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Laos people in general are not good at traveling, probably because they don't do it very often. Before very long sick bags were being passed around by the conductor and many of the locals were taking a serial interest in Vic's inhalers. Gradually the bus thinned out as people got off in successive villages, and when a seat nearby became free the guy in the middle of our seat gestured that I should take it before anyone else did, which I was more than glad to. He looked relieved too.

Look at rule 10

After a couple of false starts I found a nice, if relatively expensive ($7!) guest house which had a ground floor room free. This wasn't the best room in the house, because it was right by the lobby and the front garden so it was quite noisy. The staff slept on makeshift beds in the lobby, so if I needed to go to the loo during the night I was bound to wake them. Given the amount of beer I was drinking this was inevitable.

I went for an Indian meal, and ran into Dan, Becky and Lotte who had been on the Cargo boat, who had had the same idea. They had also been in Vang Vieng when I was, and we'd bumped into each other, but not hung around together. After dinner we were walking to a bar when we met Ali and Marie. Again we hadn't arranged to meet up, it just happened. We went to the Bamboo bar (that may not be it's name, but that's what we called it).

Just before I crossed the border from Thailand I had read reports of a bomb going off in a popular tourist restaurant in Vientiane, leaving two people dead and several badly injured. While I was there I kept a look out for an obviously bomb damaged restaurant, but I never found it. It was only after we reached Vietnam and were talking to some residents of Vientiane that we found out that the restaurant in question was the Bamboo bar. The owners had been told by the government to repair it immediately and hide any evidence of the blast. The restaurant was open for business the next night.

When I got back to the guest house, it wasn't so late - just after midnight - but already the staff were crashed out in the lobby, and while the front door was unlocked I'm sure I woke them up as I went to bed.

The Buddha park

I met Ali and Marie for breakfast in a restaurant on the river, run by a Laos woman who obviously had a little money, a penchant for power dressing and was keen to practice her English.

The Buddha park

The bus was a minibus with about eight rows of seats, two seats on one side and one on the other. On every double seat there were three people. On every single seat there were two people.

A somewhat bedraggled Marie struggles with a coconut

Before looking at the sculptures we stopped for some food (left). The sculptures themselves were similar to those at Salakaewkoo, near Nong Khai, except the theme was not so obvious.

Ali and Marie and a gargoyle

The bus journey back was a repeat of the one there, except that because we got on the bus while it was still empty we were able to grab single seats. This didn't stop us being leaned and trodden on by some very apologetic Laos.

We were starving when we got back to Vientiane, but had to make do with some noodle soup from a food stall near the Victory Monument, which wasn't entirely what was needed but had to do. Walking on to the Victory Monument, we met Dan, Becky and Lotte on their way back from it. We stopped and chatted, long enough that when we got there it had shut. Whether we would have made it if we'd gone straight there is fairly moot.

The Victory monument

The Victory monument from another angle

On the way back to the guest house I stopped to check my email and bumped into Jon. Back at the guest house, my laundry had been sent off as promised, but had not reappeared as promised. The girl at the desk promised to try and find out what had happened to it, but wasn't too hopeful because the next day was Laos new year.

I met everybody at the Bamboo bar, where Andy a friend of Dan's was celebrating his birthday. Also there was Theo from the Mut Mee, over in Laos so that he could get re-enter Thailand and get a new Thai visa. When I got back to the guest house there was a light on outside my window. There was no way I could sleep with it on, so I went out and looked for the switch without success. I had to disturb the girl who was sleeping in the lobby. She told someone else who went away and switched off a different light. I shouted that it was the wrong one, but he ignore me. So I got a chair, climbed on it and pulled the tube out of its socket, leaving it (undamaged) on a table.

That's a live pig

April 13th, and all of Laos goes mental. This is the big one - everyone has a day off, more or less, and uses it to attack with water, flour, lipstick and some kind of berries. We had two choices - stay indoors or join in.

Armed with talcum powder

We joined in.

But to begin with Ali, Marie, Jon and I went to the Victory Monument, pausing for them to buy some water pistols in the market, and to gawp at a pig being tied to a tuk tuk (right). So far, it was quiet. Sure we got fired on and fired back, but no-one looked like getting soaked. At the top of the Victory Monument were a gang of kids attacking everyone with flour (left).

Jon, Marie and Ali sniping from the victory monument

We went for a walk around town, and pretty soon we were all soaked. In particular Marie seemed to get picked on by everyone, so she looked stained and bedraggled. We did our best to dodge the attacks, but we were outnumbered and didn't care enough to avoid them.

Me, Jon, Marie and Ali freshly decked out

Nobody gets away dry

That evening Jon and I went for a curry and arranged to meet Ali and Marie later on. On the way to the bar I popped into the guest house to get a book for Jon, and while I was inside my shoes disappeared. The guest house had started tidying away shoes left near the front door, but they hadn't told anyone they were doing it. Someone with identical shoes to mine, but bigger and smellier, had had their shoes tidied away, had seen mine by the door and assumed they were theirs. I had to make do with theirs for the evening until the girl at the guest house managed to sort it out. She sorted out my laundry as well. What a sweetie!

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Last modified on 22nd December 2007 3:31 PM EST

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