101 Challenges:

Location: Phnom Penh - Cambodia

The bus trip from Saigon to Phnom Penh was 3 hours longer than stated - again. It was hot, sweaty, uncomfortable and all-round crap. But here we are in the land of Cambodia and after three nights in the capital of Phnom Penh we leave very reluctantly. We can’t quite put our finger on what we love about this city. It's dusty, busy, smoggy, very hot, and unbelievably humid. Yet despite all this, it has a very calming effect on you.

We had been staying at the Number 9 Sister Guesthouse on the lake. The guesthouse is perfect for the long-term backpacker or poor travellers. The rooms are very simple and basic which means they're cheap. $5 per night we were paying for our own double rooms - bargain at double the price, and the staff are brilliant.

One word of warning though; there's a guy called Rain working there and although very welcoming, funny and friendly, he sharked his way to three bottles of beer out of us over the pool table within minutes of us arriving. Don’t play him if you ever visit, he’s too good.

Another word of warning is this; The rooms at this, otherwise amazing place to stay, get hot. Very hot. Very, very, very hot. We both woke up on numerous occassions with our bags (not rucksacks but it rhymes) stuck unnaturally to random parts of our bodies. The sweat pours off you and with no AC (air conditioning for the stupid) and only a tiny ill-functioning fan, you can not fail to wet the bed - not with pee, but with body water.

The lake in which this soothing, slightly shanty looking guesthouse (from certain angles) perched on is simply enchanting. It is covered in giant leaves and even some lilies. Around the rest of the lakes outer perimetre lies a few more shanty and not-so shanty guesthouses and hostels. The sad thing is, everything gets dumped in this lake, its more toxic than Britney Spears's Toxic song but it's heavenly;

On the beautiful poisonous green lake there's a few ickle sized kids who arrive in the latter part of the afternoon/early evening offering to take you out on the lake on little boats for the sunset. We didn’t want to be seen as supporting child labour but they were so wise and funny that we couldn’t resist joining them. The fact that we managed to haggle them down to $1 per boat also helped us throw our morals into the lake with all the rubbish the rest of Phnom Penh does. So, we sat on the lake and watched the sun go down very peacefully before becoming hyper again and having a boat race back to the guesthouse. Hell yeah! We made those tiny little people work hard for their money. We loved it - we think they did too. They even took Frank for a ride.

We were so, so, so happy to finally be in Cambodia. There are few better feelings in this life than having the pleasure of leaving Vietnam. Don't get us wrong, it's an amazingly beautiful country, but as stated in "Off The Rails In Phnom Penh" - "Vietnam's incredible. From the instant you get off the aeroplane until the moment you leave, every single person tries to steal, extort, seduce, or lie their way into your pocket".

Frank says he'll be joining us in a few days - he too hates Vietnam. He sent us a brutally honest picture via text message with the following words, "Lads, extrememely dissapointed. Had to lower my standards. Not happy. Not happy at all!

Simply, we just got sick and tired of constantly being ripped off, over charged, conned, stolen from, and lied to. All the aforementioned seems to happen more so and more blatantly in tourist hot spots, but even up in Dalat, 1475 metres above sea level, in the mountains, we were still subjected to chancers galore. So, here we are, about 500 metres from the Cambodia/Vietnam border, ecstatic to be in a happier place - even the security man here was happy to see us;

When in Cambodia, like Vietnam, there's a wheen of things you have to do and visit - some will be a pleasant experience, some won't be. In Phnom Penh you have the tragic S21 Prison and Killing Fields. Both of these places are very significant in the Genocide that went on here in the 70’s.

Hiring a moped each, we headed out onto the mad, mad roads of the capital. This place is crazy with traffic and they really don’t seem to have many green cross code rules other than stopping at traffic lights and not killing yourself or someone else. Suprisingly though, the road system here works. In no time at all, we were zipping along in the hectic and random traffic.

We love driving motorbikes (said in that Welsh birds accent from Big Brother a few years back - Helen?) in any Asian city but Phnom Penh is different from all the rest so far. You have to adopt a do-or-die mentality and show ascertiveness but not aggression. Weaving in and out of moving and stationary traffic, squeezing your way to the front of the traffic lights queue and then ars*ng the hell out of the clutch and accelerator to leave everyone behind is amazing and gives a great buzz.

Lee's been here before and so, with a believable degree of certainty, he tells Lindsay to follow him and that we'll be at the Killing Fields within 20-or-so-minutes. After travelling about 24km's in the completely wrong direction Lee finally admits to being lost.

We then asked approximately 17.3 people for directions but nobody could understand us (probably because we're Scottish) but eventually, we were redirected onto the correct road which would lead us directy, in a straight line, no more than 14km's away to our desired destination.

Onto that road we drove and drove, and drove and drove, until we realised that we'd probably driven about 28km's (not joking). We even had to refill the gas in the bikes.

You see, throughout this drive, Lee was continuosly shouting words like "oh yeah, I recognise this bit" and "nearly there, that building's familiar". Obviously, mind focused on his mouth, he failed to see a bloody massive sign for the Killing Fields. Maybe he got confused as the sign actually said "Genocide Centre" which to everyone but him is the same, same, but different.

So, we drove past this and missed the turn off by 14km and about 20 minutes. On realising his stupidity we stopped for Lindsay to try and get lunch in a small rural community. The first "restaurant" (glorified tin hut) would not sell him food (we still don’t know why - probably because we're Scottish). However, a second "restaurant" (another glorified tin hut) would only serve him soup. There was no option for any other selection of choice. Lindsay resigned himself to eating only the liquid part of the “Cow Soup” he blindly and un-educatedly ordered;.

There were parts of cow in this bowl that we've never, ever seen. Not in any of the numerous cow biology books we read and certainly not on the cow channel on cable (it's educational - not porn!). It was quite simply disgusting. Big fatty things looking up at him, small fluffy things that looked like hairy mushrooms but had lungs on them and everything else that would make you puke instantly was expected to go onto the spoon, into Lindsay's mouth, down his throut and lie in his belly. No thanks luv, I'm stuffed.

After "lunch" we arrived at the Killing Fields. As soon as you enter, you're "greeted" by a huge towering monument to those who were murdered and/or buried there. This isn't an engraved stone or plaque, it's a tower of human skulls that had been excavated from the very ground that we were walking on.

We walked around this haunting and very sad and somber place trying to comprehend, understand, put reason to, and appreciate the horrors that went on here. You can't do it. There are signs scattered around the area explaining what went on and where "192 bodies uncovered here with no heads" and "450 bodies buried here" etc, there are bones stacked against tree's, there are mass graves everywhere (some excavated, others left alone) but, what hit us, hard, was that there were pieces of fabric from peoples cothing, poking through the path we were waling on. We were walking on graves, on top of the dead. It was a horrible feeling and one we didn't want to continue with so, we paid our respects and left. You can't help but feel sorry for the people of Cambodia.

The following day we visited the S21 Prison which is now a museum and formerly to both the previous, it was a high school. When the Khmer Rouge entered Phnom Penh during the coup they turned the high school into a prison, where they interrogated, tortured and eventually killed thousands of, let's face it, innocent people, before taking their bodies for burial in what was to be known as the Killing Fields.

Inside this former prison you are confronted by the small (some blood stained) cells, torture implements, pictures of tortured (and now dead) prisoners, and head shots of thousands of rounded up prisoners who had done nothing wrong other than be intelligent, wear glasses, question the coup or Khmer Rouge or simply because they didn’t look right to one of the Khmer Rouge's army. It is horrific.

