Our fellow shipmates boarded the van with us and we were driven the 6 miles to the Thailand Immigration building. That formality completed we proceeded to the Laos side on another bus, crossing the Mekong and approaching the Lao border.
I'm not saying it was like the film "Bridge of Spies" but there is always something daunting about entering a communist country. (We've crossed into East Berlin a few times through Checkpoint Charlie, Lynn and me).
There was a sence of mystery about the officials in Soviet style uniforms, handing over all documents and paying the specified $35 to get in. What it did manage to achieve was pulling our group of complete strangers together as we waited for beuracracy to hurry along. Our motley crew was assembled to drive round to the pier almost opposite Chiang Khong on the Lao side of the river. Aussies, Americans and French plus a smattering of Brits made up our group with one lone Swiss.
We were introduced to our guide, Khamlar, a Lao and as it turned out, very knowledgeable. Welcome drinks and ice cold towels were handed out to all on boarding and soon we were underway on the Nagi of Mekong.
The Nagi was long and narrow, similar to a barge but a bit wider in berth. Itwas equiped with a kitchen and small dining area and we all sat at seats facing each other with tables in the middle - sort of British Rail on water.
Friendships were soon started up and in no time we were all having a good laugh and joke about most things that we had in common. It sort of reminded me of an Agatha Christie novel - Murder on the Mekong, perhaps. It was the vicar that did it!
Our first port of call was to a hill tribe. Nothing at all like the one Lynn and I visited in Chiang Khong, these people had nothing. It was similar to our last village though, we all had a steep climb to negotiate before seeing the village. The children had all rushed down to greet us hoping we'd buy their home made bracelets off them. It was stiflingly hot, I don't believe westerners could live in these conditions for a long time.
The main work for the men in these villages is cutting the teak trees that grow on the steep slopes of the Mekong valley. The women stay at home looking after the children. Only two kids per family can go to school, it's too expensive to send more. Water is provided by UNICEF who have installed stand pipes. They do have electricity and some have a satellite dish to provide entertainment however a man amongst this Mung tribe can have two wives, what more entertainment to you need?
Back on the boat we had lunch, typical Lao fayre but welcome after our exertions up and down the river bank. The cook was the Captain's wife, their son also worked on the boat - they all lived on it as well.
We were all now into this cruising malarkey and took in the views whilst lazily sitting around, having the occasional beer and hanging on as we approached various rapids. The captain's wife saying prayers and throwing rice into the water to appease the Gods. The Meekong was low at this time of year, so the skipper did a great job steering us up river, it's sides becoming steeper and almost like the set of "Apocalypse Now" as we approached our overnight stop of Pak Bang.
We dropped off two of the Aussies, Ted and Dianne at a posher hotel than ours, they had sussed it all out beforehand and knew the score. The rest of us disembarked at the public jetty, daunted at the thought of another climb up to the village and in my case gasping for a cold beer. Led by our guide we assembled at reception, (a small hut), were given more welcome drinks and cold towels then dispersed to our rooms in the Mekong Riverside Lodge.
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