A Close Shave in Luang Prabang

Hair, hair everywhere.  Time for a little trim.

Wandered the streets and came across a Barberbear.


He was cutting this chap’s hair when we went past, and was still at it when we returned some time later.  ” Hello “. I thought, “this is a meticulous fellow”.


Little did I know just how meticulous.

We made ourselves comfortable and looked on admiringly as he buzzed and shaved, trimmed and primped, sprayed and dusted.

We gazed at the chair his great grandfather had used when giving Marshall Petain a trim during the war.


We noted his open and honest face and wondered how he could do it for the price (15,000 kip, about $1.80).


So my turn came and I leapt gladly to the chair and sat and luxuriated as he, good honest fellow, went about his work with a will.

Would I like my beard and moustache trimmed a little ?  Certainment !

Shall Monsieur’s highbrows be a leetle less, how you say, like ze caterpillars ?  Absolutement mon ami !

He did a damn fine job on my hair and as I bleared short sightedly at the mirror I noticed that he may have given me just a leeeeetle more than I paid for with the beard and stache trim.  But no matter.

It was only when I got home to the well lit mirror in the bathroom at our hotel that I realised that the blighter had surgically removed my eyebrows.



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