Luang Mah Tah, July 11/04 We are in Laos after 2 days of solid traveling since leaving Bangkok, having gotten up several mornings in a row at dawn to catch buses going north. The weather is typical for this time of year: hot and muggy with quite a lot of tepid rain, a drizzle which sometimes turn into a torrential downpour that soaks you through instantly. Check out today's weather in Laos.

So we spent the first night after we left the capital, in Chiang Rai in north-eastern Thailand. We took a bus the next day all the way to the border. We crossed the river in a kind of pirogue totally loaded up with people and luggage. Jo Ann who was new to this looked quite apprehensive but to her relief we did not tip over.

The Chiang Rai Bus Station

Example of Crossing Craft

Lao Bus Station

Once in Laos we decided to take the bus to proceed further north. The bus station was unimpressive and deep in mud, which should have been a warning of the adventures yet to come!! For VIP transportation, visit their web page for bus schedule in Laos. Anyway off we went on this rickety bus along a dirt road in the rain (of course!) and after about one mile or so, we got completely bogged. Our vehicle was literally stuck in this rich, chocolate colored mud...Nobody looked worried except for us. The driver valiantly tried to get out but to no avail. Finally after half an hour an enormous caterpillar appeared to rope us out. Unfortunately, the caterpillar had no intention to escort us all the way, so what were we going to do if-as it seemed likely, it would happen again...

So we set off hoping for the best. In short we covered this 198 kilometer journey in 13 hours. Quite an epic!!! We got stuck in the mud a few more times but thanks to the ingenuity of our driver and of his helper got out. We also had to cross rivers. Our bus was definitely amphibian and did not drown even though the floor got inundated with water a few times! We also encountered various obstacles along the way, like this massive tree that had fallen across the road after a land slide. The driver's assistant whom we had nicknamed the Magic Man got rid of it with his machete. Our chauffeur was definitely first class, sliding down a road, full of curves and often bordered by a vertigo-giving precipice. We were sliding, slipping, rocking, leaning dangerously to one side or another but miraculously arrived in one piece and alive. During all this time, the Lao passengers were remarkably cool and unruffled. Obviously they were used to risking their lives every minute when traveling by road. The landscape was splendid, incredibly mountainous and luxuriant, with many shades of green, from the delicate hue of the young shoots in the rice fields to the deep emerald of the forests up high.

And we saw fluttering garlands of pretty colored butterflies everywhere. And when night came they were replaced by fireflies who were dancing inside the bus.

We arrived at midnight to our destination which was asleep and deserted. We had to wake up the landlady of the guesthouse where we wanted to stay. She was very gracious and friendly and even prepared some food for us. Today we did not do much apart from renting bicycle to get a feel of the place and of the countryside. Tomorrow, we plan on visiting some native villages.

July 14 Laos , like Canada deserves the title of cultural mosaic...Here coexists a myriad of ethnicities apart from the Lao people. Many are tribes that came from China to escape religious persecution. Each has their own distinct culture: their own dress (often extremely colourful), their own rituals and beliefs. They build their homes and irrigation system with much ingenuity, making the most of natural resources. Here, bamboo is king! We enjoyed the North. One day, while we were there we decided to visit a village 80 kilometers away from where we were because we had read in our travel guide that every 14th and 28th of each month, merchants from Burma, Thailand, China and Burma gathered there to sell their wares. We started to imagine some kind of grand fair, really picturesque to see and got all excited about the prospect of attending such an event. As it was the 14th, we decided that we were in luck and to go to this village called Xieng Kok.

Jo-Ann, tired of travelling by road and wanting to spare her "derriere" the hardships of another bus trip suggested that we charter a jumbo (mini van), no less. And this we did. It took some bargaining to reach an appropriate price, acceptable to both parties and off we went with our jolly driver, taking turns to sit in the front beside him. His English was limited. While we were wheezing along the road through rustic villages, he was trying to make polite conversation pointing at various obstacles along the way and saying enthusiastically "buffalo", "chicken", "bicycle" and smiling happily every time we nodded our heads in assent.

