Udomxai - Luang Nam Tha

Robust, funny, and alcoholic: Poles make great travelling companions
The usual bus horrors compounded the journey to Luang Nam Tha, but it was somewhat relieved by the appearance of two plucky Poles. Because there were no free seats, they had to stand in the aisle, which allowed me to chinwag with them.

Coming from a relatively poor European country, Maciek and Thomas have been taking the real budget route: a huge overland route through Russia, Tibet, Burma, and China. Their non-nonsense approach and happy demeanour made the last hour of the ride fly by -- no tales about the best beaches or DJs or clothes, these guys were bollock deep in human rights, Communism, Dalai Lama and child trafficking. Okay, I made that all up as my journal doesn't record what we talked about. Needless to say, it was all great shit.

In Luang Nam Tha, at a guesthouse opposite the bus station we found a three-bed room for a dollar each. We didn't hesitate. Freed from our packs, we took a stroll before deciding it was time to find a bar. (Poles may not be the richest people, but that doesn't stop them being one of the world's chief pissheads).

The only place open that early was an alfresco restaurant that an hour earlier had been jam-packed with dozens of people. Since the tables were mainly empty now, we wondered whether they were still serving. One table was left with six or seven communal dishes, traditional Laos food still uneaten.

"Can we eat," I asked one of the waitresses.

"No problem," said the woman.

We watched her wind her way over to the table stacked with lukewarm food. Where were the menus? She came back carrying three of the dishes. It was then we realized we'd gatecrashed the end of a private party and were being offered the leftovers. Too embarassed to walk out after this show of generosity, we picked at the food, hoping we might be given Beer Lao to wash it down with.

None was forthcoming.

Apparently it was National Women's Day -- a day celebrated in many Socialist countries. What that woman thought of three men intruding and demanding food, I don't know, but after a suitable amount of time, we slunk away to another, genuine, restaurant.

Here we did get beer, and the night flashed by -- partly because the town only has electricity until ten. We stumbled home in the darkness, somehow able to find the guesthouse. In bed, I fell asleep instantly, waking up much later when I was dying for a slash. More difficult than you might imagine. No light and no familiarity with the layout of the room. With all the noise I made, I wouldn't have been surprised if Maciek or Thomas thought I was some wideboy Brit out to rob them while they slept.

Luckily they were too pissed to notice.

Men are scarce on National Women's Day