Dhobi Ghat

On Sunday, my last full day in Mumbai, Steffi and I went to see Dhobi Ghat, the largest outdoor laundry facility in the world.

Dhobi Ghat employs over 10,000 people to systematically hand-wash and dry nearly all of the dirty clothing collected from Mumbai's hotels and hospitals.

Each day, it's estimated that the Dhobis wash over one million articles of clothing.

I had my laundry done (presumably here) on Monday, and now I'm missing a party tank. I searched the whole place for it, but it's gone. There's probably a Dhobi wearing my blue Beerlao party tank sitting out there reading this and laughing at me. I guess I'll get over it.

On Sunday night, I took a night train to Ahmedabad. I'm here visiting another GW friend, Mohit, until tonight when he flies back to the States and I take a night train to Udaipur in Rajasthan. Right now, the temperature outside is 112 degrees Fahrenheit with 50% humidity. Real comfortable. In the last two days we've mastered eating big meals and taking naps. It's quite literally too hot to do anything.

Konkan Coastline

On Thursday afternoon I decided to go back to the beach. I took a ferry from the Gateway of India to Mandawa, a bus to Alibag, and another bus even further down the Konkan Coastline to Murud, about 165 km south of Mumbai. I guess I've been spoiled by beaches lately, because the place doesn't come close to Tioman, Langkawi, or Goa. But I'll never complain about sitting on a beach.

Friday morning I took a local bus 17 km north to Kashid Beach, which was actually much nicer but swarming with Indian tourists. As the lone token foreigner on the beach I think I must have posed for something like eight photos over the course of the day. It's tough being a big Bollywood star.

Anyway, I must have drifted off for a few hours because I woke up to a setting sun and an emptying beach. I saw that it was 7:00, decided to relax for a bit and take one photo of the sunset, then pack up my things and walk to the road. But a minute before I reached the bus stop, I saw the bus toward Murud rumbling away.

I figured I'd only have to wait another 20 minutes or so. An hour later, it was getting pretty dark, and finally I saw the headlights of another bus, but it didn't even slow down, let alone stop. And I could see why - so many Indians were already wedged into the rickety little bus that my added weight might have cause the thing to stall out. So I waited. There were only three Indians at the bus stop. I asked the group, "When is the next bus?" and received some grunts in response. Another hour went by. Four buses had passed in the opposite direction and all of them had stopped. I really loathed myself for taking that picture and as a result, missing the bus. Finally, at 9:20, another crowded bus rumbled up, and I forced my way on and got wedged into the center with just one foot on the ground as the bus started moving again.

There were easily 80 people piled into a 48 seat bus that's probably twice as old as I am. I'd say it was as bad as Seoul Metro at rush hour, only on a bus with still air rumbling down an unsealed road. But I was finally headed toward Murud, and after waiting nearly two and a half hours this was enough for me.

I got back to Murud after 10 and went to the only restaurant still open for some nice Vegetable Korma. I haven't spent much time talking about food recently because it's really not an issue at all. I can basically eat all Indian food, except for the obvious exceptions like naans, chapatis, and samosas. As long as everything is made from fresh ingredients (no double cream in curries) then it's probably gluten-free. Indian food was already one of my favorites even during my Gluten Years so it's a nice blessing that I can eat well here without worry.

I was woken up this morning by a family of seven Indians knocking on the door of my room in the guesthouse. I answered and they didn't speak a word of English, but I gathered that they had booked the room for tonight (Saturday) and were trying to move there things in. At 6:30 A.M. I guess that's what I get for paying seven dollars a night for a room...a 6:30 A.M. checkout time. After sleeping for a few more hours on the beach with my baggage strung around me, I'm now back in Mumbai after a much appreciated uneventful bus ride.

Dharavi Slum Rave

Before arriving in Mumbai, I had been told by a few friends that no matter how well-traveled you are, you will still feel a bit of culture shock exploring the city. Mumbai has a startling division of wealth, with the world's most expensive home being built within a few kilometers of slums and shantytowns that house nearly 10 million people. There are cosmopolitan restaurants and gaudy clubs where the Bollywood stars play juxtaposed with the streets and alleys where the majority of the population does what it takes to survive in this mind-blowing metropolis.

