Hot. That’s what today was; I don’t need to ask you to describe it for me. It is a dry heat here in Vientiane, which is probably a good thing since it’s preparing us for India. Even then, it’s hotter in India than here, which is not a good sign for us. Today was as follows:

Cool- in the 70s: This morning we got up at a more respectable time- 7:00- and had breakfast at 8 o’clock at Cafe d’Croissant. We had the Viking Breakfasts, which consisted of five small slices of fruit (three of watermelon and two of pineapple), three pieces of toast, butter, jam, and shredded cheese. It also came with hot coffee or tea, but Ethan and I opted for the mochas. Dad accepted his water as it was, but Mom was brave enough to order the black coffee that came with the meal. Ethan and Dad ordered baguettes instead of the toast, but the former received the toast (against his wishes, of course!). There was also a dog who hung around us the whole meal, most likely waiting for a handout (which he did not receive).

Warmer- in the upper 70s: A short jumbo (like a tuk-tuk, only bigger) ride away were two wats and a golden stupa. The wats were both museums and were across the street from each other. The first one- Haw Phra Kaew- used to hold the emerald Buddha, but when the Siams invaded, they stole it. It’s currently in Wat Phra Kaew in Bangkok. The second one, Wat Si Saket, contains at least 10,000 Buddha figures. It is the oldest temple in Vientiane at the ancient age of 194 years. The current version was built in 1818 by King Anouvong. It was built in the Siamese style of Buddhist temple, which could have been what saved it from destruction in 1827 when Siam invaded Vientiane. The invaders used the wat as their headquarters and named it after Wat Saket, which is in Bangkok. The French restored the temple in 1924. We only had fifteen minutes at the golden stupa, named That Dam, which is the pretty much the symbol of Laos.

Hot (seemingly)- lower 80s: Our jumbo driver then took us to Patuxay, which literally translates (from French) to “Gate of Triumph.” The money for it was given to the Laos by the American government to build an airport during the Vietnam War. The Laotians figured that they knew a better way to spend it: build a monument in their capital city honoring the Laotian soldiers who had died in WWII and fighting for independence from France. The arch is refered to as the “vertical runway.” The Chinese also “helped” with this monument by donating a musical fountain, which is covered in grime. However, it is spectacular to look at when it is running. The arch has multiple levels: there is the ground underneath it, the level up one set of stairs where you can look down into the shade below, up the next set of stairs to where little windows with Buddha carvings let the light come in, a level with shops, a level that is supposedly a museum but also contains shops, the “top” with the sun beating down on you, another little shop slightly above the center of the “top,” and the true top, which can only hold about ten people once you go up a set of steep and twisty stairs. While we were coming down, we heard someone doing a cover for One Direction and they were awful.

Even hotter- mid-80s: After our ride, we went to The Pizza Company and Swensen’s for lunch. It’s awesome having a Swensen’s- the first foreign chain-restaurant in Laos- a two minutes’ walk away from where we’re staying.

Hottest (we’re guessing)- upper-80s, lower-90s: We stayed inside and read on our Kindles. I actually got Ethan to read Heidi!

Cooler- lower-80s: Our supper at the Lao Kitchen was delicious. The two most important parts for me were these: I got to drink a Mirinda for the first time in my life and that cat scared me. I had an orange Mirinda in a bottle. Ethan thought it tasted like Fanta, but I think it tastes more like Thomas Kemper, which is, in my opinion, the best orange soda ever. (Except Mirinda may now edge it out to win gold.) That cat was the feline who kept walking back and forth in front of the Lao Kitchen. It seemed to have nothing better to do than pace and, as Dad and I saw, jump at the occasional bug. Mom said that it looked like a Jersey cow because it was white with brown splotches. I said that it seemed like it was a guard cat, but Dad said that it couldn’t seem to guard its tail, which was little more than a three-inch stub. It crawled under the table, I pulled my feet back, we touched each other, I squealed, and that cat ran away.

Colder: It’s getting that way all the time! Ciao!