Deep in the deepest south of Laos today, after yet another long bus journey. The weather is hot and drippingly humid. We arrived in Champasak, another world heritage site and an ancient temple built about the same time, and in the same style, as Angkor Wat in Cambodia. The mattress on our bed in our room dates from a similar era, with a similar odour of mustiness and damp. The television is tweely covered in a floral fabric. Brian investigates to see if he can catch the football highlights (when questioned he admits he has no idea what day of the week it is or who might be playing but it's a fair bet there will be highlights somewhere, someplace). Unfortunately for him the tv does not have a plug. Two people have frogs in their rooms. Brian's resolve to try out cheaper rooms crumbles totally and I make him sign two pieces of paper to this effect in case he changes his mind at a later date. Which, as some of you may be aware, is not unheard of.

Stuck in Vientiane with no chance of a flight south the Bus Nazis throw in the towel and Madam departs to join her beloved. Suddenly the Misery Bus starts to look quite attractive - they now have space to move and a party atmosphere prevails. Brian tries to smuggle himself on but with little success. They endure him for an hour in stony silence until he comes slinking back onto our bus with tales of how miserable they all are. Five minutes later their bus overtakes us and we spot they are all laughing, singing and waving. Brian becomes very bitter at this stage and we agree to play 'guess the dictator' to keep him happy. He repays us by then extolling the virtues of the other bus and comparing our buses; he likens them to HBO, whilst we, apparently, are ITV. What cheek. Having by now alienated the entire group we suggest he might prefer to catch a public bus to our next destination. He spends the rest of the journey trying to defend his position but without backing down. Normal service is resumed.

In other news, we are now back on the malaria tablets following a conversation Brian had with another of our fellow travellers back in Vientiane. I came back from a bit of light shopping to find him avidly reading the 'Illnesses and Diseases' chapter in our Lonely Planet book, and making little notes in the margin. Apparently not only could we already have malaria but we probably also have about 15 other illnesses by now. I wrenched the book off him, but it was too late. He's already coughing into handkerchiefs and asking me if he looks pale every few hours. Every dog roaming the streets is a potential rabies carrier, and therefore 'feral', so he tries to keep a good distance between him and any animal, usually one that involves making sure I am standing between him and it. This is apparently because he will be better equipped to run and get help.