You see, what we found disturbing here (Lindsay more so than Lee) is that, at the Killing Fields you have skulls and bones. We're all made up of skulls and bones and so there's no individuality to them (Lindsay's seen a lot of dead people back home - through work). Don't get us wrong, when you see thousands of skulls pilled up on top of each other, it has a fecking horrible impact on you. But, at the S21 Prison, you're confronted by thousands upon thousands upon thousands of photographs of the people who were unrightly detained, tortured, and murdered. You're looking at ghosts. You're seeing into their eyes. You're seeing pure and horrendous fear. It almost knocks you out.

There's a very fitting saying which has been etched onto one of the walls at the prison "When This Was A School Nobody Died. When This Was A Prison Nobody Learned".

Despite the above, we really enjoyed (not the word we want to use but you know what we mean) having the opportunity to visit these places. They both sadden you like God knows what but you learn something from them, something about yourself, and the world - it's too easy to turn a blind eye to someone else's suffering. If you have the opportunity to see these places, afterwords, whenever you come in contact with the Cambodian people, you feel warmth towards them - funnily and strangely, they recipricate it back.

Back at the guesthouse the backpackers and staff chill out and converse about travel and everybody’s love for Cambodia. We never ventured far from the porch overlooking the lake at night but then again we didn’t have the need or want to. On the one occassion we did we entered a poker tournament (they're everywhere in these here parts). Not suprisingly, Lindsay lost almost immediately and so declared to all that he was off to the casino where he would win back his money. Lee was out shortly after and decided to join his bro.

On entering Lee was bewildered at the computerized sysyems, even the cards were computerized. Lindsay, for once, could not be heard and so it took Lee a minute or two to reach him. Once spotted, so too was his roullette compterized panel diplaying his bets. It was like star-trek in there.

He had every number covered with chips - gleefully screaming like a dog on helium "I can't lose!" but sweating like hell to the contrary. When asked what he had won so far, he sadly admitted that he had in fact lost $100 (£50) in the 28 minute gap from the poker game. Lee began to play too, but (much to his younger brothers embarrassment) only played tiny girly bets - 20 Cents here, 20 Cents there. A man is only truly made when he bets $20 per spin on every number possible.

Remarkbaly though, during Lee's taunting of his addict of a brothers gambling skills, Lindsay's lucky number 17 came in (he had more chips on this number than the rest of them) which meant that he had won a lot and now only at a loss of $20. We quickly left with Lindsay claiming some sort of victory over the casino and headed back to the safety of the lake.

We're now in Saigon as it was previously known and still is by many a local, tourists and us. Its new name after the American/Vietnam War is Ho Chi Minh City but nobody seems to care really. The heat is stifling and with the added bonus of traffic fumes, quite suffocating. There are million's and million's of motorbikes in the city and one or two cars, a few trucks and some busses too. This is one very busy city.

Thankfully the heat can be a little subdued by the remarkable Bia Hoi. This is the beer which is sold in small, sometimes slightly desolate, establishments. As its cheaply made and stored in big plastic containers and poured into jugs from a simple garden hose - the dent you usually have in your wallet when drinking is not even a graze in this case. We found it for 35p a litre, unbelievable! Not trying to encourage drinking kids (in the UK) but here, go for it!

Whilst enjoying the amber nectur we started talking to Samuel Emmanuelle - a very friendly chap from Angola and one who has political ambitions. He told us that he wanted to achieve social changes and how his actions could bring prosperity and happiness to his country. From what he was saying, all sounded good and he was quite alluring - we began to hang on his every word.

He told us he's in Asia doing some oil work just now, but afterwards he wants to build hospitals and schools back home. What was a little discorncerning though was the fact that this incredibly friendly man was surrounded by a lot of Nigerians - but not that disconcerning. If anyone of them had asked us there and then for our sort-code's and bank account details to help build anmenities for his people, we would happily have just handed over our wallets for the plight of the good man from Angola. If/when he does come up for election we're sure he'll win hands down;

We called him El President. He liked that and so, bought us a jug of more beer. He then said if he does become victorious and take over the realms of Angola then we're invited to come along and join in the celibrations. We await our formal invitation in the next few years. Hopefully it'll be nothing like the Last King of Scotland and hopefully he won't greet us with "Goooood afternoon madame".

Today was a very packed one. We had the Cu Chi Tunnels to visit in the morning and the War Museum in the afternoon. The visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels was quite an eye opener. Huge numbers of Vietnamese people (soldiers and civilians) lived in these tiny in height and width, but massively long tunnels. They had command centres, hospitals, munition stores, sleeping areas, kitchens and even theatres underground.

You can enter a few tunnels and hide holes but some of them were far too small to attempt (reminding us of some of the numerous bus trips we've had to endure). We entered a few tunnels ourselves and you were instantly taken aback by the humidity, heat, darkness and eeriness of it all. Lee said there was no way he could live down there and Lindsay said neither could he... far too many beasties.

After the tunnels we were taken to a shooting range where you're given the opportunity to fire some weapons that were used in the war, obviously at a cost. One English guy spent £50 on ammunition, maybe not too expensive but when he pressed the trigger, he had about 6 seconds of fun.

Lindsay, like a kid in a sweet shop, had to buy some bullets too. The tight-fisted Scotsman in him made the sensible decision to purchase cheaper bullets. Lee questioned why he wanted to have a go at all, nevermind wanting to waste £3 on mere seconds of "fun" but was met with a reply of "Hell Yeah, USA USA USA!".

Lee, who is anti guns, pondered Lindsay’s extravagant and pointless purchase for a backpacker (bullets) and to why his younger brother could justify their cost when he was trying to spend less than £3 a day on food. Lee said to himself “Trifles not rifles”.

Lindsay approached the gun stand with the look of a kid who was heading to a candyfloss stall. His bullets were taken from him and he cried and stamped his feet for all of two seconds, before the bad man who snatched them from him placed into the AK47. The kind "fairground" worker then gestured for Lindsay to approach the rifle. Lee, noticing the candyfloss look and the how it all looked fairgroundish got confused and wanted to go on the Waltzer's but unfortunately there was none.

Sunglasses down, ear muffs on and gun in hand, Lindsay chooses to use single shots rather than let the automatic function kick in. Lee is glad his brother is showing some sort of restraint and therefore is not quite a complete lunatic yet. He aims like a true pro, striking the poor metallic goat targets with great accuracy and with an almighty bang of the gun going off;

Lindsay is a proud man. Not only of his shots but how by going single shot he had outlasted the guy who spent £50 (see below). So, by his reasoning, Lindsay was very happy as he had in fact saved £47, and not really spent anything. We should note that the funds from the Gun Range are claimed to be used for the upkeep of the tunnel system;

Then it was back in to town and to see the War Museum. The museum basically consists of a few planes, tanks and armoured cars scattered about. These are ok to look at, but the real horror lies within the rooms of pictures and stories of the war. Some people may say it's slightly one-sided, it's referred to here as the American War - to put that in to context, we hardly think the Iraqi's right now call what's happening the Iraqi War. The pictures scattered everywhere show that the atrocities against the Vietnamese people can't be questioned;

Feeling sombre we left the place and after having dinner, we went to book a bus for the following day to take us to Phnom Penh in Cambodia. We don’t know what came over us (perhaps copious amounts of Bia Hoi) as somehow, we left the travel agents with a bus booked for 6.30am. This was despite there being busses every hour. Our sense of reasoning was, if we get it over and done with then we can continue drinking, and sleep the hangover away - thus, completely missing out the (what will most likely be) sweaty, clamy, hot and incredibly uncomfortable journey which will no doubt last 5 hours longer than the stated 6 hours we were quoted.

