The end of my trip is quickly approaching. I’m in Vientiane now–perhaps Southeast Asia’s sleepiest capital–grabbing a day of rest and editing at a local coffee shop. Guesthouses with wifi are apparently pretty sparse here in Laos. Anyway, my initial impressions of the city are quite good. It’s got a lot of character but still feels like some sort of half-assed job from the French colonies. Like no one ever really cared enough. Like it was always last on the to-do list. In a good way. Look in any guidebook for an apt set of adjectives to describe it. I’ll spare you here.
The images above are from the four-hour journey down from Vang Vien. All of the buses out of town for the morning were full and such was our desperation to be rid of all the happy shakes and hangovers and general backpacker ennui (them not us) that we chartered a local pick-up truck at the bus station to bring us down to the capital. We picked up strays along the way. Transported buckets of iced-down fish for a few towns. Delivered a table and set of chairs and gave a chain-smoking monk a lift for the majority of the drive as well. It’s always fun to go local.
The writer and I will be finishing up a few travel stories over the next two days. Then it’s back to home sweet Hanoi.
from swerve of shore 
There’s an expression describing the three regional ‘types’ which goes something like – “The Vietnamese grow the rice. The Khmer watch the rice grow. And the Lao listen to the rice grow.”
That always seemed about right.
Jamie, I think I’ve heard that expression before. Apt it is.
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