Upon arriving in Xieng Kok, right away we had a feeling that something was amiss. The place was unusually quiet, practically deserted. No noise or any kind of movement indicating the bustle of a gathering especially of international importance!!!. We kept saying "market", "market". Our jolly driver who now looked puzzled and slightly worried because he could feel something was wrong obligingly took us there. All the stands were covered in dust and strangely silent!!! What a let down! Our bible, the Lonely Planet guide had made a mistake. We had no other recourse than to go back, to the utter amazement of our chauffeur who must have thought that we were slightly soft in the head to travel 4 hours to see a bunch of empty stalls. He was quite good about it though and even had the kindness to stop at another market on the way back as a consolation prize!!!

I am in love with this country, so untouched by mass tourism in a very refreshing fashion.

The locals are genuinely friendly, serene and naturally curious of foreigners. From the Wiki Travel site, I learned that here are 68 official ethnic groups roughly divided into three main groups, the Lao Loum or lowland lao people who live in the Mekong river valley and its tributaries, the Lao Theeung are semi nomadic and live on mountain slopes, and the Lao Sung or High Lao who live in the high mountains of the north.

Lao Loum

Lao Theeung

Lao Sung

July 15 It is a socialist country in a very different way from Cuba or Vietnam. Socialist beliefs are not immediately apparent, at least here in the North. For the first time today in Udomxai, I saw some communist flags and what looked like a propanganda mural... Jo-Ann is a great travelling companion, she is learning the ropes fast despite her propensity to forget some of her belongings in her wake. I am also doomed to be the banker of the team till we part as she claims that she is not good with money. However I do not mind because she is a lot of fun to be with as well as very opened and adaptable.

We have done lots of cycling and walking through native villages. Our boots now pride themselves of a permanent coat of red mud.

We have seen different ethnic minorities, all very colourful and with their own distinct culture, like the Akkha with their solid silver head dress, or the Tai Lao so elegant in their dark ample costume bordered by a lace of brighter colour. These people live in a very "primitive way" by streams in thatched roof houses made of bamboo or woven vine. The kids, piglets, poultry, buffaloes are frolicking around all day long..and every time we go by the children shout "sawadee!"(hello) in glee. They are especially impressed by Jo Ann, the "white giant" and by my rebellious afro!!

July 17 This morning we left the town of Muang Sing to go back to Luang Mah Tah. From there we went to Udomxai through spectacular scenery covered here and there by diaphanous veils of mist... Lots of bamboo, chocolate coloured gushing streams, an incredibly abundant vegetation with tropical flowers. bright yellows, reds, pinks...

Tomorrow we leave for Pakbeng. We are zigzaging in fact! There we want to catch a boat to go south to Luang Prabang, the cultural capital of this marvelous country. Life has never been so good. Hope you are all also enjoying the summer wherever you are.

On a wedge of land formed where the Mekong and the Nam Khan rivers meet, Wat Xieng Thong is the most beautiful of the Luang Prabang temples and represents the Lao art style. These spectacular Kouangsy Waterfalls are located deep in the forest, away from human habitation. It is perfect for rest and relaxation. On the way to the falls, quaint villages can be visited.

The limestone caves (shown to the right above) are located on the steep rock cliff rising above the confluence of the Mekong and Nam Ou rivers. The breathtaking craggy cliffs overhang the swift flowing river. Inside the two caves are many Buddha images. The lower cave is called Tham Ting, or Tham Leusi. The upper is called Tham Theung, or Tham Prakachay.

Having been in this part of the world for nearly three weeks now. It is time to take a pause and look back on my travels, to write an account of what I have seen and felt in this country so verdant and so peaceful called Laos that has stolen my heart. I, in advance, apologize for any probable errors as I am going to type away... Serenity and tranquility are the two words that spring to my mind when I think of Laos. A paradox in itself, for a nation victim, in the past, of so much devastation and that, I discovered, became the innocent target of a secret war waged by the US during the Vietnam conflict. Uncle Sam's pilots never thought twice about dropping what was left of their bombs here when they were coming back from their murderous missions... Despite the hardships endured, Laotians, are all sweetness and smiles. Very gentle people, quite proud of their cultural heritage. Mass tourism has not yet spoiled them and the interaction between them and foreigners remains quite authentic. There are few beggars nor children holding out their hands. All are naturally very curious-but never offensive- puzzled by our "strange" mannerisms and appearance, especially in remote areas. However, we never feel the object of any animosity and very rarely do locals try to take advantage of us financially, which is very refreshing. A rare gift indeed! Another paradox is the way "socialism" is lived here. A far cry from Vietnam or Cuba even though in fact their system draws its inspiration from the Vietnamese model. What we see here is religion everywhere in all facets of daily life. Temples, shrines and spirit houses abound. At dawn, processions of monks draped in bright orange go around to collect their daily food from the people and when the sun drops, we can hear the incantations of the same monks chanting in their deep voices.

