We were waved off by the woman from the hotel (was that a hankichief fluttering in her hand?) and then went to the airport to catch a plane back to Vientienne. Though was a bit concerned that it looked like the same plane in the film "Alive" ... the one that crashed in the Andes.
A few hours in Vientienne and then caught the bus to Hanoi. Unbelievable. After the fiasco of the bus that got us here, this one had little cloth doilies over the headrests and a stewardess handing out a towel to freshen up with and our dinner! As we left the staff were waving us off ... it was all very sweet of them.
Then reality began to seep back as we noticed the holes in the walls of the bus and the unreclineable seat that held you bolt upright. I prised open my dinner box and glanced down at my cling film covered bit of sponge (for demisting the window perhaps?), the 2 menthol sweets and the mini-banana rattling around in the other corner. Perhaps it was going to be a long journey after all.
The night began to drift into a haze of drinking-water-under-the-seat rivers and soaking socks ... the pink / orange glow of streetlights and headlights ... one-eyed glimpses of moonlit paddy fields and houses on stilts walking through the night. Continual pee break stops ... oh now I want to go! Stop to help a bus broken down in the middle of nowhere. More people coming on the bus ... quick, spread out and pretend to be asleep ... no good. I regain my normal role as portable cushion for Andrea to sleep on ... an unwelcome draft of wind on the face from the broken rattling window ... the even more unwelcome rumble of wind somewhere in the bus (you know what I am saying) ... the internal bus lights flashing on and off like a traveling disco.
Oh ... give me a bed.
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