To the edge of the world and back PART 2

The thrilling climax! Two months after the fact! Sweet crackers!

Actually, thrilling is not a word I would use. I mean, I found it thrilling but that's because I was there, beside the freaking Mekong river, in sight of nefarious Myanmar and mysterious Laos. With a pretty girl. I mean, really pretty. The only thing missing was a villain, a sidekick and a vodka martini.

Ok, so the villain will have to be the evils of cheap Thai beer and poor-crafted flooring. The sidekick will have to be my trusted hound, who ate my breakfast, wrestled mano-a-canino with me for sport, and bid me adieu as only a faithful mutt can do when Meaw and I departed. What am I missing? Oh! The vodka. Well, I don't drink vodka. It's for girls and girly men or, if drunk by the flagon, Russians. Since I am not any of those (those Meaw seems convinced that I am, in fact, a bit of a girl), we shall never speak of vodka again. And don't get me started on the martini!

So, where did I leave off? Oh, right. We had just arrived in Chiang Saen, the sun was looking to set in an hour or so and we were both more than relieved to be off the wretched coach, most of all, Meaw. It had been rough on her but at least she had had her medicine and someone to rub her belly whilst she slept fitfully. In truth the belly rubbing may not have caused any real improvement to her health - though she did reveal yesterday that it was on the way to Chiang Saen that she knew she loved me, so who knows? - but she has a lovely little tummy and I love rubbing it. On the coach. On the motorcycle. In the bed. At the restaurant. At the market. In the temple. Wherever good times be had! I may have a problem.

Anyway, we had arrived in the Edge-o'-Beyond town of Chiang Saen which is apparently a bustling tourist centre during high season. I find this hard to believe if for no other reason than the place is far too pretty. And nothing tourists touch ever stays pretty. Oh, and the fact that I was the only Johnny Foreigner in the place, a fact made all the more apparent by the whispered mutterings and wide-eyed stares of terrified children as I - and Meaw - walked by. It would prepare me well for Si Saket.

One of the original motorised tuk-tuks in Thailand drove us to our hotel, a vehicle that was nothing more than a motorcycle with a small wagon attached to the back. It was a little underpowered, to say the least. It also made up half of Chiang Saen's veritable fleet of tuk tuks.

After throwing our baggage into our spacious room at our guesthouse, a lovely little place, a short walk out of town, and after become waylaid by some acts of travel-weary lust, we set off for dinner, taking our time, walking back into town along the bank of the great Mekong river, all that stands between the Thai frontier and the savage beauty, beyond, in Laos and Myanmar. In the distance, all around in fact, I see banks of clouds rising and rising skyward into the growing darkness, only to realise that they are collossal mountain plateaus, stretching beyond the horizon.

As I took pictures of my darling sat beside the river, the sunset shining upon her face, I knew without question, without doubt and without an ounce of cynicism, that I was happy.

[to be continued at a later date, complete with pictures]