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Slow Travel

One of my goals for this 6 months is to take time to slow down, breathe, and savour the experiences. So far, so good, and this week in Luang Prabang is an exceptional exercise in slow travel. We have a main activity each day, but the rest of our time is spent wandering, exploring, tasting, and absorbing. This leads us to some unexpected things: sipping homemade whiskey with a local (hoping we would not go blind) then trying to plan a graceful escape from the situation, practicing English with kids in the market, and the feeling of almost floating from the awesome vibrations of a temple full of chanting monks.

One day we spend a couple of hours at the Kuang Si waterfalls nearby. At the entrance to the park is a conservation area for Moon Bears, which look like a really hairy version of the black bears we have at home. 


I had read reviews that the hike to the top of the waterfalls was underwhelming, but we decide to explore it anyway. It turns out to be my favorite part of the day. A really friendly guy in a very sketchy boat rows us about 15 minutes to the ‘source’ of the waterfalls. What looked like just a regular part of the stream is actually 45 meters deep – an underwater cave that is the reservoir for the roaring falls. 

We spend two (exhausting but worthwhile) hours at Big Brother Mouse, which is a free school where kids can go to practice speaking English. Not once, not twice, but three hilarious times I am asked if Rox is my older sister. I seem to think it’s funnier than she does.

Propelled by our discomfort from seeing tourists so blatantly disrespecting the Buddhist traditions, we spend a couple of hours on a tour learning from a young man who spent 2 years as a novice (young monk). He answers our list of monk and temple related questions. We now have an understanding so we don’t unintentionally do something rude or disrespectful. Speaking of the monks, I’m pleased to report that there is no longer ecstatic drumming at 4am, just a little bit of softer drumming. We think it had to do with the full moon, though have not gotten a clear answer on this one.

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Otherwise, we round out our days with a yoga class, biking in the countryside, a massage and herbal sauna, shopping the night market, and working our way through a long list of Laos foods we wanted to try. I have some food pics, but Rox has been much more consistent with this, so if you’re interested I suggest you check out her Laos food blog: www.delafrijoles.com.

It is in the same vein of slow travel that we had decided to take the ‘slow boat’ from Luang Prabang to Chiang Mai, Thailand. We are picked up by the slowest tuk tuk in Laos and delivered to the boat dock about 10kms away. There we board our long, narrow, wooden boat that will take us upstream on the mighty Mekong River to the Thai border. The seats in the boat are actually car seats. They are filled by about 80 people sleeping, daydreaming, and snacking. Check out the size of our food bag!


Over the 2 days (9-ish hours each day) we pass by remote villages, fishing nets, elephants bathing in the river, and many fires (it’s the time of year when farmers burn their crops). The nights we stop in local towns to lay our heads in rock hard $8 guesthouse beds.

On the 3rd morning we cross the border and take a long hot minibus to arrive in Chiang Mai. One day here to eat as much mango sticky rice as possible, then it will be the end of this Rock-Awn 3.0 adventure. A Rock-Off, if you will. We’re already thinking about a version 4.0!

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Laos Life

As soon as we get out of the airport in Luang Prabang, Laos it feels like we’re in Asia. I think it’s the tuk tuks and dusty roads that are missing in Vietnam. The city feels like a bustling small town nestled between the Mekong and Nam Khan rivers. There are wooden buildings and bamboo bridges to cross the river. We like it immediately.

The morning market is, as typical markets are, a wide range of colours, scents, and sights. I am surprised by many new types of produce that I’ve never seen before. 


We buy and taste a few things as we walk along, including a roasted honeycomb snack I had read about. It’s fresh off the grill and wrapped in a delicate banana leaf.


I unwrap it and as I bite into it I can feel each little waxy hexagon explode, releasing a squishy bee larvae into my mouth. Talk about a mix of textures. You would think that maybe the flavour would be ok because it’s honeycomb and honey is delicious. Imagine my surprise when it is salty like it had been marinated in some type of brine prior to the grill. Somehow I manage to swallow that mouthful and amazingly keep it down. This little delicacy wins the ‘worst food of the trip’ award. It is often used as one of the alternatives in the ‘would you rather’ game that Rox and I play. For example, would you rather eat a whole honeycomb snack or burn to death. I think you know my answer.