Apart from Buddhism, the spirit of free enterprise and small businesses appear to flourish at every street corner. Laos ranks among the 10 poorest nations of the world. There is certainly a serious lack of medical care and high infant mortality, especially among ethnic tribes. However, these minorities do not seem to starve: they have their rice paddies, poultry galore, buffaloes, goats, pigs with myriads of piglets.

These animals by the way are a real danger to any motorized vehicle as they firmly occupy the roads and refuse to bulge even when honked at. Many a times I have feared that we were going to collide with some of these unafraid creatures but miraculously the bus driver always succeeded in not decapitating any of them!

Another fact that surprises me is the near absence of the police or the military apart for the occasional checkpoint during a bus trip when the driver has to get some documents stamped. And last but not least, unlike Cuba, prostitution is not apparent. It is in fact illegal. I suspect that it is existing if one is willing to pay but in a clandestine fashion. This was confirmed two days ago when I was strolling back to the guest house in the softness of a warm velvety evening. A young man approached me politely and asked me if I wanted ganga? (pot), opium?, disco?, hot love? In the end seeing that I kept saying no, he bowed and walked away... We really enjoyed our visit of the rugged north, including the bus trips. In fact we were pretty close to the Chinese border (Yunnan province), about 20 kilometers away. We felt the Chinese influence. We saw some Chinese men strutting like peacocks in some cities, like Udomxai, where they own wealthy businesses and act as if they were on "conquered land"! And in the rice fields we have even noticed some Laotians wearing Mao caps! That is all folks for today.

July 20 We traveled by river to the cultural city of Luang Prabang along the Mekong where at times the waters turned into rapids which we had to avoid along with viciously dangerous rocks jutting out here and there. The scenery was pretty to look at but the journey was a bit spoiled by the presence of about 30 young and noisy backpackers who had just entered Laos through Thailand. They had made all their travel arrangments from there and their names and passport numbers figured on a list that an official looking Laotian had in his hand. He seemed surprised that we were not on the list. We explained that we had purchased our tickets that very morning. He just shrugged his shoulders and moved on. Did that mean that if for any reason we were to be engulfed in the murky waters of the river, nobody would ever know how we had come to our end? a grueling thought...

July 23

Anyway we arrived at our destination without any mishaps. Luang Prabang, the City of Temples. A delightful place where a temple awaits you at every street corner. And when you have seen one, you have not seen them all! Each of them has its own character. Each one superb in its own rights with painted frescoes, intricate mosaics, delicately carved doors and pillars.

In addition to everything else, the temples also have magnificent gilded Buddha statues in the three traditional positions: standing, sitting and reclining. The standing Buddhas in this country are unique, with their hands at their sides, like a gymnast, beautifully erect, ready to make a perfectly controlled movement. This posture is called the "call for rain". And believe me considering the deluges we had to go through lately, this call seems to be very effective!!!

The temples are often flanked by a wooden monastery, where the monks put out to dry their flaming orange robes on bamboo sticks. Around the main temple, you find shrines, stupas and lots of fragrant shrubs and trees where tropical blossoms throw splashes of vibrant colors. Sometimes a temple has in the front a flight of stairs bordered by two undulating stone snakes with dragon heads. Some temples have been built in the typical Luang Prabang style with the curved sides of the roofs ruffling down elegantly like some voluminous "crinoline" almost touching the ground. We have been lucky with the weather in Luang Prabang. It has been gloriously sunny! It is right now the wet season in South East Asia and when it rains, it pours. However, we are well prepared with two ponchos each and an umbrella bought at a local market, made in China of course!

