I got up early on 8th June to get the 6:30 boat from Sichang Island back to the mainland. From there I got a sweaty non-aircon bus back to Bangkok. I was sitting next to a sailor with whom I “chatted” in English, except that he couldn’t speak or understand spoken English, but was very competent at writing and reading. So I wrote things down on a piece of paper and he wrote back. It was very odd.

Bangkok was the last reliable city for several logistical tasks, so after photocopying the latest pages from my diary, buying envelopes and ink, and posting the many letters that I’d written on Sichang island, I packed up a box with processed film, all the letters I had received, and the maps I had finished with, and sent it surface mail to the UK.

Unfortunately there were no more letters at the poste restante desk at the post office. Hopefully my flurry of letter-writing will yield some more mail in Hong Kong in a few weeks.

I got a tuk-tuk to take me to Khao San Road, where I headed straight for the visa/travel agent – Banglamphu Tours. My passport was ready, and to my relief and delight it had 2 brand new visas in it. The Cambodian tourist visa has a reference number 589/91. Could I be tourist number 589 this year, 1991?… and since Cambodia has only recently opened up (slightly) after the turmoil initiated by the Vietnam war, maybe only 588 tourists have been into the country since the mid 1960’s? We shall see…

The agent gave me my Vientiane – Phnom Penh ticket. My original booking for the once per week flight from Vientiane to Phnom Penh was for 21st June, but since my visas came through quickly, I have brought this forward to 14th June, which should still give me enough time in Laos, and more time in Cambodia.

The total bill for all this was $250 which does not seem a bad price to get me visa’ed through to the Vietnamese border, along with the air ticket to Phnom Penh. I was encouraged by the agent to make notes from a sheet giving essential information for independent travellers in Indochina. The sheet was only a month old – I really have got here at the ideal time. I followed the advice and got some extra passport photos, and more medications, since these are apparently not going to be readily available.

Further down Khao San Road I found a book shop and luckily was able to buy the very recently published Lonely Planet guide to Indochina that I had seen in Singapore. I rang my sister in Bedfordshire to let her know what my plans are – she was a little concerned, but trusted my judgement!

Then I found a local bus to get to the railway station where I boarded the night train to Nong Khai. I had a sleeper bunk which was pretty comfortable. Before going to bed I read part of my Lonely Planet Indochina book – it insists that nobody can get visas for Laos or Cambodia unless they are on an expensive organised package tour (and it even apologizes for recommending package tours!). Yet here I am I with my 3 visas that will apparently enable me to wander in as a backpacker…

A few other foreign travellers were on the train, but nobody was heading across to Laos. I arrived in Nong Khai mid morning on 9th June, and walked to the centre. The town felt peaceful after the bustle of Bangkok, and I checked in to a newish-looking guesthouse. I spent the day relaxing, reading my Indochina guide, eating more pad Thai, and making sure I had everything I will need. After what I have read and heard, I have no expectation of being able to buy much in the next 3 countries.

After writing some more letters in the evening, I went to sleep, but evidently not all was peaceful in my dreams. At one point I had a nightmare that I was being chased by a good old traditional bogey-man, and just as I was cornered, and the bogeyman was about to get me, I yelled “NO!!” and woke up to the sound of myself actually yelling “No” in a croaky panicky voice!

Breakfast was with some deaf Swedes who were communicating in sign language – they were laughing and evidently telling funny stories or jokes. After checking out, I posted the latest letters, and then on the spur of the moment, got $400 extra cash from an ATM with my credit card, as a contingency, since Indochina apparently does not yet have ATMs. Then I walked through the lively colourful streets to the banks of the Mekong. I found the ferry that would take me across, went through Thai passport control and took a deep breath as I boarded the narrow wooden ferry.

Looking back at the Thai flag retreating into the distance, I had little doubt that the easy travelling was coming to a sudden end. The only challenges I have had so far this trip have been in countries such as Peru which, though going through temporary civil unrest, are free and open. But I’m now heading into an entire region that has been cut off from the rest of the world for decades, devastated by the tragedy of the Vietnam War, and now dominated by the Soviet Union in terms of politics, communication and foreign policy.

The trip across the Mekong took only a few minutes, and before long my shiny new Lao visa, adorned with the ominous hammer and sickle emblem of soviet communism, was stamped with today’s date.

Once through, I got a tuk-tuk, or jumbo as they are called in Laos – a 3 wheeled motorcycle taxi with space to squash 4 or even 6 people in. This took me to the centre of Vientiane. Initial impressions were that this could not possibly be a capital city. There were few people on the roads, hardly any cars. Even though many of the streets are wide boulevards, no more than half of them seem to be surfaced.

I went to a old French colonial hotel, which the book recommended. I was given what (after Bangkok and especially Singapore) seemed to be a huge room. But it looked like the last renovation was when Laos was still a French colony. I headed out for lunch at a recommended “French” restaurant – the French cuisine is supposed to be relatively authentic and great value. A very good Chateaubriand steak confirmed this to be true.

Then I went to check the foreign embassies – it had been recommended that I should register with a “first world” embassy if possible, so that they knew who I was in case anything went wrong. However the embassies were no help at all. But on the way back I found one of city’s attractions – the “Arc de Triomphe“.

Though nothing like the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, it was ornate and well worth a look. But the traffic in the “Champs Elysees” was a microscopic fraction of what is constantly roaring past the French original!

I had a long siesta and had another vivid and rather strange dream. No bogeyman this time, but I was with my middle sister in a field trying to fix a balsa wood model glider so that it would fly…

Later I headed down to the river bank and though I was just a stone’s throw from the city centre, it look thoroughly rural, with people making reed mats in the early evening sunshine. The modern world totally left this place behind….

I had a bit more to eat at a riverside restaurant, then headed back through the dimly lit streets to the hotel to get my diary up to date.

What I have not seen so far are any other foreign tourists. I am totally on my own now…