Back down the Mekong

and a morning of mists...

an uncertain start, last minute decision to go south rather than the sensible north...

and so, rather than the bus to oudomsay, another day of travel upon a, not quite as, slow boat...downriver to luang prabang from pakpen aa the mist clung to the hills waiting the morning sun to burn it off, a most beautiful landscape passing by, as the waters wove between rocks and sequences of rapids and small whirlpools...

and earlier than expected we arrived, a cheaper room than expected and none the worst for being peripheral to the main centre...mood quiet I remain in the riptide of my lunar madnesses, too many ghosts whisper between branches dance in shadows...but these things pass; there are the ten thousand things and they are always changing....

this feels like a time to drift, not seek...a recovery day tomorrow and then north again...or...