18th Day, 3rd Country

If it's possible to say you love a place you've seen only briefly, in the dark, from the windows of a plane and a taxi, then I love Luang Prabang. And I definitely love the Apsara hotel. (Room pics dutifully attached for Nan.)

I left from the Hanoi "International" Airport, which felt rather domestic. Despite gates with television screens announcing outbound flights for Hong Kong, Taipei, and Bangkok, it was a ghost-town. I spent my last few hours in downtown Hanoi visiting art galleries and doing my level best in dark sunglasses to ignore the endless "hallo, hallo" of hawkers, moto-taxis, and cyclos. In saw some lovely art--oil on canvas and lacquer at "Apricot" and "Green Palm", both not far from my hotel. I then ascended to "Highlands Coffee" (the Starbuck's of Vietnam) for a coffee-slush drink, as much for the cool-down as for the caffeine. It offers nice views of the lake, but without AC, it wasn't the cool slurpy experience of my fantasy. I shuffled exhausted, hot and dripping with sweat back to the hotel, collected my bags, and actually did the head-dropping nod-off on the way here. (I dreamed of beautiful Sapa and have already decided I want to go back to climb Mt. Fansipan, Vietnam's highest!)

The first thing I noticed about Luang Prabang was from the plane as we descended. It looked eerily dark. No highways, few streetlights, an pale orange-yellow glow on small streets with almost no traffic, just a moving light here and there. After the chaotic traffic of Vietnam, I felt like I was landing on another planet.

I followed the NYTimes article on Luang Prabang and made sure to get a seat in the front for the dash to the Visa desk, where a long line was promised to form. Great, row three...but...er...we boarded and deboarded...from the BACK of the plane. Grrrrr..... But I did mange somehow to beat the crowd anyway, where I quickly became the cause of a bottleneck. No passport-sized photo (so unlike me to be unprepared in this most egregious way!). It didn't really matter. I paid $1 to have one taken. But then they never took the photo. :-/ I needed $35 and had no US money--again, egregiously and inexplicably unprepared, but I did try to get US currency in Hanoi and couldn't. After a bit of digging through various zippered pockets I found--yes, exactly $35 in addition to the $1 I'd already coughed up for the non-photo. Then the problem was that they didn't like my fiver. It was missing approximately a 1/32 of an inch off one corner (or it might just have been a bit frayed). Plainly useless currency! Rejected! But I have no other. Consultation with other officers and a superior ensued. Okay, they would atake it, but I also had to cough up another $1 for their "overtime" fee for flights arriving after 5:30. When I say this airport and entire passenger processing system was rinky-dink, I give it more credit than it deserves. I eventually persuaded them ti accept Vietnamese currency, but they demanded 40,000 for a dollar and I knew that was too much. Dealing with such a large number I spaced out the fact that I was then arguing over about 50 cents! But it was also the principle, coupled with the fact that I really couldn't hear what they were saying to me. It seemed they were making it all it up as they went along. It was actually a bit funny and I was laughing as this unfolded. Eventually, the man behind me, exasperated, handed me a dollar to cover the "overtime" fee. I was sent along to the next desk where I retrieved my passport with a visa duly entered and sent along again to the customs window. Following the instructions to the letter, I had to declare that I was bringing in more than $50 worth of goods acquired from out of the country. (CraftLink!) I considered fudging it, afraid of red tape for a few souvenier trinkets, but it is, after all, Laos, and I'd heard first-hand horror stories from a woman in Sapa about Loas officials. Nevermind that the customs form emphasized, in italic letters, that carrying drugs would result in the death penalty. Not that I had any drugs, of course, but it made clear that these folks don't fool around. So I declared my trinkets and prepared to go to the "Items to Declare" door. It was closed and locked and dark. After 5:30, dontcha know. No overtime pay for customs workers, it seems. The money exchange was also closed for the day. I was glad I had a car meeting me with a sign "Mrs. Janice Caylor."

Riding in the taxi, I was again struck by the sparse traffic. A car, a bike, a motorcycle, another bike. It was like Mayberry, softly lit by an occasional dull street lamp. And quiet. No horn honking, no aggressive driving. Calm, slow-paced. Monks floating by on the sidewalks in bright, billowing orange robes.

The Apsara is great. Lovely contemporary, stylish reception and rooms. The entire place was overhauled in accordance with the World Heritage standards. My room is gorgeous--quality dark wood furniture and floors, glass Buddha statues, blue silk curtains and bed coverings, colonial style window shutters and a balcony overlooking the river. (Can't see the view until morning. NB: breakfast served from 7 until...LUNCHTIME!) Spacious bathroom with terra-cotta tiles, lots of hot water and excellent water pressure from a REAL shower head, none of this sink-style sprayer stuff like in Vietnam and Cambodia. Showered, exhausted and in a king-sized bed soft sheets and comforter and enormous smushy pillows. This. Feels. Good. And was much-needed, I might add. Can't wait for morning, and my first day in Luang Prabang.