The Canadians have become some of my best buddies. We've picked up each other's mannerisms over the last three weeks and all of us have formed a tightly knit group very naturally. It's tempting to think that's just the way it is out here, that meetings become friendships very quickly, but truly these guys have proven special. We laugh all day long and keep things happy when times get tough.
Bentley and I have had a tough few days. Physically we're all knackered but what is affectionately known as "the bullshit back home" has become a drag for the two of us. Whilst Bentley toiled trying to access his bank account via Vietamese customer services, I found out that reorganising your flight home is not as easy as I was led to believe. A day of bullshit later, and a night of lao lao inspired ideas and our options seem settled.
Arun and I left Vang Vieng with Harriet, Steven and Bentley on a roasting hot morning, all of us still wasted from the previous night - another QBar romp with the 50 or so aquaintances we'd met around the town. I dropped the beer i bought for the bus when i fell asleep for the first time in 30 hours, the mardy German girl behind me complaining to my deaf ears. When i woke up after our first pit stop, I put my headphones in and there they remained for the rest of the journey. The music inspired a wave of emotion in me. I grabbed Arun, Bentley and Steven's hands and told them how much I was going to miss them all. A month or so ago Rich had mentioned that the journey aspect of travelling was one of his favourite bits and I completely agree; bonds become stronger when you suffer through half a day in uncomfortable seats; the times when you're not talking allow the dust cloud in your mind to settle and new ideas and perspectives to form, leaving you smiling and inspired.
Harriet directed us towards SpicyLaos, a dorm guesthouse in the small but busy town of Luang Prabang that has one of the best backpacker vibes any of us have encountered yet. It's an old lodge that is all wooden floors and no shoes indoors. The family who run the place play around all day in the courtyard, challenging guests to pool and ping-pong. By day it is perfectly acceptable to sit around on your laptop chilling and chatting and reading books. By night, everyone sits and has a laugh on the balcony, knowing that the next morning you're all going to wake up in the same room and not feel like strangers any more. On our arrival we were all still battered, but we dragged ourselves down to the riverside for some posh eats and a few rounds of shithead.
The next night we all had a little bit more energy and some stupendous appetites, making the night market here an obvious choice. You cram yourself on to a wooden bench with your 10,000kip ($1.20) plate of buffet food and try to strike a conversation up, but this proves difficult because everyone is quickly stuffing themselves full of rice and noodles. Steven, Bentley and I joined a girl from the hostel called Sophie for a wander round the market proper, another dazzling array of coloured fabrics and handicrafts. I don't think i'll ever get bored of Asian night markets. Then it was on to the lao lao vodka, the only drink that can give me my voice back at the moment by means of a swift kick in the chest with each neat gulp. This inspired a fantastic night's chatting to anyone who joined us, as well as plenty of acknowledgments between us and the Canadians that "you guys are some of the best guys i've ever met."
At 4p.m. today, opening of business in England, I'll begin arranging my way home. Then, tonight, we're reuniting with Rory, Graham and the Canadian girls for what might be my last or penultimate night with the gang. There's a lot of people doing exactly what we're doing out here, it's something that a big proportion of our generation will share, but nobody has the same experience. It's been a beautiful time, unrivalled in my life and shared with my best friend and my cousin. For reasons other than practicalities, leaving will not be easy.
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