Due to circumstances both uninteresting and wordy, we left our little guesthouse in Luang Prabang on Monday.
(This is how far I was in War and Peace on Sunday. Now I am on page 591.)
I was a little sad to go.
We boarded the overnight express bus at 5 pm. It was so crowded, passengers sat on plastic stools in the aisle. There were many crying children, none wearing pants. At one point, a mother held her baby out the window to poop. This was quite amazing considering it was incredibly cold. And inside there was no heat. Our toes went numb.
This is what our neighbors did to keep warm.
One man held a huge wooden instrument in his lap. When we stopped, he stuck the horn out the window; it made soft, mournful sounds. It would've been eerily mystical, if I hadn't been so cranky.
We broke down twice.
Then there was a border to cross and more buses to board.
And finally, finally, we arrived...
back in Chiang Mai! A place where I am temporarily at home.
(A note about the camera: please excuse the poor quality of the photos. I can only photograph inside and at night, as this is when the camera behaves. So sorry!)