Wednesday, September 28, 2005

The Real Khao San Road.

We sat around and watched a dozen or so episodes of Friends, as the torrential raid beat a steady rhythm on the tin roof above us. As the crecendo built the sound from the TV was drowned out. The remnants of the Typhoon that had hit China and Vietnam had reached us. We knew that there would be no let up today.

After a few hours the rain subsided enough for us to make a break for it. Running across the sodden street, leaping over puddles and dodging rain drops. Sheltering in a shop front we collected supplies, and headed back to the guesthouse. Quick turn-around. Dropped off the bag of shopping, and went back to find a bar.

We'd passed a place that had some mellow tunes drifting through the damp tropical night air. Finding it easily we headed in, depositing ourselves on a knee high platform of matresses, cushions and a low table. "Two Beer Lao, please." I said hplding up two fingers to be sure. The owner smiled a broad cheeky grin, nodded and said, "Two Beer Lao." He held up four fingers. I smiled back and continued to brandish my two, "two." A nod and a smile, and a "yes, two." Still holding up four.

Two beers arrived. We sat in the low lit, low-fi, low seated bar, enjoying the music. It was good to here a decent tune after being subjected to so much Thai pop for the last few weeks. The low lighting came from a lamp built out of three Bar Lao crates, and created the perfect ambience.

As time drifts and bends it becomes less and less important. So a while later, a dark figure approached from his place at the bar. He sat at the table close to us, strands of thick smoke weaved through his long greying hair. Sam called him over to come and join us. Then our night began.

Pete, a true wandering trubadore. He reminded me of Billy Connelly, if Billy Connelly had dropped out of society and become a free soul wandering around Asia. We drank, we talked, we deconstructed the world and decided our world view was right. What better to do when you are sat in a bar in the middle of Laos.

The electricity cut-out, and the vibe was broken temporarily, as people scuttled around in the dark retrieving and sparking into life half used candles. Soon the vibe returned and soon after the electricity followed. We were briefly joined by a French guy, who drifted off to another corner of the bar. We continued in the same vain until it was almost closing time.

Pete suggested that seeing how it was his last night, we should grab some bottles and head back to his guesthouse. We agreed, although I was by now a little worse for wear. So we three set-off, I a little behind, finding harder than most to negotiate the murky water filled pot-holes. Leaving the dim lights of Khao San Road behind we trudged down a dirt track until we reached almost to the river.

Rounding a corner we came upon the guesthouse, hidden from view. A place so small you would be mistaken for missing it. The owner we were told was from Norway, he appeared half asleep from a doorway as we approached. Apologies for "such a late hour" were muted, and waved off. Afterall it was only ten, but operating on Laos time it felt appropriate. We all sat around on the veranda and carried on where we had left off only minutes before. The owner's son came out and joined us, he was on holiday to see his dad.

Deep discussion and lots of laughs, it came time for us to wend our way home. Plus the beer had ran out. We hugged Pete and wished him well on his journey. The walk back was not as bad as I'd feared, we soon found ourselves outside the guesthouse. Bed was delayed by an attempt to watch a film on HBO, but was a non-starter. One-by-one we drifted into deep relaxing sleep.

Morning came, but we managed to ignore it. Picking up where we left off, we attempted HBO again. This time we stuck a full film. Well almost, as Sam started to doze just towards the end of The Hulk. It was around one in the afternoon, so it was time we faced the day. The rain had died off, which we'd partly used as an excuse not to venture further than our beds so far that day.

Now well, we've eaten, and feel fighting fit enough to tap-tap-tap away at a keyboard for a while. Answering emails, up-dating the blog, the daily technological grind of staying in touch with the world out there.

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