You come to these countries, and you set out to eat local food. Beautifully, there are no McDonald's in Cambodia or Laos as far as I know. I did see a KFC in Siem Reap. In Vientiane and Luang Prabang, the closest thing to selling out and fully going western is the Scandinavian Bakery. Which unfortunately is undercutting the local places on breakfast prices.
My point though. After weeks of curry and fried rice; no matter how much love both, you start to feel like your veins are running coconut milk, palm oil, and curry. I'm sure I've gained weight no matter how much walking I've done. And still, I just want a pizza! We're definitely spoiled for choice in the west. People in developing nations can't just pop around the corner for tex-mex, brats, or Italian. Some of that exists here, but the locals can't afford it. I always wonder why travel books tell you where to get western fare. Now I know. Dare I say it? I may have overdone curry and rice.
Ok probably not.
Its christmas, and I'm spending like so many days before. Eating rice, drinking beer, and going to bed to prepare for tomorrow. Except tonight, I've finally made it far enough south to have to really contend with mosquitoes. Not a lot going on in this town, and no one really knows its Christmas, so makes it easier not to miss home. Plus, everyone has to be in their residences before midnight, and guesthouses even earlier, so that puts a damper on celebrations. Good ole communism.
While I'm on the subject, let me address the worst part of communism. Our guide to the Plain of Jars (pictures one day) was a younger guy. His favorite band? The Backstreet Boys. Communism at work my friends.