One afternoon we hike up the 329 steps up a hill to a stupa with great sunset views. On the way up people are selling these tiny birds in tiny bamboo cages. A sign says that you can release a bird and make a wish. Rox and I can’t bear to hear the helpless squeaking for freedom, so we each buy one and watch little Nelson and Sakura fly off into the sunset. Then we spend 10 minutes destroying the torture cages so they can’t be used again.


Luang Prabang is a Unesco-protected spot because of its 33 wats (Buddhist temples). We spend time exploring the different peaceful spaces, each a little different. At 4am and 4pm each day the monks pound out this repetitive drumming/cymbal smashing rhythm that can be heard all around town. It’s mesmerizing, though also an unexpected alarm clock with our guesthouse surrounded by 3 wats.

One of the things that I’ve been looking forward to is seeing the daily ‘Alms’ practice. Every morning at sunrise monks in various shades of orange walk through the streets while people put sticky rice and other offerings into their bowls. The monks also distribute some of the offerings to needy people along the route. It is a religious practice demonstrating humility and giving. When we walk through town we see these signs: 

One morning we wake before dawn and head to the main street with our cameras. We choose a quiet vantage point across the street from the action, make sure our flash is off, and wait. What unfolds next is one of the most disgusting displays of tourism I’ve ever seen. Vans loaded with loud tourists descend, fill the chairs and street, and proceed to put on a clinic of all of the things that the sign says not to do. It is a mob of amateur paparazzi making this religious ceremony into a circus. I feel so bad for the monks.

I just want to go back to bed, but Roxanne has a better idea. We follow the route a little way and find that off of the main street is where the respectful tourists seem to be. As we watch from there I have a brief moment of eye contact with a young monk. In that instant there are so many things that I want to say that it feels like my eyes are shouting. I’m sorry. I saw what you have to go through. We’re not all like that. I guess actions speak louder than words, so we mindfully observe the peaceful process and snap a few photos from a distance.

We have a few more days here with lots on the agenda, so stay tuned for more Rock-Awn adventures.

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The Goldilocks Town

Hue feels just right. I really enjoyed both Da Nang and Hoi An, but the former has fewer tourists and fewer sights, while the latter has too many tourists and lots of sights. The World Heritage town of Hue feels like it has the perfect balance of tourists and sights.


We took the bus there and the train back, each of which was worth the experience. The bus was one of the most interesting I’ve ever seen. I looked almost like bunk beds instead of seats. The train went over the famous Hai Van pass with dramatic views of the coastline.


We only had about a day and a half there so we packed in a lot of walking, biking, and tasting. We had some fun at the large, scrambled market area. There doesn’t seem to be much order to the place – you can buy packing tape right next to dried fruit. We could be at risk of eating a cleaning product if we weren’t careful to charade if something was edible. Rox bought some peanut butter/cilantro/thin rice paper snacks (surprisingly delicious) that we nicknamed ‘the Tide Pods’. We sat at a little food stand where the woman kept delivering different foods until we finally had to tell her to stop. What did we try? Who knows, but most of it was pretty tasty. I think I’m a pretty adventurous eater, but Rox has me beat on this one. She convinced herself to try a dish that Anthony Bordain once said contained ‘the broth that the gods were suckled on’. It contains an array of delicacies including congealed blood, tripe, pig knuckle, and more. Most of this stayed in the bowl but she said the noodles and broth were an un-celestial ok.

We spent about a half day exploring the Citadel, which contains the remains of royal residences, temples, and gardens. As we wandered the huge area there were times that we enjoyed being the only people around. As usual I took a thousand archway and doorway shots, but I’m sure you can appreciate why.

We rented bicycles and rode to a strangely popular destination: an abandoned water park. Graffiti artists have pretty much covered the place. It has an eerie feel to it. Later a local asked us if we had seen the ghost. Cue the shivers and goosebumps.

Many of you will know that back home I’m not a coffee drinker. I have a fancy coffee one or two times per month or so. In Vietnam my pendulum has swung to the opposite end, and I have found myself averaging two coffees per day. It is nearly impossible to resist the delicious Vietnamese coffee (with sweetened condensed milk) or the aforementioned egg coffee, coconut coffee, and avocado coffee. Now add another to the list: Hue’s specialty salty coffee. It tastes a bit like salted caramel and I’m sure the gods would have chosen it to suckle on instead of that weird meat dish.

