Such a Wondrous Place, Let's Get Pissed Here

As we walked down the stairs of the guesthouse after our first night on the bed we'd named 'Steven Seagal' - it looked nice, soft and squidgy but in fact was a horrible, hard bastard - we collided into Edward and Nicola, fresh from two days elephanteering.

After a quick catch up we went into a whirlwind of activity, including visiting some super-wicked Wats and going to a big waterfall which we jumped off. It was here that our batteries ran out on our camera, but luckily a strange German lady was taking photos of Ed and I, so hopefully I can put up some good action shots from that particular day out. 

The only problem is I have to open correspondence with her, and I think she may be slightly odd. In a brain-mental way.

We also went to the night market and ate some of the greatest fish and meats ever in the world, or at least it seemed that way as Helen and I hadn't eaten for a good few days.

It was here that we witnessed what was in fact our second experience of dogs having sex, twisting around so they are literally facing the opposite way from each other and getting stuck. Amusing at first, then off-putting and finally downright distressing. Hopefully they've untangled by now though.

Ed and I bought a ball for about a pound, it had all of the roundness and slightly less of the kickablilty of an egg but it kept us happy for a good while.

We made plans to move on from Luang Prabang and head to Vang Vieng, home of some stunning scenery, vast green plateaus and hundreds of tourists getting drunk on the inner tubes of tractor tyres.

Our trip there was relatively straightforward, compared at least to our last bus journey. The only difficulty was that the minibus driver refused to turn on the Air Conditioning in a vehicle that was acting like a convection oven. 

Nicky put on her reasonably threatening tenor voice though, and for about ten minutes every half hour we had a bit of freshish air.

Other than the heat, the journey was really good. Scenic, a bit rough and therefore exciting and I had my first experience of the Adam and Joe podcasts, which I have since been quoting ad nauseum, much to Helen's, and eventually even Nicky and Ed's, disdain.

Inevitably, on reaching Vang Vieng, we slowly slipped into a bit of a beer mentality.

We soon shrugged off the 'Are we doing the ethical thing?' bit and slipped more into the 18-30's mindset of places such as 'Bucket Bar' (where Helen found another kitten to rescue and nurse back to health over the four days we were there) and a Swiss bakery.

We took on these luxuries with aplomb, and soon found ourselves floating down the astoundingly beautiful Mekong River, pissed and stoned listening to shit early nineties dance music being blasted out of the makeshift bars that the enterprising Laos people had set up for stupid ignorant people like ourselves.

But it was fun, so I don't care what you think. I don't owe you anything. In fact, Jon, you owe me thirty quid.

That day was full of small stories, none of which matter.

A few to note where that we made friends with countless small children, a fat man called Mr Lao Lao (or Mr Rice Whiskey) who was a bar owner, drug dealer - although all the drugs were free - and budding DJ and singer-songwriter. He insisted we take his CD, and by that stage we happily obliged.

Ed also swapped his obscure South American football team T-shirt with him for a random T-shirt, just because he thought it would be funny for a man in Laos to have it. To be fair, it was really funny. But by that stage...

If you can't make out the writing on our backs, Helen's says FREE PALESTINE and mine says I WENT TRAVELLING TO FIND MYSELF - TURNS OUT I'M A CUNT

The next day, feeling strangely chirpy, we had a good walk round and found a great organic restaurant where we gorged ourselves. The rest of the time was spent mostly avoiding people that resembled what we had probably looked like the day before, and wondering how the staff of the restaurants that showed Friends continuously, for 20 hours a day, hadn't gone quite insane.

Maybe they had, who knows.

The following evening we indulged in a pizza that was less than normal, and we felt less than normal for the next 36 hours. 

This place was run, bizarrely, by some bloke from Northern Ireland. I asked him how many pizzas we should get to 'feel their effect' and he said that 'four will do you.' I asked what they put on the pizzas and he said that it was weed. They used to do mushrooms but stopped doing it because, and I quote, 'People said they were shite.'
I asked what time the place shut and he said 'Whenever the police come and turf you out.' There's a curfew in the town - rather than a daily bust by the PoPo.

We decided to get two and see if we were still hungry - and happy - and then get two more if so. Thank fuck. 

We're still not entirely sure what the 'happy' ingredient was, but the cycle of 'happy' crashed pretty quickly into 'reasonably paranoid' followed by overt panic from Helen. I thought it was great though.

When we went to leave the bar I realised we hadn't paid, so Ed and I stared at the meaningless coins and notes in our hands trying to work out what this monopoly money meant.

By the time we got out, Helen was standing with her face right up against the wall of the bar. When I asked if she was OK, she replied: 'It's the only way I can feel normal.'

When we got back to our abode, the cats that Helen had rescued from the bar the night before had 'turned into gremlins', and we had to put them outside.

I think we'd eaten quite a lot of opium.

The other thing that happened of note was Helen left a wet towel on the bed and thereby can never ever moan about me doing it again.

Thereby, Vang Vieng passed us by in a puff of smoke and a splash of Lao Lao - which I'm sure would be an effective windscreen washer fluid - and we made our way to Vientiane, the capital of Laos.

After a disastrous start, getting quite confused and lost trying to find the hostel we planned to stay in, we eventually settled in a decent hostel. The next few days were spent exploring the city and eating A LOT of fresh bread and 'Happy Cow' cheese.

One fantastic thing we witnessed was a tuk tuk driver that drove us about for a while was constantly shaving his face, using the sweat that was dribbling down it - just like Mac out of Predator! Put simply - I could come home now and be happy.

'Here we are again bro... Just you and me. Same kind of moon same kind of jungle. Real number 10 remember... Whole platoon, 32 men chopped into meat... We walk out just you and me, nobody else. Right on top huh? Not a scratch... Not a fuckin' scratch. You know who ever got you. They'll come back again. And when he does I'm gonna cut your name right into him... I'M GONNA CUT YOUR NAME RIGHT INTO HIM!' Said the tuk tuk driver, before dropping us off at the mini-mart.

Looking back on this entire episode leaves me feeling reasonably hollow inside. Yes, it was great fun, at the time. But I feel an awkward guilt about what's going on in Laos. I hope it doesn't become a wretched hive of scum and villainy like Thailand. Or Mos Eisley Cantina.

Plus this entire post is wrong - we went to the pizza place two days before the tubing, we planned on going tubing the day after the pizza but everyone was still sketching out. And Han shot first.

Opium's a hell of a drug.