Monday 22 September 2008

I'm in a world of shit... yes. But I am alive. And I am not afraid.

Helen eventually woke me up at about seven and we grabbed all of our stuff and crashed next door into a room that had a toilet. 

I went and told the manager what we had done and he actually seemed truly concerned about her, even offering to drive us to the hospital about half an hour away. I said that she should be fine, and we tried to get a little more sleep.

After half an hour it was obvious this wasn't going to happen and I went out on the search for some rehydration tablets or powder, which I got from a pharmacist not too far away.

As it turned out, the next three days were to be the biggest festival of the year in Luang Prabang, and throughout the day people were setting up stalls for food, drink, games and toys for children, preliminary long-tail races were crashing through the river that we were right on top of and there was a general feeling of excitement and fun from everyone in the town. Helen, however, was just feeling like shit.


I tried to be the best nurse I could, and by the late afternoon the worst of it had passed. The posse that had been on the bus with us were meeting up at six for a meal, and I told them that we may be able to make it if Hel felt any better.


During the day I went in search of the hostel that we had originally planned to stay in, Ed and Nicky had planned to be there and we had also told Helen's mate Tori from the University hockey team that's where we would be. After a few hours of searching, my incredible sense of direction failing me at every turn, I had walked about four miles, got nicely burned, but had found it.

I asked the lady if we could have a room for the following day, and she replied that we could, all was well. When I rounded the corner on the way back to my own hostel I even bumped into Ed and Nicky. I told them about Helen but said she was on the mend and that we would probably see them tomorrow afternoon.

My walk home was slightly more successful, but was soured by the fact that I bumped into a lad that had shunned the bus and taken the boat. 'It was a great laugh, yeah! It was a bit crowded but the food on the boat was great, we stayed in a wicked little hostel and all had a party, and then we got here about three hours early. How was your bus journey?'

I made his death as painless as I possibly could.

Arriving back at the hostel I found Hel getting dressed, she was obviously feeling a lot better and had had a chat with some of the girls that we were meant to meet for dinner. Right before we went out to meet them though, she took a turn for the worse. 


I actually went out anyway, leaving my poor girlfriend to wallow in a state of emptiness inside and out in the room and went up to meet the guys for a bite. I felt like a bit of a bastard, but as I found out later that night, fate was to have its revenge.


After a nice meal, the name of which I cannot remember but translated as 'The Drunken Mess', essentially a bit of everything thrown together, I went back and tended the best I could to Helen. She'd made a decent recovery, and could take on a bit of liquid now.


We watched a Family Guy that we had downloaded onto Hel's iPod and she drifted off. I, however, did not. I felt slightly queasy to say the least. Within three minutes I had devolved into a baby; pissing, shitting and puking simultaneously, all of which in the quietest possible way as to not wake my sleeping shitstress.


Touché Cosmot.


All night I was in a right two an' eight. This was followed by all day the next day, meaning that I, and again, bless her, Helen, missed out on the absolutely huge celebrations that were going on outside. We could watch about 80 metres of the boat races but that was about all.


We also noticed that Laos children were obsessed by toy guns, and the standard of toy guns was incredible. It looked like there was a child army outside, armed with everything from little pellet-shooting pistols to full on semi-automatic plastic rifles. It was a stark reminder that not so long ago this Communist State had been in a steady flux of war that children of their age would have been fully involved in.

Toy guns are strange.

We also missed the Monks collecting alms (not 'arms' as I first thought someone said, this country's gun-mad, I thought) in the morning, but I was almost glad as the stories we later heard of wanker tourists like ourselves shoving huge cameras in the monks' faces and touching their robes made me glad that I wasn't there to get vicariously embarrassed.


So, the day after the celebrations, we moved on to the other guesthouse, knowing that Ed and Nicky would be back from an elephant Mahout trip the following day, and Helen's mate Tori would be along soon.

There was a veritable heap of things to do in Luang Prabang, bum problems over, we were determined to crack on with them.

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