From the Muddy Banks of the Mekong

New country, new type of tuk-tuk. Whereas the Thai tuk-tuks were kind of like pimped up milk floats and the Cambodian tuk-tuks were motos with a trailer, these bad boys are the midpoint between a Robin Reliant and a climbing frame.

So yeah, I'm in Laos. In Vientiane (can't seem to say it without sounding a bit Liam Gallagher) and it seems to be modelling itself on Ljubljana rather than any of the more local capitals. By which I mean it's pretty far removed from the neon sleaze of Bangkok or the bazooka-a-cow bonkersness of Phnom Penh. By which I mean it's more Cheltenham than London. By which I mean I snap-judged it to be boring.

Kudos should be given to Vientiane for having Pha That Luang. After a couple of hours of dreary meandering through mediocre nothingness it was a treat to stumble across something so ferociously ostentatious. BigGoldPyramidtastic.

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I left Dan last in Bangkok last night. We completed the journey with an hour or so to spare. Cakewalk (although we did have to spend more time than was pleasant in Poipet, the moth-eaten, Cambodian border town).

Guess it's going to be weird travelling on my own again for the first time since Chile. Equally, I guess it's pretty weird that I've spent three months (over nine countries and two continents) travelling with someone who I met less than six months ago.