After successfully making my acting debut, on Tuesday I met up with Aakif, a friend from GW who is starting a job in Mumbai, and his friend Steffi. After hanging out in Colaba for a while, we took a cab to Marine Drive, a long stretch of waterfront road that forms what is known as the 'Queen's Necklace' around Back Bay in the Arabian Sea. This was my first glance at true street life in Mumbai. A few beggars came by asking for some change, some young kids were selling flowers, while others were just wandering around high out of their minds. I have seen the documentary The Street Kids of Mumbai, so I knew about kids sniffing glue and white-out and all sorts of messed up stuff like that. But it's another thing entirely to sit a foot away from one of these children and stare into their dazed, unblinking eyes. This was the culture shock that I had heard about. A few beggars took a particular liking to Aakif, and one beggar even sort of chased us down Marine Drive before Aakif (rather diplomatically) appealed to the beggar's better nature.

With this brief introduction to street life, I really had no idea to expect yesterday when the three of us, along with Aakif's friend Akshay, paid a visit to the Dharavi Slum. The slum is one of the largest in the world, boasting a population well over one million people and exporting nearly one billion dollars worth of goods each year. It's really a sort of extremely overpopulated city-within-a-city. The entire slum, which was once mostly swampland, sits on under 2 square kilometers of land wedged between two railway lines. Things are certainly crowded, with apartments tucked into nooks and crannies down a labyrinth of narrow alleyways.

Aside from this, the residents of the slum lead relatively normal lives. When we arrived, we walked around for a few minutes and quickly realized that this was a very welcoming place with friendly residents. But there's still no way I could have predicted what happened next. Aakif heard some house music playing off in the distance, and we decided to follow our ears in search of whatever party was unfolding deeper into the slum.

All of a sudden, we found ourselves at a rave. A man from Dharavi was throwing a party to celebrate his wedding, and there was a full DJ booth set up with speakers and strobe lights. All of the kids were having the time of their lives, wildly dancing to the trance beats and laughing as they jumped around. I have seen many happy children in some fairly poverty-stricken places recently, and these slum kids have to rank pretty highly.

When we joined the rave, the kids went even crazier. A crowd of something like 50 slum residents formed around the DJ booth and our alleyway dance floor to get a closer look. The groom brought us some drinks and we began dancing. The kids excitedly posed for pictures and were fascinated to snap photos themselves.

Surreal doesn't do the scene justice. There we were, in the heart of the Dharavi slum, raving with a bunch of five-year-olds as we inadvertently crashed a wedding. Maybe a better word is simply unreal.

It just goes to show you that you have to keep an open mind at all times and ignore any preconceived notions you may have of a place or its people. Yes, there was blatant poverty in the slum, and it would be fair to say that the place is abhorrently filthy. But these things do not prevent the residents from leading perfectly content lives. It was rather fitting when later on in the night, while going for a walk nearby the Gateway of India back in Colaba, I passed this sign. True words.

Bollywood Nights

Yesterday I had my big breakthrough into the Bollywood acting world. I arrived in Mumbai on Sunday night and took a cab to Colaba Causeway to find a guesthouse. Within five seconds of paying the driver and stepping out of the taxi, an American named Guy approached me and asked if I wanted to be an extra in a Bollywood film the next day. I immediately said yes, checked into a crack-den of a hostel called Volga II, and went with Guy to Leopold's bar downstairs from Volga II where we recruited three Kiwis, Daniel, Jarod, and John, to join us on set.

The next morning a van picked us up and drove us about 45 kilometers southeast of Mumbai to Karjat, where ND Studio has a huge campus with multiple sets for filming movies and TV series. When we arrived we found out that we were not going to be in a Bollywood film but rather Episode #432 of Jhansi Ki Rani, which translates to 'Queen of Jhansi'. We were assigned roles - British soldiers during the 1800's, and put into our costumes.

I should mention now that it's about 95 degrees in Mumbai. Standing in the sun for half of the day in a thick felt overcoat sucked. But that aside, being an extra in Bollywood was awesome. The set was made to look like the Red Fort in Delhi.