We then had a "couple" of more drinks with a Canadian couple who have stalked us everywhere we have been in Vietnam. We've sadly not got any pictures of them, possibly because they scare us (only joking, we love you Allanah and Simon). With only 5 hours until wake up time, we finally hit the sack.

We've opted to cancel the "Where the hell is Charlie?" Challenge. Sorry to anyone who would have liked to have seen that one, but the reasoning behind chickening out is as follows;

We would have got our heads kicked in. Probably stabbed. If those two things never happened then at the very least, we'd have been simply killed. Never mess with the locals, and after seeing how proud the Vietnamese are of their past and their victory during the Vietnam/American War, we weren't going to mess around with them. So, there's now a vacancy for a new substitute Challenge. Bring it on!

To increase our presence in interweb search engines, we're going to put a few words in here so that more people stumble across our little adventures. Here's some of the words we thought people would look for on things like Google or Yahoo;

Boobs, Boobies, Girls, Boys, Viagra, BBC, Sky, Naked, Rhinosouras, George Bush, Kangaroo, Bum, Australia, Funny, Hilarious, Plastic Surgery, Pancakes, Christmas, You Tube, Zimbabwe, Brittney Spears, Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, Mortgage, Loan, Dating, Sex, Nipples, Banana, Manchester United, Asia, Olympic Games, Iraq, Russell Brand, Towels, Cabbage, Porn and Facebook.

Location: Dalat - Vietnam

We arrived in Dalat yesterday afternoon and Lee quickly reverted to his usual Scottish moaning of “oh it’s cold, I hate rain” and Lindsay acted like a victorious Red Indian rain dancer. Yes the central highlands of Vietnam were very similar to Scotland on arrival. Lindsay welcomed the refreshing drop in temperature which allowed him to get wet from the rain rather than his usual body waterfall of sweat. It was sooooo good to be cold (it was probably about 24 Degrees Centigrade).

Lee had lunch by himself as soon as we arrived, in probably one of the most expensive restaurants that can be found around these here parts. Well, we say by himself but Lindsay was there. He decided not to purchase anything other than a tomato milkshake (it's an experience) as he remembered that he was a backpacker. Lee on the other hand, ordered Deer, Fries and Beer still imagining he's a lottery winner away from home for a year deciding what to do with the £42000000 he won. Silly boy, it'll all end in tears, or bankruptcy.

Lindsay, being very bored with nothing to do with his fingers, decided to take an arty photo and then distort a picture of his elder brother;

On opening our eyes this morning, and realising we were still alive, we had a look out of the window - both hoping for a little sun so we could enjoy the day. The sunshine was back with a vengeance and both of us were sweating profusely before we even had breakfast. We hired two mopeds (hoping the breeze at high speeds would cool us down) for the day and set out on the mountainous roads that climb, descend, and twist precariously for miles around.

We headed to Datanla Falls. This beautiful waterfall was unfortunately set down a steep hill and involved walking. In the intense heat and again sweating seconds after stopping the motorbikes the last thing we needed was a walk, so we prayed. Then we saw it, a sign saying rollercoaster.

Unbelievably the Vietnamese had built a bobsleigh type contraption that transported you to the bottom of the gorge in the most exciting manner. We purchased our tickets and were not disappointed. We flew down the mountain at break neck speed and are not ashamed to admit a little fear.

The bobsleigh type thingy was not automated (on the way down), you were in full control. The device just used gravity and you had a hand brake to stop you going too fast. The cornering at times felt like you were going to be thrown from the ride like a rag doll and since you were strapped into your vehicle, it would be flying with you too. Thankfully we made it down safely.

The beautiful ambiance of the water crashing over rocks and the sound of the rain forest in which the waterfall was located was thoroughly enjoyed by us both. We climbed up it a little for a photo opportunity but the heat was getting too much for us and the fact that dark clouds were forming in the distance, we decided to head back to the bikes. Sadly, we just missed Frank, he phoned us and said that he visited the waterfall with a bunch of Norwegian Play Girl's;

Luckily the so called rollercoaster could be hired for a return journey and so we were whisked to the top, this time without feeling scared as puppies in a sack. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Hitting the road like Eddie Kidd (Lee) and Evil Kinevil (Lindsay) we headed for a lake higher in the hills. All the way there, the clouds grew darker and increased in size. On reaching the lake we took in the remarkable resemblance to Scotland and felt home sick. We didn’t really. Even though we moan about certain things from time to time, we're glad to be out here. So, we took some pictures before the inevitable rain started.

With the wind picking up and the rain thrashing the land we headed to a near by cable car place. We planned on getting the car over the mountains for a pleasant view but, like a lot of our plans (when we plan) it went belly up. We were met with “Sorry sir, closed because rain. Ride open when rain stops”. It never stopped. It never opened.

So, after a delay of an hour waiting on the heavens to close we gave up and headed back to town in the now pouring rain. But the rain didn't stop Eddie and Evil driving like stunt men around the mad roads back to Dalat.  The heat that had been melting us earlier had truly been ripped away and the coldness of the wind and rain was again reminiscent for Lindsay and a horrible reminder of the past for Lee.

Arriving safely home we grabbed some food and hit the sack as Saigon beckoned first thing in the morning. This time Lee kept his spending under control and had something cheap(ish). Well, that's technically a lie. Lee took us both to probably the plushest hotel/bar in Darlat but thankfully, the prices here proved a little too much for his little Scottish wallet and so Lindsay managed to bring him back to backpacker-land, cheapville, sensibility. His lottery winner lifestyle is now a shattered dream;

Awakening bright eyed and bushy tailed (for once) we had a Challenge to complete. This was the Rickshawshank Redemption day (a Challenge name that we're still very proud of - we're bloody geniuses) and some lucky rickshaw driver was to have an easy and tranquil day on us (not literally on us like something dirty and sexual). If anybody needs an easy day it's one of these guys.

When walking the streets of Nha Trang you get constantly asked by the rickshaw drivers if you want a ride (again, nothing sexual or dirty here either - sadly). However, when you actually want to find one they're nowhere to be seen. So we walked for a good twenty minutes before finding one.

The drivers name was Nam. We asked if we could hire him for the day and if we could drive. Both the price and the request to be driver were amicably agreed in a matter of seconds. Bbefore you could say "I have an inny belly-button" Nam was jumping into the passengers seat with a massive grin and two thumbs up. What a happy chappy our Nam was. Lee, a bit bewildered by the ease of this transaction, climbed onto the bike and off he peddled. Nam was asked where he wanted to go and he quickly nominated his first destination as the beach.

Luckily, the beach was close and so Lee didn’t have to peddle too far amidst the manic traffic. Furthermore, Lindsay, who was running along beside the rickshaw trying to film everything, was even more grateful than his dear brother for the closeness of Nam’s first pick. It's near impossible to walk in this place without breaking into a Tsunami of a sweat, nevermind run whilst holding a bloody camcorder and a tripod. Well, actually, we still don't understand this, but women never seem to have mini-showers coming from their foreheads - why is that?