Vietnam has been great, but it’s time for Rock-Awn to move on. Laos, here we come!

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Beware of the Old Ladies

Rock-Awn arrived to Hoi An with great anticipation. Both of us have read glowing reviews about this sea and riverside town. As we wander along it seems to be an underwhelming mass of scooters, tourists, and tailor shops, until we get into Old Town. Though it is a very touristy area, I can understand the charm. There are lanterns everywhere, historic Vietnamese buildings, and great street food (including a surprisingly delicious ‘Vietnamese pizza’).

As we’re checking into our hotel, the receptionist gives us some helpful tips for visiting the city, including this gem:

Receptionist: When you’re in the market area, watch out for these old ladies. They will try to get you to follow them.

Us: Okay.

Receptionist: They will be these old ladies, and once they’ve taken you to a different area of the market they’ll distract you and steal your bag.

Us: Okay.

Receptionist: You’ll know when you see them because they look really old, probably like 40 years old or so.

Us (sad faces): Okay… thanks.

Old Town is at it’s best at night when the lanterns are lit. They hang like jewelry in the streets and shops.

We enjoy some relax time in local coffee shops (hello avocado coffee!), one of which has a beautiful, frequently photographed patio area. After the 8th or 10th time of being photographed it was hard to resist the occasional photo bomb. Picture this (plus one other) zany face in a tourist’s vacation slideshow.


We make good use of our hotel bicycles to explore the rice fields and beach.


One morning we rise before the crack of dawn to take a bus trip to Mÿ Són, the ancient ruins nearby. Our early departure was not to see the sunrise as it is often foggy with humidity, but to avoid the crowds. It pays off as our group is the first to arrive. The ruins are not extensive like those that I visited in Cambodia, but it was nice to see them in the process of excavation.

Next stop is the city of Hue (pronounced ‘Hway’).

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Rock-Awn 3.0

I meet up with Roxanne in Da Nang and we easily slide back into our travel team of Rock-Awn. Our roles are fluid and shifting, but she often researches food and I often research logistics. We spend our first day catching up as we walk along the long stretch of beach. The fishermen repair their nets and prep their little round boats while women sort through buckets of tiny snails. Exhausted from walking in the sun, we spend the afternoon by the pool then set out to find a good street food dinner. Da Nang is not super touristy, so it’s nice to see street side vendors filled with Vietnamese patrons. We settle on delicious fried noodles then set off to secure a good viewing spot for one of the main attractions: the Dragon Bridge. On Saturday and Sunday nights the colour changing dragon breathes out flames and water in a spectacle that attracts both tourists and locals alike. We cycle out to the Marble Mountains, which is a grouping of 5 hills each representing a different element. The largest one has numerous caves, temples, and pagodas all over it. Each of the caves is a little different. One has some really creepy images and my favorite one is filled with magnificent sunbeams. Rox read a food blog which leads us to cycle to a obscure little restaurant at the end of an alleyway. There we eat what I am crowning ‘best meal of the trip (so far)’. This honour should not be taken lightly. Remember that I was just in India and Singapore. It’s called Bánh Xèo and there are some steps to eating it. 1. Take 1 thin rice paper and place a Vietnamese pancake onto it. Do not worry about the shell on the shrimp; it adds to the texture: 2. Load it up with cucumber, greens, and some pickled radish-type thing: 3. Scoop on some secret recipe peanut sauce (which may contain pork liver) and a mystery meat stick. Start rolling it and twist to remove the stick and leave the meat: 4. Roll it up, dip it into more special sauce, and devour it: 5. Wipe your messy hands and the drool pool that it hanging off of your chin from it being so delicious. 6. Repeat at least 3 times. We revisit it again the next day to ensure quality control and to present them with the trophy. We also enjoy trying new fruits at a local market (mangosteen for Rox and soursop for me) and sipping delicious Vietnamese coconut coffee. Moms can probably stop reading now… We have seen this Lady Buddha statue from the beach. Turns out it is the tallest one in Vietnam (67m) and is located in an area called Son Tra. We decide to grab a ‘Grab’ (the local moto-taxi) to take us out there. Let’s just say it gets my heart racing, especially when my driver passes a bus on the winding road then later when, while driving, I watch him type something into his translation app.  Want to know what he was translating? ‘Hope you have happy in Vietnam.’ I guess I am happy that we didn’t die.
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Singapore Swing

