When I arrived at the Wattay international (haha) airport of Vientiane it was simply closed. Very closed. The ride from the hotel took just 10mn and there was absolutely nothing to do than wait and hope… It seemed impossible that a plane would actually land and take off soon in this place, but somehow the dogs stopped barking and employees slowly started appearing.
I was heading to Paksé, where I was supposed to get a ride to a coffee shop (!) before boarding the Wat Phou boat for a 3-day cruise in the Mekong River.
The meeting point was the Sinouk café, where I met the rest of the travellers. A broad family of loud and spacy Norwegians and a French couple that had they not been there I would have spent my days on the boat getting crazy with the poor manners of the Viking family.
I was taken over by the weirdest guide of the trip: he kept telling the same thing around 10 times, bearing the matter-of-fact expression of someone that says something for the first time, even when I repeatedly but politely said that I understand. As I later understood, even the small responsibility of the tourist  he was going to drive and fetch to the boat was too complicated for him.
Anyhow, he did not board the boat, thank God, and I was left to my own devices for three days, but guess what: the cruise came with another guide, a chubby tiny fellow that when he finished his sentences would look at me open-mouthed for like 10 seconds (this is a long time for a silence!), and then finish every sentence with my name and dragging the last vowel à la chinoise (Andreahhhhhh), as if I had to find everything he said so astoundingly interesting and surprising.
After a very interesting tour at the Phapheng cascades and the Don Khong Island, where I decided that I would move when I marry a local beauty and become a sweet-water fisher, we finally got to the boat. It was shining clean, and fresh drinks were served, as every time we came back from a hot visit to a temple or a village (I secretly drank more than my share, in the secret hope they belonged to the Norwegian family). Twice a day a succulent lunch and dinner were served on the deck and in the restaurant respectively. Coffee, tea and fruits were freely available at any time, as was WiFi, and thank God the hyperkinetic kids found something to get busy with other than breaking the silence…
We stopped at nice, quiet spots of the river for the night, where there was nothing to do but contemplate the silence. Photographing was a real pleasure, and I felt many times thankful that we don’t have to buy film anymore, because my luggage would have to have been full of it… The scenery was fantastic, as you can imagine, and it filled my inner world with peace: the lovely sunsets, and the dramatic sunrises, I will never forget.
During the days we visited villages where life goes by in tranquillity, temples where young monks played football with us, or other, hidden in the nature temples... Morning- and evening eating time was chat time with the French couple, and then dodo! I felt so far away from home, Bangkok and Vang Vieng, the traffic jams and our screwed Western society as I wanted to be.

It felt good, in yellow and orange shades, and as expected came to an end too soon…

The pictures

The postcards

The films

Can I come with you?