The day wasted no time in getting off to a bad start. It was the classic death-by-a-thousand-cuts, something that I’m no stranger to, especially given how long I traveled before. My guesthouse’s breakfast area was completely full when I went downstairs in the morning, so I had to shift around my entire morning schedule. After walking into town to get some coffee elsewhere, the strap on my sandal – which was literally on its last thread – finally broke and I had to hobble back to my guesthouse and throw them out. My booking through Agoda apparently didn’t include actual payment – the credit card was for holding the reservation only – so I was blindsided with a $100 charge and had to use up the rest of my U.S. dollars unexpectedly. When I finally had time to sit down for breakfast, I got two bites of food when my minibus unexpectedly arrived 15 minutes early and I had to leave. The minibus dropped me off at the travel station where I was ushered onto a (slow) coach, even though I had paid for a (fast) minibus. When I plopped into the only open seat, I immediately realized the seat back was broken and wouldn’t stay upright for the entire journey. Finally, the annoying Italian guy in front of me decided it was a good idea – and certainly not rude at all – to put his legs up on the back of the driver’s seat, so my view out of the front window, the only saving grace of the entire morning, was tarnished by a pair of ugly, stinky feet. Uuuggghhh.

The road to Vientiane was too winding and bumpy to read, which is what I was planning on doing, so I just watched the scenery through the front window instead. The highway was full of buses, minibuses, tractors, pickup trucks, motorcycles, motorbikes, bicycles, and pedestrians all fighting for space. Occasionally, the bus would swerve or slow down or stop completely to avoid the herds of cattle wandering on the road. At one point, we almost sideswiped an oncoming bus on a blind curve because the driver was trying to pass a guy on a motorcycle who was transporting a long farming implement while wearing an AK-47 on his back. A few minutes later, the driver had to slam on the brakes to avoid a horrible collision as a speeding minibus made an ill-advised pass in front of us on another blind curve with another bus approaching. It was ill-advised even for Southeast Asia, and that’s saying a lot!

On the bright side, the trip actually went by pretty quickly because of the entertainment outside, the aircon level was reasonable (i.e. not set to the “Arctic” setting as it usually is), the TV was mercifully turned off and not blasting loud music videos or variety shows, and we seemed to make pretty good time too. After the usual tuk-tuk shenanigans upon arriving in Vientiane, I was happily checking into my guesthouse and getting lots of good information from the incredibly pleasant employees.

After some lunch, an iced coffee, a Lao massage, and a stroll around town at sunset, I was feeling much better about the day. I made a new local friend and treated us to a big Christmas spread of Lao food: mushroom jeow, stir-fried vegetables, mushroom soup, and fish larb. The day was more than salvaged and it was great to have such pleasant company for a very unconventional Christmas dinner.

The next morning was far, far better than the previous one. After breakfast, I grabbed my camera and went to Wat Si Saket, one of the more well-known temples in the city.

After leaving the temple, I wandered town with my camera for a bit, trying to get a sense of the city’s atmosphere. Even though it was December, it was still at least 90°F, so I wrapped up my strolling before the hottest part of the day. Like Luang Prabang, Vientiane is undeniably Southeast Asian with a kiss of French influence, but definitely more of a city and less of a quiet cultural escape.

Once the day got a little too hot for me, I retired to one of the many cafes in town for some much-needed laptop time to catch up on email, blogging, and trip planning. This became my routine during my time in Vientiane: wander around with my camera for a few hours every day, but leave time in the afternoon for sitting in a cafe, drinking iced coffee and reading my book (currently: Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman). And I would always grab a sundowner at one of the bars by the night market with a view of the sun setting over the Mekong.

The next day I hired a tuk-tuk to take me to That Luang, a massive golden stupa and the most important national monument in Laos. It’s a very simple monument, as is the neighboring temple, and there’s not much to do beyond take a few photos, but both structures complement their simplicity with sheer size.