I spend 2.5 days with Raman’s family. It’s a nice time to observe the typical day to day activities in an Indian village. The family communicates with me through food, photo albums, and the occasional translation from Gagan, Raman’s brother. As is often the case when there’s a language barrier, I seem to be a step behind most of the time. For example, on my last evening I accept delicious dinner, seconds, and dessert from Raman’s Mom, then about an hour later I’m served a special meal by Auntie next door.


One day Raman’s Dad and Gagan drive me to a mountain temple. There is a huge tree, it’s branches filled with red fabric. Gagan tells me that you tie on a thread and make a wish, then when it comes true you return and untie one. He has untied 1 and tied 2 today.

Serendipitously I am leaving on the same flight as an Uncle. On the way to the airport we meet Raman and Gurvinder for a goodbye, then visit the Golden Temple in Amritsar. This is the central religious site for the Sikh faith and they feed a meal to about 1 million visitors per day. It would be a peaceful place to sit for a couple of hours.
I am immensely grateful to Raman and her family for their generosity.

After a red eye flight I arrive in Singapore. My first impression is that it is clean and modern. RobO still teases me about our time in Lima, Peru when I experienced reverse culture shock (They were walking dogs on leashes! Ermegerd!) and I can feel those same feelings bubbling up. There’s no honking, people use crosswalks, and there’s toilet paper in every bathroom. I see dogs on leashes, and raise it with people jogging on groomed riverside paths. Am I still in Asia? I’m ok with it though. It’s a nice reprieve, especially knowing I’ll be back in the chaos of Vietnam in 36 hours.

Naturally, I’m drawn to the colours and vibes of Chinatown and Little India. I pause and breathe in temples and mosques, snap photos of street art, and sample foodie paradise.


Late afternoon I settle in at Gardens by the Bay, one of the main attractions. It does not disappoint. Imagine the Bellagio Fountains meet Avatar.


People often ask me what is on our bucket list but it’s really too long and diverse to summarize. At night I check off one of the weirder items on the list: sleep in a capsule hotel. Of course, I pick the most spaceship-like one I can find. It’s really just a glorified bunk bed that’s more difficult to get into, but I like the feeling of privacy in my plastic cocoon.


Now I’m headed back to Vietnam, the central area of the country this time. Rock-Awn 3.0!

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Happily Ever After

After a day of flying, I arrive in India for my friend Raman’s wedding. Last August her parents arranged for her to marry Gurvinder and since then they have had the chance to get to know one another. Now it appears to be the best case scenario: a combo arranged/love marriage.

My driver pulls up to Raman’s family home about 10:30pm and I step into an ecstatic dance party. Raman tells me that they have had a day of ceremonies and have been dancing since 7:00. The music is so loud that my eardrums are rattling and every so often the men throw money into the air, making it rain. Raman’s friend uses a cone of henna to paint my right hand. Raman has beautifully intricate henna up to her elbows and ankles. Tradition says that the darker it is the more her mother-in-law will like her, so she’s been treating it with care.


Saturday morning the second my eyes open I’m delivered a cup of chai and plate of sweets. I could get used to this. Today is the day of ceremonies put on by the groom’s family. Raman stays at home while the rest of us don our custom dresses and have a makeup party like the ones I missed out on in high school.


We arrive bearing gifts of fruit, clothing, and sweets, then Gurvinder is ceremoniously given money by each of Raman’s family members. There’s eating, eating, and more eating, some dancing, and eating again.


A flock of Raman’s aunties have taken me under their wings and they are taking this job seriously. I am either eating or being led somewhere to fill my plate. I have made a special connection with one auntie in particular. She is deaf and non-verbal, so she has never relied on Punjabi, making it much easier and more natural for her to gesture communication with me.


With belly aches we go home. All afternoon the women sit on a bed in the living room, their legs tucked under a shared blanket. They tell Raman stories about the day and her new in-laws. She hasn’t met them yet.