We filmed four different scenes with little to no direction given in English and did about 10 takes of each scene. In every single take, I tried to do something different that would get picked up by the camera. For example, I was wearing my white G-Shock under my costume, and I was trying to have it stick out from under the sleeve of my coat whenever I cocked my musket during one take...you know, since most British soldiers in the 1800's rocked G-Shocks. I was just trying to maintain the historical accuracy. I think my favorite scene was one in which we were "directed" to run into a courtyard, look around, turn and point our muskets at an actress standing in a tower, and then run in different directions on cue. In every one of the takes for this scene, instead of just running down the pathway through the courtyard, Guy and I immediately hurdled over a row of bushes in an attempt to get some more camera time. I guess I'll have to wait and see which takes the director actually uses.

The best part about the whole day for me was the fact that we had NO idea what the script was about. The director would just tell us to do things and to act a certain way, and I have no idea what the TV series, or this episode, is about. We only filmed for about three hours during a nine-hour "work day". A lot of our time was spent in the Green Room, a name that now makes perfect sense to me.

When we were on set but not filming we were just hanging out and chatting with the stars of the show - a guy from California with minimal acting experience/talent, and a few legitimate Bollywood stars who I'd obviously never heard of. Most of the day we were just messing around with the other extras, who were all teenage Indian guys.

Things escalated pretty quickly, and I suddenly found myself in a Mexican standoff with two Indian boys. No casualties to report.

I even got to pose on a horse. Just trying to maintain historical accuracy again...19th century British soldiers were big on fake Armani shades.

I asked the director for a speaking part but he was thoroughly unimpressed with my Hindi. Oh well. At the end of the day they even paid me 500 rupee for my potentially Oscar-worthy performance. If the whole law school thing doesn't pan out, I can always just act in Bollywood.

The episode airs on Zee TV here in Mumbai at 8 PM and will be available on the internet soon after. Trust me, I'll be posting the link.

Goan Hospitality

So I thought that I had experienced Goan hospitality when I first arrived on Monday and Fernandes helped me out and treated me to a nice dinner. But after spending the last week living in Benaulim, I have a truly different understanding of what hospitality really means. I don't think I've ever had so much food cooked for me before in my life, even back in my glutenous days. Benaulim is a very small town with probably just a few thousand people, and it did no take long for me to feel like a local. I had breakfast at Strusthi's Canteen every day this week, and on my last morning there, Mamata invited me to come back into the kitchen and she showed me how to cook my favorite Indian breakfast, Masala Dosa, which is sort of like a pancake filled with potato and fried onions that you eat with your hands. Best of all, it's made from gram flour and so is entirely gluten-free.

I was staying in Lloyd's Guesthouse, run by a couple named Louis and Maria. Louis works on an oil tanker for nine months of the year while Maria stays behind to handle the business at the guesthouse. After I told her about by allergy, Maria cooked Tandoori Chicken and a Green Masala Curry for me and showed me all of the ingredients to use and whatnot. She made me so much food that I had leftovers for the next three days. If you're ever in Benaulim, stay at Lloyd's, they treated me like family for the entire time that I was there.

But the best was yet to come. On Saturday, I took a taxi about 40 kilometers inland to Sanguem, a place that I searched for in my Lonely Planet only to find that it's not even mentioned. Needless to say, not many tourists come through here. Like maybe zero. Fernandes invited me to come and meet his family and join in celebrating the Meilagres Saibinn Festival, which is a Roman Catholic ceremony for the Lady of Miracles. We first went to Fernandes' mother's house, where a huge buffet of food was set up, then to his brother's house, with another huge buffet, and finally to his cousin's house with, yes, you guessed it, a huge buffet.

I spent the whole day hanging out with Fernandes' extended family - his nieces and nephews, brothers and cousins, aunts and uncles, etc. And everyone was bending over backward to accommodate me. If I finished a plate of food, a full one was already being offered to me. By the end of the day I was comatose (from the food...not the whiskey...) and yet Fernandes still insisted on sending me home with some leftovers as well as some fresh mangoes that his mother grows herself. Again, I felt like part of the family.

