luang prabang
As the bird the flies this journey should have been a hour or so but it amounted to 8 hours of hairbends while traversing a series of mountains. Now that wasn't so bad but the presense of a horde, and I mean horde (they mainly travel in hordes), of Isrealis made the journey somewhat worse.
Firstly, they bagged as many seats as possible without actually occupying them by leaving a bottle of water on their preferred seats. Reminds me perservely of the Germans and their sun lounger infamy. Then when they decided to get on the bus, they started ordering people about into other seats so they, the Isrealis, could be together.
At the first toilet stop, I left the bus for a smoke and returned to see that someone was seating in my seat. One of them confidently told me that it was okay, my stuff was at seat so-and-so. No more of this I thought and not to me either. So I told the f*cker the get the hell out of my seat and return my things to their original spot. The polite thing would have been to ask me first. I don't like to make a scene but the manner of these people is really too much. It seems the rely on the fact that people don't wish to make a scene so that the horde can all sit together in one solidified unit. A security barrier so to speak.
My temper was clamed when I got to my guesthouse. It was beautiful, all wooden paneling and spotlessly clean. I took a room with a TV which was a pretty pointless request as I arrived at the start of a 9 hour powercut. Ah well, there's only so much BBC World re-runs I can take. So it was onto the beer.
Met an Irish bloke, 42. who sobbed about having missed out on life as he nursed his elderly parents over the past ten years. They had recently died so he decided to do a little world jaunt. I felt sorry for him at first but then he started taking lustfully about all the dough he was in for once the family home in Dublin 4 was sold. Okay now it is becoming clearer.
The next night I ended up in a drinking den (licensing hours are restricted elsewhere) with two Dutch girls and then the ejjit walks in, off his head and comes up to our table mumbling loudly about me being bank manager and some other nonsense. Embarrassing to say the least but he soon left to bore other people about.
I have probably said this before but looking at temples, etc is definitely not an attraction anymore for me, I have simply seen too many to be impressed now or even interested. Please don't misunderstand me, they're nice and all. That said, Luang Prabang was the Royal capital of Laos. So I looked at the Royal Palace and decided to leave it at that. On my way home I usually take a shortcut through another temple complex. It's generally a very quite place but I saw a top of the line Mercedes in the forecourt. I was thinking to myself that it was probably a politician or military topdog who was visiting but there was no commotion annd no one was about. And who should come around the corner and stumbled into me but old rubber lips himself, Mick Jagger. We exchanged pleasantries ( I enjoyed not asking him for an autograph) and off he went with his muscle bound bodyguard and some tall, skinning bird (probably an Italian model) who had just dreadful skin. All the heroin, eh!
Luang Prabang is a very nice spot nestled against the mighty Mekong. It is unique and deserves its reptation for being relaxed and comfortable. Many of the colonial architectural masterpieces of the French are in good order. The people are all smiley and friendly. It's such a small little town that everything is within walking distance. I enjoyed the place a lot.
Firstly, they bagged as many seats as possible without actually occupying them by leaving a bottle of water on their preferred seats. Reminds me perservely of the Germans and their sun lounger infamy. Then when they decided to get on the bus, they started ordering people about into other seats so they, the Isrealis, could be together.
At the first toilet stop, I left the bus for a smoke and returned to see that someone was seating in my seat. One of them confidently told me that it was okay, my stuff was at seat so-and-so. No more of this I thought and not to me either. So I told the f*cker the get the hell out of my seat and return my things to their original spot. The polite thing would have been to ask me first. I don't like to make a scene but the manner of these people is really too much. It seems the rely on the fact that people don't wish to make a scene so that the horde can all sit together in one solidified unit. A security barrier so to speak.
My temper was clamed when I got to my guesthouse. It was beautiful, all wooden paneling and spotlessly clean. I took a room with a TV which was a pretty pointless request as I arrived at the start of a 9 hour powercut. Ah well, there's only so much BBC World re-runs I can take. So it was onto the beer.
Met an Irish bloke, 42. who sobbed about having missed out on life as he nursed his elderly parents over the past ten years. They had recently died so he decided to do a little world jaunt. I felt sorry for him at first but then he started taking lustfully about all the dough he was in for once the family home in Dublin 4 was sold. Okay now it is becoming clearer.
The next night I ended up in a drinking den (licensing hours are restricted elsewhere) with two Dutch girls and then the ejjit walks in, off his head and comes up to our table mumbling loudly about me being bank manager and some other nonsense. Embarrassing to say the least but he soon left to bore other people about.
I have probably said this before but looking at temples, etc is definitely not an attraction anymore for me, I have simply seen too many to be impressed now or even interested. Please don't misunderstand me, they're nice and all. That said, Luang Prabang was the Royal capital of Laos. So I looked at the Royal Palace and decided to leave it at that. On my way home I usually take a shortcut through another temple complex. It's generally a very quite place but I saw a top of the line Mercedes in the forecourt. I was thinking to myself that it was probably a politician or military topdog who was visiting but there was no commotion annd no one was about. And who should come around the corner and stumbled into me but old rubber lips himself, Mick Jagger. We exchanged pleasantries ( I enjoyed not asking him for an autograph) and off he went with his muscle bound bodyguard and some tall, skinning bird (probably an Italian model) who had just dreadful skin. All the heroin, eh!
Luang Prabang is a very nice spot nestled against the mighty Mekong. It is unique and deserves its reptation for being relaxed and comfortable. Many of the colonial architectural masterpieces of the French are in good order. The people are all smiley and friendly. It's such a small little town that everything is within walking distance. I enjoyed the place a lot.
posted by Ciarán at 9:10 a.m.
2 Comments:
hello mate. how you doing? caleb
Hi honey! Mixing with the rich and famous now I see.....
Stay safe and be good!
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