After many twists and turns, we stumbled across another restaurant on a random swamp/pond, that looked like it would be a sweet dinner spot. Unfortunately they weren't open for lunch, so we turned around and kept walking. Soon we made it to a paved road, and realized it was the road from the airport to town. So we headed in the direction of town (which is much farther than it sounds). We kept walking for awhile along the side of the road. Jesse got some random street food, but lunch was on the mind. We ended up at a random beer garden on the side of the road. Delicious food was had, although I can't remember the Lao names of the dishes.
From lunch, we kept walking towards town. Gabe stopped to get some knockoff Pocky known as Hockey Sticks. This food is probably the worst thing I have ever eaten. It was like eating stale cardboard, with a hint of fake moldy strawberries. It now occurs to me that we didn't bring any Hockey Sticks with us back to the states for you all to try :)
Well, I'm still alive, so I'll consider it a success. Jesse then spent the rest of our money at a stand, so we had to take out some more on the way back to the hotel, which was about another mile down the road. After a bit of a rest, we decided to go backtrack a bit of our first day in LP to try and find Jesse's camera. When we got to our first lunch spot, the owner called her husband, who claimed he did, in fact, have Jesse's camera.
The lady informed us that her husband would be there fairly soon. Gabe and I, ravenous as always, headed over to the market to find a donut. We did in fact find donuts. They tasted like donuts. Craving fulfilled,
The guy arrived at the restaurant soon after we got back, and it was eventually made clear that he did in fact have the camera. I tell this story not to embarass Jesse, but rather to show another example of how incredibly friendly the people were to us in Lao.
Camera in tow, we looked around for a dinner spot. We settled on an upscale, well reviewed Lao place. We were not disappointed by the food, or the Khantoke-like show. The four Khmu (I think, from Southeast Asian music class in university) musicians looked as if they could possibly be four generations of the same family. The food consisted of fresh fruit shakes, a beef stew, laab, papaya salad, and the unequivocal favorite, a pumpkin curry:
Seriously, you will not ever go hungry in Lao. Lao food is phenominal.
After dinner, we headed back to the hotel. It seemed like the trip wouldn't be complete without seeing the Alms Ceremony.
Sure enough, Jesse and I got up at the crack of dawn to witness the tradition. Unfortunately, research suggests that the tradition is more forced in recent times. The monks are required to accept the alms given to them, even if a stupid tourist should decide to give them dirt. The government has threatened to replace monks with laypeople dressed as monks if they should decide to stop. You'll also note that the picture file I borrowed from Wikitravel says "bad tourists". Tourists literally walk up to the monks and take flash pictures. It seemed kind of insulting that what was probably once a wonderful tradition has been degraded into such a spectacle. For what it's worth, we just so happened to stand at almost the same spot from where the picture was taken. It was cool to see the locals give alms, as well as the monks to hand some off to children who were clearly from lesser-off backgrounds.
Jesse was unable to convince either of us to go meet a monk at one of the temples. I wanted a nice relaxing shower before the inevitable vomit-inducing minibus ride looming before us, and was afraid we'd be unable to meet the guy. As it turned out, Jesse may have went to the wrong monestary, as he was unable to locate the guy. I think he later got an email when we were in Manila asking what happened.
But Jesse did stumble upon a wonderful French bakery, and we enjoyed a wonderful baguette along with our breakfast. It was most unfortunate that we did not stumble upon the place sooner, but hey, better late than never, right?
After breakfast, it was time to catch the shuttle to the bus terminal. I was dreading the approaching ride, although I figured the scenery would be amazing. We made it to the terminal, and ended up being relegated to the back three seats of a filled-to-capacity minibus. The saving grace was that it was a slightly newer bus, so the seats were slightly more comfortable.
Armed with 6 baguettes, 3 packages of wafers, and about a gallon of water, we set off for Phonsavan and the Plain of Jars.
I won't say much about the minibus ride beyond the fact that it was in fact vomit-inducing, but was nonstop stunning views for the entire trip. The best picture I can paint is I80 from Auburn to Reno, except the Sierras are replaced by Lao villages (and there is no snow), and you're on a terribly paved two lane highway. Jesse and I actually got to throw a frisbee around at the first rest stop. There were no rest stops the rest of the way, so at one point we just pulled over on the side of the road for a little break, if you catch my drift. At this point we were out of the mountains, and the scenery looked oddly like coming out of the mountains heading North into Central Washington. Gabe concurred on this fact as we dove into some baguette (finally being relieved of carsickness for the moment).
Our bus arrived early into Phonsavan, but I will leave off here for now.
