Luang Phabang Photographs
The bus from Vang Vieng breaks down, by G:
G sitting by the highway, by A:
A rides her bike on Setthathirat Rd, by G:
From our guesthouse restaurant, on the Mekong, by A:
A with a lassi, by G:
Down on the river, by G:
G standing in the Mekong, by A:
The jungle bird, by G:
Chickens threatening to jump, by A:
G with sticky rice and fried river moss, by A:
G in two modes at Ban Vat Sene (a posh cafe), by A:
Our finest dining experience of the whole trip, the Elephant Brasserie, by A & G:
Night market, by A:
G sitting by the highway, by A:
A rides her bike on Setthathirat Rd, by G:
From our guesthouse restaurant, on the Mekong, by A:
A with a lassi, by G:
Down on the river, by G:
G standing in the Mekong, by A:
The jungle bird, by G:
Chickens threatening to jump, by A:
G with sticky rice and fried river moss, by A:
G in two modes at Ban Vat Sene (a posh cafe), by A:
Our finest dining experience of the whole trip, the Elephant Brasserie, by A & G:
Night market, by A:
posted by Gabriel Leigh at 7:52 PM
4 Comments:
The Bus from Vang Vieng Breaks Down: Judging by that photograph of the bus's engine, it looks like a problem with the oil pump. It's probably not getting enough oil from the crankcase to send to the main bearings. Try shoring up any hairline cracks in the pump with chewing gum or Play-Doh (didn't you guys take some from Joe precisely for these long bus trips?). If that doesn't work, post another photo (this time closer up please) and I'll re-access and inform.
G Sitting By the Highway: I guess you didn't get my repair instructions yet.
A Rides Her Bike: Cute bike. Are those giant peas-in-the-pod trees in the background?
From Our Guesthouse: Lazy River.
A With a Lassi: A sip but still no smile.
Down on the River: Can something by tropical and lunar at the same time?
G Standing in the Mekong: Where are the right-footed toes?
The Jungle Bird: (in captivity). What did he say?
Chickens Threatening to Jump: A rooster and a plucked duck. Can they fly?
G With Sticky Rice and Fried River Moss: What an expression G. wears! Perplexed? Repulsed? Sad, Sad, Sad? What does it mean? A hungry baby bird. An alien observing vainglorious human activity.
G in Two Modes: I guess things turned out okay.
Finest Dining: It looks clean and efficient. Was it? More sartorial elegance from Aubrie. How's the foot, by the way?
Night Market: Is that a sideways peace sign?
Thanks for the great photographs. Love, Randy
Gabriel and Aubrie, honto ni domo arigato gozaimasu! Totemo sutekinna shasshin ippai me ni haita, okagesama de. U2 are blowing my mind ... what's left of it, anyway. (As does BWL in his flights of prose-poetry.) How nourishing this pocket of the Blogosphere!Thank you for answering the Emirates Airlines query. Might I pose a further two: 1) Whence this blog's moniker, Bombay Hog? And 2) Though it goes without saying that taking photographs as excellent as the ones U2 are posting is hardly a function of the hardware, could you refresh me as to the maker, model, and year of manufacture of your digital camera? If memory serves, it is a palm-size Konica/Minolta with a Leica lens. The lighting in many of these photos is superb.
Good luck with the next leg of your Journey.
There is one Dharma, not many.John E.
Wait a sec, it wasn't a Konica/Minolta, it was a Kyocera/Contax, right? --John E.
Hi Guys, it’s Steve—Sorry for having not written this whole time, but I am sure that if you’ve been tracking hits you already know that I’ve been faithfully following your adventures. Of the last set of pictures you just posted, Aubrie in the monastery shadows and Gabe w/ stick rice and mossing the fried river were definitely my favorite.
