Settling In

Obelix says Meow

Sabaidee! 

I have a sore bottom.

Explanation to follow shortly.

I have survived my first couple of days in the sauna of South East Asia. Temperatures have remained in the mid-to-high 30s, reportedly hitting 42c on one occasion, and very high humidity. I can wash my hair and it'll still be wet an hour later.

The house has air conditioning, but I spend most of my time outside enjoying the sunshine, the birds and the beautiful butterflies.

Papaya for breakfast, with yogurt,
Thai honey and sesame seeds.

I have an en suite wetroom where I can prance about beneath a cool shower as much as I like. It's also where I wash my clothes. There is a washing machine due later in the week, to replace the one that broke, but it's a comforting return to the Rwanda days. The only difference is that I get through three times as many clothes due to the sweat! 

The sink only has a cold tap, for obvious reasons.

We also have a hammock, which is my new most favouritest thing ever, next to leggings. I'm sorry I dissed them as a fashion choice before. I don't think I could survive without them now. Long tops and leggings - it's the only way to go.

The insect life here is quite incredible. Everything from the butterflies to the beetles are twice the size. The ants are terrifying. There are areas of the garden you have to stay away from as they're very territorial. They're also very noisy. They hang from the mango trees and click menacingly as you walk beneath.

Due to the heat, the trees shed their leaves regularly and Martine and Ruairí spend a lot of time sweeping them up and burning them. You see fires everywhere from people burning the leaves. It causes practical questions though - what do you do with all that ash? Still working on that.

So, the reason for my smarting arse?

My 'friends' have been making me cycle!

My shining steed.

The last time I rode a bike was in Germany three years ago, and then only briefly (and without brakes!). Before that, I hadn't ridden since I was a kid. So this was quite a steep re-learning curve. It really isn't as easy as riding a bike. I had a couple of wobbly practise runs up and down the driveway, then it was out onto the main road!

You'd think traffic and pedestrians would be enough, but it's Pii May - New Year - which is basically when the country decides to have the mother of all water fights! People line up along the streets with buckets of coloured water and supersoakers! You're never too sure when you're going to get drenched.

So far this hasn't happened, but M&R decided to up the ante by taking me for a ride at night down the back streets, which had their fair share of surprise potholes. I am a useless cyclist. I seem to be able to spot lumps of concrete and potholes at twenty paces and then aim right for them.

I also soon discovered how chronically unfit I am - both my thighs and my buttocks were protesting mightily after the first outing, and my face was a waterfall of sweat.

I'm making this sound so appealing, aren't I?

Still, it allows us to do wonderful things like visit the local temple.

Funeral Pyres?

See a house built out of a crashed plane.

And stop off for a refreshing mango and crushed ice drink at the local café, which just about revived me.

I also got my first sight of the Mekong river, from a bar that sold very interesting and undetermined snacks. I opted for some sort of chewy intestine and chicken claws... of which there is a photo to follow. Apparently, when Martine's daughter was here, she tried the boiled eggs, which came complete with semi-formed embryo. You could hear the crunch of bone as she ate!

Mekong River

We were blessed with light rain this evening, and a cool breeze blowing in off the river. The waiters ran to cover us with umbrellas. There are so many smiles here all of the time. You can't help wondering what Europe might have been had it opted for a smiling Buddha rather than an old testament god of death and destruction. Not that Buddhist countries have escaped problems of their own, of course.

Smiles might not always be genuine all of the time, but it's the first response to anything, and you feel so welcome wherever you go. Falang, the Laotian equivalent of muzungu, is just a descriptive, rather than an insult. People are so polite, and especially considerate of cyclists. Happiness is infectious in Laos.

So far we have done a lot of lounging on the porch, smoking menthols (25p a pack! - I guess there is something to be said about the UK tax on tobacco dissuading smokers), drinking refreshing rice beer and sweating.

The cat sums it up perfectly.