In addition to being treated so royally by the locals, I was fortunate to meet some other travelers in Benaulim as well...there really weren't so many at all. I met two English girls, Rachel and Laura, who are two idiots abroad, another Englishman named Kaleem who was the first person to read and critique the beginning stages of my book, and another English girl named Pip who had not read Great Expectations even though she's named after the main character. One of the three other guests at Lloyd's was a German girl named Elisabeth, who is probably the most enlightened person I've ever encountered. We were just drinking some tea and she was telling me about her life views, and I was just listening. I don't do that very often, in fact I never shut up, but all of a sudden I was just absorbed in taking in everything and not contributing and I just felt sort of weightless. I'm not so good at describing these things so I won't even try, but I think she taught me how to meditate without intending to give a lesson. I should ask, is it normal to have out-of-body experiences that last for two-plus weeks? Should I consult a doctor or something? I can only hope they keep coming.

I tried to change my flight because I wanted to stay in Goa longer, but the electricity was out this morning and therefore none of the internet cafes were open. So I took it as an omen that I should move on anyway. I'll be back...Goa is an amazing place with some of the most delicious food I've ever eaten. If heaven is in Luang Prabang, Gluten-Free heaven might be in Goa. I've arrived in Mumbai and tomorrow I'm going to be an extra in a Bollywood film...no big deal.

Stop and Goa

How witty are my titles? Okay, not that witty. But you can tell how hard I try. Anyway, last night after I left the internet cafe there was a flash monsoon (the wet season is coming in a couple of weeks) and all of the electricity throughout Benaulim went out. Which would have been fine, if I had any idea where my guesthouse was...I had just arrived there earlier in the day, dropped off my bags, and set out, knowing that I would be able to navigate my way back as long as I could see a few landmarks. But when I say that it was pitch black out with no electricity, I mean just that. I was literally walking around in the rain, waiting for a flash of lightning so I could for a brief moment analyze my surroundings, then hurry in whatever direction looked right. By some small miracle, during one flash of lightning I recognized a sideways hanging palm-tree that I knew was nearby my guesthouse, and I made a dash for it. I arrived home soaking wet but relieved that I did not have to spend my first night in Benaulim sleeping on the beach in the rain.

Louis, the owner of the guesthouse, was understandably a bit shocked when I walked in at around 10 PM during the monsoon. He probably figured that I had drowned or something. By this point I was starving so I cooked some Paneer Tikka Masala and steamed rice by candlelight, which Louis had kindly given to me. I ate my food and took a shower in the dark and then took quite a few Valium to sleep since the electrical failure had rendered my air-conditioning obsolete. After a series of increasingly bizarre dreams (including the recurring one in which I am eating some amazing glutenous delicacy, freak out, try to spit it out, only to realize that I am dreaming and wake up), I woke up pretty early and set out to find some breakfast.
I stopped in at a little coffee shop named Strusthi's Canteen. I explained my allergy to the owner, Raju, and his wife, Mamata, who then served me some exceptionally well-brewed coffee and an Egg Dosa, which is made from gram flour and hence gluten-free. I chatted with Raju and learned that they have a 10 year old daughter for whom the restaurant is named. Such kind people...I will certainly be having my breakfast there again tomorrow.

I started to head back to the guesthouse to get my things for the beach, but ran into Raj, the owner of a store called Much More Collection who had helped to steer me in the right direction during the monsoon last night. He invited me inside and I quickly realized that he had the coolest clothing I've ever laid eyes on. I bought something like 12 things...leather sandals, a lungi which is a sort of Indian-style beach towel, several kurtias which are Indian-style shirts, a few chill-out/meditation CDs, a Goan bracelet, a swimsuit, even a T-shirt that says, "God created grass. Man created Booze. Who do you trust?" I got all of this for like $50 USD. Incredible. We hung out for about an hour listening to Shiva Moon as he told me a bit about himself...he's 29 and from Karantka, south of Goa, and we've made plans to hang out later this week. I didn't have all of the money on me at the time so he let me take my stuff and come back to pay him later on. Goans are extremely trusting - why can't the whole world be this way?

Further down the street, all of the roads were being paved, so I asked a guy named Francis what was going on. Apparently every year, they pave the roads just before the monsoon hits so as to minimize flooding. Once the monsoon hits at the beginning of next month, Goa basically shuts down until October, when tourist season starts back up again.

Because of this, I've gotten some incredible prices on everything. My guesthouse, for example, is an air-conditioned one bedroom suite with a living room, full kitchen, bathroom, and private balcony, walking distance from the beach...and I am paying roughly $17 USD per night. Are you kidding me? Maybe I will work in corporate law for 3 years and then just move here forever.