Dismounting the rickshaw, Lee and his new best friend Nam strolled down the beach. They'd bonded so well during the 4 minute ride and felt so comfortable with each other that they embraced each other and held hands. Such a happy, carefree and sexually inhibited day it twas;

Half-an-hour or so later, Nam said he had enough of the beach and so, back on the bike he and Lee went. A slightly further journey to Nam’s next request ensued. Lunch. Lee was slightly tired after peddling the rickshaw and was grumbling on and on about how it was hard on his ankles. Lee thought that his younger brother was ignoring him as he sat there saying nothing and bowing his head. Lee was wrong.

Lindsay had just run 5 blocks. Sometimes filming from behind, the side and even from the front. The front angle meant that Lindsay had to not only run to keep up with the rickshaw, but had to run faster than ever before in his hamburger-happy life so as to get in position. So, what was actually happening to Lindsay was this (from Lindsay hypochondriac’s point of view). He wasn't responding to Lee’s complaints of sore bloody ankles, as he was currently having a... heart attack.

He was obviously exhausted (heavy breathing and panting like a sex-starved... like normal really) but this time his heart had actually stopped and therefore it was soon impossible to inhale. Two can's of Sprite or 7-Up (we can't remember) and a bottle of water later, he eventually started to breathe again but did not lift his head to say anything - as it was too heavy.

The day was on us and so, we bought Nam a hefty lunch and even bought him a lady (to massage him - see below) before we cycled him around town again. He said he had a great day and shook our hands and hugged us. He genuinely was beaming from ear to ear and we felt humbled and somewhat remorseful of sometimes being a bit to critical of the Vietnamese.

Just then the little bugger tried to get us to pay more. Double the stated price initially. We hired him for the day, bought him lunch, and beer (he milked that one - ordering two jugs - yes jugs and two of them) and he even got a bloody massage. Needless to say, we didn't pay a penny more! Look at the smug b*stards face here;

Round two of the ex-pat's poker tournament was on that evening and so, after practicing his poker faces in the mirror for an hour, Lindsay said he was ready to go. Sadly, on the way to the game, Lindsay spotted some delicious local delicacies, chicken claws. Being hungry 24-7 and not being able to resist such a mouth watering dish, he purchased two.

As part of the Dodgy Delacacies Challenge and as you should bloody well know by now, we've to eat anything dodgy we see here and there all over Asia. This one wasn't going to be easy. Look at them! They're fecking horrible!

Sitting down on a little plastic chair (like playschool) by the roadside in perhaps one of the least hygene friendly places in, the World, Lindsay's order of delicious chicken feet was placed in front of him. We like chicken, we eat it all the time, in curry's in soup, in burgers... it's everywhere.

But... when you're confronted by a foot and expected to prize open it's toes to suck at the "delicious" meat in between then it very quickly becomes a different story alltogether. Unless you have a foot fetish, this is a very unpleasant and stomach churning experience indeed.

We all know that chickens aren't usually kept in the greatest of sanitation conditions - let's be honest here, they live in their own sh*t. More importantly, they walk around in their own sh*t. With this forever at the forefront of his mind, Lindsay tucked in.

It was bloody disgusting I tells ya! Never again will this "delacacy" be repeated. Not sick (for once) but constantly holding back the puke that was boiling and bubbling at the back of his throat - Lindsay was congratulated by his brother as he too held back from spewing all over the place.

Anyhoo, back to the poker. All the usual crowd were there and looking no different from the previous game, with the exception of Lindsay. As we said, he had practiced with his poker faces so much he didn’t know which to use at any given time. With this dilemma he was constantly changing faces and looked like that annoying Jim Cary in Mask. Actually, he isn’t annoying all the time and he was very good in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and, The Truman Show (obviously the first film was Jim’s best), so apologies (just in case he’s reading, apparently he loves our journals).

The poker went as expected. Lee won. Lindsay lost. At least this time Lindsay had not lost quite as much as before and it was only £4. Lee left earlier than Lindsay, knowing to quit while ahead and we agreed to meet at the Buffalo Steakhouse.

Eventually, when Lindsay reached the place of food, Lee had already eaten his medium rare fillet steak with peppercorn sauce, green beans, plant (of some description) and chips. He had just savoured his final drop of his Argentinean Merlot and was currently ordering his second. He doesn’t know what backpackers are supposed to eat and is constantly wining and dining, it’s as if he is wooing himself. Lindsay had a steak and a beer. At half the price.

Location: Nha Trang - Vietnam

Today we both woke up with two of the worst hangovers… ever. Again.

The day before, Lindsay arrived in at Nha Trang at 6am. Check-in to the hotel wasn’t until 9am (a lie) and so, he utilised these 3 hours by farting about on the webernet and writing. 0900 hours eventually came and as the sun was already up high and shining, Lindsay thought he’d stay up and shine with it too.

10:30 arrived and Lindsay was finally granted entrance to his room. One quick shower later and he went to awake his older and sleepy headed brother. We reacquainted ourselves with each other (normally this comes in the form of a grunt and nod) and we headed off into the town centre to order and consume breakfast.

Lee had already spent one day and a night here and before enthusiastically showing off the surroundings to little Lindsay, he advised him of the dangers of Nha Trang. Dangers? Yes people. Dangers.

On St. Paddy’s day, Lee went out partying as you do and, on his walk home he was approached by four women. Nothing unusual there he thought to himself. However, on this instance, nothing was to be as it seemed. The four women introduced themselves not by name or kind gesture, but by one of them grabbing Lee’s willy and the other three patting him on the head, arms, back and legs. Very friendly folks he said to himself in a French accent for some unknown reason.

Unfortunately for him, these friendly folks were in fact thieving little b*stards, and as he was distracted by having little Lee in the clutches of some random 40 year old woman’s grip, her acquaintances were rummaging through his pockets – and, stealing 300,000 VND (£10).

Lindsay was advised (and you are too if you ever visit this place) to only carry money that you intend to spend, or money that you are happy to lose, and for the love of Christ, don’t take out your wallet or camera etc – they’ll just get nicked.

Alternatively, if you like, fill your pockets with nothing but folded paper and shape it to look like cash – that way you’ll get a free grope! They’ll never see that coming! Lindsay’s just bought 17 newspapers and a pair of scissors.

Lee has since started walking the streets in vain at night. This is in the hope of a repeat grope, but this time ensuring he has no cash in his pockets. Lindsay hasn't returned back to the hotel once since arriving before 5am and his flip-flops look incredibly worn out.

Our hotel was nicely situated in the centre of town, merely a few seconds walk to the shops and outlets. 4.23 minutes walk to the beach. Nice.

Apparently, the best combination of words to describe Nha Trang are “it’s the Spain of Vietnam”. Everything here is for the tourist. From French run Steak Houses (if you ever visit here, it would be a total crime to miss out the Buffalo Steak House) to the lines of excursion and tour shops, to the endless pubs and clubs.

We bumped into two English lads called Ritchie and Simon (one name each obviously) on the beach and shared a few beers with them. Ritchie works as a promotions manager for the Sailor Club on the beach front (not that kind of bar) and is from Blackpool. Simon, is notoriously well known around these here parts – and 99.4% of his notoriety is certainly not positive - but we liked him. He will tell you he is 28 (looks 48) and used to work out here too for another bar but jacked it in for some reason or another.

As we sat talking for a while and gaining priceless information on the where to go’s and where not to go’s we were, as you would expect from Vietnam, invited to join in a Poker match. After no hesitation whatsoever, we both said yes and with a few more relaxing and sociable beers necked, we joined up with the nicest ex-pats from all over the world for a wee game of Texas Hold-em.

