Back to Bangkok

 

January 13, 2023. Phonosavan Laos

… let’s see … where did I leave off? Oh, ya ! Grub.

Craters Restaurant looked interesting. Six huge unexploded, and I hope/presume disarmed, sit on the front steps beckoning travelers in for a bite. Based on the name, you might thing that it is not a place for authentic Lao food, and based on the menu I think you are right. It was heavily weighted to Western comfort food. Burgers, pizza and fries. There were Lao dishes on the menu,, but I think they were there only as an after thought. I ordered my standby unknown foreign restaurant meal, a Club Sandwich. You never know what you’ll get. You are pretty well assured of three pieces of bread and some meat, after that it’s a crap shoot. Sometimes ham, some times bacon, once a whole egg, once the fries were in the sandwich. Craters Club, wasn't too bad, bacon and lettuce and cucumber, no tomato though. The fries were okay, though I did pass on putting Ketchup on the fries. The squeeze bottle looked like it was last squeezed pre COVID.

How was it? In the words of my friend Donald, “It didn’t make me sick” (now there was that Club Sandwich in Cuzco, Peru ……..)

Back to the room an a little Netflix and some Apple TV.

The next day was a day of waiting. Flight was in the early afternoon and not really enough time to go sightseeing or walking around. There was an old Hell’s Angel wannabe who seemed to know his way around the place. I had mooched a cigarette from him the previous day (I did offer and fully intend to pay, really!!), he passed me and offered me one today. I had intended on writing this, but mooched cigarettes come with a price. Conversation.

He was the Australian husband to the Lao hotel manager. He was a mining driller and worked six weeks on and six weeks off, blasting the earth into smaller pieces hoping to find precious or at least useful metal ores. He was back in Lao for another couple of weeks, before returning to Australia, or Mongolia, or ?? Where they wanted him next.

Apparently Australia, or at least his Australia is not very ‘Woke’ yet. I heard things said about the Aborigines that I had heard from deep Southerners 50 yeas ago. I was shocked that people still talked this way, much less thought this way.

The hotel provided a ride to the airport, and I think the driver was expecting a taxi fare sized tip and not a hotel driver tip. I think the word of American tipping has gotten here, even though Lonely Planet says it hasn’t.

By the way, the airport terminal is actually as large as a big 7-11 not a McDonald’s. The puddle jumper 20 minute airplane arrived and landed safely in Vientiane and I didn't tell the passenger in front of me to put their seat back in the upright position.

Out of the plane and into the maw of the taxi gauntlet. I guess seven USD is the fixed rate to hotel. I needed to go to two hotels, the old sewer smelling one and the new hope that there would be a more pleasant odor at the Crown Plaza. This threw off the flat rate and moved it to eleven, I said ten and deal was struck. I handed the taxi wrangler a twenty and there was the most minute nick in the twenty and so it was rejected. I $8, in a five and three ones. That didn’t add up to ten regardless of who’s math you were using. Fumbling around in my Kangaroo pockets I did find enough Kip to pay for the ride.

I got bags from hotel number 1 where they man took my Pawn ticket and returned with my bags in a little bit, with expectant waiting as I got in the taxi. Yes, tipping like COVID has arrived.

The hotel check in went well. The room was nice, with one of those open bathrooms where you can lay in bed and watch your partner shower. I don’t know if this is a new trend in hotel rooms or a Southwest Asia thing.

There was a restaurant that sounded really good on paper in the property. Since I tried the hotel’s online reservation system and kept being old there were no seats available. I wandered down just to make sure, Club Sandwiches two day’s in a row didn’t feel right. It was around 5pm and the place was dead empty. Nobody at the check-in desk, the seating area as I was about to enter the kitchen I did find a somebody. I asked if they had room tonight? Of course ! So much for believing the internet.

I had a glass of wine and a lobster salad, and a beet carpaccio. I have two favorite meals, but I can’t remember a single dish that I’d call a favorite. The Lobster salad was good, but the Beet Carpaccio was outstanding. The flavors of the beets, with a little heat, a couple types of cheeses and some puff balls of something deep fried is a dish that I will think bout and judge others by.

In the morning it was more waiting. (Now the 14^th) for a plane ride to Bangkok. Taxi prices hadn’t changed. Airport check in hadn’t changed, nor Immigration, nor, nor nor. The plane took off and landed safely. Immigration let me in and my luggage was waiting for me.

The hotel at the airport where I had stayed on arriving back in December had an easy check in. I am not sure it I offended the clerk or something, but the room could not be further from the elevators, and is a bit of a walk.

I came down for a drink. But it on my room and went to give the server a tip. She couldn’t break a US five so I went to the front desk to change it. Unacceptable, it was wrinkled, not crisp. I guess they only take ironed bills here and they probably charge to iron the cash.

It’s time to go home. Little things are beginning to bug me more than is warranted.

Up at 4am, to get to the check in by 5 and on the plane at 8am for twenty something hours of fun in the skies and airports across date lines and time zones..