Conveniently, my new friend’s office was close by, so after my temple visit, I walked to her office and met her for an afternoon coffee. Before she went back to work, she reminded me to visit Patuxai on my way back to town, which I did once the temperature started to drop. Patuxai was originally constructed as a war monument to honor those who died in Laos’s struggle to achieve independence from France. But several decades later, the Lao monarchy was overthrown and the victors claimed Patuxai as a monument to those who died during that fight for independence. Irrespective of what the monument’s meaning should be, everyone can agree on the fact that it was built using funds and cement from the U.S. that were supposed to be used for a new airport.

History aside, the monument and surrounding grounds are pretty and the view from the top is probably the best in the city, especially in the fading light of the late afternoon.

My last full day and the following morning were filled with more of the same activities: temple hopping, wandering the streets and sois, eating, getting massages, shopping, taking photos, watching the sunset over the river, and grabbing dinner in the evenings with my friend.

After several days in Vientiane, I still couldn’t believe I was in a capital city; it felt more like a small provincial city or even a large town. Vientiane is just as laid-back as all the guidebooks say and pretty representative of Laos’s overall relaxed disposition, which is a great segue into some final thoughts.

The fact that Laos is quiet and humble is one of the reasons I never went there during my sabbatical. I didn’t see what differentiated it from the rest of Southeast Asia and couldn’t come up with a compelling reason to go. Not only is the country quiet and unassuming, it’s land-locked (so, no “real” beaches or islands), it’s Communist (so, a visa is required), and it’s surrounded by three countries (China, Vietnam, and Thailand) that attract a lot more attention and visitors. Even Laos’s description of being a Communist Southeast Asian country with French influence – something you’d think would be unique – is shared by its much more popular neighbor to the east.

But as I learned on my trip, the fact that Laos is hidden in plain sight is exactly why you should go. I experienced a level of calm and quiet that I haven’t had in a long time, and I traveled exclusively to the three most popular places in the country! If you went off the beaten path and visited the really rural parts, you could absolutely disappear. It was refreshing to be in a place that felt peaceful and detached from the frantic pace of modern life. It was charming and therapeutic and the country’s personality started to reveal itself to me before too long. While a part of me feels a little silly that I spent so much time reading and thinking and “doing nothing”, most of me knows that was exactly the right thing to do. And exactly what I needed at that point in my life. I left the country feeling energized and motivated.

And with that, my time in Vientiane and in Laos came to an end. Though it was frustrating to have “only” a week and a half – a far cry from the one-month-per-country allotment I was used to – I’m really happy I finally made it there. I’m certainly not opposed to going back and would love to see the more rural parts of the country, perhaps with a heavier dash of outdoor adventures.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t include the only reference to Laos in (American) pop culture that I have ever seen:

Murrika, amirite? After experiencing the country for myself, I can say with reasonable confidence that even Hank Hill would love Laos.

Once at the bus station, we all split into a couple mini-buses, those ubiquitous, grey, legroom-less vehicles that shuttle Westerners all over the continent. As we got onto the highway and left central Luang Prabang behind, the familiar sights of Southeast Asia presented themselves once again. The view of the countryside began to look like the view I’ve had during countless other rides through Thailand or Cambodia or Malaysia.

As promised in the guidebooks, the ride to Vang Vieng was beautiful. It partially reminded me of traveling between cities in Cambodia, but I think the more accurate comparison would be the ride between Kathmandu and Pokhara in Nepal. The highway snakes through the green mountains of the country, connecting tiny villages and hamlets and lots of small road-side houses along the way. The dozens of children holding hands while walking to or from school – on the road itself, as there was no shoulder – reminded me of Cambodia. Flying by or dodging herds of cattle, also walking on the road itself, reminded me of India.

Vang Vieng reminded me that I was in Southeast Asia. Though the nights were mercifully cool once the sun set, the days were hot and sunny (about 90°F, even in December). I was also reminded that I was in tourist Southeast Asia. The central part of the town’s haphazard arrangement of dirt and gravel roads are lined with businesses catering to travelers. Guesthouses, hostels, bars, and tour agencies comprise probably 95% of the commerce; add massage parlors and you’re probably up to 99%. There are street vendors everywhere with identical menus of sandwiches, burgers, roti, and shakes.