Simon took us to a lovely little bar which is run by an ex-pat Scot and more endearing is the fact that a big Beer Saigon is only… wait for it… 8000 VND (that’s about 25p and is good for a branded bottle of beer, but at over double the price of Hanoi’s 12p pint’s – we found it hard to get excited).

Gregg (an Australian guy of about 55 with the positive outlook, but experienced, view of life, and the mentality of a 20 year old) Svente (a Swedish “lad” of about 60 with an even younger view of life than Gregg) Gordon (a man of about 50 who abandoned Scotland in the latter part of the 20th Century to grow an incredibly gay-looking moustache and move to Ozzyland) and another couple of incredibly friendly guys (who’s names we’ve since forgotten due to already being intoxicated at the time of meeting them). These were to be our opponents.

And here is that traitor of a Scot - a proud bearer of a very gay-looking moutache;

A few more introductory drinks were ordered and we all moved on to Zippo bar. This is the only place in Nha Trang where you’re allowed to stage a game of poker. We say allowed, but gambling here is illegal – the bar staff just don’t care and with beer Saigon priced at a nice-but-not-amazing 10,000 VND (34p) we began to care less and less too, as the day went on.

Anyhow, long story short is… Lindsay lost 600,000 VND (£20) and Lee won the tournament – netting a staggering 800,000 VND (which is, to the annoyance of Lindsay more than £20).

Initially we thought that Simon would be taking us to some dirty back alley place to face a quarry of hardened criminal-like thugs of players. Lindsay made reference to this within 28 seconds of meeting the lads saying “I’m so glad you lot are old. I was expecting to meet a quarry of hardened criminal-like thugs of players. If the game went wrong for any reason and you lot were to try and stab me, I’d have at least 57 seconds' reaction time whilst your shaky hands attempted to pick up the knife”. Thankfully everybody laughed.

The above picture has been deliberately chosen to hide identities. Some of them maybe wanted for all we know.

A delightfully fun, entertaining and relaxing (but stressful at times) day had passed and so, we’ve agreed to stay on here at Nha Trang in order to play the men again on Friday. Lindsay really can’t afford to lose again.

It was dark when we finished the game and so it was another quick shower (2 in one day is extremely out of the ordinary for us) and after jumping into our night time gear, we headed off for dinner – accompanied by a few more beers (they didn't walk with us, we met them there, ripped off their heads and drunk their blood).

After an incredibly beautiful and bloody steak each we went to a few bars and checked out the talent – which there was a lot of. Jugglers, magicians, musicians… everything!

We particularly enjoyed the health warnings, the Vietnamese have placed upon their cigarettes. Apparently, smoking is gay. Don't smoke kids;

We eventually hit the Sailor Club on the beach and were expected to pay 60,000 VND (£2) each to enter. “Do you know who we’re not?” we asked the door staff before repeating Ritchie’s name at least 76 times and saying we should be on the guest list. Sh*t, the stewards actually had a guest list.

They asked us our names and with Lindsay’s eagle eyed vision, he scanned the A4 piece of paper the steward foolishly failed to conceal and introduced us as Michael Stringman and Michael Voorderbank. Easy. They waved us through, without payment – we liked that. Lindsay was proud of his blagging skills, but Lee was quick to point out that the staff just let us through as we we’re annoying them.

The music was appalling. Hip Hop constantly blared through the PA system so, on the very rare occasion when something we knew came on (ABBA, Cheeky Girls, Celine Dion etc) we danced and pranced around that dance floor like nothing you’ve ever seen (or would like to see). We ended up having an absolutely amazing time – not too certain anyone else who had to endure the pain and suffering of our groovy bodies did though.

Random picture time. Lindsay got a huge fright when the sun fell out of the sky and landed on our table during our earlier meal;

Anyhoo, sorry about that. Silly o’clock in the morning arrived and so, refusing to bring a close to the day, we headed off to the "Why Not Bar", after all, why not? We can’t really remember much after that. Blurred flashbacks of dancing like idiots, high fives, and lots more liquid pleasures. However, we do remember leaving.

On the way back to our hotel at the exact same spot as where on the previous night Lee had been robbed, a motor bike approached. Off jumped 3 girls and two more appeared from…..well could have been anywhere as our vision was very blurry, but we knew there were 5 of them. The demonic eyes were the same as Lee had encountered the night before when he was being accosted. The robbers were going to have a second go.

As they snaked their way towards us with there outstretched kleptomaniac hands, Lee put his in his pocket and as he held firmly to his cash he thought “here we go, a nice free grope” (this time in a camp German voice for unknown reason).

Lindsay, with his female intuition didn’t have to be told that these were the robbers and before Lee could have a bit of fun, the younger of the two of us turned round to face them and shouted F*** Off!. This was blared out with such a ferociousness that the theives immediately disappeared (We do actually mean disappeared, as we said before we couldn't see well and so, anything farther than 3 meters from us was invisible). Lee was gutted, no freebie tonight. Lindsay was even more gutted - he thought the day and night was cheap until he realised he had 17 cut up copies of the Bangkok Post in his back pocket.

Location : Nha Trang (Lee) Don't Know Where (Lindsay) - Vietnam

Firstly, Hi to Mum, Leyton, Lyle and Holly. Thinking about you all today. Secondly, happy St. Paddy's Day to everyone. That's all we can write namely because Lee's out of his face with the Irish and Lindsay's being spooned by some random guy on a bus from Hoi An probably. Slainte!

Lee got a bus at 5:30pm yesterday. He’s off to Nha Trang after booking a 13 hour road trip. Lindsay opted to go by train the day before, but the smart-ass forgot to book a ticket – completely putting his ill placed faith in the “chill-Lee-we’re-on-holiday-everything-will-be-fine” attitude.

Needless to say, all trains are fully loaded with people and he can’t leave Hoi An until today (Monday – and, 3 days later than he had originally planned) which means that his St. Paddy’s Day celebrations will be spent lying vertically on a crowded, hot and sweaty bus. Whoops.

Hoi An is a beautiful little place and Lindsay has an extra day to appreciate it – all alone with no pals. The French influence is everywhere – from the old ruined-looking buildings to the amazing assortment and variety of fantastic food and perhaps more importantly, cheap beer.

Situated on the east coast of the central belt of Vietnam – it’s nice to be back near a beach. The sun has been shining with glorious heat and so, Lee’s got a nice tan. Lindsay’s pinker than a boiled lobster. A word of advice here, don’t be like us (tight Scottish buggers).

We thought that we could train the skin of our bodies to absorb the suns browning UV rays without any aid or protection of suntan lotion – thus saving us Pounds, Rupees, Baht, Dong and every other currency. Lindsay’s arms, back, shoulders, ankles, legs, neck and face have a different point of view now and random muscle spasms occur every time he walks past a pharmacy or stall offering Factors 40 and above – his arms and hands freakily reaching out involuntarily to grab a bottle.

This place is surprisingly rather touristy – there’s an amazingly huge outdoor market with street vendors selling everything from fresh fruit to live monstrously-sized fish and the streets are chocablock full of possibly the cheapest and snazziest tailor shops. Sadly for us, we’ll never experience the luxury of having our temples of bodies measured for a tailor-made suit – mainly because we refuse to spend money on anything other than the necessities of life... beer.

The other day Lindsay bumped into 4 Irish lads that we met up with in Vang Vieng. Walking down the street, minding his own business and breathing in the warm and clean air – his tranquil state was rudely interrupted by some Corkian blaring at the top of his voice “WATER!”.

