Tales from the river bank.

Setting off upriver was easy and relaxed, it stayed that way for the weeks I spent there too. Accommodation was cheap at about £2.50 a night, there was indeed no internet and electric only ran for three hours each night, plenty of time to charge up the laptop and allow up to six hours of work each day. I make it sound well disciplined but it wasn’t, I spent much more time relaxing than writing. As I devoured book after book it became obvious how deprived of reading material I’d been. What really tipped the scales was a little coffee house/bookshop, so that got plenty of visits from me. My guesthouse was the furthest end of the village, quiet except for the various poultry and a mystery night visitor to the Laos woman next door. Luckily their coupling was neither prolonged nor noisy, I didn’t lose enough sleep to bother moving. (Photo: Along the River Ou - Muang Gnoi, North Laos)

Muang Gnoi itself is the main village on that stretch of the river, there’s little above a cluster of huts within miles of it. Accessible only by boat you’d have thought the noise of traffic wouldn’t be as bother. As there are few boats without engines that isn’t the case, though it’s a far cry from city traffic. It isn’t a developed tourist destination, but there are a couple of hundred bungalows/huts scattered around the village. A couple of establishments have comfy bungalows, in well maintained enclaves, most are only a few huts overlooking the river. Menus are reasonable, having a mixture of westernized Laos food and random items of curry or sweet and sour. The only problem is the lack in choice, almost all the cafes had the same menu, the Indian restaurant was the exception. There was another in Nong Kiew, why would Indian nationals come to Northern Laos to set up a business? Neither seemed as quiet as many of the Laos restaurants though, but I don’t think they’re going to manage early retirement either. (Photo: Fresh cave water - Muang Gnoi, North Laos)

There were kids everywhere, from barely toddling all the way up, rarely with any adult supervision. Siblings took care of each other, not always with good grace. Which makes it sound worse than it actually was, I saw no fractious behaviour from any of them. But the look of determination of one lads face as he cycled like fury to escape the clutches of his wobbly sister. She only wanted to play with her big brother, but for a lad who’s struggling to master his bike without the stabilisers a taste of freedom from her wails was more attractive. The kids we passed in the boat upriver were hilarious. Playing slides down the sandy embankment they stopped to greet us, running to the highest point and waggling their bare arses at us while jiggling up and down. That was the boys anyway, though in all honesty I wasn’t trying to discern their sex. I don’t recall any with long hair, maybe the girls don’t get to play naked in the river. The river’s quite fast flowing, but the kids aren’t shy of it at all. I was assured that all the villagers, both young and old can swim. (Photo: In a paddy over the karsts - Nr Banna, North Laos)

Laos and its people have impressed me, they aren’t necessarily forthcoming but are generally happy enough to acknowledge you and wish you a good day. In the village you could easily go the length of the dirt road without having to wish all and sundry best wishes. But it was common to hear a sweet young voice calling, “Sabai dee,” accompanied with a slight wave and shy smile. No-one gets impatient except the occasional mother with a demonstrative child, and there doesn’t seem much of problem with alcohol fuelled fury. Guys may often have a drink during the day, but I never saw any blind drunk, none sprawled comatose across the street. There isn’t much to do in the area, few ways to make a buck or two. Low level farming, subsidized by fishing, is the traditional way. Tourism brings in the big money. (Photo: Delivery men arriving - Banna village, North Laos)

Like many isolated areas of the world the young want to experience the bright lights, the big city. So there’s a lot of migration to Luang Prabang and Vietiene, if they’re going to college there is no choice but to live in the city. It hasn’t caused a marked reduction in village populations, so many of them come back to their quiet little village and enjoy a more relaxed lifestyle. At the rate of reproduction I’m surprised if the figures aren’t steadily climbing. In a village where the lights go on at 6.30pm and back off at 10pm people have to find someway to entertain themselves in the dark hours. The old enjoy the protection of the extended family, the security of a home and food. It looks like most families share one large, open living space. Almost everything is built from timber and natural materials, the guesthouses generally have a more rustic look that the unimaginative blocks with tin roofs that the locals favour. (Photo: Lowering level on the River Ou - Muang Gnoi, North Laos)

Hiking in the close vicinity to the main village gave a few breaks from reading and writing, a few caves and vantage points made it worth the effort. Banna was a village a couple of hours walk away, in the middle of the paddy fields. And it was in a just such a place where an old lady carefully unwrapped a cloth bundle to reveal some sticks of opium. Smiling sweetly, she slightly raised her eyebrows, a polite and unassuming gesture, simply inviting interest. With detached amusement I gave my head the barest of shakes, placed my hands together and just as politely gave her a firm no. Then she went back to playing with her baby grandchild, oh the simplicity of village life eh? The day before a couple had gone out there and left some exercise books for the kids, I swear the torn pages used by the old guy for smoking the local tobacco were exercise paper. So whatever way you look at it, those exercise books are appreciated out in the sticks. (Photo: Cave cricket - Pha noi cave, Nr Muang Gnoi, North Laos)

The local caves are interesting, the first two I saw were the least interesting, but the third was great. It went in for about an hour walking and had a host of beasties to gawk at. The first were crickets with really long tentacles to feel around in the total darkness. I doubt if they faired very well, they were the low end of the food chain. They would have been easy prey for the spiders and other hunters, one was a kind of short fat centipede with only about twenty legs. Now that was a touch nerve wracking, it was large and moved very fast down the rock face towards me. It looked big enough to take on even the largest of the spiders I saw in there, and that would have covered the span of my hand. A colony of bats were the last of the creatures I discovered. They were hanging far up in the middle of the cave roof, gradually migrating to darker recesses as I blinded them with my torch and flashlight. (Photo: Half a mile in - Pha noi cave, Nr Muang Gnoi, North Laos)

Small wonder I’ve written so little in the last week, I’ve not even done my journal, but the book is done and dusted. Corrections made after the proofread, the epilogue and foreword written, and even the dedication. Which is why I’ve come to the city, so I can use the internet and find the right publishing company. I said ages ago that I didn’t want to self-publish, I wanted to see my book on the shelves of bookshops. At this stage I just want to see it between covers and available, but I must find the right company, which is proving hard to do. One guy sounded great, not the cheapest but a package that suited my ideas. Then I discovered he’d had a pretty vicious list of allegations made against him on the internet. I must say the people brutally attacked him on line, so I’m having serious doubts about using him. In fact I’d be mad to, he does promise a good deal but does he delivery what he promises.