"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)