Here there are no clocks, watches, or strict time schedules; a refreshing change from my time-slave western culture. In the evening, when everyone arrives the ‘Bangle Ceremony’ begins. Raman has been dreaming of wearing wedding bangles since she was 10 years old. Her mother’s brothers bless the bangles and carefully guide them onto her wrists. Here they will stay until she has her first baby, though in modern times it’s usually more like 6 weeks.

With anticipation everyone goes to bed. The house is like a big family slumber party. There are mats all over the floor and must be at least 25 people sleeping here. There is 1 bathroom. Amazingly, this does not seem to be a problem at all. Just imagine 25 people getting ready for a Canadian wedding with 1 bathroom. Here it is somehow seamless.

Remember when I said that time isn’t important here? The glaring exception is the wedding morning. At precisely 5am a parade of women wake Raman. They sing as she washes herself, then later she is swept away to the beauty parlour.

I dress in my second custom Indian gown. I start to think that maybe I don’t stand out so much; after all I have tanned skin with dark hair and eyes. One of the housekeepers says something to me in Punjabi and a cousin translates, “She says you look like a boy.” Oh, that. They likely have never seen a woman with short hair before.


We caravan to the wedding and, big surprise, we eat. Raman arrives and I cannot take my eyes off of this exquisite Indian princess. 


Gurvinder and his family are led in by a marching band. There are a series of steps and ceremonies and everything is lost in translation for me. But I don’t need to understand the words when I can feel the emotions: anticipation, excitement, joy, love.


After hours of photos, ceremonies, and eating, the energy palpably changes. It feels somber and sad. At Canadian weddings I am used to a union of 2 families, but in India it is starkly different. Raman is leaving her family to join Gurvinder’s. Her suitcases are delivered to his family and her family files through a receiving line of tear filled goodbyes.

Attending an Indian wedding is an experience that makes the highlight reel of my life. The wedding was unforgettable, but some of my favourite memories will be some of the in between times:

– Watching a man skillfully wrap 7 meters of cloth into an expert turban.

– Raman reminiscing about summer nights her family spent sleeping on the rooftop under the stars.

– A cousin walking me around the village, then the eruption of laughter from the family when he told them the things I took pictures of.

– The special presentation of toilet paper in the bathroom when I arrived (and surprisingly I was not the only one using it!).

– Raman’s Grandfather specifically finding me to gently gesture the importance of covering my head in the temple.

– The warmth and kindness I felt from Raman’s family.

Now I’m being spoiled rotten by Raman’s family for a couple more days until my flight to Singapore!

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A Spin Around Ninh Binh

After our boat cruise we took a bus south of Hanoi to Ninh Binh, which has been dubbed ‘the Ha Long Bay on land’. Here the craggy limestone mountains jut up from the rice fields and rivers. Unfortunately it was difficult to capture great photos because of the hazy weather, so you’ll have to take our word for it on how beautiful it is.

We spent our 2 days in the saddle of gear-less Vietnamese bicycles, complete with baskets. It was a flat pedal to numerous temples, pagodas, and viewpoints.

A highlight was a hike up a million stairs to a viewpoint high above the river and village.

We also visited the boating area that was featured on the Amazing Race a couple of seasons ago. The women impressively row the oars of the boats using only their feet.

Today we parked the bikes to look at a viewpoint. When we returned, RobO’s bike was surrounded by Asian women. When they spotted him, they immediately gathered around him for a paparazzi photo op. He’s pretty sure that they recognized him from his band Audrey Three. 😂

Anyone have a hankering for a goat snack?

We’re now back in Hanoi, playing frogger in the scooter traffic again. Tomorrow morning I fly to India for my friend Raman’s wedding (eek! So excited!) while RobO starts his journey to the polar vortex of Canada on Saturday.

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From out of the chaos and into the Bay

We have arrived in Vietnam and have split our first few days between two very different places. First came Hanoi, a sprawling city of action which seems chaotic at first, but later reveals some method to its madness. Later we visited Bai Tu Long Bay, a serene body of water with far less tourists than its neighbour, Ha Long Bay.

