When I saw the Mekong River my heart skipped a beat. I knew that this was the beginning of a great journey. It took less than two minutes to get stamped out of Thailand from the town of Chang Khong. Looking across the river and getting in a simple boat, a sense of adventure overtook me. I was going to Laos from the nortwestern part of Thailand. The town of Ban Hui Xay was just across the river. In less than 60 seconds we were on the other side of the Mekong and walking up the ramp to the Laos immigration office. Filling out forms we had to buy from them, they sold us KIP the local currency. The town was just a few streets and I shared a room with an Irish bloke named John in a hotel on the main street. The evening meal was found looking around the town for a place that had fresh food. Speaking Lao is much like Thai so I was able to get by, order food and buy some things.

The next day was the beginning of the real adventure. At 7 am my crazy Irish friend and I took a transport to the bus station. All of a sudden we became part of a group of 10 foreigners. Everyone was going to Long Nam Tha, a town about 120 kms north. After purchasing a ticket for 30,000 kip ($5) we waited about 30 mins and then were all told to pile into a 1944 Russian transport with wooden benches and room for rice bags, backpacks and many locals. At times there were more than 32 people on or hanging from this truck in the next two days. The cargo contained at least 500 to 1000 pounds of rice, in bags at our feet. Our travels took us to many villages and the smiles and waving did not stop. "Sa-ba-dee" echoed everytime we passed a village. Kids came running and would keep up with the vehicle yelling "sa-ba-dee" while we grinded our way north. Mothers would laugh while babies cried and we would be in a timewarp in slow motion. All of a sudden we would jerk to a halt, and wait for a 300 pound pig to move its sagging belly across the road. Life in Laos was slow and there were no road signs, advertisements, factories, fast food chains or traffic on this journey. Most rides were from 4-12 hours and the roads were dirt tracks or mud. Friendships were made during these journeys and many sore butts too.

The average speed that the old russian truck did was no more than 18 kms/hr. A person on a mountain bike could have traveled faster than we did. Village huts would pop up on the side of a curve and there would be twenty or so houses along the mud track. Dogs would bark, water buffalo slowly changed their gaze, chickens scratched and the goats would move over at the last possible second when they saw our monster green truck. All of the animals seemed to be in tune with the people and nature in general. As the turkeys gobbled in unison and pigs snorted, they would move just enough to let us pass everytime. The day got very long and the vehicle broke down more than a few times. Our driver, a true mechanic always fixed it and we had many times to get out and see the jungle. Some of us found trees that needed watering.. Sharing food with the locals and chatting with the foreigners we kept busy while waiting for our vehicle to get back on the track. After this happening we all became good friends.

At around 4 pm after a long day of posterior bouncing we entered a village with two guest houses. One had 5 rooms built of bamboo all part of one building. The other with only two rooms. At this point we realized our 8-10 hr journey was to take another day. Happy to walk on land and to stop in the middle of nowhere we paired up and moved our packs and stuff into this place. Soon some of us took a walk in the village and met some of the locals. With toothless smiles and raggedy clothes the children were not the least bit shy and were playing in the streets or had small tables set up selling some kind of food. Curious we tried some of their rice/goo/hot sauce treat that was wrapped in a banana leaf. Several of us really liked it. For 100 kip you could not go wrong (6000 kip=$1). The sun was disappearing behind the hills and many of the villagers were doing their laundry on the riverbank. Most were teenage girls doing the family clothes. They would soak them in the river, soap them up real well and then beat the daylights out of them. Many girls at once would be doing this chore and the thuds from the riverbank echoed on the hills as their days work came to an end. The last rays of the sun filtered through the mountain cracks. We were truely in the middle of Laos..somewhere way out there.

Our place for the evening also had a small generator in a bamboo hut. Suddenly a 50 watt bulb hanging on bare wire lit up our dining area and then they asked us if we wanted Beer. A rash of red smiles filled the room glowing as bright as the bare bulbs and cold beers were opened for The 10 Travelers.