Bourtie House, Aberdeenshire, Scotland


It took us a long time to get here. In Luang Prabang amid temples and markets, monks and opium dealers we finally started to make our way back to Bangkok. I bade goodbye to the owners of my $3 a night room and swapped my bicycle for a driver and moped. We took off along the river road watching the boats sitting on the muddy banks of the Mekong.

The fast boats moored below the ferry ticket office were not what I had been expecting. Long and wooden and very narrow, with an engine mounted on the stern that had probably been salvaged from a car wreck - the giant prop shaft that trailed behind us was nearly 15 feet long. Jetting down the river at 40 knots we made the Thai border in seven hours.

We had a brand new mini bus to ourselves as we traveled up to Chiang Mai. I sat reading Buddhist literature while Simon lay with feet up and head phones on, singing very loudly. The next day we hurried through Chiang Mai, stopping to learn how to field strip handguns at a Thai Army base. After few hours of bookshops, eating pies and prostrating ourselves in front of Buddhas, we were on the train.

As we had an overnight trip to reach Bangkok I decided to explore the carriages. Unlike most Western sleepers the beds were in a long line all the way up the car. I was slightly perturbed by the hole in the floor that I figured to be the toilet but apart from that the journey passed uneventfully. In Bangkok we had less than a day before our flight home so we spent the time having haircuts and massages and buying forged press passes.

From Bangkok we flew to Scotland via London and spent four gorgeous days enjoying family and home cooking. Compared to the sun of Aberdeen, the mists of Boston are not so thrilling but I am glad to be back and beginning the next chapter.