I have been seeing these four kids everywhere and they just follow me around laughing. I should probably mention that I'm one of like 15 foreigners in Benaulim at the moment since it's the end of the tourist season. But having lived in Beijing I'm used to being gawked at so I don't mind the attention. I have yet to meet an unfriendly Goan, and I seriously doubt that I will. Everyone in the streets smiles and waves to me, and some will even stop and chat if they are confident enough in their English.

And here's the proof that the cows run things on the beaches here. I tried to get one to pose with me but he wasn't too keen on it. I guess I can't have everything.

Meet New People

I think I left off somewhere during my 20 hour layover at Kuala Lumpur International Airport. As far as 20 hour layovers go, I had a fairly entertaining one. On Sunday night I made friends with a Japanese girl named Kuni, chatted with a few airport employees I'd met before - Karthic from Dunkin Donuts at LCCT, Zahara from the MiniStop convenience store where I've purchased approximately 20 liters of water, Faiz from the smoothie shop, and Kelly, the AirAsia employee who helped me out last Saturday when the 14 of us were re-attempting to fly to Vientiane. Unfortunately I didn't run into Zul or Sudirman, which would have really brought everything full circle. Is it strange that I am on a first-name basis with so many employees at KLIA? Maybe. Anyway, I slept in the same booth of the "Taste of Asia" restaurant where Sam, Brian, Cody and I had slept on Thursday night, and was shaken awake at 5 AM by the same Malaysian man. I ate some breakfast with an Indonesian businessman named Efert who let me use his phone to check my email and then gave me some travel advice for his country, so that I can start planning my next escape from America. Later, when I got in line to check in for my flight to Mumbai, I noticed that the guy in front of me, a German freelance music writer named Matthias, was (like me) also wearing a Laos party tank so of course we struck up a conversation and hung out until we had to board the flight. An airport is the best place to make friends...plain and simple.

As I was boarding, I offered to switch seats with an Indian woman so that she could sit next to her husband en route to Mumbai. I got to talking with her husband, Anbalagan, a Malaysian from Ipoh who works with the government to hand out research and development grants to foreigners working on projects in Malaysia. After I told him that my areas of interest are statistics and international law, he began to discuss with me the possibility of my coming to Malaysia on a government-sponsored six to twelve month R&D opportunity in the near future. He explained that the whole process is actually quite simple, and that the Prime Minister currently has a huge endowment and is signing off on all sorts of projects. After we exchanged emails, he went on to advise me on my travel plans for my month in India, as well as offer me as a gift his copy of "Sai Baba Charitra", a holy book for daily devotional reading, and explain to me the basics of the philosophy. Another flight, another potentially life-changing occurrence.

I arrived in Mumbai and had about three hours to kill before my domestic flight to Goa, so I left the airport to find some lunch. I walked into the first restaurant that I saw and struck up a conversation with Fernandes, who was sitting at the table next to me and putting back a few Kingfisher beers. It turned out that he was also headed to Goa, but had missed his earlier flight and was now set to depart on the same flight as me. Fernandes was born and raised in Goa but has lived in London since 1991, and is back now to sell some beach-front property that he's been holding onto for about 15 years. I invited him to join me at my table, bought him a beer and explained why I couldn't share one with him, to which he replied, "Have one of these Cuban cigars then, they're gluten-free man, trust me". Great stuff. Anyway, we walked back to the airport, had another drink, casually strolled to our boarding gate as they were making the announcement, "Final call for passengers Fernandes and Daniel"...I guess we sort of lost track of time.

On the 40-minute flight, he insisted that I accompany him to Colva, his hometown in South Goa. We hired a taxi together and he helped me to purchase an Indian SIM card, a rather arduous process that involved me making photocopies of my passport, visa, and driver's license, as well as writing my John Hancock on something like 17 different forms. You would think that I was trying to lease an apartment here or something. But once all of that was sorted, Fernandes treated me to a proper feast at a beach-side restaurant. Three hours later, I was fully stuffed with tandoori chicken, vegetable stir-fry, prawn curry, steamed rice, salad, etc. I love Indian food and it's nearly ALL gluten-free. After dinner, we had one last drink and made plans to meet up later this week once he has handled his business here in Goa.

