Should have brought more shoes...

Well, it's been a few days, but in that time we've travelled to another far off place, learned a new language, and sanders man-bits have healed up nicely. We celebrated leaving sweet little Pai by popping some gravol and holding on tight, since the same road we headed in on - with it's hairpin turns, and extra nauseating twists - was the same road we headed out on. The bus rolled into it's border town drop-off a mere 8 hours later, and we staggered to bed. Of course, it wasn't 'til morning that we realized we had no idea where we were. No problems there, though, since for every two steps a white person with a backpack takes, fourteen dudes in flip-flops and bad haircuts yell "tuk-tuk?!" ... "where you go?! Tuk-tuk?!" We did the bargaining dance: stand feet shoulder width apart, smile sweetly at your dance partner, shake your head from side-to-side, make hand gestures that don't seem to be too offensive, and pretend to walk away. Works every time.

Border crossing to Loas, no problem. Forced to spend the night in Huay Xi because of the time of our arrival, we shacked up in a cheap place, whose rooftop had an unbeatable view of the mighty Mekong river. Here we marveled in the unforgettable combination that is: Beer Lao + misty pink sunset. With a few postcard-worthy pictures under our belts we packed up early, since like alot of the other suckers, we were told our scenic slow-boat to Luang Prabang departed at 10am. After four coffees, three hours, and two failed attempts at not peeing on my own shoes in the squatter-toilet, our longboat lurched off the sand.

The boat was crammed full of backpackers, and we picked up some locals and their animal cargo along the way. The strange folded mountains, sweeping sand dunes of dry riverbed, and playful local kids kept our cameras at our noses for two days. I sat on the bow of the boat absorbing the scenery and the sunshine, while a 90 year old Loasian man, who spoke no English, hussled Sander in an endless game of cards.

Slaughter