The People's Democratic Republic of Laos

SPANIEL KILLER

My grandma used to say to me, 'No sooner have you lost one Dan than you find another in an Indochinese night market.'

I finally understood what she meant when, wandering among the stalls of Luang Prabang, I was approached by Daniel Miller. We had lived round the corner from each other through our formative teenage years, travelled to and from school together every day, and even had the occasional conversation. You don't get much closer than that. Neither of us had known the other was in Laos. I naturally had to fire two of my communications team, which means my having to write this post myself. In fact Dan and I had planned to meet in Hong Kong in about a month. But there we were face to face on a dusty brown street lined with fine fabrics and ceramic Buddhas. Later we discovered we were staying on the same little alley in opposite guesthouses. Fate has a backpack, and it's full of flowers.

Dan had collected a large group of people, like a good boy. In Luang Prabang (or 'lung problem' - D. Berelowitz) the tourists actually do come in by the boatload. Every day one may see large groups of people chatting and eating together like old friends or members of an apocalypse cult - they have all travelled together for two days on the same hard wooden benches. It creates a sense of shared destiny. In his collection Dan had some Italians, Germans, Dutch, Danish and Irish. He is planning to exhibit them in Earl's Court.


THE CAT AND THE FROG

I said goodbye to Cameron the Ozzie over a beer as we walked downside the Mekong. It was late and most places were shut up in accordance with the Government's dictat. We were quarrelling over the exact meaning of 'ignorant' when we noticed a grand double door lit up with flourescent strip lights.

In the globe of light were hundreds of moths. Not sturdy British style moths but flimsy ones with bright orange plastic bodies and tan wings that fall off at the slightest provocation. They were out in force. Perhaps they were only alive for a day. Certainly they were dying profusely. The light itself was clouded with the living. On the floor, the concrete step was carpeted with wings and moths in their death throes, vibrating wildly as they desperately guzzled their last sips of Life.

Among the half dead and the fully dead was a cat. The cat hugged the door, walking backwards and forwards and stuffing it's face with pawfuls of moths. It had wings sticking out from its mouth. It barely even toyed with them. It was like the unconscious movement of a fat man's hand travelling from pretzel dish to mouth as he watches the football.

Working alongside the cat was a large frog. The frog began in the thick of it, but moved down a few steps to the outskirts. These were the stragglers and the hopeless, fallen down horribly far from the light that drives them crazy with instinctive desire. The frog was chowing down. His belly sagged on the floor as he stood in front of a flightless moth buzzing on the floor. He'd stand with immense gravitas for a few seconds - waiting for something? - and then WHOOP - the insect would fly into his mouth as if sucked up by a powerful vacuum. The tongue was invisible - too fast.

The frog must have eaten about 30 moths while we stood there. The cat possibly an even tally. Who knows how many they'd eaten before we even arrived? We had the sense we were watching an experiment unfold. Humans had put the light and the cat there, the moths blindly chased a moon and the frog was an opportunist. The blindly wild moths came on and on and the feast continued. I felt blessed.


TURNOVER

People come and people go. Most travellers have a bold sense of Itinerary. Mine grows paler and more flaccid by the day. I ended up staying in LPB for a WEEK. Such a timeframe is abhorrent to your average backpacker. I spit in their figurative face - it is charming. I want to stay everywhere but now I have Daniel spurring me on with puppy-like zeal.

Cameron and lovely Iris and Hester from Holland moved on from LPB like good travellers. I stayed like a bum. Hannah from Bangkok and Chiang Mai turned up with her friend Emma. They are wonderful drinking partners. Hannah and I made it to some disappointing caves crammed with broken Buddhas. Less disappointing was the luxury boat we cheeked our way onto back to the city. It had been commissioned by three Austrailian hotel execs, and was filled with comfortable seats and wine that were lying unused. Down the Mekong in style this time.

I would consider myself an expert on Luang Prabang's toilets thanks to the Diarrhoea fairy. I exceeded 15 times in one day for which I think I deserve some kind of civic award.


BIG JUGS

This chapter will have to wait, along with the one after, which doesn't even have a title yet.


HOW I CRUSHED DAN'S RESOLVE

Dan had intended to go straight from Vientiane to Bangkok and onwards to the islands. Until he met me. With satanic persuasiveness I convinced him to accompany me to Siem Reap to see the famous Angkor Wat, jewel of the Angkor Empire and Wonder of the World. In fact, we are about to take two 12 hour bus journies back to back to get there. Wish me luck and a bag of valium.