By the time I checked into my guesthouse, it was nearly midnight. Reality set in that I hadn't slept in a bed since Friday night and had been awake for 101 of the last 120 hours, and I instantly crashed. I woke up at 8 AM and stumbled down to the beach, where a few cows were chilling like kings while thousands of Indians bathed in the shallow waters of the Arabian Sea.

Later on in the day, I attempted to retrieve the last two days of photos from my newly purchased camera in order to use them for this post, only to realize that one must FORMAT one's memory card before taking any photos if one actually wants to SAVE those photos. A belated thanks to the lady who sold me the camera for letting me know this information. So I formatted the memory card and of course it erased everything. Even when I don't lose cameras, I still lose the photos. But I'm drinking a coconut on the beach in Goa and it's 95 and sunny, so as usual, I'm not going to dwell on it.

I'm enjoying the laid back attitude here as well as the grand hospitality of my new friend Fernandes. My body absolutely despises me right now, and for good reason, so over the next few days I plan to just relax on the beach and do some reading and writing. Much love from India.

Location: Colva, Goa, India

Langkawi Weekend

After five amazing days in Vang Vieng and Luang Prabang, on Thursday, Brian, Sam, Cody and I flew to Vientiane. During the short 30 minute flight I believe that I had some sort of an epiphany. I was just reflecting on my travels so far, and after a fairly introspective experience in Laos, I realized the significance of what I am doing right now and more or less decided that I'd like to write a book. So I had this idea, and then we arrived in Vientiane with 2 hours to kill before our flight back to KL at 5:00. Brian and Cody had a rest at the airport while Sam and I took a tuk-tuk into town to explore for a bit. Immediately, we entered a schoolyard full of Laotian children who were playing with us and running around dancing and just having a blast. Then we stumbled upon a temple where a monk blessed us and gave us wristbands for good luck. Having just had my "epiphany" on the airplane, this was all kind of surreal...I once again can't properly describe the feeling I had. Anyway, we went back to the airport and flew to KL where we had a sleepover in the LCCT terminal of the airport so that we would already be there for our flight to Langkawi at 7:30 AM Friday.

We took full advantage of the duty-free shop's beverage selection and wound up sleeping in some booths at a 24 hour Asian restaurant in the airport. I was shaken awake by a Malaysian, and as I slowly recalled where I was, I looked at my watch to see that it was 5:20 AM and the restaurant was full of early morning travelers eating their breakfast. Woops. Anyway, we got to the Langkawi airport, and the Starbucks barista there may or may not have laced my coffee with something because apparently I would not shut up in the taxi on the way to AB Motel. To the extent that Cody bet me 100 ringit (33 USD) that I could not remain silent for the next 45 minutes. So I did the whole silent meditation thing for a little while and collected some easy money. For the record: silent meditation = completely underrated.

Once I could speak again, Cody, Sam and I went banana boating, where a speedboat drags you around and tries to make you capsize. Brian was feeling a bit sick so he rested in the guesthouse all day. After winning at banana boating, I went para-sailing with Sam, and the aerial views of Langkawi were pretty stunning. Unfortunately, I fail at life and once again lost my brand new digital camera that night. I really am not so good at the whole not-losing-or-breaking-my-electronics thing. Two lost cameras and a water-damaged iPod Touch in a 5 day span...that must be some sort of record. I couldn't care less about the cameras themselves, but losing so many photos and videos crushes me. All of my photos from everything that I just explained - the Laotian kids, the temple, banana boating, parasailing...just gone. I am so thankful that I backed up all of my photos from Luang Prabang, and that I was able to get a bunch of photos from Brian and Cody's cameras.

Our weekend turned out to be unforgettable. I've been on sort of natural high ever since our experience in Laos, and I guess I was just talking to everybody, because before I knew it seemed as if we had made friends with everyone on the island. We met a bunch of guys from around the world who study in KL, some local Langkawians, and loads of other travelers, all of whom were amazing. I met my twin brother from another mother, George (think about it, it makes no sense), and some of the chillest people in the world...Moe, Kudzi, Abdul, everybody. On Friday night, we all went out to Babylon, a reggae bar on the beach, and Sunba, a dance club with great house music and a live band playing as well. We were trying to have a beach party at the end of the night but everyone was pretty worn out from the long day and we just crashed after the club.

