I met Seth in Luang Prabang, Laos. We teamed up to travel but he got food poisoning just as we were set to join three backpackers going up river. While Seth recuperated we made our way by fan tail boat, Lao Army truck, by foot, assorted civilian vehicles, having many adventures, a few close calls, never knowing where we would stay until we got there. After getting close to the Chinese border I flew back to Vientiane on a large French bi-plane. It had a true double set of wings, a roaring engine, and a large wood propeller. There were no seats inside. The Lao sat on their baggage and puked into little plastic baggies minutes after the plane took off from the dirt airstrip. I sat by the door, which was held shut by a sliding bolt. We flew low, chopper altitude, the jungle quite visible beneath us. Maybe that's why it reminded me of a CA.

As planned I met up with Seth in Hanoi at one of the Hotel Especen's. It might have been Number 6. Nice looking on the outside but a concrete bunker for a room. At least it was air conditioned. Seth was fine. A Red Cross doctor had helped him out. We decided to visit Sapa. After a long, hot, crowded, slow chugging train ride, where the Vietnamese, as is their custom, spat, coughed, ate, periodically checked their ducks, chickens, what have you, we rolled into Lao Cai and soon hailed two cowboys on bright and growling Kawasaki's. They smiled, we jumped on, held tight, and off they sped to the police station, taking the turns low and fast. We paid five bucks each to the cops, who illegally extended our passports visas. Then returned to the train station and caught a dollar bus to Sapa. The higher we went, the colder it got.
 

Photo Marc Levy)
I photographed these H'mong girls in a small market not frequented by tourists. The marks on their foreheads may be from moxibustion or another form of traditional medicine.