Don Det and back

Still in our little group, from the slow boat to Luang Prabang, we headed south through the capital Vientienne. I was there for just a day, before deciding to brake away, in a splinter group, and head all the way south, to Don Det(one of the 4,000 islands on the Mekong river). The journey was broken up with a small two day trip to Champasak, just north of Don Det.
Champasak was described as "a sleepy one road town on the banks of the Mekong", which wasn't too far from the truth as we had to wake it up to get in there. No sooner had we woken up the ferry driver and crossed the river, than we managed to attract the local lunatic, who was more than happy to offer us his take on accomodation advice. So, without a second thought, we flagged down the first tuk tuk and decided to follow our noses. We forgot, "sleepy one road town", so had to endure the madman until a tuk tuk had awoken and found us.
After, seemingly, waking the rest of the town to find a guest house and some food and the big old Wat Phu(temple) there, we were back across the river and on our way to the 4,000 islands.
So onto another 'sawngthae'(pick up taxi) it was and down route 13 for another hour before being dropped off at a hut on the side of the road, where a couple of old guys on scooters promptly hopped up and speed us on our way to another river boat.
At last we reached Don Det, a little island set ion the widest part of the Mekong river, surrounded by lots of other islands(hence the 4,000 islands bit). What were once small fishing communities, have now quickly cottoned onto the fact that lazy westerners really like lying around in hammocks and doing a number of easy going river based activities here. So the following six days were a blend of walking, cycling, swimming, a couple of very poor attempts at fishing and ensuring the stability of our riverside hut hammocks. My hammock wasn't as stable as the others, which I put down to poor hammock maintenance. Problem soon righted I was back in action, so to speak.
There were a selection of snakes and scorpions to keep us entertained by day, but by night the show got much better. With a full moon and clear skies overhead, we were circled by storms all around us and had small flashing fire flies darting around the island, just to compliment the lighting show put on for us above.
My chess skills were refined even more and I was in complete slow motion by the time we had to leave. At this stage, the whole pace changes anmd I found myself heading back up to Vang Vieng to get the photos that I didn't get first time round.
This process involved a boat, another sawngthae a bus(complete with alnight thai karaoke videos) and another smaller bus. Stage one went without a hitch...that was the boat.
Stage two, however, went with a very large hitch indeed. Watching the sawngthae blokes loading up their truck with rice, live fish in large buckets, crates of poultry and an array of man on roof, pregnant women and a couple of sick little girls on IV drips, we grew slightly concerned about the weight this pick up could carry.
My fears were not without good reason. After giving up my seat inside for a little old lady, I found myself adapting the local method of travel, which requires hanging off the back of the truck standing on the tailgate and holding onto the roof rail. It wasn't so much the precariously placed ducks posteriors facing directly at my face, it was more the way we passed four other, similarly overloaded, trucks all with blown out tyres.
All of a sudden, bang. We lost the left rear and started into a fishtail that seemed to build up momentum as we decelerated. Every swing took us further towards the ditch on the side of the road and, in my instantly formulated opinion, certain doom. This was when I made the concious decision to abandon ship. If it had rolled, I would have been in the safest position on the truck........it didn't, and I wasn't. The result........several unappreciated cuts and scrapes and another pair of flip flops sacrificed.
The truck came to rest across the road and I came to rest about 30 yards behind the truck. To make matter worse, I immediatly started to burn my, now bare, feet on the tarmac that had been baking all morning. So we all pulled myself together, not a misprint this time, as I used the best part of my Canadian friends medi kit to clean, patch and sooth my open wounds.
I still hold fast that I made the correct choice, and the Canadian and Aussie guys I was travelling with were in complete agreement.
So everyone checked, and me now realising why the drivers don't let tourists hang off the back of their trucks, we waited for another one to come and get us. It arrived within an hour or so and we all, except the rice, fish and poultry, sat in complete silence watchiong the road for the duration of the journey.
The following 48hrs was spent travelling back to Vang Vieng.....and wondering whether my childhood dream of becoming a stuntman should have become a reality.
I will update the photos when I find a computer with the necessary capabilities.