It had rained all night. I know because I listened to it unable to get to sleep. Jet lag had caught up with me. They say it is always worse going West to East although I hope, given the fact that there is only a six hour time change, it will quickly wear off.

The monks of Luang Prabang are given alm daily as the sun rises – so there we were with several hundred other tourists and locals to pay our respects and of course take endless numbers of photographs. The monks seem oblivious to what must be an intrusion into a ceremony which is both spiritual and peaceful. They are given gifts, usually in the form of food – sticky rice seemed a popular offering although some people were giving fruit and we even saw sweets being handed out.

The early morning street market started gently enough with assorted bags of rice, less expected  were tiny bamboo caged birds who, if we purchased them, would bring us good luck if we set them free. The heart of the market though brought us face to face with products that you will never find on the shelves of your local Sainsburys. Frogs, alive and dead, cooked and uncooked. Snakes – not venimous we were assured and ours for $4 each. Rats, again cooked and uncooked as were the squirrels. Every possible part of pig conceivable including womb and then there were the  pints of buffulo blood in both liquid and jelly form (mixed with what I can only assume was a gelatine equivalent). All this before breakfast.