This article appeared in Condé Nast Traveller, May 2021
Some places leave their mark, so much so that you find yourself longing for them years later. I had always wanted to return to Luang Prabang in Laos, with my pre-school daughter by my side. The heavy, fragrant air and quiet, temple-lined streets, packed between the muddy banks of two rivers, combine to create a bewitching effect. Wandering its dusty, forest-fringed lanes is such an escape from modern life that I finally heeded the distant call of temple bells and booked a return trip, bringing her with me.
After an exploratory skip around our colonial-style hotel, I was delighted to find that she too was entranced. She loves treasure maps, so Luang Prabang was hers, with dozens of golden temple compounds to explore. “Buddha,” she shouted triumphantly in the delicious freshness of the mornings, as she darted between blossom-laden frangipani trees spying golden statues beneath pointy roofs or up steps guarded by many-headed serpents.
This was a magical kingdom where orange-robed monks padded around jewel-encrusted temples on business of great importance. She learned to remove her shoes before sitting quietly at a Buddha’s feet and staring up into his wise eyes. Enlightenment was perhaps some way off but we achieved moderate success at least on the road to sitting still, if only for a minute.
Luang Prabang has a cosy cafe culture and our favourite haunt was Le Banneton, where we would linger under the cool of ceiling fans over organic Laotian coffee, my daughter wolfing down French pastries. For sheer beauty, Wat Xieng Thong was our must-see temple, offering a great haul of buddha “treasure” – rows of gilded statues propped up against red ochre walls that danced with colourful glass tiles.
The most pleasurable way to experience Luang Prabang however is by simply going for a stroll, spotting the smaller temple compounds amid tangles of purple bougainvillea or by following the rhythmic chanting of monks.
At Wat Choumkhong, we found a golden monkey in the garden and at Wat Xieng Muang, we watched monks restoring statues in the shade of crinkly banana trees. Wat Pa Phai was tiny but had the most gorgeous setting, surrounded by feathery tamarind trees, towering palms and spiky bromeliads.
When the sun began to sink behind forested hills on the far side of the Mekong, we ordered ice cream at rustic riverbank bars and watched barges idle past.
One afternoon we tottered courageously across the bamboo bridge that stands on spindly sticks above the Nam Khan river, for lunch at Dyen Sabai. Luang Prabang’s laidback garden restaurants are perfect for families but riverside Dyen Sabai is particularly fun, serving local specialities.
We examined exquisite tribal jewellery at the TAEC Boutique and browsed indigo-dyed blouses and patterned jackets at The Boutique by Ock Pop Tok. When we needed to cool off, our hotel, Villa Santi Hotel and Resort, drove us beyond the heritage area to its swimming pool and spa, set among lotus ponds and rice fields.
After dark, we whooped as we bounced over holes on tuk-tuk trips to the night market, where my daughter admired soft toys made from ethnic fabrics. Just opposite, the royal temple shone in the darkness, its tiered roof swooping upwards to meet the stars.
Luang Prabang had fed my daughter’s imagination.
This article first appeared in Condé Nast Traveller
