Silly shit...

Jumping off of a waterfall, Luang Prabang, Laos.

Hilarious British guy named Rupert and I in front of a big and gorgeous cascading waterfall, Luang Prabang, Laos.

Fast party on the slow boat down the Mekong River, Laos.

Tree pose wearing my white meditation clothes, Chiang Mai, Thailand.

With friends at a mountain temple overlooking Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Sunset after trekking, at a mountain village near Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Some worms we ate. Yep.

The kids who climbed on our backs.

A baby elephant standing next to full-grown child.

Khao Soi/Heaven.

is the name of my hotel in Luang Prabang, Laos (technically spelled "Silichit"). Laos is why I came to Southeast Asia. Laos is what I imagine the rest of Southeast Asia was like in the 70s before tourism hit full bloom, and is why people now come in droves to Thailand, Vietnam, etc. Laos is perfect, and I think I'm seeing it at a perfect time -- probably a 5-year window after the basic tourist amenities have been established but before tourism has made Laos, well, touristy. If you travel anywhere in the next 5 years, go to Laos.

Luang Prabang is the second biggest city in Laos, but it is really a tiny and charming oasis of a town with cafe-lined streets, delicious food, and friendly locals who smile, wave, and go about their daily lives, which, from the outside, appear unreasonably happy. A 10-minute drive from town and you're in the jungle with a farm here, a hut or two there, little kids playing with chickens by the side of the road who waive to you as you pass them by. Today we took a ride out to some beautiful cascading waterfalls and emerald pools we played in and jumped off trees and waterfalls into. Looking out the back of the truck on the 30-minute ride back into town was serene and pure. Incandescent green as far as the eye could see.

Last night I arrived after taking a 2-day slow boat down the Mekong River from the Thai-Laos border. The boat was uncomfortable, but the mixture of fun-loving travelers, tall Lao beers, and stunning views of the green hills/jungle and Lao fishermen made me forget about my aching body. I was/am traveling with a group of people I met on a 3-day trek through the mountains near Chiang Mai, Thailand. Led by our guide, "Johnny Walker" (his self-appointed nickname), we rode elephants across rivers with their ears flapping against our legs, hiked many hours through the jungle (including 2 hours straight up a mountain, 1 hour of it in pouring rain), stayed at a mountain village where little kids climbed our backs and we ate toasted worms (seriously -- tasted fine, like salty chips) and played songs on guitar by the campfire, , visited and swam near waterfalls, and topped it off with some white water rafting.

After we got back to Chiang Mai, we went to an awesome bar packed with Thais dancing on the tables (I joined, shirtless) with a Thai reggae band playing til the wee hours. I ate Khao Soi constantly -- it is a Chiang Mai specialty, a curry with noodles, and unbelievable. Look for it next time you eat at a Northern Thai restaurant. The next day I saw a pretty temple on a mountain overlooking the city and decided on a whim to join a few friends for a 3-day meditation retreat taught by Buddhist monks. I'd never really meditated before, so I thought I'd give it a shot. We bought white linen clothes to wear during the retreat and they brought us out to the meditation center, a peaceful and clean place 30 minutes outside Chiang Mai. The monks were calm yet cheerful, and led us through chanting and several different types of meditation (walking, sitting, lying, hand movements), and told us not to talk to each other. I never knew sitting on a cushion on a floor could be so excruciating, or that I'd have such a tough time quieting my mind. After one evening and morning of meditation I decided I wasn't ready to meditate for so long, so I left early. Baby steps for Bob. Plus, we had to say a chant before every meal saying food is to be eaten only to remove the pains of hunger from the body, not for pleasure, and I couldn't be so ascetic and remain faithful to my blog or my foodaphilia.

So I fled. And now I'm here, and can't imagine leaving.