Opium and suffering the out of context problem.Everyone likes it here. There’s nothing to dislike. There's nearly no traffic outside the capital so you can indulge yourself happily winding through the misty mountains for hours on end. And, above all, they have coffee and baguettes (the legacies of France). Now how good is that? The people are calm and friendly. And the backpackers can pretend that they are discovering it for themselves.

Opium is readily available. Whole villages in the north seem to have gone over to catering for the Lonely Planet carriers, providing bunks and food and drugs with weekly rates. I guess it conforms to an image of what travelling is all about. They choose not to notice that it is not 1969 any more.

Overlanders en masse

For me, aside from the quaint French town of Luang Probaang, with its extensive book collections (three whole shops worth) there is not much here aside from hill villages. And the whole rich foreigner situation is starting to bug me: my hulk of expensive metal zooms through the agricultural villages. The people get to look on open-mouthed. I get to feel smug. It’s not healthy is it? I am an out of context problem. Time to move on.