Though the party scene was shut down about four years ago, that aspect of the town’s culture still exists, though in very diluted concentrations: gap-year backpackers still come through for tubing and outdoor sports, bars and guesthouses still offer free breakfasts and free alcohol in an arms race of hospitality, bars show reruns of Friends or Family Guy all day long, and a few places still have signs advertising happy pizza or mushroom shakes.

Overall, it felt like a more relaxed version of Siem Reap; similarly, the town felt empty during the day since most people were off adventuring. A few travelers could be found here and there, either because they were transiting in or out of town, fighting through a hangover, or just taking a day off to relax. I spent my first morning wandering around the old temples, then spent most of the afternoon relaxing by the river, reading my book, and taking in the scenery. Vang Vieng has a quite idyllic spot on the Nam Song, overlooked by towering, beautiful limestone formations, so I was more than happy to have one chill day to take it all in.

The second day was set aside for an excursion with Green Discovery Laos that nicely covered several of the main activities in Vang Vieng: kayaking, caving, and trekking. (Zip-lining, tubing, and cycling are also popular, but there’s only so much you can do in a day.) I joined up with two couples and our guide Ting took us out for a full day of activities in the beautiful December weather.

We kayaked on the Nam Song throughout the day, stopping a few times to explore two caves, trek through the jungle a bit, stop for tea at the organic mulberry farm, and have a filling Lao lunch partially interrupted by a herd of wandering cows. I don’t have any photos or videos from the actual kayaking, but the scenery along the river is incredibly beautiful. The river itself, periodically crossed by small bamboo bridges and perpetually adorned with lush green foliage on both banks, reminded me a bit of Kerala in southern India; but the massive, green limestone karsts towering above us, reminiscent of Ha Long Bay in Vietnam, reminded me that I was indeed in Southeast Asia.

I easily hit it off with the lovely German couple who was on the tour and we ended up hanging out a lot over the next two days. Both nights, we ventured down to the lively barbecue spot on the river, popular with groups of Lao teenagers. We chatted for hours over Beerlao, grilled fish, som tam (the spiciest thing I’ve eaten in Laos, by far), morning glory, and stir-fried mushrooms. As the sun set behind the karsts, we watched motorboats zoom up and down the river while massive speakers blasted the soothing, romantic sounds of fist-pumping EDM, Lil Jon, and Big Sean. (Yup, really. Clearly I’m doing dinner parties completely wrong.) Some of the groups got rowdier than others and several of the girls ended up in the water, usually against their will. It’s certainly the most laughing and screaming I’ve heard at dinner in quite a while.

After dinner on Friday, the three of us went in search of, well, Friday night activities and found ourselves settling into a cozy table at Rasta Bar on the main street. The bar had the usual beers, sodas, and cocktails available, but I also finally tried lao-Lao (Laotian rice whiskey) which was surprisingly smooth and tasty, especially given how cheap it is: 5,000 kip (about 65 cents) per pour. However, the real moment that Friday night began was when the bartender dropped the bar’s real menu on our table.

There was nothing on the other side. That was the entire menu! I immediately realized it was going to be that kind of evening, especially considering that most of the items were no more expensive than a cocktail in San Francisco. I won’t transcribe who ordered what, but let’s just say we all had a very pleasant evening with lots of conversation, laughing, lounging, and people watching. And some of us may have had healthy hangovers the next morning, but given everything we had consumed during the course of our 9-hour evening adventure, who knows what was to blame? I assigned the tagline of “This is not a controlled experiment!” to the entire affair and I stand by that assessment.

Saturday was much more chill: a lazy lunch, hours of reading on a patio by the river, an afternoon massage, sundowners at a bar on the hill with a beautiful sunset view, dinner by the river again, and a nightcap at the Irish bar in town. I said goodbye to my new friends and the next day we went our separate ways, they heading north to Luang Prabang and me heading south to Vientiane.

