127 Laoers

I can't believe it's only been a week since we last spoke. I have no idea where to begin - I've seen and done more amazing things than you could crack a whip at; met people I liked, people I hated (more of these, obviously, as it's my wont) happy locals, indifferent locals, surly locals. Fallen off a bridge, tubed down a river, got bitten endless times by mosquitoes, popped a few of the fuckers when they're too fat to fly away on my blood. Drank in quite possibly the most hedonistic bar I've ever been to, been undefeated on the pool table and slept in majesty and squalour, all for less money than the entrance fee to Alton Towers. This has been the last 127 hours in Laos(ers)

The slow boat journey into Laos from Chiang Mai took three days and included two hostel nights, a flash of blind panic, a little bit of sick and the cumulative erosion of my arse. The scenery on this trip was simply breathtaking. On either side of the Mekong - yeah, the bloody Mekong - vast wildernesses of jungle shrubbery interwove like only undomesticated and feral forests can - entangled and intertwined with one another in a series of frozen embraces like a Pompeian silent disco. This for hour upon hour almost distracted from the bot-bot gently crumbling beneath me but I'm not putting a photo of it on this post.

Getting into Luang Prabang after three days travel, the pace of the trip slowed considerably, which is no easy task after the slow boat. The surroundings were a manufactured beauty, but no less striking for it. After I relented to the first guesthouse to beckon me in, I put my bags away, had a shower and then walked out into the quickly erected night market right outside my digs. The streets were lit by an array of colours from the lanterns and candles which adorned them. It was like walking through a firework display up in the clouds, without any sound. The people were calm and friendly and no-one pushed and pulled you through the market with the desperation I'd witnessed over and over again in Thailand.

The night market came with its own fast food outlet down an alleyway, where plumes of traditional smells stung the eyes and rumbled the tum. The waterfalls were a spectacle in the coming days and offered a chilled relief from the biting heat that scratched at your skin like kitten claws in the midday sun. The festival provided a chaotic mix of music, temples, candled offerings floating down the Mekong and two fingers flicked at any sense of safety as fireworks bounced off your arm and exploded a foot away. I have to say, very difficult not to lose it at the kids for doing this, but instead I sated myself by swearing a lot at them and glaring. You know, that terrifying glare of mine. Picturesque in the extreme, but it still doesn't make it as the post photo.

Four hours from the still tranquillity of Luang Prabang, party city Vang Vieng rose from the touristic desire to experience the splendour of Laos countryside from the comfort of an inner tube. Rent one for the day and spend it drinking heavily in the bars dotted along the route and swinging into the water from their various equipment - this included a trapeze, a slide, a rope, an air bag, or just a fall, which I opted for after tucking a few too many local whiskies away. I felt more out of place than Stevie Wonder at the Imax in my UV protection t-shirt, green wanker hat and sporting my usual cadaver chic skin colour, but the beautiful ones looked pretty stupid too. Enough strutting to make a peacock blush, they lushed and pounded their way around the bars with that inimitable and unswerving confidence that only the very young can get away with. Now I know how it feels to be an 80-year-old woman and twitch nervously at the curtain when you hear that loud jungle music pulsing down the street. Incidentally, get some music of your own, ball-fruit - every single tune was a remix from when we ruled the earth. We still rule - I'm pretty sure of that. Stunning natural vistas, but even that didn't make the grade this week.

After drinking too much, the next day was about taking it easy - Easy Rider, that is! Hired a motorbike (with shopping basket accessory for added credibility) and bumped down the 'roads' to a beautiful blue lagoon which bubbled and steamed as I entered after the baking ride. So much fun and made all the better by the cave which lay above the lagoon after a steep 200 metre climb. This was quite superb and a real trial to conquer. No guide meant that it was down to us and our torches to navigate around the stalactites and stalagmites in the pitch black. Almost as soon as you enter, the light shone in through the mouth and lit up a golden Buddha lying on its side and shining in the sunlight. I've never seen anything so striking and just plain foreign. For once I felt like Dr Jones and that's why, after all the astonishing sights and unbelievable moments of the last week, that's the picture which makes it. Check. It. Out.

In the capital Vientiane at the moment (the capital city) awaiting a bus-bus-boat to 4,000 Island in the southern most tip of the country where I'm told the amazing displays will continue. Just ate a fried cricket, which was easily the most disgusting thing I've ever done, but it's about the experience, and it all contributes. Even if I will be pulling cricket legs from my teeth for the next day or two.

Thanks to mainstays Al and Rob for last week's comments. Al, if it makes you happy I'll admit it. She did offer the reach-around though, so that's mutually respectful, right? Also, I emailed you at your old email address - is this still correct? Message me, dammit! Rob, as you can see, it doesn't seem to be me that can't get over it. Get a Pop of your own - this one's taken. Cap chai.