Temperature: 31 degrees celcius

Track of the day: Sleeping to Dream - Jason Mraz

"Listen to this," I say to Alecs, reading from the Lonely Planet Thai language book. Alecs stops packing for a moment as I continue reading. "In Thailand you may hear a person who arrives late for an appointment joke about being on 'Thai Time' as punctuality is generally a more fluid concept than some westerners are used to," I read aloud in our

hotel room. Alecs smiles. "Sounds like Filipino time," he says as he stuffs his last t-shirt in his backpack. It's our last day in Bangkok and we want to get half a day of shopping in before heading to the Train Station for our journey north to Chiang Mai. We arrive at MBK shopping mall 15 minutes before opening and when the doors do open guards stand at the entryways saluting us while dozens of clerks line the aisles dutifully waiting to serve the people. "I could get used to this," I

say as we take the escalator upstairs to an entire floor of cell phones. We walk past hundreds of shops all selling phones - a monk stands at a kiosk testing a small flip phone and I can't help but smile. The floor above sells nothing but t-shirts and the one above that is all furn

iture. "This place is amazing," says Alecs eying some Nintendo DS games on the electronics floor, "it's like a market in a modern mall," he adds. After a few hours of wandering around the massive mall we take the Skytrain back to our hotel and checkout. A quick taxi ride and we're at the Hualompong Train Station where we find a piece of floor in the centre of the station to camp out for a few hours.  A large group of scouts crowds the station and Alecs and I are soon surrounded by chattering children. "Kids  really do act the same world wide," Alecs says as a young boy throws a rubber lizard at a group of girls. Time goes by faster than expected and now it's almost 6:00PM, time for our train to arrive. Alecs and I walk out to the platform where the mix of heat from the trains, people and the Bangkok weather come down on us like a wet blanket. 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes - 45 minutes later the train finally arrives. "Thai time," Alecs 

says recalling the exert I read earlier about punctuality being a little looser here in Thailand. We smile at each other and board the narrow hallway of our first class train compartment.  "I can't fit," Alecs whines as he tries to squeeze himself with his backpack on through the narrow compartment doors of seats 19 and 20. "Take of your backpack," I say, rolling my eyes. We have a private compartment with a small sink and plenty of room to store our luggage. "This is going to be a nice ride," I say to Alecs as we settle on our couch waiting for the air conditioning to kick in. The trai

n finally departs and only a little more than an hour late. Soon a young Thai man takes our dinner order and another converts our couch into two bunk beds with a pillow and a blanket. I claim the bottom bunk while Alecs se

ttles up top and after dinner we lock up our compartment door and settle into bed.  The gentle rocking of the train has us both

 asleep in no time, curled up under our blankets as the air-conditioning keeps the room cool. 

"We're not in Bangkok anymore," Alecs says from the top bunk the next morning. I open the window curtains

 and although it's still dark out it's quite evident we are somewhere in the north. Tall lush mountains loom over us and forests with jungle vines and leafy moist floors line the train tracks. "Look at that,"I gasp pointing to the sun peeking out from behind the mountains in the distance. "Wow, it's beautiful," Alecs replies as w

e both stare in awe at the orange ball of fire that reflects off the morning dew on the leafy trees. An hour later a railway employee walks the halls of our train car calling out "Chiang Mai, next stop, Chiang Mai." We reluctantly pack up our bags and prepare for our departure out into northern Thailand. As the train comes to a stop at the manicured station we squeeze our way through the hallway and quickly bargain down a tuk-tuk to take us to the

 bus station. "It's like Calgary," Alecs says about the weather while we hop off the tuk-tuk. The humidity here in Chiang Mai is next to nothing and according to our iPhone, it's only 25 degrees celcius. We purchase our $5 train ticket for the three hour journey to Chiang Rai and quickly board our bus. The a

ir-conditioned coach also includes a drink and snack from the on-board waitress and arrives at our destination right on time.  "Where you go?" asks a gentleman waiting outside the bus as we pick up our backpacks. "Laluna," I reply as I swing the pack over my shoulders. We negotiate a price and hop in his Sangathaew - a converted pickup truck with a roof for the short ride toour hotel. "I sure hope this place isn't a dive," I say to Alecs as we pass a scruffy, but healthy looking dog crosses the road behind us. My questions are soon answered as we pull up the long driveway to Laluna Resort and Spa, lined with palm trees and a serene fountain out front. A staff member leads us to our room located in front of the tranquil pool and we step onto the teak wood floors and excitedly explore our large clean room. "I can't believe we only paid $28 for this place," Alecs says while we look out our window at the garden oasis in front of us. The clientele here are mostly seniors and wealthy looking europeans in speedos (yuck!), and our age and budget group seem to be unrepresented. "This place is supposed to be $100 a night," I tell Alecs, reading from the Laluna website. We both count our blessings and settle into bed for a good nights rest. Tomorrow is more sight seeing and surely another great adventure. Until next time, so long.

Meg and Alecs in Chiang Rai.

