There was three of us staying in that hotel in Lunag Prabang. After the terrible, terrible experience which was the deadly fast-boat from Chiang Khong, we all wanted a decent hotel in which to give thanks to God for being alive. So we had checked into a pretty damn good little hotel. It was like a mini 5***** for $30-40 a night. There was me, T (my erstwhile friend, flat-mate and business partner) and Dodgy Dave. We had met Dave in a ladyboy owned guesthouse in C.Mai so days before. He, like us hated every fucking minute of the 2 days treck. We had bonded.
Dave was maybe 40. He had about 30 tatooes. He was a proud football hooligan from Portsmouth who worked in the docks and revelled in his reputation for dodgy dealing. " 'Ash from Morroco. Fackin' shnaaaaaaaaahhhhts from Spain. I get's everything boys." He had taken us in under his wings. So it was two little posh boys and one huge, skin-headed thug. Dave decided to tag along with us to Laos.
So we were now in Luang Prabang, bored shitless. What a boring place. The only thing I say for Laos is that it has great bread. Also one can feel rich when one has a huge roll of money wrapped in an elastic band. I certainly enjoyed feeling like Del Boy as I purchased a Pepsi for like, 40,000 fucking whatevers. Kips, scnips, bits?
We decided that we wanted to rent a boat and go find some opium. For T and myself, smoking the brown was pretty much the only reason to see Laos (besides needing to get of BKK for a while). So we found a dodgyish boat driver and told him what we wanted. He was all ears. We set off soon after. The dude even let me drive the boat for 45 minutes. It was pretty cool. A nice way to see the River. But all we really wanted was some Opie.
We eventually came to a typical little hovel village on the side of the river. The natives lined the shore, undoubtedly excited by the prospect of fleecing some White-boys. We had other ideas. They wanted us to buy jewellery and give money to their rather distended looking children. We wanted brown.
After much discussion is what can only be described as gutteral Laos/Thai, we were led by a couple of unhappy 'village elders' to a place in the back of the village. It must have been the crack-den. The place where the undesirables lived. It felt like home.
We managed to buy a couple of blocks of Opium and quickly wanted to be on our way. The village tried to enlighten us as to their culture and make us stay. But Dodgy Dave was not a man to be fooled with.
"Get 'aaaat a' my way you fackin darkies", he said as we gradually make our exit.
The villages did not exactly stone us on our exit, but they seemed very non-plussed to say the least. Fuck 'em. I was with Dave on that score.
So we were back on the boat. Just me, Dave, T, the driver and a nice little stash of Opium. We proceeded to use the local technique of simply swiping a cigarette through the brown mush and smoking it. This worked quite nicely and 45 minutes later when we got back to Luang Prabang, we were stoned. Dave, a man more used to booze, 'puff' and fighting, found it hard to keep up with two middle-class druggies. He dozed while we smoked.
In the next 48 hours, we only left the hotel to grab more bread. We had seen all we wanted in Luang Prabang. It was time to ditch Dave (who had been annoying T) and get out asses to Muan Singh.