You see, after the day of tubing in Vang Vieng, Lindsay opted to stay out a little while longer and ventured up to a little pub called the Smile Bar next to the beautiful river. Not breaking from the norm – he consumed copious amounts of alcohol before his body refused to take any more. Boringly but responsibly, Lindsay began to purchase bottles of water – trading mother nature's sweet amber nectar for a factory’s tap produce.

This is apparently frowned upon in Ireland and so, these fellow Celts decided to call him Water whenever they saw him. We appreciate this is an incredibly boring and crap story – but, we had to give the lads a mention, as on meeting them a thousand miles away in a different country they decided to present themselves as the other elements;

Here we have Earth (sitting), Wind (blowing), Water (swishing) and Fire (for some reason flexing its muscles). And because we were one extra, the other Irish lad decided to be… Love. Obviously.

Lindsay nearly pulled but the gal told him after this picture was taken that he was too old for her. Bugger;

Last night we took a break from not drinking and decided to hit the pubs. The day started as it meant to go on really. Lindsay (who’s staying 82 seconds from the centre of town) went to collect his big brother who stayed in a hotel about 20 minutes from the centre of town.

The two of us went to the beach, which (unlike all the maps and the hotels say) isn’t 5 minutes from the centre of town, but 15 minutes (by taxi). We soaked up some skin cancer and downed 5 beer Saigon’s each. Lovely.

5 hours later, we headed back to our respective accommodations and had a quick wash and changed for an evening meal. One further beer each and the worst “steak” you’ve ever seen later and we decided to go to “Before and Now” which is Hoi An’s must-do backpackers bar.

Happy Hour! Booyackasha! But we only had 20 minutes to make the most of the buy-one-get-one-free Gin and Tonics. 6 were ordered and so we had 12 between us. Mix this with free pool and a German lad by the name of Dave (a pool wizard) and we had the time of our lives! Dave just seemed confused at the idiocracy we were constantly displaying – every time he produced another wonder shot, we’d simultaneously combust into shouts of “Dave!” and “Davie!” and “Davey Boy!” – we loved him – but looking back, we were incredibly drunk.

Word spread of a beach party going on and so at about 2am we left the bar and headed off in a taxi. If you’re ever fortunate enough to visit Hoi An, don’t be unfortunate enough to find yourself at this beach “party”. When we turned up, we doubled the number of party goers and so, quickly left and returned back to Before and Now (which is on one of the side streets near to the river in town).

A couple more beers were ordered and word spread of another beach party going on. So, at about 3am Lindsay left the bar and headed off in a taxi. Lee decided to call it a day and went home to bed (girly-boy).

Here’s a random picture of some cows drinking out of a puddle – cute.

Lindsay latched on to a group of about 6 English lads and so, when they all turned up, they yet again, doubled the number of party goers. Lessons can never be learned whilst under the influence of evil alcohol.

6am came and so Lindsay went. Rising 5 hours later to collect Lee and spend another day at Hoi An’s beautiful long beach. This time – no mention of alcohol was made, never mind purchased or consumed.

Still suffering a now mild hangover – Lindsay’s sitting on his tod at the Re-Treat restaurant on the Tran Hung Dao Road or Street or Avenue which is 42 seconds down the road from his hotel. It’s 20:17pm and it’s a lovely and calm evening with only two imperfections tainting it.

1) Lindsay has no friends and so everyone’s looking at him, pitying the sad bugger who has to resort to typing things on a laptop to detract from his sadness of being lonely and

2) his ankles are being ripped to shreds by b*stard mosquitos and he’s very itchy.

Lee on the other hand, is enjoying the smooth motions of his sleeper bus as it dances with the bendy roads and slight inclines and declines of a few hills here and there.

Since we've been away, there's been a few articles written about our epic adventure in some UK newspapers, magazines and on some websites. We've been recommended to put a bit of legal rubbish here regarding all this and so; If any person or company wants to publish anything relating to this site and/or our travels, please contact us first to authorise permission - Cheers.

Anyhoo, we'd like to say a well done and thanks to Scottish Health News - even if they've painted a whiter than white picture of us (obviously haven't fully read our journals) we appreciate the nicey-nice article;

Oh - we've updated the journal entry for the 4th of March. There's now loads of pictures of the Challenges (cheers Mark) and we've added in more writing so read it again and laugh, squirm or cry, but most importantly, enjoy!

Location: Hanoi - Vietnam

Still in Hanoi – the capital city of the wondrous and manic Vietnam. We managed to find a cheap little pad in the city centre and the room – for less than £2 each a night - is actually pleasantly nice.

This Vietnamese city has the most manic street traffic we’ve ever seen. There must be over a trillion (slight exaggeration) mopeds, at least 251,006 tuc-tucs and so far, we’ve counted 72 cars (and we’re still counting!)

Crossing the road is a life-or-death gamble. Apparently (so we’ve been told by some random idiots) all you have to do is walk straight across the road – making eye contact with anyone who’s fleeing towards you on a mechanical mode of transport. This glare should result in them swerving to avoid you. Fun.

Today, Lindsay is opting to leave the hustle and bustle of city life due to still not feeling too good after whatever he came down with in Laos. Searching for train or bus tickets to take him to Danang – where (according to the Lonely Planet) tranquil beaches await his now milky white and prickly body.

Lee’s decided to give the city a little longer and absorb its chaotic traffic and towering buildings for an extra day or so. He’s now counted up to 76 cars – 18 of them being red. He likes red.

Surprisingly, Lindsay shared a room last night… with a gorgeous stunner… Ally. Fortunately for him (and Ally who turned out to be an English male) they never pulled each other and so, the quest for an opposite sexual mate continues.

We’re still travelling with Cat, Nic, Steph, and Jenna - the English girls we met on the way to Laos and now, Lindsay’s potential future partner, Ally. Lee’s staying with them for another night in Hanoi which will allow him to see the prisoner of war (P.O.W – we love Batman noises) jail where the Americans were detained and tortured during the Vietnam War, or the American War as it’s known here.

He’ll then join his little white bro in Danang or Hoi An (further southwards down the eastern Vietnam coast) in two days - hoping that Lindsay doesn’t get a better colour than him. This is fearfully likely though, as it’s been overcast and relatively cool in Hanoi since arrival.

To describe Hanoi – Lee would say it’s a great little ole city. Lindsay would say it’s smoggy. That’s it. He doesn’t care to expand on this. He just wants out.

With a train booked for 7pm, Lindsay’s all packed and ready to go. Jumping on a motorbike taxi at 6:40pm proves that preparation isn’t really our strong point and with literally seconds to spare, he boards the train – ready to kick back, relax and enjoy the 16 hour journey to tanville.

Bring on the sun.

Today we left Vientiane for Vietnam. But first we had to endure Lindsay and Lee’s Friday Night Takeaway Challenge.

The name of the Challenge was changed though, to Lee and Lindsay’s Monday Morning Takeaway due to it a) not being a Friday and b) due to the fact we weren’t going to be in Laos that afternoon (hence the prior reference to leaving Vientiane for Vietnam) and Lee wanted his name first (vane bugger).

This Challenge was simple. Each of us had to dare the other brother to do an obscure and pointlessly stupid act. As a “life-line” both brothers were allowed one double dare that they could use as retaliation against any stupid dares given to them. This meant that both brothers had to complete that particular dare.

