LAO - Don Det (written from Kratie, Cambodia. Thursday 4th April 12.30pm)

If you are going to manage to lock your passport in a Western Union and notice after it has closed for the weekend, only 2 hours before you have to leave on a bus, then do so on the last Friday month when there are still people in the bank cashing up and make sure you are in Lao where people will move heaven and earth to help you... You might have guessed that I speak from experience. Milka and I had a rather exciting 2 hours last Friday in Vientiane while we charged around frantically trying to find someone to get my bloody passport out of the Western Union where I'd changed travellers cheques earlier that day. Amazingly some kind people, working at another bank, managed to find the man who locked up, got him out of his evening class and he arrived beaming 15 minutes later with my passport. Jabbering gratefully I distributed Beer Lao money and we shot off into the night to catch our bus, stopping to grab some much needed Beer Lao for ourselves too. Few! Silly Katie.
I am a firm believer, however, that you can never enjoy total tranquillity before you've experienced a bit of drama and the 4,000 Islands really were blissful. We arrived on Saturday after a long night bus journey, under slept due our driver's tendency to turn the lights on and blare out horrific Lao pop music at random intervals and generally travel worn after being shifted from bus to bus to pick-up truck and finally boat. Finally we staggered up the sand bank and collapsed in the shade gasping.
Don Det is one of the southern islands and is joined by an old and rather incongruous railway bridge (courtesy of the French) to Don Kon. The Mekong was blue, the sand was white and the trees offered just enough shade to cool us as we swung leisurely in hammocks. You can maybe see why I've been off radar for a while...
Milka and I spent a lovely couple of days reading, cycling, exploring and sipping fruit shakes and Beer Lao in the shade. Remarkably, for such a tiny island, Don Kon has the largest waterfall in South East Asia which can be found if you are feeling energetic enough to brave the heat and cycle over the railway bridge, stopping every few yards for a cold drink (and force the chain back on a rather rickety bicycle). But for the most part we did big fat nothing. Milka left on Monday and I spent Tuesday doing more of just that.
On Wednesday I stirred myself together and hopped on the bus to Cambodia where I am now.
My heart sank when, a few miles away from the river, our minibus swerved off the road and plunged along a dirt track deep into the woods. Surly this can not be the boarder crossing! Thankfully, it was. Really, sometimes you are aware of how at the mercy of your guides you actually are, but if you didn't trust anyone you'd never get anywhere. So we crossed the boarder, with only a minimal bribe, and a paved road was waiting for us to sweep us into Cambodia.

Cambodia: Land where anything is possible if you are willing to pay for it. I began to hear rumours in Thailand that in Cambodia, if you were so inclined, and able to pay a token $500 you could blow up a cow with a rocket launcher. At first I thought it might be a ridiculous rumour, would they have enough people interested to make such a venture worth while? As I travelled I repeated this rumour, only to have it mirrored by plenty of people who had heard the same thing, some of whom where busily counting their money with excited gleams in their eyes.
On my last night on Don Det I finally met someone who had done it. Well, it had been a goat - a bit cheaper you see - however, not content simply to blow something to smithereens, he went one step further and decided to do it naked. I know this because, you've guessed it, he had a photo. So I found myself gawping at a photo of this guy, rocket launcher on shoulder wearing nothing but a pair of ear muffs and a smile, with 2 giggling Cambodian prostitutes hiding his modesty. You can imagine that I was edging away from him at this point...

So yes! Here I am in Cambodia. I haven't been offered a rocket launcher yet but I haven't given up hope yet.
In fact, my first impressions are only positive. I am in Kratie, a little market town, slightly shabby but still pretty, with a market in the centre of a piazza surrounded by European-style buildings with little balconies.
Last night, in the bar, we were the source of much hilarity for the waiter. "You all have such big noses!" He giggled pointing to his own button-nose. "Europeans, very funny."
We spent the morning floating about staring at Dolphin's fins in the Mekong and splashing about in the rapids with our motor taxi drivers who made us flower wreaths for our hair and gallivanted about in the waves giggling good humourdly at us and each other. They all seem so cheerful! Amazing really, considering their all too recent history.
Tomorrow I have a 6 hour bus journey to the capital, a mixture I'm told of old colonial charm and a den of iniquity. I'm intrigued...