We take a local bus from Phongsali to Laung Prabang. Of course it's the obligatory 50minutes late and as it rocks up I just start laughing. This bus looks like a hand-me-down from rural India. The entire back window is missing and has been boarded up with MFD attached by ropes leaving large gaps all the way around the sides. Our bags are lifted and tide onto the roof and we hop on board. Speeding along a dirt track cut out of the mountain in a mining region, in the dry season kicks up massive dust clouds which, as most of the windows are smashed or jammed open, billow inside the bus so that everyone on-board has to wear a dust mask or some sort of material over their mouths to protect their lungs. As we bounce along the stone laden road like this, I keep optimistically saying to Niki, "the road should get a lot better at some point", but it doesn't. We are the only falang on the bus; at one point a female member of the bus staff invited us to eat with them, a kind act, but one that seemed more out of pity than desire to interact with us. We make it into Laung Prabang around midnight (very late for Laos standards so everything is closed) and to make it just that little bit more difficult for ourselves, we decide to walk the 5Km into town with our 20kilo bags to hunt for a bed for the night. After 14 hours on the bumpy bus, this is pretty painful. Unexpectedly we bump into a Buddhist night procession on the way; a large group of families and individuals were walking through the streets carrying offerings of candles, incense and flowers. This unexpected moment of calm delight manages to quell rising frustrations and after some searching we find a cheap, decent bed for the night. Ahhh, getting back to Laung Prabang certainly felt like an arduous journey but we made it!