Day 133. On a bus, somewhere in the middle of Laos.

OK, that's it, enough already. We're finished with bloody night buses.

This time we went all posh and paid the extra quid for a 'sleeper'. Yes, we had a bed (of sorts). Yes, the bus travelled at night when most people tend to sleep. And yes, we managed to secure the bunk directly above the smelliest bog in Laos.

What's more, the driver thought it would be in the best interests of the 32 Europeans on board to play a DVD until 1am at full blast. Not a DVD any sane European would be remotely interested in mind, oh no, we had to endure the Laos equivalent of a Royal Command Performance including a 30 minute sketch by the Laos Krankies, a similarly protracted effort by some piss-poor mime troupe and a grand finale featuring an oriental Robbie Williams who was every bit as smug and annoying as his British counterpart.

Despite most people on the bus availing themselves of the afore mentioned bog at regular intervals, we were all woken at 3am and ordered into the worst service station this side of Watford Gap for a toilet stop.

Then, at 5.30am the Laos Krankies DVD was dusted off again, just in case any of us hadn't thought it wasn't hilarious enough the first time.

Not good.

Day 132. Don Khone, Laos. The funky gibbon.

Started making a few plans for Vietnam today ably assisted by Steve and Sue.

They have a gallery in Queensland showcasing Steve's pottery which in the past couple of years they've extended to show and sell a range of Vietnamese bits and bobs.

As a consequence, they've travelled extensively throughout the country, building up a network of suppliers and commissioning craftsmen to reproduce some of their designs.

This is great for us, as it means they know Vietnam inside out and have passed on some top notch tips on where to visit and stay. Result!

The other notable friendship we've forged on Don Khone is with Mr.Hoy, the resident gibbon on our resort (do six bamboo cottages constitute a resort?). He pretty much has the run of the place, causing havoc and hilarity at every turn. Wend and Sue were particularly taken with the little chap, tickling his tummy for what seemed like hours and trying in vain to get him to sit still for a photo.

Most amusing.

In the afternoon I finally mustered up the mettle to swim the Mekong.

It looks fairly benign from our balcony, but one of the locals told us it can rise a whopping 10ft during the monsoon and that there's a hefty current no matter what time of the year. Luckily, my perectly honed Johnny Weismuller physique powered me effortlessly to the far bank and back as I barely broke sweat. Fought a couple of crocodiles while I was at it too.


(note to our younger readers: Johnny Weissmuller was the handsome brute who played Tarzan in the original black & white movies)

Hold on a minute...Gibbons? Tarzan? Bamboo? It's like a jungle round here man.

Day 131. Don Khone, Laos. Sunset slip.

Did the bike thing today and managed to cover the whole of the island in a few hours. No hills to contend with, but no paved roads either so it was quite a slog in the afternoon heat.

We've become friends with the Aussie couple in the next hut, Steve and Sue, and met up to cycle to the northern tip of Don Deth to catch the sunset.

A corker it was too, turning the river a bright blood red in its reflection, and after a hard day in the saddle the cold beers we sank while watching tasted especially sweet.

The real fun, however, began on the journey back.

It was only about a 3 mile ride, which ordinarily would've been a breeze. What we didn't account for though, was how dark things can get on an island with no electricity. Progress was slow. Very slow (no roads remember), and came to a complete stop when someone suggested a pit-stop for a beer and rice wine fuel injection.

Moments later we had our first casualty, and inevitably it was Steve who came a cropper. No indication, no inhibition and - crucially - no illumination, ensuring he enjoyed a mouthful of Don Deth dust as hurtled over the handlebars.

Nothing damaged apart from a bit of Aussie pride though, so we limped back across the bridge to celebrate a successful mission with another drink.

Day 130. Don Khone, Laos. Back on the river.

An interesting start to the day when we discovered one of our bus tickets had been double sold.

"No problem sir, wife sit on your knee, I give you refund". Fair enough, it was only a couple of hours and the three quid will come in handy.

Anyway, if Pakse was ridiculous - ridiculously dull - then Don Khone is sublime. It's taken us the best part of two days to reach the southern tip of Laos close to the Cambodian border, but the cold beer and view from our riverside hut has made it all worthwhile.

The Mekong goes a bit mental in this neck of the woods, fanning out into a broad plain some 14 kilometres wide and forming an intricate network of channels, sandbars and islets collectively known as Si Phan Don (Four Thousand Islands).

Our island, Don Khone, sits ominously between Don Sadam and Don Deth, yet a more agreeable place you couldn't wish to find. OK, so there's not a hell of a lot to do other than walk for fifteen minutes to a waterfall, or if really adventurous, hire a bike and cycle over the island's only bridge to stare Deth in the face. But the lack of electricity, noise and aggravation are exactly what we're looking for at this moment in time.

Day 129. Pakse, Laos. A couple of stiff ones.

Long bus journeys, the bain of a backpacker's life. However, unless travelling through a particularly scenic part of the country, it makes sense to use the coolest part of the day to tuck three or four hundred miles under your belt and we're slowly getting used to these overnight slogs.

That said, no passenger ever ends up with more than a couple of hours kip, and I'm yet to see anyone disembark without puffing out their cheeks, rubbing their neck and saying something like "Bugger that for a game of soldiers, if you ever see me near another bus, please shoot me".

Pass the gun Wend, we're booked on another one tomorrow.

Day 128. On a bus, somewhere in Laos.

Cycling was never an option for today's 20 mile trip out to Buddha park, so we dropped off our bikes and picked up a nifty fifty moped.

Built 50 years ago on the whim of a wealthy but hopelessly misguided monk, the park is a curious, mish mash of a place, filled to overflowing with statues and deities drawn from both Buddhist and Hindu faiths.

The idea is laudable enough. You know, world peace, one religion and all that. But the overall effect is a bit of a mess, especially as there doesn't seem to have been much park maintenance going on in recent times.

I mean, Ganesh minus a tusk, a fingerless Vishnu and countless Buddhas covered in poison ivy is hardly the kind of imagery to set an unbeliever's heart racing is it.

A pleasant afternoon nevertheless, and a good opportunity to stretch the old legs before boarding our night bus to the south of the country.