We disembarked after 32 hours in transit, achy bums, sore backs, smelling like cattle or worse. So the city of Luang Prabang was like the most lovely site, full of 19th century Parisian cafes, rattan furniture with lazy cieling fans spinning high overhead, and superb coffee with the butteriest croissants on Earth. The city is in a time warp, frozen around 1920, an UNESCO World Heritage site packed with French architecture and two dozen perfectly perserved wats more stunning than those in Thailand for their earthier colors and minute details. All this gentrified prettiness comes at a price, our hotel was $35 per night, and though it must be admitted that we looked for a place with A/C and BBC, we were continually raising eyebrows at prices - for dinners, cakes, shirts, and especially craft items - that rivaled those in Europe.
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