To Market We Go

Hello from Luang Probang, Laos where we have a day off from our bicycling trip to Hanoi.  So far, the ride has been beautiful but difficult.  Now I know why they call them the Laotian Alps.  Aha! 

When we travel, I love to do what the locals do and not necessarily the touristy things.  So, I was thrilled when our bicycle guide offered to take me to the morning market where the locals shop.  Our guide, Chit, is from this town, and so, he knows the market very well.

Enjoy the photos, but I must warn you.  There is a “yuck factor” here, and I am saving it for the end.  Let’s just say they eat E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

The ladies selling their produce  group similar and coordinating colors together to attract the buyers.  Look at those lively colors.

These foods each had a purple hue.

 

These greens and herbs were so fragrant.  The cilantro, which they use in fresh spring rolls, smelled especially good.

These limes were so beautiful.  Even the yellow ones are limes.

Here they have rice noodles in shades of white displayed together.

 

I couldn’t resist another shot of the reds.

 

 

 

 


 

 

Okay.  Get ready for the yuck factor.

 

 


 

 

 

 

We’ll ease into it with this coagulated cow’s blood that they consume.

 

 

They eat everything but the moo.

 

 

 

 

 

Look at  this little guy.  He is trying to get away, but he is tied to his buddies in a bucket.  I wanted to set him free, but the lady was giving me the look.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little rats that don’t get away end up like this.  Anyone hungry for some dried rat dip?

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

The dried rats were displayed beside the python meat.  It was so round and big.  I sure hope I don’t come face to face with one of these guys on my bicycle trip.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Deep-fried chicken heads were a big hit for the shoppers.

 

 

 

 

 

I couldn’t leave on such a down note, so I thought this little lady who was sitting with her mother would put a positive spin back into this entry.  Her hairstyle reminded me of Fred and Wilma Flintstone’s daughter, Pebbles.