A six legged flashbacks from the past...

My last two weeks in Laos took me and my childhood arch nemesis north to Muang Ngoi, a little village surrounded by other little villagers. Who or what was this childhood arch nemesis, you say? What noun dares rival this story more than the beautiful green, limestone mountains, the simple laughing village children and the cushioned hammock of eternal sloth?
Ants. Ants were my childhood nemesis for reasons that can only be whispered because of the fear that wraps itself around me and sets: strangulation mode. From a five year old perspective I couldn't quite articulate the reasons why I dreaded these 'apparently' innocent insects. Well now I have it. They are all cloned workers working tirelessly, under order of the Queen without so much as a day off or an antenna massage. And not only are there billions upon billions of them but with one ants communication to its posse of where the goods are they are able to invade any sized space and take it over if they so wished it.
There were so many varieties that could be with you on every occasion. There was the regular black household-sized ant that is so commonly seen on the kitchen bench in Australia, the bull-ant minus the pincers, a red ant that really wants to be the size of a bull-ant but doesn't cut it size wise and the worst one of all (a new one for me) the tiniest ant that you could ever imagine before it got down to needing a microscope. This one in particular in Laos crawled into every visual platform that one could spy: computer, bed, clothes, books, dinner plate - every big thing, those little darn devils were there.
I'm not sure if it was the sheets of rain that ushered them inside or the pressure cooker sun roasting every tourist that had them actively sourcing me, but I have lost count in my killing spree.
I will now that I am leaving for Bangkok to obtain my visa for India, recover and attempt to write you more memorable stories that will darn your heart into a pair of baby pink socks.
For now though....

Keep smiling and jiving!

xxx

Moving to a new beat.

After surviving Thailand's Songkran festival (the largest water fight and clay cheek exchange I have ever known) I am finally sitting here from the deck of a large three bedroom house in Laos. Thanks to an eccentric white knight who loves his coffee and giving aid to people where-ever he can.

Thailand's Songkran

When I arrived yesterday I was guided into town to get my bearings of where things were like the expensive wireless cafe. I had been advised to put my laptop back into the same plastic bag I had used for Thailand. I instantly understood why. Songkran was also celebrated in Laos. Could you believe it. I was there for wettest three day New Year's and I just happened to be carrying all electrical goods. So when I thought I had escaped from Bangkok from being pistoled in the eyes and my cheeks, neck and arms, clayed I clearly hadn't. Sure it's fun at the beginning and cooling when you least expect a bucket of water being thrown down your back but to be wet - like really really wet for the whole three days... well let's just say I have a fungus. On my toe!

View from front porch. 

It's day two, there's a red sun that crept up just after six and a soft rain rippling over the lake. Although I am sitting alone on the best broken deck chair ever - I am nowhere near alone. A hundred mosquitoes have joined me (unfortunately to their demise from the bug zapping tennis racket) tens of birds chirp, squark and cry strange exotic sounds and the pack of neighbourhood dogs who had sniffed me more than once on a earlier expedition to find the location of the tens of cock-a-doodlers that I had heard but so far hadn't had the luck to come so close as to take any of their pictures are now happy to sit and stare, wagging their mangy bits.

Check this out! Ha!

My lovely hosts and I went out to a restaurant last night and enjoyed several culinary delights like a few baskets of sticky rice, a seafood Tom Yum and some chicken thing with basil. My favourite was the juice I ordered - the first being red dragon fruit and for the second one - papaya and guava. If I return again to this life I want to be freshly squeezed as one of these fruits. They make people feel so good. Sooooo goooood!
A local duo strummed it out on the stage and did a nice repertoire of local hits and for some westerners like me the famous song Country Road by some guy I can't remember. Only the male singer who had the voice of a woman was passionately singing in all innocence Cunty Road. It made my night.
Such simple pleasures.

Well I promised myself that today was the day for beginning the last leg of writing the book, so while I sit here steaming like sticky rice I better just put a little soothing Rachmaninov on and get to it.

Until the next adventure...