The sound of loud rock music fills my ears, I round the bend and to my surprise find a band practicing loudly in a small bamboo hut near the road. Loudspeaker, guitars, drums, keyboards and the band are all squeezed into the tiny room, in this very primitive village, it's quite a sight, especially before 8 in the morning!
As always, the children line the streets as we pass through every village to wave and shout "bye...bye...bye", the kids here are one step more enthusiastic than the Vietnamese children, they can spot a foreigner at 200 m from before they can walk, and begin frantically waving when I still need binoculars to see them. It is a wonderful habit and sure make it fun to roll through this beautiful country.
Two days of boat rides took us from the dusty roads of the north to Luang Prabang where you could happily indulge in all the comforts of home and eat like a king from the cuisine of almost any country (for quite a price I might add). The bike was calling louder than the beautiful baguettes on the street corner so it was time to again pack my bags and head for the final hills of the journey, and quite some hills they were too! Never ending it seemed, but after 10 km hanging onto the back of a truck, the monotony of 6 km/h disappeared as I hung on for dear life trying to avoid potholes and the roadside as we cruised uphill. Sharp corners would put me into the ditch so I had to let go and pedal frantically to regain my hand hold on the truck. With a soar arm and a smile I gave the driver a toot on my air horn (purchased in China, and the best thing since sliced bread) and a wave and set about pushing myself to make it up the last km's to the town ahead.

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