Alarm goes off at 3:20am. I wouldn't say I had a great nights sleep, with slight deafness in one ear still, I kept waking just in case I slept in. When I saw Craig, he was exhausted. Not a wink of sleep. Just outside his room there is a large dip in the floor, which may as well have been electrodes on his nipples.
Bleary eyed we jump in the taxi, the Indian chap on morning shift cursing his rotten luck. The airport at KL hasn't woken up. On the security check, I beep and the girl let's me through.
First time that's happened. We sit and have breakfast, checking online for accommodation in Vientiane. Craig dozes and I find a couple of options. When I booked the flight I got a free upgrade to Premium flex. Could choose our seats, free meal and are being treated like royalty. All rather amusing for a budget airline but makes a change for a backpacker (LT)
Touch down in Vientiane after a 2.5 hour flight. Immigration requires another form filled in and a passport photo. We exchanged our ringet at KL airport for US dollars and now change it to Kip. The $100 dollars giving me a small fortune of 880000 kip. We grab a taxi to the Backpacker Garden, the route to the hostel showing a quiet low level city. We are greeted by Janny, our charming Vietnamese host, the building and grounds decked out in murals adds a nice warmth to the place. Janny is all smiles and gets us both a pancake and water. Not humid but the hottest place so far so the gift is welcomed. Only one room is ready so I leave Craig to sleep and I go explore. Street upon street of car part, fans and furniture.
A very sociable hostel and speak to a South African from Durban. Comes back and forward from Chang Mai to renew her visa for a teaching position there. She talks about the mess South Africa is in and how reverse racism will bring it to boiling point. A 63 year old Australian called Evon starts talking to me. She doesn't hold any punches with her conversation. Her son was murdered in September. Two guys were banging on his car. He stepped out and was shot 22 times. Evon was travelling in Panama at the time and told her kids she would be off the grid for a few days staying at a beach hut on a small island. When she returned her phone went into overdrive with the news. 6 flights later she got back to Australia. Since then she has given up her life and started travelling. She shows me a tattoo of a bird on her arm with a poem about her son. A lovely lady from Queensland, covered in tattoos but the only one she will ever get on her arm. Evon is planning to go to Nepal to volunteer helping with the recent earthquakes. Her future for the next few years is to travel and see the world.

My room is ready and I move my bags in. A truckload of mosquitoes welcome me. Clapping my way round the room I slay many of the nasty beasts. The wall is adorned with previous backpacker trophies. Mosquito net takes a while to set up with very little to attach it to.
Craig heads off to a temple for meditation, at the very least maybe the monks can cure his cold.
I spend some time online with O2 to get my phone unlocked. With decent WiFi its a much easier task. I speak with Mum and Dad on Skype, quality good enough for video and I see Craig meandering back. I say my goodbyes and we walk to the night market which turns out to be a 10 minute walk. There are a wider range of bars and places to eat on route and at the promenade there is a night market. Lots of stalls selling clothes, trinkets and phone covers. On the empty road kids play with remote controlled cars, whilst group aerobics take place with fitness more palatable at this time. On the dried Mekong a motorbike course has been built with a few locals traversing the ramps and twisting corners. We walk through the market, balloons on sale between the stalls and wander into the small park area. There is a real family vibe to the area and reminds me of an English Riviera town 30 years ago. Same Same, but different as is so often heard in this part of the world. Western influences have not taken hold here yet and with no McDonalds to be seen, the people seem healthy and happy. We find a caravan parked along side the road with tables laid out. For just over a pound I get duck and pork with rice. My dish comes with a small spring onion soup that is more refreshing than it looks. Craig goes for wheat Noodle soup with chicken. A great dinner and amazing what you can get for so little.
Meandering round the corner we find a small bar with a pool table. Craig's exhaustion has him on soft drinks but I dive into the local beer 'beer lao'. Similar to the Cambodian lager and pretty good.
We start playing pool and I have to pay the bar 3000 kip after losing. Craig is on a winning streak that makes him hard to beat. Whilst he plays I chat to an older Swedish gent who advises me to head as far North of Laos as possible. Incredible scenery from his description. I start speaking to a rather miserable English gent called Alex who has been in the country for a year. We chat for awhile and he offers to show me some decent places to go out. Craig is finally beaten both at pool and in energy so heads home. I jump on Alex's moped and head along the waterside to a bar which is out of the way. Heading up a few flights of stairs it opens into a spacious wood decked bar with a great view of the Mekong. Pretty much full of hookers, expats and backpackers. We sit at the bar and getting any cheerful conversation out of Alex is proving a challenge. He is a chef and worked at a resort. He tells me he's an alcoholic which may explain why he is no longer working. How he maintains his relationship with a Lao girl is a mystery. I chat to a French guy who works for the Government here with Customs. Oddly all the chicken is imported from Brazil, which is as stupid as New Zealand lamb in London. Disturbingly they are dunked in some chemical once they arrive. Alex is mumbling about a hatred for French. I suggest heading to the pool table. By this time I'm getting a little bored with Alex and the perpetual raincloud hovering over him. A Californian guy called Ritchie starts chatting regaining some sunshine. A cherry guy who is a keen surfer and instructor. He had been teaching in Indonesia. His friend comes over and knows a thing or 2 about Scottish whiskey. We chat and drink until the bar closes. In Laos bars close early. Not sure what time it is but no later than midnight which is a good thing. A hangover in this heat would be a challenge. I grab a tuk tuk and head home.