Things in Chicago have been good and okay. It’s winter, so it shouldn’t be surprising, I guess. It has been an at times uncomfortable transition to not taking classes anymore. The low was probably when I had to design the website for our Center (which you can see at http://pricetheory.uchicago.edu), those moments doing html code when I wonder why the fuck I’m not in graduate school moving ahead at full steam. Then there are real projects that come up that are really excellent. So, it’s been some up, some down. It’s been cold, but without much snow. As my Mexican roommates would say, “Mucho pedo para cagar aguado” (a lot of farts for a watery shit).
Speaking of Spanish, I talked to Randy a couple weeks ago, though unfortunately it was completely by accident. A friend of mine named Rick had asked me to call this hostel he was looking to go to in the Dominican Republic for him, since he didn’t speak Spanish, they didn’t speak English, and he needed to make a reservation (he found it online, I guess). So in the process of making reservations, they needed my friend’s phone number, to which I scrolled in my phone. After making the reservations, I dialed the number to let Rick know everything was taken care of, only to get Randy, the next name in my phonebook. Though Randy was more than happy to go to the Dominican Republic on my friend’s credit card (since the reservation was now linked to his phone), Rick did not oblige. He didn’t buy my argument that it was socially optimal since Randy would enjoy the Dominican Republic more than he would, and his credit card company would reimburse him for the expenses anyway.
Let’s see, other than that, I had two back-to-back incidents today that I think you would appreciate. First, I got these really nice Brooks Brothers’ suits from my uncle after he grew out of them, and they fit me pretty well. So, I went down to Brooks Brothers’ downtown to have them tailored (tough life, eh?). The tailor in the store was a short forty-something man with a measuring tape draped over his shoulder and effeminate mannerisms. He took one look at the suits, and said, “Oh, these are classic suits, did you inherit them?” I told him I did (inherit=hand-me-down, no?). “Yes, well, they still smell a bit of moth balls. Please have them dry-cleaned before you bring them back.” And with that, he handed me back the suits and showed me the door. Practically thrown out of Brooks Brothers! I didn’t know what to say. “Uh, is there any particular dry cleaner you recommend?” There wasn’t. He said their head tailor is in on Wednesday and Saturday, so that would be the best time to return. Even though it was Wednesday, I was too embarrassed to say anything, and left.
I had my revenge on my way home (though on another person. Sort of like that Kevin Spacey movie with the kid from Sixth Sense, except in a way that makes the world what it is. I guess I do my part). I was approaching an intersection with a red light, and a pedestrian stepping out into the crosswalk. 50 something white guy, probably lives in my building. He had the right of way, and I slowed down, though I was still 25 yards away. The guy stops in the middle of the crosswalk, staring down my car as I approach. I mean I was slowing down, I wasn’t going to hit him or anything, but I was far enough away that if he had just kept walking, there would have been no problem. But he had to assert himself in the crosswalk. I stopped, and he continued walking. Then, as I inched forward to turn right, I can see that he’s yelling at me as he’s walking. I stopped, and rolled down the window, deftly rolling down the rear one before realizing I was pressing the wrong button. “I’m sorry, did you have something to say?” The guy goes off on me, wild eyes and shaggy hair. Well, I’ve got shaggy hair, and I can act crazy too. “I’ve got right on red, what’s your problem?” He points to the sign, and screams, “NO TURN ON RED WHEN PEDESTRIANS PRESENT!” At this point, he’s now approaching the car. “Well, if you’re a pedestrian, what the fuck are you doing standing in the middle of the cross walk? If you’re not walking, then you’re not a pedestrian!” He lunges toward the car, and I realize the conversation’s probably over, so I finish making my turn.
Alright, I’ve got to head to bed. Aubrie, I hope your foot feels better. I think I have a stress fracture in my foot. It was swollen for a while, though it didn’t hurt. So I stopped running for six weeks, and when I ran this past weekend, the swelling came back, so who knows? I’ll be going to Paris soon to visit Lelia, and hopefully take advantage of Socialized medicine. Definitely not paying American prices.
Be safe. And let me know if you see any hot digital cameras if you go back to Japan.
Steve
Post a Comment
<< Home