In Vientiane we seem to be. It's a rather odd place in that it is the capital city of Laos and it is no bigger than Burton or Cheddar, perhaps double the size of Romsey but that's pushing it!
Everything here is French, obviously because the French were the last to colonise the place. Which is fantastic, it's French without the French. I'm beginning to like this place already.
However I have befriended a fair few bratpackers (a new term used {by me} to descibe people who either are here on their parents money and/or are just here for the stamp in the passport). These people annoy me because everything is a pissing contest. Chossing not to go to a popular backpacker haven is like proclaiming to the customs man that you intend to smuggle 50 tons of fresh ivory, blow up the plane it was on and go to his house raid the cookie jar and have some late night fun with his wife. Maybe they find out where you're going and they give you the complete lowdown, the exchange rates and every emotion they went through before suggesting a "better" place to go, that they themselves have not even been to as it's listings have not yet made it to the dizzing heights of a Lonely Planet.
It's not all like this, we have met some thoroughly interesting people ranging from a honeymooning couple from Israel, a Norwegian merchant sailor, a gay Russian, John from Manchester who had an incurable disease in the shape of verbal diarrhea and a Submarine and diving expert from the US Navy. Admittedly some more useful than others but all entertaining characters nethertheless.
