Luang Prabang is a definite visit. The second biggest town of Laos - population 26.000 - and about two streets, it is tranquillity itself. Just strolling down the main street, wondering at the European architecture, enjoying the small cafe's, restaurants, the green surroundings will make even the most stressed person forget about his worries.

The French have left their mark on the cuisine. The most delicious baguettes are sold at hawker stalls, onion soup and snails are on the menu. Filled with everything you desire, from chicken to tuna and nutella it makes for a perfect breakfast. Especially combined with the fresh fruitshakes you can get. Yumm. The first morning I choose the most enthusiastic vendor, and from there on I cannot pass her without getting recognized and invited enthusiastically to buy another sandwich. I'm not even offered the menu anymore, she just starts preparing the chicken-cheese sandwich for me. Perfect!

I have already noticed on the way here, but it is even more apparent after arrival that the people are more and more beautiful as we go north. Their faces are more round, the eyes less mongoloid, the nose narrower and the face less flattened. They look much more European save for their darker skin. Some ways they remind me of Hungarians, and who can argue about our beauty? Don't know, but the fact remains that there is something familiar about their looks and their friendliness only improves the situation. And the children. They are soooo cute. I don't think I've seen so many cute - and beautiful! - small children before.

It's just that... well, something is missing. All around me couples walk hand in hand, enjoying all the romance this town has to offer, just oozing with love. Being here just on your own does make you feel out of place, yearning for a companion, squirming every time you see yet another happy couple on the street. Am I being sentimental? Maybe. But I do feel something which wants me to leave this place - or at least occupy me fully - so as not to be reminded of being here "alone". Bleh.

So said, and done. Early the second day we rent some bikes - the manual type this time - and head out north to Pak Ou Caves, just 25km from town. As always, "you crazyyyy! it is too faaar!" is all we hear from the people. Even on the road we get pointed, laughed at, leaving the villagers wonder what these crazy foreigners do for fun. We get lost occasionally, locals point us into wrong directions because they want to help but have no idea what we are asking. But it doesn't matter. The landscape is beautifully lush green, hills surrounding the Mekong, small villages on the sides and rice fields as far as the eye can see. About halfway there the paved roads end, and we have to continue up & down steep gravel roads. Sometimes even having to get off and push the bikes; they don't have any gears.

Finally, after 2-2.5 hours we arrive. And what a disappointment! Parking fee for the bike 4.000 kip, crossing the river by water taxi 20.000 kip; entrance to cave, another 20.000 kip. And all you get is a stupid small cave with about a thousand miniature Buddha's left behind by pilgrims. Whohooo... stupid Lonely Planet, I will not trust it ever anymore. This is the second time you did this to me! I would've really been pissed off if we would've taken a tuk-tuk. The bicycle was at least a great idea so it wasn't a complete waste of time.

Yorin Travel had an episode about Laos not such a long time ago. We borrowed the brilliant idea from there to get up at five in the morning and see the monks. During the day, they are all over town, wearing their orange gowns and black umbrellas. In the ten or so wats in Luang Prabang they meditate, go to school, learn English. However, starting from 05:30 the monks start a single-file walk around the centre of town while locals offer them sticky rice. This is the only time they get to eat that day. If one makes the effort to get up in the dark, you can go and see this daily ceremony. Obviously, we had to do it. Me and Michel that is, as Remko is soundly asleep... as he is most of the time.

As we near the centre some women run up to us and shove sticky rice baskets and fruit into our hands, repeating "monk, monk!" over and over. We are so surprised by this that we take the offer automatically, holding it quizzically in my hands. Shaking the sleep from my head, and recovering I do give it back to them. They probably want money for it and I have no idea how to do the offering. It turns out later that we did the right thing. You should only participate in the ceremony if you know what you are doing, know the proper way to make the offer. And especially not pay for it. This is not a tourist attraction, but serious religious business. You can take photographs if you want, but from a respectful distance.

Every night, the main street - Thanon Sisavangvong - is transformed into a night market. Stalls are set up starting from around five and the street is closed from all traffic. Beautiful textiles, clothes, silk scarves, mural carpets, jewellery and a million small souvenirs are for sale. It is great walking under the lit tents in the cool night and just looking around. Dangerous though. After the third or so day I succumb to the temptation and stock up on some souvenirs. I hate it. My bag is already full even as it is. I left Holland with 18kgs. Shipped back home 5kgs of hiking gear in HK. And now, it's back to 20kg again. And I am not even halfway through the journey. This is going to be a disaster...