Despite the early evening rain, there was hardly any rainfall during the night. I woke to morning sounds of village life in Asia. Random cries from the chickens. The occasional motorbike, crying children and the soft sweet singing of the women folk as they prepare food with fresh produce bought in the early morning markets.
I showered, even managed a shave in the cold water. After breakfast we left the Many Poon and made our way back through the streets to find a boat for the next leg. First the good news, the boat was running. Secondly the bad news, we were the only passengers and it would cost $60 US. No choice. We had to pay, but noted that suddenly the boat filled with local people and it was safe to assume they paid considerably less, or not at all. Still, $30 each for a day on the river is a good price especially if it helps the local economy.
We boarded the boat and I was intrigued that food preparation was carried out right next to boat.
The cargo that was loaded in the stern ranged from dvd players to pigs trussed up in bamboo baskets. I cast my eyes over the passenger and counted twenty two people. I noticed one girl with sharp cheek bones and stunning eyes. She was in her twenties and was desperately trying to control her son, who I reckoned was a bout two years old. She was losing the battle and judging by the look on her face, the will to live as well! She hit him, but this made matters worse until the boy became exhausted and fell asleep. Another young mother was feeding her baby and I realised that babies in Asia, especially in the villages, do not wear nappies. How the mothers know when their baby is going to wee or poo I don't know.
As we set off under and chugged under the bridge, we entered some rapids, which for a moment made us realise that if this overloaded boat should tip over, we would make the world news. After that early excitement, about ninety minutes later we suddenly stopped. Dave and I had no idea what was going on, but most people got off the boat and sat on bank. It gradually became apparent we had too much weight and the boat was taking in too much water. Eventually a replacement boat arrived, but we couldn't work out how somebody knew to send one. Mobile phones don't work and there was no village to run to. It must have been by message on a boat returning downstream.
Everything was transferred, including the dvd and the pigs, and we set off again. Dave and I found ourselves sat opposite five Akha ladies. Follow this link for more information http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akha_people
They kept staring at my hairy legs and again I realised that staring is a national pastime in Laos. It is an inquisitive, thoughtful and silent stare, which neither gives indication that knowledge is being stored, or simply thinking that 'What on earth is this I am looking at, and I wonder where it comes from'. I could not make eye contact with them and one of the ladies even kept her face covered nearly all the time she was on the boat. I thought she had a cold, but she was probably embarrassed.
Throughout the day, our fellow passengers departed and eventually we had the boat to ourselves. Because of the unscheduled delay, we were travelling as dusk fell and it was touch and go if we have enough fuel. Our best estimate of a five hour journey turned out to be nine hours bordering on epic.
We arrived in Muang Khua as darkness fell, and luckily for us the Nam Ou Hotel was only a few strides across the muddy banks of the river. At $3 US a night, a supply of Beer Lao and tasty veg soup, it was even more convenient.
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