Pak Beng is a one horse town. We docked (if you can call it that) at dusk, our boat muscling its way in between other boats to the sounds of tortured timbers and local shouts and cheers! Then we had a mad race to find a room before all the best ones had gone. There was a precarious walk across the gangplank to the shore and then an arduous scramble up the steep sand dune that was the riverbank. Sharon made it all the way to the top before tripping on the very last step and going face down into the sand!

It wasn't as much of a problem as we had been lead to believe and being at the front of the boat all day meant we were some of the first off. Sharon found us a very good room, probably the best in town and at a good rate too. We dropped our bags and freshened up before venturing out into the night for some food.

There is only the one street in Pak Beng, from the river back up the hill toward what I guess is just the jungle. The river is the only form of transport here, so everything comes either from up or down stream. We decided on (of all things) an Indian restaurant where Stephen had a surprisingly good Tikka Massala with cheesy naan. It was bewildering to get such a meal in so strange and remote a setting. I guess it is just a sign of the numbers of western tourists that have trodden this route.

At 10.30pm the generators went off and that was it for everyone. Bedtime wether you want it or not. We had managed a warm shower (9pm-10pm only) and so retired to a far more comfortable bed than anything in Thailand, well fed and satisfied.

Morning brought more fog but it soon cleared and after getting some supplies for the day ahead and a Lao tea made with sweet milk and ginger, we headed down to the boat for the next mad scramble for seats. You had to walk the plank again and one person in particular fell off, only saving himself from the Mekong by lurching for the posts that formed the doorway of the boat. He hung on until someone could help him untangle his bags and drag him onboard.

We were not so lucky with the seats on this second day, having to settle for narrow wooden benches with no leg room. Thank goodness we had bought cushions at Chiang Khong, at least the day would be bearable! We had a rougher time as the river was far more turbulant further down. The water nearly came over the sides on a few occassions. We didn't feel altogether safe at these times, but like everyone else we tried to laugh it off as part of the experience! (We're all gonna die! ha ha)

The second day on the river was just as scenic as the first and we chatted and watched as laos slowly slipped by. The second boat kept breaking down so towards the end of the day they lashed the two boats side by side and we covered the last hour to the sound of more tortured timbers and what felt like a certain degree of flexing of our vessel!

Thankfully Luang Prabang appeared in the distance as night closed in and we dragged our crippled buttocks to the nearest guesthouse that looked clean and collapsed.