I sank my teeth into the red velvet cake. Correction, a red velvet cream cheese cake. Was it a French thing? I don’t know. But it was fucking beautiful. Long have I lamented that I can never get a proper cheddar cheese cake. A traditional cheesecake that is topped high with grated cheese. A true marriage of sweet and savoury. This red-velvet beauty is the closest thing I’ve ever had to my cheesy fantasy. It is also – I regret to inform – the most comforting thing about Luang Prabang.
Perhaps I’m being too harsh. Luang Prabang is splendidly laid back, crossing the road isn’t too much of a challenge and the cheap bottles of beer and riverside hostel are nothing to complain about. For me however, there’s something missing from this place that I can’t put my finger on. The lack of lattes is also fatal.
This was my coffee (and milk) this morning. It was overpoweringly sweet, and tasted almost like the hot chocolate you get at Pauls back in the U.K. When I asked for something less sweet they brought me down more or less the same thing. What on earth is this stuff? It looks like it may simply be the type of coffee you get here. I’m just struggling to believe it’s really coffee as I’m struggling to distinguish anything but the taste of chocolate.
Tiberius and I were supposed to be heading to some waterfall outside of town in the company of Verity, but after two long days of travel neither of us really felt up for it. I roamed the streets of Luang Prabang, marvelling at a young girl (about 8 or 9) who was cycling the road on a little pink bicycle with tinsel coming out of the handles. ‘Hello!’ she cried, waving at me as she cycled by, motorcycles zooming past on either side of her.
It was approaching 4pm when I received word from Caligula. He’d just flown into Luang Prabang and was heading to the hostel. I went to meet him at once. It felt like we’d been separated for a few weeks rather than just a few days.
There is no better way to catch-up with someone than over food and beer, so we went straight to get something in our bellies. We got a plate of Pad Lao each – Lao’s answer to Pad Thai – and while the waiter told us it was made for the “western palate” it was possibly the spiciest meal I’ve had on the continent so far. We washed it down with some small bottles of Beerlao. Tiberius joined us and we went back to our hostel where we could order much larger and cheaper bottles of Beerlao.
We lounged on the cushioned balcony overlooking the swimming pool and the river. Caligula filled us in on what had happened to him since we separated and we mourned the loss of Caesar. Though, we also heartily agreed between us that today marked a new beginning, a fresh start – however long or short, great or terrible this next stage might be. We toasted to our present and our future and drank many bottles of Beerlao. Tiberius told us about a monk he’d met and what the monk had taught him. Caligula told us about how he coped in Chiang Rai, and what a refreshing delight it was to get a room in a hotel all to himself. And I told them both about the delights of red velvet cream cheese cake. Caligula and Tiberius puffed on vapes, (apple and cherry), and I was pleasantly surprised when I took a hit.
The conversation picked up when we got chatting to a Dutch lady. She’d just flown-in from India. She told us many wonderful and terrifying things about India and I found myself wishing I was there more than ever. My ever-disintegrating budget also flashed before my eyes. What if I won’t have enough money? What if I never make it? I have to go! It matters more than anywhere else! I pushed the thoughts away and returned to the present, but they continued to expand and fill my conscious mind until they were impossible to shake, and as I continued to talk and drink with the others, I began to make radical changes to my future plans.