Our first morning in Hanoi left us feeling a bit more out of our comfort zone than usual. Our mediocre task of finding breakfast seemed monumental. It has been a while since either of us had such a huge language barrier between us and a morning coffee. DawnO couldn’t even rely on her Spanish to save us. Below you can see what Dawn eventually settled on for breakfast. What’s that particular dish called? She called it delicious.

The traffic was also quite difficult to get used to right off the hop. Coming from a defensive driving standpoint, when I found myself in a game of chicken with a scooter, while we were both on the sidewalk, I wasn’t quite sure how to maneuver my body. Crossing a busy street also seemed like an impossible task, as there seemed to be a sea of never ending scooters, bikes, cars, buses, and tuk tuks, blocking our way across. A common practice of scooter drivers was to have one hand on the accelerator, and the other on their cellphone.

Eventually we learned to just go with the flow and keep moving. The traffic would move to accommodate pedestrians, either on the street, or the sidewalk (aka. The parking lot).

That evening we headed to the Water Puppet Theatre, which sounds a bit odd… and it was… but it was also endearing. There were people on either side of the pool that would sing and play music, while puppets would come out and perform. I would definitely recommend going.

The next day we went to the mausoleum that houses the body of Ho Chi Minh. The line was incredibly long (we estimated at least 1km), but it was constantly moving so it wasn’t too terrible. Afterwards DawnO set out to check something off her to do list since arriving… try an egg coffee.

Originally we wanted to go to Ha Long Bay, but when we were booking a trip, we learned about Bai Tu Long Bay, which left from the same place, shared the same cool islands, but had way less boats and tourists. That was enough to get us on board. We booked a 2 day, 1 night tour and even had a fancier room with a private balcony. The tour included a cave excursion, a kayak trip, and this morning we got to view a local fishing village. It was the perfect contrast to the hectic time in Hanoi.

Yes, I know, I know… DawnO appears to be paddling a 2-man kayak without a partner. Where did he go? Did he fall in? At the time it was quite chilly so I, like many other sensible passengers, decided to stay behind where we would be dry. I did not pack myself a shawl. I did regret my decision immediately after she paddled away. She didn’t get wet at all.

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Rat Race

After our first day of temple touring we knew that we needed to change tack. We had visited the 3 most famous ones in the heat of the day with full sun washing out our photos. Plus we felt like we were being herded from place to place in a mob of other tourists. I mean, they were beautiful temples, but we knew we could have more enjoyment with a different approach.

We opted to start our day 2 in the mid afternoon for less heat, softer light, and fewer people. We also did the ‘Grand Circuit’ in the opposite way of what is typically done. Our strategy paid off: we had the chance to see the temples at our own pace, feeling the unique personality of each. We could linger in the shade, take time to look from different angles, and be more mindful of the experience.

At one point our tuktuk had trouble driving on the freshly graded road, so RobO had to help out.

There is a small temple surrounded by water.

We finished the day back at Bayon, the temple with the faces on it, in the golden light before sunset.


We took a ‘temple break’ day where we cycled out to my watermelon family, had massages, and visited a restaurant with a pool.

Then, contrary to our previous lessons, we got up really early for the obligatory sunrise at Angkor Wat experience. Tourists elbow each other as they jockey for the perfect position, intent on getting the infamous reflection photo. I heard a tourist telling off a group for ‘saving someone a spot’ in the 5th row. Another tourist may possibly find a photo-bomb of me flipping the bird as she took a gloating picture of all of the people standing behind her. The antithesis of a serene sunrise experience. Here’s the shot you’ve been waiting for:

As always we rebounded and hit our stride again, visiting 2 peaceful temples bathed in the morning light. One of my favourites was Banteay Srei, the ‘lady temple’ with it’s intricate carvings in pink stone. We timed it perfectly, leaving just as 6 tour busses unloaded.

Our final stop in Cambodia was a visit to the Apopo Centre. They are an NGO that trains rats to sniff out land mines. Sadly, there are still between 2 and 4 million live mines in Cambodia. The rats can search an area in 2 hours that would take humans about 2 days. We got to see Zila the rat do a demonstration. She and the other 28 found almost 300 land mines in 2018! If you’re really interested you can check them out on Facebook or YouTube, and you can even adopt a rat.

Tonight the adventures continue with a flight to Vietnam.