July 25 But no matter, things could have been a lot worse. All passengers waited patiently by the side of the road, enjoying the gentle massage of a warm drizzle while the repairs were being expertly done. The mountainous scenery was spectacular any how, well worth a stop, even if forced. While riding, we kept on climbing and climbing along a sinuous road bordered on one side by a gaping precipice. Some of the curves at a sharp angle (almost ninety degrees) seemed at first impossible to negotiate but every time we succeeded in not falling off the cliff and finally arrived at our destination somewhat dizzy but alive! After Luang Prabang, we were off to Phonsavan, on board a bus which only broke down twice... Not bad, eh? Our driver and his aids always resourceful and mechanically inclined first had to replace one of the belts and later one of the tires, which considerably lengthened our journey. In Phonsavan, we had a different experience. By chance, while I was enjoying my morning coffee, a friendly local by the name of Khamsavang started talking with me. This charming man was the coordinator of a clinic helping the victims of UXOs (UnExploded Ordnances). This part of the country had been heavily bombed and mined during the 60ies and 70ies and to this day it is highly dangerous to walk off the beaten track. Khamsavang's clinic is sponsored by the Canadian government, via a Quebec based organization called Garneau International. When Khamsavang found out that I resided in the country of the Maple Leaf, he became even more friendly and offered to send us a jeep and a chauffeur to first go and visit his clinic and then to take us to the famous Plain of Jars, which was the reason for our being in Phonsavan. The vehicle arrived at our hotel a little after 9. At the clinic, Khamsavang, the head doctor greeted us with effusion and took us for a tour of the premises. We saw various people, young as well as old who had lost a limb. We saw the workshop where the orthopedics were made as well as the rehabilitation corner where patients were taught how to function with their handicap before being sent back to their villages. All seemed strangely subdued and I could not help looking at them with compassion. The subsequent visit to the Plain of Jars appeared a bit of an anti-climax. We saw one of the sites, a vast expense of grass, slightly hilly and dotted with stone jars of mysterious origin. Some are truly enormous, others have lids and one had the imprint of a carved human face on its flank. They are around 2000 years old and nobody knows for sure what they were used for and why they are there. Many theories have been put forward, some quite far-fetched by the sound of it! Anyway, they look sort of incongruous in the middle of the fields. Maybe one day if some more are found intact, they will yield their secret, whatever it is. That is all for today. My next installment will be once we arrive in Vientiane, the capital city of Laos. Hope you are all well and not tired of my rambling ons!

July 27 Still in Vientiane... It does not have the feel of a major urbain center at all. Very laid back, slow paced with only a handful of traffic lights and a midnight curfew. We love it and feel very much at home here.

The other day, we went to a temple called Wat Sok Pa Luang in the late afternoon. There in a small pavillion in the middle of the garden monastery we attended an interesting session of Vipassana meditation with two young monks and an old toothless nun who had a twinkle in her eye and who kept making faces at me every time the gong would sound! We did some sitting and walking meditation, very soothing and conducive to introspection...It made me understand a little about the people in this country. They engage their full attention into what they are doing, no matter how mundane it is. They are satisfied with what they have and are not "clinging" to anything or expressing any strong feelings or emotions, positive or negative. They are content to take the "middle way".

Yesterday we went to get our Cambodian visas. They are superb! Very colourful. Tomorrow we are heading south and are going to start roughing it again. We indulged ourselves greatly in Vientiane. Last night we treated ourselves to a superb several course dinner with show for the astronomical price of $6 US at the Lang Xang (meaning million elephants) Hotel. The show was excellent: traditionnal folk instrumental music, songs and dances. The graceful and enchanting choreography was a delight for the eyes as well as the magnificent costumes and head dresses. There were even circus acts.