We had to lick each others armpits, squeeze fresh lime juice into our eyes, Lee ballet danced all around town in a tu-tu and to top it all, Lindsay had to board a plane wearing nothing but Speedos.       

After all this, we then had to endure Lindsay’s fear of flying. Prior to setting off for the airport, a huge projectile of sick exploded from Lindsay’s face. This is one of the first times Lee has ever seen how anxious and petrified aviation makes his sweet young bro and naturally, Lee being the caring older brother, offered some helpful and reassuring words and actions of planes crashing and wings snapping off. Here’s the chubby lad defying every aviation rule and regulation;

Frank got another flight – apparently he had an entourage of 12 gals who wanted him to join a club of one mile. We don’t understand – he’s only 12 inches!

We never crashed (obviously) but still traumatised after landing, Lindsay was taken to a “play-school” type beer café in Hanoi city centre by his elder brother. To help calm his nerves Lee ordered some beer – which comes from a simple garden-like hose which is connected to a keg. It was fun. Only when the price of a pint was quoted, did it become even more fun and Lindsay then fully forgot the mornings traumatising flight ordeal. 12 pence for a pint. Let us just repeat that. 1 pint = 12 pence. 12p. 12% of a quid! We had 20.

But, with every happy 12p Ying comes a disturbing and saddening Yang. Another play-school drinker decided to be our best friend that afternoon. We would have happily stayed at that little beer pad all day, if it wasn’t for the fact that this random stranger turned out to be mental!

Now, both traumatised, we decided to relapse back into our youthful and care free days by having some merry-go-round fun;

Whilst out and about in the city, we came across the Ly Thaito statue, who (according to the Vietnamese) lived from 974 to 1028 and (according to a more accurate and knowledgable us) as you can clearly see from this picture, he proudly holds on to his recipe for Tayto Crisps (most commonly found in Ireland). Great crisps.

This guy was regarded as a God by the people of Vietnam – his amazing recipe helped to feed the entire country for 314 years – during the disastrous food drought. Sadly, we never had the time to visit the Tayto Crisp Museum. We would have loved that!

Location : Vang Vieng - Laos

Lindsay slept for 30 hours. Not once leaving his room. He’s adamant that he’s contracted food poisoning or Malaria. Lee’s confident it’s a cold. Lindsay negotiated for a while and both of us agree that, at worst, he has Typhoid. You see, when any one of us contracts a cough, or a sore finger nail, we automatically fear the worst. We should buy shares in Pfizer – the amounts of drugs we purchase anytime a sniffle comes from our nose shows on the FTSE 100 and Dow Jones index charts. Every joint and muscle was aching – he claimed he had a fever of 233 and in all fairness to him, he was physically sick at least once. Opting to sleep it off with a near fatal intake of flu tablets, lemsip, paracetamol, malaria tablets and some tiger balm, Lindsay never left his room. Lee on the other hand, spent the day simply walking around the town and enjoying the views. Oh, and the fact that he doesn’t have Typhoid.

Yesterday, we arrived in Vang Vieng after a 4 hour mini-bus journey from Luang Prabang. It was surprisingly rather nice – for once. We jumped aboard and much to our happiness, we found seats with enough leg room to allow us to lay back and stretch out. Bliss. We even had some music to listen to – an Australian lad hooked up his i-pod to the in-car-entertainment-system (a cassette player from the 70’s) and we were treated to some of Ozzy-lands greatest unknown artists. Some were good – the majority were crap. Still, it was better than nothing and so we bounced along Laos hilly roads humming and making up words to a few tunes here and there.

The scenery we passed through was mind blowing and we even managed to stop a couple of times to buy some food stuff and mingle with the locals – here’s a few cute kids (for the ladies) and much to the astounded jaw dropping surprise of Lee, Lindsay for once, gave away some food! Nice of him to do so – this poor lass loved it (it later turned out that Lindsay never did this gesture of goodwill out of any goody-goodyness. He only gave it away because it was rank!)

Back in 2007, before we left Scotland – we made continuous blogs and forum entries all over the webernet in efforts to promote our little ole site. Loads of people replied to our posts and even emailed us directly – offering helpful suggestions, tips and advice as well as giving us loads of challenge ideas and everything else.

Well… one pr*ck wasn’t so positive. Instead of helping fellow humans, he decided to take the w*nk stance and slated every single thing we were embarking to do. His name is Mr Nicky and he works at Hotel Babylon in Vang Vieng.

We visited the premises to “speak” with this guy and hopefully make “peace” with the lad – unfortunately though (for us? for him?) he wasn’t there on the day we came a knocking on his door. Still – we’ll definitely be back in VV so the money spent on those ninja tools won’t go completely to waste. We love you Mr Nicky.

Apparently (according to anonymous people we spoke with within the hotel) it’s crap. Not our opinion – just a random 6 people we spoke with who’s names we never collated.

We did meet a nice person instead though. She went by (and probably still does) the name of Mia and was (and always will be) from Japan. We sat and spoke with her for a while as we were booking into our hotel when out of the blue, she offered to sing us a song. Voice of an Angel but no Japanese Rachel;

You see, Lindsay’s has two reoccurring dreams. One is dying in a plane crash. This dream skips it’s way into Lindsay’s sleepy head about twice every month and has done so since around about 1996. The other is that he will find true love with a girl (unlikely) of Japanese orientation (very unlikely as he can’t even score with a western gal) and who goes by the name of Rachel (highly unlikely if not implausible). In this dream which, probably by now is a nightly occurrence, Lindsay and Japanese Rachel have the sweetest relationship the world has ever known. JR laughs at all his jokes, can make an amazing stir-fry and together they dance and jump through summer meadows. The search continues.

We went tubing today on the river Song and it was one of the best experiences we’ve had in a long time. Never have we been so chilled, so amazed at the surrounding beautiful scenery, so joyous, care free and fun loving and, so intoxicated all at the same time.

We collected an inner tube from no doubt a lorry tyre which thankfully was already inflated for us so there was no need for us to blow it up. A short Tuk-Tuk journey from the centre of town later and we were merely a few miles up the river. Here, we and around 8 friends that we had met on the numerous bus and boats we’ve used since leaving Thailand and in and around Laos itself, we entered the calm waters of the beautiful green and crisp river.

The tranquillity was to last around 2 minutes. This was solely due to the fact that make shift bars have been set up all along the banks of the river and so, we obviously stopped at the first one we came to. Here we purchased a few beers and were given free shots of something alcoholic in content. We never, ever ask what these free shots are – they’re free and that’s all we’ll ever need to know. After these nice wee drinks we proceeded to throw ourselves off a zip-line thingymajig. All perfectly safe, at this point anyway.

This was much the pattern of the day. We tubed for a little while then stopped off at a bar for a beer or two. Music pumped from every twist and bend on the river (well, we say music. There was a constant mix of everything from Happy Hardcore to Indie) each of the bars and the atmosphere was electric. There were hundreds of people on the river and every single one of them was having the time of their lives – us especially!

Probably even more amazing was that we stumbled across the world's youngest bar tender. Child labour – not necessarily a bad thing if it helps you get served quick!

At one bar Lindsay attempted to shake off the girly image he’s managed to impose on himself and so, threw his far from aerodynamic mass of a body off a swing that no other white person would do and this rather entertaining act came much to the detriment of his right bum cheek – he landed squarely on a rock which was covered by no more than 4 foot of water.

The Laosonians have a great view of health and safety laws but, unfortunately for any tourists willing to embark on any of their adventure-type-swings and zip-lines, that view of the principles of health and safety are obscured by huge signs offering free jumps when you buy drink. Amazing really.

