The Nam Ou is a meandering river of a good width. Sometimes the current seems quite strong and there are small rapids. The green vegetation is broken only by burns and occasional houses and villages. The silhouettes of trees against the gray clouds and fog softened forests looked like petrified moss frozen in white stone. The slow boat went along at a good clip. There were quite a few fishtraps/nets set in the water with bamboo tubes for floaters.

We passed people in slow boats going from one village to another and boys madly paddling wooden canoes while one worked a fishing net. The sight of bungalows along the river signaled we had arrived in Muang Ngoi about 1 and 1/4 hour later.

The waterfront is crowded with guest houses and bungalows. The main street has its share as well. But people are friendly and don't seem jaded to tourists. After finding a place and getting lunch, we walked a little ways up a path. There we saw lots of butterflies-- many hovering high in the branches of a butterfly tree (maybe sassafras since it looked like it had different shaped leaves and I'd read sassafras grows here.)

We didn't go far on the path because we were planning on walking it tomorrow. The village itself is probably more guest facilities than regular housing. But it has a large school and playing field and lots of chickens and roosters running about the street.

People ran through the streets. There were a few cracks of thunder. We watched the rain and swirling clouds-- agitated by the storm. Watching the silver sheets of rain with the hills and clouds, from the shelter of the balcony was restful.

When the rain stopped, we walked up the new road. The fresh dirt had been dissolved into thick clay mud which stuck to our shoes in big clumps forcing us to stop occasionally and try to rid our soles of the weighty mud which filled every crevice and formed doughy platforms. The view of the hills and bamboo forests stretched below and above us.

The road led to a village with wood and woven bamboo houses. At the house nearest to the road there was a newer structure with a concrete foundation. A woman was digging a shallow trench around one side. A man sat inside weaving a basket. Chickens and ducks raced in front of us as we walked through the village. Women and children greeted us with "sabadi" and laughed at Rowshan's photos.

The houses had tidy plots of vegetables surrounded by bamboo fences. Sometimes on the ground we came across the red marks of betal nut spit. The center of town had an open area with bamboo "clotheslines" and some bamboo trash baskets. A path led down to the river. Another led back to the road. I think the village was called Sopvanh.

On our way back to town we passed a man we'd passed a couple times before on the road. He was sitting by the side of the road holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes. He pointed out a pretty black and white lizard with a yellow ridge which was on a tree. I noticed he had a bird guide and asked if he knew about local birds. We'd heard a whooping noise from across the river. He pointed out the greater coucal in his book, a black bird with brown wings. He said you usually don't see them in Laos but you can hear them. He bemoaned how there weren't many birds anymore because their homes were destroyed by deforestation and hunting. R mentioned how every kid had their slingshot. We talked about the river being overfished and how the ecological situation wouldn't be fixed any time soon because of the poverty. His name was John and he was traveling with a couple friends.

We wished him luck in his bird watching. Rowshan continued his search for butterflies and bamboo with flute sized sections. He found one and cut himself a piece, then blew it, testing the sound. As we got closer to the hotel we met a local boy who also had a long stick of bamboo and was blowing into it making it whistle. He wore a slingshot from his neck.

Towards evening, we walked through town and saw people busy weaving bamboo fences. At another house, boys were weaving a fence from bamboo strips. A man was making a complex basket from thin strips of bamboo. Some kids joined us watching. Rowshan tried to ask how many strips it took but no one could understand. He switched to how long it takes and just got, "no" as a response. "See, here is how you communicate," he said and proceeded to point to his wrist and ask how many hours by saying, "one, two, three". Finally he tried pointing at the sun's movement across the sky and established it took one day to make a basket.

We passed many houses with balloon/dart games, set up. The prizes sat in front on a table: orange soda, and jars of quail eggs in a bluish liquid.

Back at the bungalow, kids ran up and down the beaches with torches. Sometimes they'd whack them against the ground. I'm not sure what they were doing-- killing frogs maybe? Sometimes a kid walking over the bridge would shout, "I'm sorry." At night young guys gather on the bridge playing a guitar and singing. It can be kind of annoying but it is good at least they are making music, even if a lot is American pop. The bridge might be the most modern structure in town: a tall concrete platform with flat road and huge concrete pilings. It also has lamps and sidewalks whose curbs make semi mud-free seats. The more I thought about it, the bridge really makes a great meeting place: flat, light, great view, and sidewalks for sitting.

