I've got the runs and I've got to run

That was the title that I would've used if I had written an entry first thing this morning; it was too good not to use now. The title concisely describes how I began this Friday here in Laos. My ass was explosive, creating a hazmat situation in two separate toilets at Viradesa. And Paul and I once again left one place to go to another new one.

We left Luang Prabang on a scheduled 9am mini-bus that actually departed at about 9:15am, so I could unload in the main toilet at Viradesa guesthouse, while the group of six other travelers waited for me. The bus ride was a solid six hours, with two pitstops at about the one-third and two-thirds points. Because Paul and I were the last two to get onto the minibus we were stuck having to ride shotgun -- normally a good thing, but in this case not so much so. I sat in the middle of the front bench seat, right next to the driver, so that every time he shifted to third gear, he was jabbing me in my left thigh. Paul was squeezed up against the passenger door in order to make room for my legs, which necessarily had to face away from the stick-shift. It was a difficult six hours, with pins and needles and also cramping in our muscles. I was so tired from last night, though, that I was in and out of sleep for a good part of the ride.

When I was awake, there were many observations to be made. The road from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng is not particularly long, but it winds and twists and bends through some high mountain terrain, thus making the trip much longer than it would seem on paper. The scenery looked very much like it does in the Vietnam war movies: high, limestone mountains rising straight up out of the ground, interspersed by rice paddies and open fields. The road, once again, was quite stereotypically Third World: wooden shacks on small stilts built right next to the road; more little kids running around naked than you can count; cows, water buffalo, pigs, and even ducks with ducklings walking idly along the side of the road -- or in the case of some cows, in the middle of the road; the road itself so beat up and potholed in places that the driver drove just as much on the shoulders than on the actual road.

We finally pulled in to the new bus station on the outskirts of Vang Vieng at 4pm. From there, I somehow convinced Paul, along with a British couple: John and Jenny, to walk into town -- like authentic backpackers -- instead of hiring a tuk-tuk for the umpteenth time. The 3km walk into town wasn't too bad; I passed the time by talking with John. He told me that he and Jenny quit their jobs back in the UK to come backpacking for a solid 6 months; they'll keep going until the beginning of February.

Paul and I checked into Pan's Place right on the main strip in town. Our room is in a modest bamboo bungalow, with mattresses on the floor, and geckos running on the wall (I told Paul that they're our friends because they eat insects and save us 10% or more on car insurance). This place will be our first experience with a shared toilet/shower; Paul was a bit reluctant but I told him it would be a good way to meet other travelers. We both liked the fact that there's internet right here on the premises and a television room upstairs, fully stocked with tons of movies on dvd. So that's where we stand now.

Tomorrow we'll go tubing down the Nam Kong River; it should be an awesome experience, but I won't ruin the reader's surprise by telling you why this town is packed with backpackers and exactly why the tubing will be a kick-ass experience. You'll just have to check back, ya heard?

To be continued . . .