But the feeling here is sadness, not glory. Rooms are filled with present from other nations. Among the few excursions from Luang Prabang are villages where textiles, rice wine, metal tools and paper are made by hand. Late in the morning we climb aboard a long skinny boat powered by a car engine. As we chug up the muddy river, children wave from the shore and dive into the water.
Farmers tend fields and thick clumps of bamboo dot the shoreline.
The caves are the closest the country has to a bona-fide tourist attraction. A few faded signs, funded by an Australian grant, help interpret the site. The upper cave is another experience. Greeting us at the top of a long stairway is a watchman. He leads us into the darkness.