Laos

I crossed into Laos by slowboat: two days drifting down the Mekong from northern Thailand, past jungle hills, water buffalo, and small riverside villages that looked unchanged for decades. By the time I arrived, the world had already quieted.

In Luang Prabang - without a doubt the most beautiful town in Southeast Asia - monks walk barefoot through the morning mist, and the scent of lemongrass rises from the kitchens. The Mekong kept drifting, unbothered, like time didn’t matter much.

But Laos carries weight. During the Vietnam War, more bombs were dropped here than anywhere else on earth - and reminders are everywhere, from unexploded ordnance in the countryside to craters that still scar the land. People talk about it calmly, with a kind of quiet strength. Laos is not for those who need constant stimulation. It’s for those who want to feel again what it’s like to just be.