Sa-bai-dee
“Kor horng-nam”, I hopefully ask the woman who’d inspected my ticket on the bus; she nods and points down a muddy lane in amongst thatched bamboo stalls piled with everything from flip-flops to phones. Around the corner I have to repeat the 
question several times before I’m eventually gestured behind a stall where a couple of bamboo hut squatties stand next to a sign that says “WC 2000kip” along with some Lao script presumably saying the same thing. “Kor horng-nam” literally translated means “Please give me toilet”, which is the best I can do at short notice. The small town is a stop on the way towards the eastern town of Lak Sao and well off the main tourist route. The locals stop and stare wide-eyed at this strange white man with a funny hat speaking broken Lao.
“Sa-bai-dee”, some say with a gentle smile, “Sa-bai-dee”, I reply. If the Lao people are sure of one thing it’s that no-one is going to leave their country without learning their favourite word, which means hello. They’re such a gentle welcoming people that I’m sad to be leaving after only eight days; I could have spent weeks in the amazing city of Luang Prabang, which is like a rural French village with dozens of Buddhist Wats sat in the jungle beside the Mekong and surrounded by mountains.
“Hello, how are you”, says a boy of not more than six, his face is nervous but brave as he grasps a rare opportunity to practice his English, “I’m good thanks”, I reply with a gentle smile, only to be interrupted by the sound of a loud horn, which prompts me to wave, turn and run back through the mud to the bus which is waiting to take me onward through the mountains, and towards Vietnam.
