Fnif
12-10-2006, 01:03 PM
I am a Corkman contacting you from Laos. It is next to Vietnam and above Cambodia. We came here by plane, with the noisy panic of those countries still ringing in our ears.
This emotional baggage we think was subtly confiscated at customs -since we came to Laos all efficiency and sense of urgency within us has withered.
We have been reduced to pleased bodies swaying in hammocks, occasionally loading ourselves into a rusted bus, only to be delivered to a town with different kinds of hammocks and a wider selection of ice cream.
In sympathy with the mood of the country we have ceased all diary writing, travel-book reading and cultural exploration. I have even stopped sweating. In short, we are having a lovely time.
Yesterday we went rafting. It is called white water rafting and we were made to wear helmets. It was exciting before we started it. The prospect of danger and wetness made us giddy. The overbearing enthusiasm of a sleeveless t-shirted guide was almost appropriate for what we expected we were about to experience.
Is there some saying about far away rapids being whiter? Anyway the river we were on was a case study in serenity. We floated lazily in our alarmingly coloured inflatable raft, the foolishness of helmets and lifejackets and their bright colours all the starker for the gentle, playful spinning of the boat. The enthusiasm of our guide was both indefatigable and utterly exhausting. I fell asleep on the side of the raft.
We are in a place called Luang Prabang. Like Ninh Binh, Phonm Pehn, Siem Reap, Don Det, and Vang Vieng, I find this city very pleasant to pronounce.
There are a lot of monks in this town. They are a beautiful sight, wearing gold and saffron robes with shaved heads and black umbrellas when the sun is particularly fierce.
We have come to differentiate between the monks with status and peace about them from the vast numbers of trainee teenage monks who are as likely to beckon you over and whisper seedily about some marijuana for sale as the next man.
We even met three monks haging out in a dark alley, and they looked us up and down and uttered something unprovoked. They were in fact creeps in monks clothing.
There is not much else to write - it seems to be a symptom of the particular brand of laziness we are experimenting with, and it is reputed to be considered rude here to struggle too hard against it.
This emotional baggage we think was subtly confiscated at customs -since we came to Laos all efficiency and sense of urgency within us has withered.
We have been reduced to pleased bodies swaying in hammocks, occasionally loading ourselves into a rusted bus, only to be delivered to a town with different kinds of hammocks and a wider selection of ice cream.
In sympathy with the mood of the country we have ceased all diary writing, travel-book reading and cultural exploration. I have even stopped sweating. In short, we are having a lovely time.
Yesterday we went rafting. It is called white water rafting and we were made to wear helmets. It was exciting before we started it. The prospect of danger and wetness made us giddy. The overbearing enthusiasm of a sleeveless t-shirted guide was almost appropriate for what we expected we were about to experience.
Is there some saying about far away rapids being whiter? Anyway the river we were on was a case study in serenity. We floated lazily in our alarmingly coloured inflatable raft, the foolishness of helmets and lifejackets and their bright colours all the starker for the gentle, playful spinning of the boat. The enthusiasm of our guide was both indefatigable and utterly exhausting. I fell asleep on the side of the raft.
We are in a place called Luang Prabang. Like Ninh Binh, Phonm Pehn, Siem Reap, Don Det, and Vang Vieng, I find this city very pleasant to pronounce.
There are a lot of monks in this town. They are a beautiful sight, wearing gold and saffron robes with shaved heads and black umbrellas when the sun is particularly fierce.
We have come to differentiate between the monks with status and peace about them from the vast numbers of trainee teenage monks who are as likely to beckon you over and whisper seedily about some marijuana for sale as the next man.
We even met three monks haging out in a dark alley, and they looked us up and down and uttered something unprovoked. They were in fact creeps in monks clothing.
There is not much else to write - it seems to be a symptom of the particular brand of laziness we are experimenting with, and it is reputed to be considered rude here to struggle too hard against it.