MY LEGS FEEL LIKE JELLO

BANGKOK, THAILAND

Temperature: 32 degrees Celsius

Track of the day: "Have you ever seen the Rain", Rod Stewart

"This is our stop," I say to Alecs as the skytrain pulls into Mo Chit station - gateway to the Chatuckuck weekend market. It's 8:30 AM and the market just opened half and hour ago, but we've been up for several hours in anticipation of our next journey out into Bangkok. "Just

 follow the other farangs (foreigners)," Alecs says as we weave past two tuk-tuk's and a taxi on the road. Ahead, a few vendors line the road and I wonder if this is what all the hype was about. My questions are soon answered when we stumble 

on an intricate mass of vendors selling everything imaginable. The weekend market has become it's own entity, operating like a city unto itself, with maps and signs to help you find your way around. Our first stop was to get married, or at least to buy the rings to make us look married. Out bible (The Lonely Planet Southeast Asia on a Shoestring guidebook) suggested unwed couples wear mock wedding rings in Laos to prevent disapproving glares from guesthouse owners. "How about that one?," Alecs asks pointing to a plain silver band behind the glass. "Sure, but you have to promise to spend more than 130 Baht on a real one okay," I reply, fitting the ring to my finger. Alecs buys a plain silver band as well and we continue on our way. I talked to mom at work this morning and she warned against visiting the pet section - but alas, the magnetic draw to animals in my very soul had be stumbling upon it in no time. Huskies, beagles, golden retrieves - it took great restraint not to buy one. "It could fit in my backpack," I plead to Alecs, "who would even know it was there?" I add. Alecs shakes his head and leads me out of the area pointing out that it would be cruel to take a new puppy across southeast Asia smuggled in a backpack. We spend hours shopping and at some points we are so deep in the maze of vendors we forget it's daytime. Our last stop was to buy some grapes for tomorrow's train ride to Chiang Mai, but it took us nearly three hours to find our way there.

"Where to next?" Alecs asks as we casually hop on the skytrain, to which we've become quite well acquainted with. "We need to change trains at Siam to the Sukhumvit line and go to Saphan Taksin station to catch a

water taxi," I reply feeling like pro. Within no time we're standing at the pier boarding a boat to take us to the Grand Palace. "Stop number 9 - Tha Chang," Alecs says, pointing to our destination, a few meters ahead on the river. We hop off the boat and find our way to the entrance of the Grand Palace. The Palace walls are huge and seem to line the streets for blocks and as we head down the walkway towards the palace a guard stops us. "No short pants," she says pointing to a sign explaining the strict dress code. We both knew about the dress code in temples, but I was wearing Capri's and Alecs was wearing long

 short so we thought we were going to be okay. Nevertheless, we moved on and took the water taxi back one stop to Wat Arun - which

 was founded in the Ayutthaya period by King Taksin who arrived there at the end of the royal barge procession. The temple is massively tall and steep stairs make their way to the top. It's 1:00PM and the sun is a it's hottest acting quite unforgiving as we wipe the sweat off our foreheads. "Ready?" Alecs asks as we stare up at the steps leading to the top. I reluctantly nod my head and we begin our way up. The steps are very steep and the higher we go, the steeper they become. By the time we reach the top, we are both using the railing to pull ourselves up each stair. The temple is a tribute to Buddha and the steps are designed to be steep so that you will be crawling up to worship Him. We certainly felt like we were crawling, but a feeling of accomplishment came over us when we reached the top and we were rewarded with amazing views over the Chao Phraya River. From here, we could see the peaks of W

at Phra Kaew and the Grand Palace. We watched monks puttering around the temples and sought comfort in the shade - 

of which there was very little. "This is incredible,"Alecs says as he watches the boats winding along the river. "I know, and just think, a week ago we were at work," I remind him. We make our way to the stairs and butterflies build in my stomach as we start our decent. Going up

 may have seemed difficult, but going down the steep and very narrow steps was much harder. I clung to the railing for dear life with both hands every step of the way, as did Alecs, and after what seemed like forever we were at the bottom admiring the temple again. "My legs feel like Jello," Alecs says at the bottom as we pull a bottle of water out of our backpack. The smell of burning incense and toasting sesame seeds fill the air and our stomach start to grumble.

We make our way back to the hotel in search of a restaurant and to pick up our train tickets. 

We find a delicious place to eat in our own backyard (the hotel restaurant) and I order Pad Thai while Alecs orders a fried rice dish. "This is the best pad Thai I've ever had," I say to Alecs as I find my appetite for the first time on this trip. Alecs remains unaware that I'm even at the table as he slurps on his fresh watermelon shake. "You should try this," he finally says as if only now realizing I exist. I take a sip of his watermelon shake and am rewarded with delicious pieces of fresh watermelon dancing on my tongue - or at least it tastes that way. After lunch we pick up our train tickets for tomorrows 13 hour journey to Chiang Rai.

Before arriving in Bangkok, we though this large city would be our least favorite of the places we will be visiting. Although it is only our first stop, I can't see us finding anything negative to say about it. We love Bangkok, we love everything about it, and we are already looking forward to our next day here after Cambodia.

Goodbye for now! Thanks to everyone for reading and writing, we miss you all! Our next post will be the day after tomorrow as we are taking a 13 hr train ride to Chiang Mai tomorrow.

Love Meg and Alecs in Bangkok

(Can't seem to get the videos up, will try again later)