beach

And so, it could be true that laos runs upon Indian non standard time:-D
Slow boat day, which was more of a party day as half of the boat got gassed on beerlao, to the sound of a guitar led trawl through some good stuff...alas the guitar was not mine this time and nor the beerlao...but more of a mood thing than abstention, I think dump some more stuff on Flickr and then a wee blast upon it...the mood is more towards st james infirmary than hard strumming, although safe european home has been bubbling since pai...

And so to Laos. Last night was a dingy room in a border town a few clicks down from the friendship bridge with Thailand. I stayed in a dusty place with a halfhearted row of foodstalls grudged between road and river, a place dated only by cars and wifi; which has a kind of aimless air, the kind of place Philip Marlow might take vacation...finding a looking glass a wise friend explained that I was always slow...

And that thar boat ride..started off late, got confused, got later then busier until a panicked American cries out twas already full to the gunnels, a few more folk, few more minutes, motor bike, last couple of folk...enginesound and reverse gear out into the flowing waters of the Mekong river into laos...a few stops to restock beerlao and meanders through gorgeous landscapes of hills, jungles and unexpected beaches, sequences of igneous rocks carving through the flow and six or seven hours later arriving in the early darkness...a mass of tangles with rucksacks and a lost guitar strap for its bag...rope, needle thread now...and another town, another room...but words drift now and it's good to be on the road again, good to flow downstream upon the trip...and yet...hmm, restless gazing upon me I return to my original question: why do we travel, what do we seek and how will we know when we find it?