So I woke up Saturday and couldn't find my camera, which is becoming quite a familiar feeling. I spent a little bit of time searching but I quickly decided I'd rather just enjoy paradise. As always: Dopeness > Wackness. And enjoy paradise I did. We all hung out on the beach, just having a great time, telling about our lives, swimming in the Andaman, etc. At sunset we we played some beach football and although I have absolutely zero ability it was still pretty fun.

Saturday night was awesome. I know I've been saying that about basically every day lately...I'm a fan of hyperbole, leave me alone. But the whole night was just hilarious. We all piled into Moe's room before going out, everybody bought fake Ray-Bans on the way to Babylon and wore them the entire night, and eventually we all made it back to Sunba. By the time the place closed at 4 AM, we had recruited a group of 20 people to come back to AB Motel for the beach party that hadn't happened the night before. Before I knew it, it was fully light out and the 7 or 8 of us remaining were just having a great time in the sun.

George, Sam and I were the last three standing and went for some breakfast at around 9 AM, then Sam and I met Brian and Cody back at the rooms so we could head to the airport. Brian's blackberry had been stolen during the night...apparently we are all awesome at not losing things. Anyway, back at the KL airport I said goodbye to everybody as they boarded a flight for Hong Kong and then to New York. It's sad to see them go; the last two weeks have been incredible. I've been awake for 33 hours straight and I am starting to hear voices and hallucinate, but I wouldn't change a minute of the experience that I've been having. I'm about to go drop another $200 for my 4th camera in 8 days and do my best to immediately lose it. My flight to Mumbai is at 9 AM tomorrow so tonight I'm having another sleepover in the KL airport tonight...can't argue with free accommodation. I love Malaysia.

Heaven's in Luang Prabang

Let's see where I left off. We didn't go bowling last night, but instead walked around a bit and had dinner at Lao Lao Garden, which had some of the most amazing food I've had in my travels. I ate water-buffalo laap, which is a Lao specialty made with minced meat, fish sauce, lime juice, mint, and some other vegetables and herbs along with sticky rice. The restaurant also specialized in Lao BBQ, which Brian ordered. You cook a variety of meats on a grill at your table, and the juices drip down into a well around the grill where rice noodles are cooking with egg and other spices. Gluten-free gluttony.

After dinner the combined effects of tubing and sitting on a bus for 9 hours caught up with everybody and we crashed fairly early. Today, we woke up early, met up for breakfast with David and Naomi. I had a bowl of khao piak, Lao's version of rice noodle soup and very similar to Vietnamese pho. I can't get over how many gluten-free options I have in this country. But I digress. After breakfast, the six of us took a tuk-tuk about 25 kilometers out of town to the edge of the Mekong River.

Once we arrived, we then boarded a long boat to make the trip across to the Pak Ou Caves. Inside of the lower cave, Tham Ting, there are hundreds of small wooden Buddha statues and at the upper cave, Tham Theung, there is a much larger bronze Buddha. The caves themselves were a bit unimpressive, but the views of the Mekong and the longboat ride to the caves still made it a pretty good experience.

Next, our driver took us back through Luang Prabang and about 20 kilometers in the other direction toward Tat Kuang Si. After grabbing some lunch we made our way up the path towards the base of the waterfall, which is in such a beautiful area of the jungle. Immediately on arrival I felt like I was in paradise, just checking out the mist spraying up from the base of the falls and the spectacular plant-life all around us and feeling the sun shining down. And that was before we ascended the falls.

We hiked for about 30 minutes up a windy, at times muddy trail toward the top of the falls. Once we made it to the top, I distinctly remember thinking to myself, "I'm walking into heaven right now". I can't properly give a description of the top of the falls, my vocabulary just fails me. We were wading through the shallow water, overlooking the edge of the waterfall down at the valley below. We could see far out into the countryside, which is quite mountainous and basically untouched. All around us was just a tropical paradise.

So yeah, if I had to guess, at this point in my life I'd say that heaven's in Luang Prabang. Just a stunningly beautiful place. I swear I'm not getting paid by the local tourism community to write this. True words. We're going to make a second attempt at bowling tonight, then leaving Laos tomorrow. I'll say it again: I love this country.

Location: Luang Prabang, Laos