"If the world was run by teenagers, it might look like Vang Vieng." This is from an article I made the mistake of reading as we were on our way to the Laotian town. Vang Vieng is famous for being the place where you can float down a river in an inner tube and stop off at bars on the way. It's also infamous for being absolutely mental.

The article I accidentally read was a piece in the Guardian on the negative socio-economic impacts that thousands of gap year tourists have on what was once a quiet village. During peak season tourists can outnumber locals by 15 to 1. Needless to say, the article was pretty scathing, dwelling on things like the 26 drink-related tourist drownings in 2011 and how local children are being exposed to drink and drugs at a tender age, setting them on a bad path for life. Apparently other tourist destinations in Laos hold up Vang Vieng as a shining example of what not to become.

After a beautiful but ridiculously long and breakdown-filled journey, we arrived quite late into Vang Vieng. The first thing we did there was book our bus ticket onwards to Vientiane as we only planned to stay one day and then leave for the capital; hopefully contributing as little as possible to the troubles that the Guardian had talked about

Obviously I was pre-conditioned to see the bad things, but I did feel uncomfortable as we wondered around town that first evening. The Magaluf of Laos wasn't quite as bad as I'd been led to believe, but it's still totally centred around a destructive party culture that locals don't really take part in: Ladies sell sandwiches on the street late into the night, a la kebab vans; touts hand out leaflets for free drinks from the bars on "Party Island" and the restaurants all have huge TV's which blare out endless episodes of Friends.

Those TV's playing Friends came to epitomise my discomfort as we walked around town. Any TVs in Laotian restaurants are usually playing Thai melo-soaps for the staff to watch. I know you could argue that there's little difference and that everyone has to earn a living somehow, but still, having Friends playing all day, every day just doesn't seem healthy somehow - especially in beautiful Laos. For dinner that night we sat in the back of the restaurant - away from the TVs - and ate Laap (a traditional Laotian dish) and sticky rice with our fingers.

But then, when in Rome...

I was always taught that you shouldn't judge people until you've walked in their shoes and anyway, there was no way we were going to come all the way here and not float down the river in a tube. So after a lazy morning admiring the stunning mountains which surround Vang Vieng, we hired our tubes (return by six, or pay a fine), piled into a tuk tuk and headed upriver.

Now, I had thought there would be some sort of jetty that you would launch yourself off from and then you choose your bar on the way down, but no. Before you get anywhere near the water with your tube they put you into a little boat and take you to the first bar. Here they chuck your tube into the big pile, give you a little bracelet, a free shot and direct you through the throng of sweaty people towards the bar. Welcome to tubing in Vang Vieng!

The little rickety wooden bar was creaking under the weight of scores of topless men playing beer pong and girls dancing to the music thumping out of the speakers. People were spray-painting each other with stencils, dancing under the dance-floor shower and drinking "Lau-lau" whisky drinks out of little plastic buckets.

Si loved it. And before you could say "one beer Laos please" he was at the bar. We ensconced ourselves in a corner, drinking and watched the antics of the smashed people. Then we shared another beer, moved to a sunny riverside position and started laughing out loud as things got more and more ridiculous. Our beer finished, we saw that the crowds were thinning so we decided to press on to the next bar with everyone else. We wandered over to the big pile of tubes, grabbed one each and set ourselves off in the river. Si took off belly-down and managed to paddle over to the next bar. I was caught by the current and didn't have a chance, but luckily some local guys threw me a rope and hauled me in.

We decided that this bar was a good place to try these whisky buckets that everyone seemed to love so much. And they tasted pretty good for whisky. We hung around there for a while doing more people watching and getting to recognise different people ("oh look, the bloke who was dancing with bum-slapping guy is hanging upside down from the ceiling now..."). Tourist guilt totally forgotten, I had a great time - it was so funny! Then after what may have been another beer Laos or two we realised we had to hit the river if we were going to make it back before 6pm and avoid the late-tube-return fine.

Despite reluctantly floating past the high dive bar, rope-swing-over-the-water bar and water-slide bar and even with Si paddling, we were still late. So we cheered ourselves up with a tasty dinner and then headed over to Party Island to recoup our alcoholic losses.

We went straight to the most lively bar armed with vouchers for free whisky buckets that someone had given us on our way there. At the bar we bumped into Dylan, an awesomely fun guy from Dublin who we first met on our trek in Chiang Mai, and a nice Argentinian guy with a French name. Free buckets of whisky in hand we had brilliant night, though it's a bit difficult to remember it all now. It definitely rained at one point and everyone ran out to dance in the rain; and then I must have climbed to the top of a dodgy wooden platform to take some photos because I found them on my phone the next day. My favourite bit though, was just super-happy dancing in the early morning hours looking up at the stars and the lightning sparking through distant thunder clouds. Woop woop!

The next morning I woke up feeling a bit dodgy. I remember thinking that I was glad we'd gone for the en suite and that I really should have bought one of those cheese sandwiches from the a la kebab van ladies on the way home last night, and nuts to the Guardian. Still, I managed to make it through the shower and into some clean clothes without incident and then we thought about the day to come. Our bus for Vientiane left that afternoon so there was no question of doing any more tubing, even if we'd wanted to. That and my/our fragile disposition(s) meant that there was nothing for it but to check out of our hotel, walk shakily to our restaurant, sit down and order two full English breakfasts. And then watch Friends...

Vang Vieng. Glad we went, and glad we left!