So far we have eaten really well in Laos. The food is fresh, well seasoned. Lots of succulent fresh fish from the unappetizing looking waters of the rivers, either grilled or steamed. Some dishes can be quite challenging to the palate, however, like the green papaya salad! The beer is strong and is called...Lao! The French bread is definitely French and it is a treat to have an authentic baguette still hot from the oven in the morning. As to the coffee it is incomparable. We are addicted to it. Dark, robust and as murky and thick as the waters of the Mekong river. Upon these culinary considerations, I leave you and do not know when I will be in touch next as we are heading into the unknown.

July 29 The adventure continues. We have left Vientiane, the capital of Laos and are working our way down toward Cambodia. Yesterday, we boarded a bus en route for Savannakhet, a city located beside the Mekong river. Now we are heading into southern Laos. It truly has a flavour of its own. The scenery is flat, with some flooded areas where half immerged trees raise their foliages. Many many shades of green, buffaloes wallowing with delight in the mud, rice fields and a pace even slower than in the North.. Our view from the bus indicated we were headed into a marshy and lushly green land, that is... a heaven for insect borne diseases. Consequently we are now spraying ourselves more than ever with repellent. Even though our guide did not say much about Savannakhet, we were pleasantly surprised and decided to spend more time than planned. Savannakhet town is situated on the banks of the Mekong river opposite Mukdahan, Thailand. It is quite delightful with its many gardens and quaint houses of colonial architecture reminiscent of past splendor. At times it is like being in Old Havana, Cuba. Here we can feel many different ethnic flavours: Lao, Chinese, Vietnamese and Thai. The people are the friendliest we have encountered so far, with a winning smile always ready to flower on their lips. This morning we visited the one and only catholic church, just behind our guest house. While we were admiring its facade of ochre coloured stucco, we were approached by a man with grubby hands and a pinnafore who happens to be the priest! He invited us inside. The inside was gorgeous, with wood paneling and scenes of the bible depicted through local art: black lacquerware with mother of pearl incrustations. A class of cathechism led by a young novice who did not appear to have much control over her pupils was going on. We've also been to the local market bustling and fascinating, with goods from all the surrounding countries. There again the people were greeting us, feeling very happy when we would linger at their stall. Savannakhet charmed us with its old colonial French character. But what I will remember most about it are its garbage bins! Yes... garbage bins. They are made of what appears to be recycled rubber and are absolutely unique in a cute kind of way. They look like plump ripe round tomatoes with a carved top and embellish the entrance of the houses! The second city we visited in the south was Pakse. Pakse is situated at the confluence of the Se river and the Mekong (Pakse means 'mouth of the Se') and is a busy trading town. I will remember it mostly for its food. There among a crowd of convivial diners, Jo-Anne and I enjoyed the most succulent roast duck we had ever tasted! I would go back there, just for the duck, any day! Tomorrow we go the islands of Si Phan Don, a cluster of islands in the middle of the Mekong that are formed during the rainy season. There apparently, you can rent a bamboo hut and relax on a hammock. Just what we need! July 31 Aaahhhh... Si Phan Don...a paradise. There time literally stops. A spectacular countryside. You can just sit in a hammock all day watching the river flowing by swiftly. At times electric storms break out and you have to run for shelter or else. And then the rain stops as abruptly as it has started and gorgeous rainbows light up the skies. On one occasion we rented bicycles to tour the island where we stayed, called Don Khong, the largest of the islands in the Mekong. The heat was truly torrid and we paused several times in various villages, to cool off. At one of them, we bought a drink at an open kiosk run by a peasant and his wife. She was enthusiastically chewing betel nuts that made her look like a female vampire with her blood red lips and gums while making an adornement for the temple altar with banana leaves. The husband, as soon as we appeared was very much taken by our appearance! It was obvious that he found our difference in size highly comical. He touched my forearm and then that of Jo-Anne, appreciating its feel like a true connaisseur. Then he felt her ankle and again laughed jubilantly! In the meantime, more and more villagers seemed to be appearing even a cat, a dog, some chicks and some ducks that were also chuckling at us to their heart's content. Jo-Anne good humouredly stood up to everyone's delight and admiration for her height and flexed her arm muscles like Popeye when he has just gulped three cans of spinach. And then the show was over and we went on our merry way. It