In Luang Prabang, the centre consists of a hill with a temple and the main road lined with stone houses left by the French colonial rulers. An ensemble, which in its entirety is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
I follow C. through the hot streets of Jinghong, smiling. We got out of bed early today, to experience the market in full swing. Although it's just 7 o'clock, the sweat is dripping from my forehead and my spine.
The Stone Forest tears a big hole in my budget. First, I decide not to visit it at all. But meeting N. makes a trip out of the city seem possible. I decide against my initial gut feeling and am ultimately convinced by the beautiful photos. It's one of the excursions that I bitterly regret.
Holi is known as the Indian Color festival around the world, but it's much more than just a celebration of the powder that is thrown in the air on that day. Spring is welcomed and every color brings a blessing.
Over the walls and the floor I feel the vibration of the gong more than I hear the sound. The gong sounds with bells, traditional oboes and the never-ending Tibetan laryngeal song that echoes over the speakers like a rattling chainsaw.