The back held 20 very uncomfortable looking people. I also noticed the tarp on top seemed to only cover half the bags on top. Since ours were in the front, they were covered. Then, at 10:30 , we were off. Soon it started raining. The road was paved and good. I dozed off a little as we wound past villages, burnt areas where clouds mixed with steam from the hot wet ground. Going through a village the driver hit a rooster. He did, however, slow down for ducks and a family of chickens. We speculated it was a form of revenge for being woken up at 4 AM every morning by roosters for his entire life. Occasionally I'd glance back to see how people were faring. At one toll station they put the plastic covers down to shield people from rain. At another place people demanded a pee stop. As I opened the door I noticed a terrible sulphur smell. I had noticed some of the people in the back had been holding their shawls/towels over their noses. I thought maybe someone had puked. The smell turned out to be emanating from the battery which was held, exposed to the elements (flying chicken parts, etc.) under the vehicle.

I'm sure by this time everyone in the back, especially the tourists, was cursing Rowshan and I vehemenantly. However, the driver couldn't seem to fix the battery. We all got back in. R and I were thankful we were in the front and the battery was behind us. About 4 hours later we got to Nong Khiaw. The rain had cleared up revealing tree covered mountains rising over the river.

Most of the tourist accommodation is on the side of the river across from the bus station. We got a basic bungalow with hot water, hammock on balcony, and a location a bit too close to the bridge and the stair access to the river side-- a bit noisy since the kids all troop down past our place. On the other hand, we have a great view of them splashing in the water, fishing with long bamboo poles, cruising by in long boats, and throwing sand at each other.

There are trees growing in front of us: a palm and kumquat (or oranges that haven't grown yet) and a garden full of flowers and butterflies below. We get the afternoon sun (good thing since I think the mornings are usually rainy and cloudy). Beyond our hotel, the village stretches along the road: bamboo walled houses, chickens, and chicks scratching next to the road, roosters crowing to each other, an occasional flock of turkeys.

Today we walked a couple km down the road to visit the caves. We passed some fish ponds with a wooden house in the middle of one and lotuses blooming in the water. The rice paddies are irridescent green. Water buffalo both brown and sunburned looking white ones, graze and snort at each other. All around are mountains and trees. Kids greet us with, "sabadi pen" as they beg for pens. Rowshan responds "sabadi pen" back as if he thinks it is a new phrase in Lao.

The caves have a picnic area in front with a field. We crossed a bamboo bridge which led to a rice paddy. A young man was sitting by the paddy singing-- perhaps enjoying the acoustics provided by the echoing cave in front of him.

The rice paddies had a shallow layer of clear water which reflected the straight blades of leaf which rose to about knee height. Dragonflies flew above, their wings making a shimmering cloud, like a mirage, accompanying the musical purr of the water.

The cave had been used by villagers in the 60's during the war, as a living/ administrative center. The first cavern had a stairway leading inside. It was big but not too impressive as far as rock formations go. Around the cave were signs with things like, "Governor" "finance minister", written on them. I guess this must have been where they set up offices. It was kind of strange. There was a sand pile used for storing ammunition. The nicest thing about this cave was an opening-- complete with bamboo bench-- which provided a view of the rice paddies below and the mountains across. "It's like a wide screen TV," Rowshan said. I admired the view and watched pretty black swallows with red spots on their tails circle in front of the cave opening, while Rowshan took silly jumping photos. Then we walked down and followed a path between the mountain and rice paddies. This led past a cave with a small entrance up a steep dirt path labeled, "bank".

Beyond this we walked to a 3rd cave. This was the "Finance and Trade offices". On the way I felt something cold and slimy touch my leg. I pulled my pant leg up and knocked a large brown leach off. Fortunately it hadn't managed to latch on yet.

This cave was quite deep and had some pretty sparkling lime formations. We followed a tunnel back. It opened into a larger cavern, then finished at a smaller one. Interesting rust and white stalactites hung from the ceiling. In one place there was an odd hole in the ceiling. Back out we followed the path back and then turned to wind between the rice paddies. A herd of water buffalo were grunting at each other. One seemed in a fighting mood and ran madly around finally locking horns. Another bigger one came racing in. The air also hums with birds. Cicadas made high pitched whines like dental drills.

While walking through the paddies, Rowshan spotted 2 more leaches trying to get to my legs. (They were a bit thrown off by the socks). He got them off and brushed one off of his shoes.