Waking up to monsoon rain, I sit and watch it until the storm breaks momentarily, in the sky, but not in my head. I was drunker last night than I've been in years. The mad dutchmans whiskey proving my downfall. The Brazillian girl and her boyfriend had kindly escorted me back to my hostel (Meexai). If I see them again, I will indeed thank them. I won't however be thanking the Dutchman. The main high street is short, even shorter when you don't want to get wet. I find an Indian restaurant that appears open. Nothing in this town either looks open or it runs at a pace close to cryogenic sleep. I will explore today but I am starting to hear Vietnam calling and the increase in rain is a little frustrating here. The high mountains are a magnet for the steady downpour. Some towns up north are either inaccessible by road, requiring a boat or a 10 hour bus journey that may leave me marooned trying to cross the border. The hostel I'm staying at has spectacular views and I sit and watch the rain. Chickens shelter from the downpour that seem to wander where they like. I contemplate where I'm going to travel next. My visa for Vietnam starting tomorrow. I know I will be crossing at Ban Thai and a boat should take me north.