“I don’t know,” I said. “We’ve watched the show for years, and it’s rare for the producers to let a couple of teams get so far ahead.”
She cocked her head. “So there might be a chance for us to catch up?”
I shrugged. “We’ll see when we get there.”
“They could be sitting around with nothing to do because whatever challenge awaits us can't start until morning,” Zara said with a mischievous grin. “Sometimes being behind actually works in your favor."
It was an optimistic take, and I hoped she was right.
The flight to Vientiane was mercifully short - just over an hour - but every minute felt crucial. As we descended toward Wattay International Airport, I saw the Mekong River winding through the city, the golden spires of temples catching the late afternoon light.
"Okay," I said as we deplaned, Cody right behind us with his camera. "Bus station, tickets to Luang Prabang, and pray we can stay ahead of the social media stars."
Zara and Maddox were right behind us, though, moving with surprising efficiency for people who usually posed for photos at every opportunity. This was no time for content creation - this was survival.
We were able to get tickets for all four of us and our camera operators on the two PM bus. It pulled away from Vientiane's chaotic terminal in bright sunshine, casting the Mekong River in shades of gold and crimson.
"Six hours," Ray said, checking his watch. "Think you can handle the mountain roads?"
"With neither of us driving or worrying about stick shifts? I’d like to try and relax. We’ll get to Luang Prabang when we do, and see what the challenge is."
“Very Zen of you,” Ray said with a smile. “Southeast Asia is working on you.”
The bus was comfortable enough—not luxury, but clean with decent seats and working air conditioning. Zara and Maddox sat a few rows behind us, already documenting their "authentic Southeast Asian travel experience" despite the mundane reality of vinyl seats and the faint smell of diesel fumes.
As we left the city behind, the landscape began to change. The flat rice paddies gave way to rolling hills, then proper mountains covered in dense forest. The road carved through valleys where small villages appeared like hidden secrets—clusters of wooden houses on stilts, golden temple roofs catching the last light, children waving from doorways as our bus rumbled past.
"Look at that," Ray pointed to a waterfall visible through the trees, cascading down rocky cliffs in multiple tiers. "You could spend days exploring just this one valley."
I nodded, watching the scenery unfold like a slow-motion film reel. For weeks, we'd been racing past some of the world's most beautiful places, too focused on competition to appreciate where we were. Now, forced to sit still and watch Laos roll past our window, I felt something I hadn't experienced since the race began: genuine peace.
"This is nice," I said quietly.
Ray reached for my hand. "Yeah, it is."
The bus wound higher into the mountains, our driver navigating hairpin turns with casual expertise. In the late afternoon light, cooking fires began to twinkle from houses tucked into hillsides. The air that drifted through slightly open windows carried the scent of woodsmoke and jasmine, unfamiliar spices and the green smell of jungle growth.
Other passengers dozed or chatted quietly in Lao, their conversations creating a gentle murmur that mixed with thesteady rumble of the engine. An elderly woman across the aisle unpacked a meal of sticky rice and grilled fish, offering some to her seatmate with easy generosity.
"We never do this anymore," I said, watching the woman share her food. "Just travel to see places, without an agenda or schedule."
"When we get home," Ray said, "let's plan a real trip. Somewhere we can take our time."
"No itinerary?"
"No itinerary," he confirmed. "Maybe rent a cabin in the mountains. Drive back roads. Stop whenever something looks interesting."
The idea appealed to me more than I'd expected. "I'd like that."
Around the fourth hour, as we crossed a high mountain pass, Maddox finally succumbed to motion sickness. Zara held his head as he suffered through a bout of nausea, their usual content-creation dynamic completely forgotten in favor of basic human care.
"You okay back there?" Ray called out.
"He'll be fine," Zara replied, stroking Maddox's hair. "Just needs the road to straighten out a bit."
It was a reminder that beneath the influencer personas, they were two friends looking out for each other. Not so different from any of us, really.
The final stretch descended through a series of long curves, and suddenly we saw lights twinkling in the valley below—Luang Prabang, spread along the banks of the Mekong like a constellation that had fallen to earth.