Current reading: The Year Without Pants: WordPress.com and the Future of Work. I bought this book a while back specifically to read on this trip; it’s appropriate at the moment because I’m in the middle of building a website based on WordPress, I worked remotely from an exotic country only last week, and have given occasional thought to various career moves that would involve working remotely. Unfortunately, relevance doesn’t necessarily mean quality, and I don’t think the book is very good. In contrast to what I was expecting, the book is too auto-biographical, too specific about the author’s company, team, and projects, too dorky (and a little lame), too much about management, and just too boring. That said, there are a few tidbits and insights that are legitimately worthwhile, but those could have easily been captured in a blog post.

I liked it there immediately. The beautiful, hazy, green mountains are impossible to miss, the weather was cool enough that I could wear pants and a long-sleeve tee at any hour of the day and feel very comfortable, and the Lao speed of life was already discernible, even to someone who had never been there before. Once again, I was reminded about why I love coming to this part of the world in December. The weather and surroundings even reminded me a bit of my first day in Nepal, though far, far less crazy.

In fact, the only thing I really knew about Laos before researching this trip was that Lao people had been described as the most chilled-out people on the planet. I can vouch that that description is absolutely true, but I think “chilled-out” is not quite the right word, as it conjures up images of hippies in hammocks smoking joints on a beach. When I think of Luang Prabang, the words charming, quaint, calm, and relaxed come to mind. As I mentioned to a few friends after I had been in town for a couple days, I found this place to be charming AS FUCK. And yes, that is possible.

For starters, there is hardly any traffic, especially compared to the constant roar of motorbikes you’d find in any other city in Southeast Asia. There are roads, of course, but seemingly not enough vehicles. Locals are polite and not pushy at all; I can walk past tuk-tuk drivers on the sidewalk and not hear a peep from them. And the place is clean! Like, Western clean! On top of all that, it feels like there are more temples and monks per capita than anywhere else I’ve been, which absolutely adds to the quiet respect of the place.

The governments of Laos and Luang Prabang also foster this culture with certain legal restrictions. Most businesses, especially bars and clubs, shut down by 11:30 – in part because Lao people are usually awake by 6:00 in the morning – so there’s no crazy party scene. Renting motorbikes in Luang Prabang is actually kind of expensive, so it’s rare to see tourists riding anything other than bicycles. And it’s illegal in Laos for a foreigner to have sexual relations with a Lao national if they are not married, punishable by some pretty harsh fines. All in all, the culture doesn’t encourage wild behavior and as a result, the country seems to attract a like-minded demographic of tourists: also polite, quiet, and respectful. Even though the countries are neighbors, Laos feels very different than Thailand, where anything goes and almost everything is for sale.

The one exception to the good behavior of tourists is during tak bat, the morning alms ceremony that happens every day. Monks and students from the temples solemnly walk past rows of people in certain parts of town, accepting small food donations so they can eat that day. Lao people appreciate the sacrifices the monks are making and so they do their part in taking care of them; providing food is the easiest and most direct (and most obvious) way of doing so.

The procession happens before dawn, around 5:30 or so. I’ve actually been woken up every morning well before that, as the monks at the temple across the street play the massive drum and ring the bells at about 4:00. It’s quite the alarm clock!

Unfortunately, tourists now play a major participatory role in the daily ceremony, even though most of them are clearly not emotionally invested in the act. I had booked my guesthouse specifically because it was located directly across the street from a temple and from this morning ceremony, so I was planning on sitting at one of the tables, watching quietly, and respectfully taking photos from a distance. I did not realize that pretty much everyone offering alms would be a tourist – mostly Chinese tourists in their typical massive groups – and that everyone would be snapping away on their cameras only a few feet away from the monks. Also, most people still clearly have no fucking idea how to turn their camera flash off, so this somber and peaceful procession felt more like paparazzi crowding around a red carpet at a Hollywood premiere.

