We got into a great little routine in the evenings of lying in our hammocks listening to music, maybe with a couple of beers, smoking cigarettes and watching the river flow by. Simply idyllic.
I've been to some pretty beautiful locations in my time in good company, but the combination of good company, Beerlao, menthol cigarettes and hammocks is a first for me.
A typical day here goes something like this - get up when you feel like it, wander round to the cafe to eat breakfast (which typically takes half an hour to arrive - the locals never rush in Laos) and maybe read your book while you're waiting or lay on the floor with a pillow. After a leisurely breakfast head back and take a shower. You have now concluded the most stressful part of your day.
After your shower take a leisurely walk back to one of the restaurants, find a nice spot to lay-down with a good view of the river. Order a coconut shake and play cards. Repeat until you get hungry at about 6 o'clock. Order some food and another shake. Play some more cards and you and your friends may or may not want to have a few beers now.
Later on, retire to your hammocks to listen to music, drink another Beerlao and, if you're a smoker, have the odd cigarette. If you're a toker, have a joint of Laos's cheap 'happy-tobacco' (I'm not a toker, parents ;-).
Whilst laying in my hammock on one of these evenings, educating my Dutch friend on the finer points of Pink Floyd's best music, I was high on a combination of great music, great company, menthol tobacco, a couple of Beerlaos and a sublime location and view of the river Mekong with the mountains in the distance.
I felt so good I could burst.
I checked in on myself - I tested myself to see if I could put a dent in it. I thought about the things that usually bother me in darker moments. I quietly considered the fact that I am 32 and have no wife, no children and a shaky career and financial position.
It was blissful to find that none of these things bothered me in the slightest right now.
Even whilst actively considering these facts, I still felt like I was on Cloud 9.
At this moment, genuinely, none of these things bothered me at all - they made no dent in my blissful state. It didn't seem to matter at all.
I carried on looking out onto the beautiful Mekong with David Gilmour's guitar solo building, my hammock slowly swinging in the cool breeze and a slow, rapturous smile spreading across my face.
