There is of course, a downside to relentless use of local buses - long, bumpy journeys with a severe lack of sleep. Heading back south from our adventures with the northern Laos hill tribes, I set a new record for my longest bus journey to date - 19 hours. It was again enjoyably uncomfortable and rough going, but with friendly local faces all around. Next stop was back on the tourist route at Vang Vieng where I was encouraged off the bus at 2am in the monsoon. One small light drew me in out of the darkness and I woke up a local lady to give me a bed for the night after initially expecting to get very wet. The next morning, stunning limestone peaks loomed high above the town as I realised there was a little more than one guest house and a through road. It was time to relent and become a lager lout for a couple of days in Laos' adventure capital. First on the list, obviously, was to rent another bright blue bicycle with bell and basket to go exploring amongst the peaks. An enjoyable day riding through villages surrounded by towering peaks in every direction was made even more interesting by the afternoon monsoon which reduced every road to a muddy bog. I made it back in one piece and resolved to take up more sedate pursuits, namely "tubing", or "floating down a river in a tractor inner tube whilst trying not to spill any beer". With rickety makeshift bars lining the banks, I had two attempts at this dubious activity, both times forgetting to pick up my life jacket. The second run was indeed sedate as Sarah and I floated downstream with similarly out of control folk, stopping occasionally for a bucket of whisky. The first run was somewhat less successful as some cocky individual suggested a macho summersault competition off a rope swing back into the river. Initially nervous, I remembered back to my gymnastics past (second place in the 1988 Stourbridge Under 10's) and gained some composure. I walked out along the flimsy bamboo platform in confident mood, until it decided that after several years of use, that would be the precise moment it gave way... before i'd even reached the rope then, I found myself plunging worryingly downwards. Fortunately, a sturdy wooden post was at hand to break my fall... and almost 3 of my ribs. Observing my new scar running from shin to chest, I retired from gymnastics on the spot and tried not to breathe deeply for several days.
Having our fix of pizza and Friends repeats didn't take long, and soon enough we were on another bus for the ride down to Vientiane, Laos' laid back capital city overlooking the Mekong river. The highlight here was undoubtedly our visit to the Don Khoi Children's Development Centre thanks to some friendly American aid workers we'd met in Muang Sing. They took us along and we enjoyed a fantastic morning joining in with the children's games, music, basket weaving, and my favourite - making rock animals. I was a little slow to pick this up but my little friend Pon helped me out and by the end of the morning I was rather pleased with my Rock Gecko and my Rock Great White Shark. Playing Chinese whispers in Laos was even more of a challenge, until my team sneaked an adult in front of me in the line to ensure a narrow victory over Sarah's equally struggling outfit. The children we'd met in Muang Sing took us in and looked after us all morning, eager to involve us in the fun they were having. The centre itself was hugely impressive and although we both left with big smiles, we'd have been more than happy to stay a bit longer.
Finally, our time was up, and after a fantastic time in the friendliest, most relaxed country you could ever find, Sarah headed south whilst I turned East to set another new local bus record - 23 hours to Hanoi. Good times indeed.
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