I’m initially tempted to blame this on the Chinese, because their large tour groups ruin fucking everything, but there were plenty of farang fucking this up too. It was disappointing all around. And the country has no real reason to change things because the event brings in lots of tourists and their money. In fact, I’ve read that when the monks tried to protest and boycott some time ago, the government told them that if they didn’t do it, it would hire actors to wear the robes and impersonate the monks. (Laos has a long history of happily accepting foreign aid, so this didn’t surprise me one bit when I read it.)

Nevertheless, I sat on my second-floor patio with my camera and watched the people below quietly buzzing around.

My initial plan when I made this itinerary was to spend the first day wandering the town and the next two days for outdoor excursions. In the late morning of the first day, I found a riverside cafe and unintentionally spent two hours mindlessly watching the gentle flow of the Mekong River, daydreaming, and sipping Lao coffee. After that, I revised my plan to spend two days wandering and one day adventuring. By the end of that first day, I had scrapped all my plans and decided to chill out for all three days. I totally got sucked into the slow pace of life really quickly. And you know what? I’m on holiday and I’m an adult, so I can do whatever the fuck I want.

When I wasn’t temple hopping or eating or getting massages, I was actually productive and inspired in various creative ways. I spent a lot of time reading, writing, taking photos, and meditating by the river. I even felt motivated to work on my personal website, a project that I had been putting off for many months. Even though I found myself in such a peaceful, lazy environment, I felt procrastination melting away.

Luang Prabang was certainly responsible for a lot of these feelings, but let’s also be frank about the real reason: I was on vacation and didn’t have to deal with work for well over two weeks.

The most important tourist site in town is Wat Xieng Thong, a temple complex near the tip of the peninsula. On the morning I went, there were many Lao and Thai tourists, including many monks who were snapping away with their own cameras. Monks, they’re just like us!

The second most important tourist site is the Royal Palace, though it’s not very royal anymore; soon after the monarchy was kicked out in 1975, the palace became a museum. The throne room was incredible gorgeous with beautiful red walls and golden everything, but surprisingly, everything else was very humble and understated, including the bedrooms, dining room, and the very small collection of cars (mostly donations from America in the 1960’s). The royal boat, used only for going to the orchard – a tidbit I loved reading on the nearby placard – looked like something I could afford.

Photography is not allowed inside the museum buildings, so I wandered the grounds with my camera instead.

That evening, I climbed Mount Phu Si, the iconic hill that rises sharply out of nowhere in the middle of town. I knew it was a popular spot for sunrise and sunset, but didn’t realize how popular; when I arrived at the top about twenty minutes before sunset, I found it completely packed and there was no place to stand to get a good view. Slightly annoyed, I wandered elsewhere on the top of the hill and ended up talking to a monk student who was sitting by the temple. Within a minute, he started telling me about his poor family in the countryside and his need to buy “books for school”, so I knew exactly where the conversation was heading. I talked to him for a little while and then obliged to his request for money. I have a feeling it might be against the rules to give monk students money, but, let’s be real here, he’s a poor monk student in a poor country; those six dollars I gave him mean a hell of a lot more to him than they do to me.

Later that evening, I went to dinner at a restaurant across the Nam Khan, the smaller of the two rivers that form the peninsula. This particular meal required crossing one of the bamboo foot bridges that are built every year during the dry season when the water levels are low. (Had I been here during the rainy season, a boat ride would have been required instead.) Dinner was excellent, but clearly the charm of this meal was crossing the small bridge illuminated by string lights.

I expected my last morning in Luang Prabang to be uneventful logistics as I went through my normal travel-day routine of getting up early, eating breakfast, packing, and reading up on my next destination. About a minute after I sat down for coffee at the cafe next door, I heard a lot of noise coming from down the street. As I looked up to see what was happening, the monks across the street started playing their drums and bells. They were playing their instruments in the same musical manner that had woken me up at 4:00 that morning, which was noticeably different than the other three mornings of my stay: more “musical”, almost danceable.