Viang Vieng has to be the most amazing place we’ve seen so far. The small town is overlooked by huge mountainous ranges on each of its sides and everything to see is so colourful, so enchanting and so perfect in every sense – on top of this, a huge bottle of Beer Laos is less than 75p – it’s almost heaven on earth! In fact it is heaven on earth.

The night that followed the day of floating, jumping, swinging, swimming, dancing, jumping and drinking brought us a rather bizarre fascination with blue toilet pipes. A Dutch lad by the name of Ray introduced us to these wonderous phenomenon and we haven't stopped taking photos of them since;

We then returned back to our table and told all the lads of our amazing find. Everyone was well impressed except from our friend Jonus (or Joenus or Johnous or Yonus) from who looks rather upset at the fact that we found them first;

Oh, and our body hair still isn’t growing back quick enough – despite spending £18 each on Just For Men Hair Replenisher.

This part of the journal is being written at 15:30 hours on the 5th of March. As our hands stroke the keys of the laptop, we’re cruising along at no more than 12 mph on some river which leads us from one unknown part of Laos to another. We hope that the “another” part is Luang Prabang. If it’s not – we’re lost.

Just found out – that the first unknown part was in fact Hong Sai (just asked a fellow member of our boat). It’s a slow boat (hence the 12 mph walking speed we’re trailing along at) and the scenery is absolutely breath taking. Golden sands stretching along the shallow shorelines of the no-more-than 100 foot-wide murky but nevertheless, beautiful river.

For once, this boat ride is actually rather lovely. No French people have stolen our only water supply and the waters are calm – thus making the ride smooth. As always, to bring a negative (realistic) point to the trip, the boat is over crowded – we’re sure that the safety limit capacity is 90 people. Ours, however, has well over 130.

Yesterday, we left Chaing Mai – picked up by mini-bus at 9am (should have been 8) and endured an ass-numbing squashed ride for 11 hours (which we were told should have been 4) to a guest house in the middle of nowhere and up a very high mountain.

We did however meet some very nice lassies – Cat, Nicky, Steph, Jenna, Rihanna and Hashel. This helped us to bear the insufferable uncomfyness of the day and partial night trip.

When we did eventually arrive at our resting place for the evening, everyone hurried off the open-air taxi, which we swapped over into after reaching the Laos border (where we had to fork out 500 Baht each for overstaying our visa by one day - whoops). Sadly, we weren’t fast enough and as we watched the people in front being ushered into a surprisingly beautiful guest house, we were requested to travel a further 2 minutes down the road to a shack.

It wasn’t all that bad though. Laos (in the mountains) is colder than a bad Scottish summer at night and so we had amazing fun snuggling up to each other under the heaviest and most amazing duvets and quilts in the world… ever.

Fully refreshed, we were woken up at 7am by the Thai/Laos tour guides, we were told that our taxi would be departing at 8am. Cunningly, through experience of the exaggerations (lies) that travel agents tell their customers, we refused to budge from our spoon position until 7:30am – fully in the knowledge that we’d be waiting until at least 9am until any vehicles began to move.

Eventually we did leave and, what a little adventure we had. For 2 hours, we precariously gambled with mountain ledges in a mini-bus that would struggle to make it through the streets of Edinburgh without collapsing from overheating or mechanical exhaustion.

At points, we were no more than 4 inches from the ledge of the snaking mountain roads. You see, we had to descend a drop of at least 792 giraffes on a dirt-track road which was no more than 7 metres in width.

Needless to say, Lindsay crapped himself (but, thankfully not literally for once) and at times, so too did Lee. It was a hairy scary ride.

And so, at about 11am, we boarded the slow boat (aptly named) and headed to Luang Prabang. If it wasn’t for the fact that Beer Laos was sold at a nicey-nice price of less than a quid, we’d have had the worst day ever. Fortunately though, we had enough cash and a carefree spending attitude that meant we were half-cut by the time we reached cruising speed. Bliss.

This part of the world is absolutely mesmerisingly stunning. The scenery is unbelievably lush and the tiny little villages scattered randomly across huge mountains and jungle is a beautiful sight to experience.

The boat trip, we were told, was to last 4 hours. Again, never trusting the Tourist Peeps, we fully anticipated it lasting at least 6 hours – and it did. 6 and a half to be precise.

We arrived at Luang Prabang and immediately hopped on the first tuc-tuc we saw. The driver promised us a nice and cheap guest house and the ride would be free if we stayed there – so, completely forgetting the fact that people tell white lies to us, we naively jumped in and guess what…

The guesthouse did indeed come at a cheap price – 400 Baht between us for the night. And even better, the room turned out to be lovely. Massive pillows, gigantic mattresses and a telly. Woohoo!

So, here we are in Laos and so far so good. Now it’s time to go out and buy some food, more drink and clothes as the ones we have are smelly.

Oh by the way we've not seen Frank in ages. This is the last picture he's sent us - apparently women love gnomes who can kill a man with his hands (and do other things with them too) - tart.

Peace out!

Lindsay and Lee

We've also being filming temples for our Top of the Popes challenge. This is where we have to find the top 10 temples in Asia. Some temples are amazing, some are terrible. Most (again in our opinion) look the same. Bit like a circus. Enough said. Still we'll visit more as we know there are some real special ones still out there. Oh, Frank sent us a postcard, he's been to a few temples himself - apparently it makes a woman crazy when a gnome can talk all spiritually and Godly;

After 3 full on weeks with the pressure of doing so many challenges in quick succession, filming is finished for Thailand and Mark left us for England. We had a good last night together with a few well-deserved beers and managed to chat and have fun as you would if you were on a normal trip. It was great for all of us. We all need to recharge, the last month was manic.

To give a few quick thoughts on Chaing Mai, it is in most parts, an amazing mini-city. The scenery is awe-inspiring and the list of things to do is overwhelming. On a sadder note though, at nights the place changes from an ideal holiday location to a seedy sex-tourist place. Which is a shame really, but not next year when we come with our mates on their stag-do's - a joke!

We're absolutely knackered and are in desperate need of a few Challenge free days. We plan on updating the journal as quickly as we can in Laos. Who knows what the internet speed is like out there? We will now endeavour to keep journals up to date at least twice per week. We should hopefully never be quite as busy as we were in the last few weeks.

Location: Mae Sa Elephant Camp, Thailand

On the 1st of this month, we went to Mae Sa Elephant Camp and met with Kong Hum – a 10 year old grey elephant. Unlike the Tiger Temple (in our opinion), this sanctuary looked like it knew what it was doing and all the animals seemed like they were enjoying themselves.

We had Kong Hum to ourselves for the day and we were to experience working life at an elephant sanctuary. He was bathed, walked, fed and played with. All three of us enjoyed each other's company.

Almost forgetting, we had the delightful task of picking up the elephant dung scattered in somewhat excruciatingly large piles around the sanctuary. Lindsay proved a natural at this, Lee being far more wary. Nevertheless the job was done.

We had a great day out here and enjoyed being with Kong Hum, our new bestest elephant friend. That said, we also met other backpackers who went to another elephant sanctuary about 1½ hours outside Chaing Mai that sounds like it really is a sanctuary for elephants. It has elephants being cared for with 3 legs, broken backs and pelvises etc. These elephants are not working. So perhaps check this place out as an alternative if ever visiting Chaing Mai.

Talking about elephant camps, here's a camp elephant.