Cau Treo, Vietnam - Vientiane, Laos

Fell asleep in the early hours, eventually adjusting to the iron seat, the constant rattling and the sweaty guy wedged in the adjacent seat.

Unfortunately, shortly afterwards the bus pulled to rest and I woke up.

We'd arrived at Cau Treo, one of the three border crossings between Vietnam and Laos. Three points of entry/exit? Obviously relations between these countries are not too warm.

It was twenty to five in the morning and the customs office didn't open until seven. Night gradually lifted, revealing a husk of a building through the morning mist.

High security this wasn't.

Around six a few of the passengers, including myself, stretched our legs and wandered over to the customs building. It wasn't just missing furniture. It was missing doors. Windows. Even walls. We walked through the deserted, concrete-floored rooms and out to the other side. No guards stopped us. We could've walked across the neutral strip of land and straight into Laos.

But we needed our visas.

At five to seven a couple of bored officials sauntered into the building, setting up shop in the one room with a counter. A vague line formed as people got their passports out and thrust them at the officials. In front of me was a young British guy with a head of red hair. He popped his passport on the counter.

"Fifty thousand Dong," said the official. A small sum of money.

"What's that for?" asked the Brit earnestly.

"Visa. Fifty thousand Dong."

"Can I have a receipt, please."

The official looked up from his paperwork, then placed the guy's passport to one side.

"Next."

"Can I have my passport back!"

"Next."

There are times to take a principled stand against corruption. This wasn't one of them. The guy quickly realized he was going nowhere without his passport and began grovelling to the officials to get it back. The rest of us hung around outside, thinking but not saying, how long we right reasonably be expected to wait for him. An hour? Two? All morning? Fortunately he grovelled sufficiently, or more likely, coughed up sufficiently, to get it back and we went on our way to the Laos side where we repeated the process in a better building.

Back on the bus we made our way towards Vientiane following the winding course of a river through rocky terrain. The contrast to Vietnam was immense. I don't think a single soul for hours. There was nobody here.

Or maybe everyone was staying inside after recent events:

Search begins for Laos gunmen

We kept our eyes peeled on the jungle which draped itself over the edge of the road. At one point, after a whole day's driving, with the sun beginning to set, the bus's engine overheated and we had to stop. We got out and played hackey-sack on the highway.

And that was as dangerous as it got, thankfully --- not being mown down by bandits but almost by the traffic.