The noise I had heard was made by thousands of Lao people, dressed nicely and clearly headed to Wat Xieng Thong to make offerings. Some of them even had large, elaborate money trees that required several people to carry. The procession took about fifteen minutes to pass by and though I was annoyed at myself for not having my camera on me, I took lots of photos and videos on my phone as I scarfed down my eggs-and-potatoes baguette sandwich and coffee.

And just like that, it was time to move south to Vang Vieng. In a way, I definitely didn’t make the most of my time in Luang Prabang: no excursions, no crazy adventures, no parties, and only really a minimal amount of sightseeing. But in another way, I absolutely killed it there: I felt more creative in those 72 hours than I have in the last year, I thoroughly enjoyed lots of quiet working time at many of the French-Lao cafes, and I settled nicely into the Lao speed of life. I’m happy with all of this.

I’m also happy to add Luang Prabang to the list of cities I’ve discovered over the years that subscribe to the philosophy of being a smaller (usually second-largest) city that is more cultural, relaxed, traditional, and charming than the capital city. Others (that I’ve been to personally) include Valparaiso, Ubud, George Town, Chiang Mai, Siem Reap, Kyoto, and Pokhara.

To resurrect another aspect of my old travel blog, here’s my current reading: The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life by Mark Manson. A very good friend recommended this to me and it’s been a very helpful and relevant read for someone who just turned 35 and enjoys constant self-evaluation. Mark Manson also backpacked around the world for years before settling down, so his writing has been especially insightful for me because it’s coming from someone with a not-so-different background. On top of that, a lot of his thoughts are seemingly contrarian and counter-intuitive – as the title suggests – but actually align nicely with some of the principles of Buddhism. An appropriate read considering what countries I’m traveling to!

I’ve been working on a new personal site for quite some time now and I’m happy to announce that it’s finally live! As you can see, it’s part resume, part portfolio, and part blog. The resume and portfolio are a pretty good representation of me, but I’m still trying to figure out what I’ll be writing about. I’m sure I’ll blog about my travels, but since I’m working full-time and no longer on a sabbatical, I’ll have much less travel content than before. Maybe I’ll write about tech or San Francisco or photography. We’ll see.

Appropriately, my first few entries will be about my recent holiday in Southeast Asia, written in the style of my old blog. I feel somewhat obligated to explain why I decided to go back to Southeast Asia, considering I’ve already spent so much time there. In no particular order:

• It’s my vacation and I can do what I want, damnit!
• I wanted to do something big for my 35th birthday.
• The weather in Southeast Asia in December is perfect.
• Getting across the Pacific is expensive, but after that, everything is cheap.
• America’s excessive consumerism during the Christmas season – not to mention the two-month duration – is exhausting, so I like escaping the country for at least a little bit. I love November (Thanksgiving and my birthday), so it makes sense to leave in December.
• Donald Trump.
• I have friends in Thailand that I wanted to see.
• Southeast Asian food and massage are two of my favorite things ever.
• Let’s just say I know how to enjoy myself there.

Given that 2016 ended up being a shitty, shitty year, I was even more excited about this trip and about leaving the country.

The actual itinerary underwent a lot of iterations before it finally settled. Initially, I wanted to go to Myanmar, but after factoring in travel time and the requisite stop in Chiang Mai – clearly a requirement for any trip to Southeast Asia – it didn’t leave a lot of time to move around Myanmar, especially considering that travel there is slow. Begrudgingly, I moved Myanmar back onto my bucket list and searched for a different new place to go. Non-Bali Indonesia became a real possibility for a while, especially since I’ve wanted to check out Djakarta Warehouse Project, but the considerable extra travel time and slightly unappealing line-up diluted my enthusiasm for that plan too.

Flight prices and timing, friends’ availability, and the fact that I would be working remotely for a week eventually led to me narrowing my focus to only Thailand and northern Laos. I could get my Chiang Mai fix, have very reasonable flight times and costs, see my friends, work remotely, and spend most of the trip exploring a new country.

Well, I think that’s a good place to wrap up my first post. I’ll be breaking up the rest of the trip into smaller posts for easy digestion, especially since I’ll be adding lots of photos. Thanks for reading and welcome!