[Updated - the attached picture is now the dog one - see below for description] Well, this is a bit of a culture shock. Laos was a lovely country, pretty laid-back and gentle on the weary traveller. As the time came to leave Laos, though, things started to get interesting... Remember last time I said that this could be some kind of reality TV show and somebody would get voted off? We're now down to 10 people. Cath and Chris have had to go back to England for a week, after Cath's gran died at the age of 88. It's a shame, they were great fun, but they will be rejoining us in a few days. We had a LOOOONG bus journey from Luang Prabang to the homestay, where we slept 5 or 6 to a room (under mosquito nets) in a Laos family's house in the middle of nowhere. They were very welcoming (obviously, Intrepid Travel pay them for the privilege and they get two groups a week to stay) and it was fun sitting on the mats playing with the children. Not good for a long lie, since the roosters who live under the floor start crowing at about 4:30am. On our bus journey we passed a truck full of dogs being transported from Thailand to Vietnam. It's impossible to estimate how many dogs were on the truck, but there must have been at least 4 to a cage, and there were more cages than you could count. It's a toss-up as to what was the most distressing - the sound (we stopped for a photo opportunity, and heard the dogs howling before we could hear the engine), the sight of the wretched things, or the smell once it had gone past. Once I've got my camera attached I'll stick some pictures up. After seeing the conditions in which they're transported, I certainly wouldn't be too keen to try dog meat. The next day was an even LOOOOOOOOOOONGER bus journey to Vietnam (thankfully, my fresh Visa wasn't a problem) where we were treated to a crash course in Vietnamese driving. As in Laos, they drive on the right. Or the left. Or the middle. Or the pavement. Our bus journey from the border to our first hotel involved careering down windy mountain roads that would do The Italian Job proud. When we got to the main road (single carriageway) we passed motorbikes carrying a bewildering assortment of random articles - crates of life ducks and chickens, two 10-foot logs, a couple of pigs... This was all passing us by, though, as we began to appreciate the difference in driving style. Having been taught the "mirror-signal-manouvre" school of motoring, the "horn-manouvre-horn-horn" version takes some getting used to. If a vehicle wishes to pass another, it jams on the horn and moves out. If something is coming the other way, it jams on its horn and gets out of the way. It's absolutely crazy, and cars and motorbikes veer at you from all possible directions. Seems to work, though, I haven't seen any crashes yet. The switch from Beer Lao (very nice) to Hanoi Beer (almost as good) has gone reasonably smoothly. After the craziness of the first day in Vietnam, the next was a total contrast - our group had a boat chartered to go out into Halong Bay. We went to visit the caves, then had a bit of swimming and kayaking. The swimming, naturally, involved jumping off the top of the boat into the water. This was a drop of about 16 feet, and like the waterfall it was easier the first time (before you had a chance to think about it). A bit of a swim followed, during which our resident water-disaster-magnet Claire was stung by a jellyfish. Then there was a chance to take a two-person kayak into a lagoon on one of the islands. We stayed on the boot that night, moored in Halong bay. The fridge was well-stocked, and we have managed to find a theme song for our trip. Sadly it's not exactly what you'd call tasteful, so best not read the next bit if you're likely to be offended... Out of our group (after two English people vanished temporarily) I seem to share my tastes in music mostly with Sam/Jesus. Nobody else had heard of the Welsh rap group Goldie Lookin' Chain. So once Veronique's speakers had been set up and Sam and I had rescued everyone from reggae and the Black Eyed Peas, I felt bound to put on the Chain's magnum opus, "Your Mother's Got A Penis". Many other songs were played that night, as we got extremely drunk on the boat and sang along, but everyone seems to agree that the trip will be defined by "Your Mother's Got A Penis". Strange how these things work out. We're now in Hanoi, although we leave on an overnight train in just over an hour (so I'll be brief here). Saw the water puppet show (I guess you have to be able to say you've seen it, although you could probably live happily forever more if you don't) and Uncle Ho, i.e. Ho Chi Minh's enbalmed body lying in a tastefully decorated casket. Hanoi driving makes the roads in Bangkok look like Bridge of Allan. Most vehicles are motorbikes, and crossing the road is an exercise in faith. You just have to keep walking and assume that none of them are going to hit you. It'll be a struggle to re-adjust next time I'm in a less mad country. Best go now, I have to buy some drink for the train.