is time to leave Laos soon, with many regrets. And beautiful memories. Also it is the one country where we have felt true millionairesses! The inflation is such that if you change $100 US, you receive 1,000,000 kips, the local currency. The notes are 500, 1000, 2000, 5000, 10000 and the largest in circulation is 20000! So you almost need a wheel barrow to carry your "dough". To complicate matters, you can pay not only in kips but also in bahts (Thai currency) or in US dollars. We carry the three denominations and are doing a constant gymnastic to convert from one to the other! Aug 2 ... Our crossing the Mekong Adventure I have crossed , during my peregrinations, a fair number of borders by way of land , some of them little used by foreigners and only on rare occasions have I had scary or uncomfortable moments. For instance upon entering the Dominican Republic from Haiti the officials tried to intimidate me and extort money from me...but this time going from Laos into Cambodia has been a truly unique and eventful experience that I will remember for the rest of my life and so will my companion Jo-Anne, a first time backpacker who happens to be the main protagonist of this amazing story. First of all it is true that the southern border crossing between Laos and Cambodia does not see as many foreign travellers the others. Most tourists will enter Cambodia from Vietnam or especially from Thailand. However, we did meet on our way south some backpackers who had come through that way and they had no particular comments in terms of difficulties. So we did not anticipate any problems. However I must say that the day before for some unknown reason... could be an intuition, a premonition or a mere coincidence... I felt sort of uneasy and I told Jo-Anne about my feeling. But it it was just a feeling not substantiated by anything concrete; so we left it at that and off we went. At the Immigration hut on the Laos side not much was happening. Four young backpackers were there waiting for two officers to waive the $3.00 fee that these uniformed gentlemen wanted them to pay to give them their exit stamp. As neither side seemed ready to relent we deducted that the youngsters might be there ad vitam eternam as the officers kept saying in a sweet but firm voice: "no $3, no stamp". Jo-Anne and I handed our passports along with the required amount under the condemning eyes of the others travellers and were given a superb exit stamp along with a very official looking receipt for the controversial $3.00 fee! We then made our descent to the river Mekong. Our understanding was that we were to find a boat to take us first to the other side to validate our Cambodian visa and after to continue on the same boat all the way to Stung Treng, the first Cambodian major city. As we were arriving loaded like donkeys with our packs and bags a Laotian with a blue shirt grabbed some of our luggage without permission, screaming "speed boat, speed boat! and went towards the water. Needless to say that we followed, like a couple of chicks behind their mother hen! Once we stopped by the shore, we began a heated discussion about the price as the boatman wanted to overcharge us in a shameful fashion. In addition, Mister Blue Shirt was totally atypical for a South-Eastern Asian, aggressive, loud, rough and rude. Alarm bells kept ringing in my head and I said to Jo-Anne that I certainly would not feel safe traveling with such a boar and that I was not ready to do it. So all negotiations came to a stand still and we all sat down waiting for some thing new to happen as there seem to be no other boat than that of Mr. Blue Shirt in sight available for hire. Then something new happened. The four backpackers tired by the obstinacy of Laotian immigration had finally paid their dues and were arriving with all their luggage. Mr. Blue Shirt of course jumped on them and an even more intense dispute was resumed because the youngsters less well off than we were, were much less inclined to agree to the exhorbitant price of Mr. Blue Shirt who was getting gradually more and more angry. Finally Jo-Anne and I managed to negotiate a slow boat with another Laotian, a young one, who seemed to be the epitomy of pleasantness compared to his irate cohort. However, I felt uneasy going on a boat, the two of us alone with two local men, the young one would need to take a second with him in case of navigational difficulties. There was no other choice. The young sweet Laotian said that we could cross on a pirogue to the Immigration hut on the other side and that he would be waiting for us. He added that we did not need to pay to cross as it was included in the price and he took off. So we loaded everything in a small canoe and when we had finished the man at the helm demanded money! I tried to explain about the arrangment but to no avail. No money, no crossing! We were back to square 1 and getting very tired of this rigamarole! Mr Blue Shirt who maybe had something to do with this "coup de theatre" had conveniently disappeared! And the four packpackers were nonchanlantly sitting back up on the shore waiting for something else to happen. And something else did happen! In the form of two bearded