A quick spiel on the restaurant as this was the highlight of Pakse, an achievement not that difficult to obtain but well deserved in this case. It's run by an Italian who has been here 9 months and it's just the pastas. Good tasty food which he cooks up and sells for a fair price. And the banana shakes are amazing; the perfect blend between a shake and a thick sweet cake mix. Divine.
Anyway, up the next day for a bus and boat to the misleadingly named four thousand islands, specifically to the island named Don Det. After a kerfuffle where I was advised the only bus left in five minutes, getting three tickets, a very fast pack and check out, then finding that the bus was actually then full, and that other cheeper buses actually left semi-regularly, we were on our way. Arriving in Don Det was pretty cool as you hop on a boat and blat out to this picturesque island with trees, fields and hammocks. We wandered over the railway bridge, avoiding the horrendous fee to do so, and settled on a quaint guesthouse away from the party region. We were immediately sold by the mixed expression of the host, of surprise and delight, presumably at actually having guests stay. The snake we passed was a little less welcoming but went completely unnoticed by myself (I still haven't properly seen a snake in the wild yet which is starting to irritate me as Craig has sighted three on this trip).
Our accommodation saw us through three days and nights of lazing around in comfy hammocks reading, playing games or just chatting mindlessly, sipping down the occasional beer for nourishment. A photo of the view from my hammock is included somewhere with this post. I can't emphasise how awesomely relaxing this was. And the food was amazing too. We frequented a guest house around the corner with a great cook, an exuberant French chap whom I incorrectly mistook as being the owner (somewhat aided by him bringing us the menu and getting us seated and so on), and a tonne of kittens. The kittens often left me alone which was nice, apart from the last day when two continued to jump up on my lap; by the time I had removed one then the other was getting comfortably settled. Cute, but grr. This seemed to entertain the other diners at least. The proprietress was actively attempting to learn English by having us write down our orders and then, under the supervision of her English-speaking daughter, checked our orders and tried saying each item. A sweet lady who, on our last night dining there, respectfully gave us basic wool bracelets for 'good luck' on our onward journey, all contributing to the cheery feel-good experience of the island.
Now the cheeriness does have limits. Dare cross the rail bridge and you find yourself harrowed for 20.000 kip each to cross back to your guesthouse. Given our rooms adjacent to the river cost 40.000 kip each this toll amount is clearly preposterous. Craig and Morgan wisely refused to cough up the dough, feigning the right amount of ignorance to get past uncharged.
Our only physical activity here, aside from eating, was going for a cycle around the island. Thirty minutes at a leisurely pace, taking in the farms from the dirt path, and hoping my bike wouldn't fall to pieces under my weight.
And after all this cheery bliss of reading, eating and relaxing we departed, filled with fuzzy warm thoughts of Laos, on a boat and then bussed off to the next country.
Next up, Cambodia.
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