Baruch ata adonai eloheynu melech ha olam, please don't let us die on a bridge in Laos. Aaaaamen.

There are many pleasant things about the hotel at which we are staying here in Luang Prabang (LPB.) For example, its tranquil setting on the banks of the Mekong River, or the phenomenally friendly staff who are ready and willing to help us with any question or request we might have.

Less than ideal is that to get to and from the center of town, one must cross a rickety old bridge (very imaginatively called "Old Bridge") on a foot path that hangs over the side, looks straight down into the Mekong below, and has terrifyingly uneven and shaky floorboards.

We said a little prayer the first time we crossed, and have continued to do so each time since. We have yet to conclusively decide whether it's scarier to cross at night or in broad daylight. Sneaky believes that nighttime is worse, since it compounds his twin fears of heights and darkness. I tend to think it's worse during the day, because you can actually see how damn shoddy the thing is. In any event, we try to avoid it whenever possible.

Oh, Fancypants: You minxy little mountain...

Suffice it to say that climbing Fansipan was not the best outdoors experience I've ever had. I should have known when I was handed a pair of purple children's Wellies that this was not going to be a lot of fun...Information that would be have useful the previous day, before we booked.

The climb up to base camp was foggy, steep, and extremely muddy. At times, I sunk almost to my knees in mud, and was definitely thankful for the Wellies. Of course, the downside of them is that--while keeping your feet and ankles dry, clean and free of leeches (yes, a kid I met had a leech on him...gross)--the thin rubber soles are so thin that you feel every single rock, tree root, branch or bamboo stump underfoot. As I write this from a coffee shop in Hanoi two days later, my big toenails still feel bruised enough to fall off.

Also, it rained about 90% of the time, varying between a light mist and moderate showers. So that was great. All our gear was soaking wet by the time we got to base camp, and most of it did not dry overnight because it was so cold.

Base camp was two huts made of tin and bamboo. One had a fire going in it, and the porters made us a pretty impressive dinner feast of bamboo shoots and pork, fried tofu, rice, stir fried chicken, and some other delicacies. The other hut had bamboo "cots"--if you can call them that--lining both sides of the hut. The four of us (Sneaky, Fritz, Cecilia and I) staked out an area, grabbed the warmest looking sleeping bags, and basically slept on top of each other for warmth.

I used to think that I could sleep anywhere, anytime. Trains, cars, planes (usually before take-0ff, even) bars, noisy nightclubs--pretty much anywhere. I will now amend that statement by saying that it turns out that I am unable to sleep on bamboo branches up on a mountain. It is really VERY uncomfortable, and I still have some bruised on my hips and shoulders from where I tried to assume fetal position to keep warm and get comfy. I think none of us slept more than about five minutes at a time, and there was a lot of random waking up and giggling because the whole situation was just so tragically comical. Also, like true Manhattanites, Sneaky and I are both terrified of the dark, and spent a good amount of time worrying about what kind of Blair Witch might await us outside the hut if we had to pee in the middle of the night.

The next morning, after a night of next to no sleep and torrential downpours, I decided that the descent was going to be more than enough to keep me busy, and I decided against climbing the extra 300 meters to actually summit the damn thing. At this point, it was so rainy and foggy, that it was clear we wouldn't be able to see a thing from the top, so I opted to begin heading down with some Canadians who had summited the previous day.

Oh, I should mention that when we had been given the option to summit the previous day, I had said to our guides: "I think it would be better to wait until tomorrow. At least there's a chance we could see something then." To which he replied: "It rains every day this time of year." Once again, information that would have been useful yesterday.

The descent was pretty much uneventful. It continued to rain and we continued to curse the Wellies as we bruised our toes and soles on bamboo shoot stumps and rocks. All in all, it was certainly an adventure. Not one that I think I would recommend, though...

Angkor Ruins, Day #2

We woke up at 4:30 yesterday morning to catch the sun rise over Angkor Wat and I am so glad that we did! When I was here last year, we didn't get much of a sunrise at all; It was too muggy and overcast. As you can see from the photo above, this was not at all the case this time around. In fact, it was probably the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

We hired a fantastic tour guide to take us around for the day. After hitting up Angkor Wat, we saw Ta Prohm, which is especially spectacular in the early morning light. Also referred to as "Tombraider Temple," this is partially where the film was shot. The trees were left to give a feel for what the entire temple complex looked like when it was rediscovered in the mid-19th Century, but also because the structural integrity has become so dependent on the trees, that most of the temple would collapse were they to be removed. This temple is probably my favorite. In the morning mist, it looks eerily beautiful; Unlike anything else I've ever seen.

From there, we made our way to Bantay Srei, another favorite. Bantey Srei means Citadel of the Woman, and was built as a shrine to the Hindu goddess, Lakshmi. It features the most intricate

carvings of any temple in the complex, and the use of different layers of sandstone gives it natural yellow, pink, brown and red shades. The spectacular blue sky yesterday and the vividly green grass (the rainy season is just beginning here) made it absolutely perfect.

Of course, with the three of us, there is constant comedy along the way. Fritz decided to try to teach our Khmer guide some key Yiddish words. For example, to shvitz, because we were certainly doing a lot of that.


Climbing to the top of some very tall temples via extremely steep, narrow, and uneven steps was fun on the way up, but terrifying on the way down, especially for Sneaky who is afraid of heights. We had to coax him down with the promise of cold beverage.


We returned to our room at 1:00 in the afternoon, feeling like it was 5:00 p.m. It was in all likelihood one of the most productive Satudays any of us have had in a long time!