Spaniards who arrived like Don Quixote and his servant to introduce a new element in the situation. They suggested that we team up with them to hire a boat. The idea appealed to me as we would no longer be two females crossing alone with the locals who appeared particularly difficult to deal with and volatile, to say the least! New negotiations were then resumed while we were waiting patiently in the canoe. Finally a deal was struck. There would be two boats: one belonging to Mr. Blue Shirt that would transport the 4 backpackers and another one belonging to a seemingly normal looking Laotian that would transport the two Spaniards and us, all that for the agreed sum of $8 per person, including the crossing! Relief, relief! But before we could get settled into the boats, both parties started to argue again! Our two captains were now demanding to be paid in full now... before delivering the goods! Mr. Blue Shirt was screaming particularly ferociously, "Pay now, PAY NOW!" I began to have serious doubts about his mental stability. Thank god he was not going to accompany us! In the end we agreed to pay half at the onset and half at the end of the river journey. On the other side, stood a hut, Cambodian this time full of officers that were twirling their thumbs and trying hard to look very busy as soon as they spotted us. They made us fill out the required sheets and collected all of our eight passports. They made us wait a really long time considering that we already had visas! Shut themselves in a room with our documents and were gesturing us to go away every time we would peak. They called back one of the Spaniards because he had filled out his form in red ink , which was apparently unacceptable. At long last they called us one by one. I was the first one. They looked at my picture, then scrutinized me because my hair is currently quite different, in a brillo pad style! I smoothed my hair away and they nodded approvingly. Then they asked me for $2 for water and rice. I opened my eyes wide, made a falsely surprised mimick, smiled sweetly and said that I had already paid $25 for the visa in Vientiane. To my utter amazement almost apologically they lowered their price to $1. I smiled even more sweetly, opened my purse, showed them 2000 kips(Laotian money, the equivalent of 20 cents) and handed it to them. They said, "No thank you!" (literally!) and then handed me my passport.!! They tried to play the same trick on Jo-Anne and then gave up with the others. So now we were on our way. Back on the boats where our luggage had been piled up and secured with string. A surprise was waiting for us. Our captains had assured us previously that for safety reasons their embarcations could only hold up to four passengers but we were now to travel with two more Laotians on each boat! The boats were narrow and obviously overloaded. There were in each two useless life jackets in rags and no helmets and we knew that we were going to travel really fast! To top it all, our captains demanded again the other half of the money! They were beginning to sound like a broken record. Especially Mr Blue Shirt who seemed now so enraged that he truly deserved the nickname of The Madman of the Mekong!!!! Nevertheless, we stood firm and maintained that we would pay upon arriving (safely!) at our destination. The captains started their engines grudgingly and we took off in a cloud of dirty smoke. We raced by at what seemed 100 km an hour, speeding by half submerged trees and rocks. Frankly, I was scared. One false move and we could have been killed instantly. To spice up our predicament, it began to rain and then to pour; the thick curtain of drops were falling almost horizontally with the wind, lashing at our faces cruelly, as well as that of our navigator who did not slow down despite the lack of visibility. Miraculously the deluge stopped and the two boats did as well. Once again our captains were demanding the other half of the money. The Madman of the Mekong who appeared to be the leader threatened to leave us stranded ashore in the middle of nowhere or to take us back where we came from! We did not respond to the threat and said calmly that we would pay him upon arriving as agreed. Then to my utter amazement, Jo-Anne stood up, opened her umbrella, started waving it wildly and screamed "Police, police! Help! Help! and then sat down again. The two captains, probably startled by this reaction, proceeded forward for a few meters and then the Madman of the Mekong turned his boat around and sped away. Our captain who appeared to take his lead from him, was about to do the same when one of the Spaniards and myself tried to reason gently with him. I was trying to speak to him in a reassuring tone telling him that we would pay him the rest as soon as we arrived! We were just one kilometer away from the pier. He listened to us and started his engine again. The Spaniard made the V sign to me as we slowly neared the shore. Then our captain stopped one more time to... ask us for his payment. I was just about to answer him again to convince him to cover the remaining few meters when we heard a huge splash!!!! To find out how it all turned out...Join us in Cambodia.