Journey toward Laotian capital Vientiane

Nick Claxton has never ventured outside of Europe before but a combination of too many years in London, a lack of proper responsibilities and an unhealthy admiration for Michael Palin now means he is spending a year travelling the globe. A terminally-disorganised 24-year-old taking on the world - solo. Here is his 29th blog entry:

Sunrise in Vang Vieng is supposed to be a bit special. Apparently, misty clouds still hover over the craggy mountains and turn bright reds and pinks as the early morning light catches it.

I never saw it, however. This backpacker haven's assorted bars and their late-night whisky bucket deals wrote off any meaningful activity before 11:00 at least.

Ignoring the tiresome possibility of alcoholism for a moment - should I be worried that most of my updates end with me sitting in a bar and having a beer?! - it must be said that I was hardly the exception in Vang Vieng.

Even though it wasn't high season, there were still enough backpackers following the 'banana pancake trail' through Laos to fill out at least one of the riverside bars at night. And then everyone's days are either spent in recovery or given over to more self-abuse by going tubing again.

But there's more to Vang Vieng than just alcohol, rubber rings, Friends bars and magic mushroom milkshakes, right?

Determined to find out, Naomi, Nik, Briony and I picked up a local map and decided to head out towards the promisingly-named Blue Lagoon.

Renting motorbikes for the day was a cinch (40,000 kip [£3]) and after filling up, we crossed the disused airfield (used by the CIA´s covert airline Air America during the Vietnam War) and headed out of town.

Having only learnt to drive a bike back in India, the 'challenging' quality of the roads and rickety bridges agitated me slightly - though I'm sure Briony clinging on behind me was more worried! But we all arrived in one piece at the base of the cliffs where in the shade lay a spring-fed lagoon. Even quieter than Vang Vieng, it was perfect for relaxing, swimming in the lagoon among the carp and playing on the rope swing.

Plus above us was the Golden Cave, which after a short while I clambered up to explore (10,000 kip (£1) entry fee). The makeshift bamboo ladder leads you straight up the mountainside for about ten or fifteen minutes before a plateau with the cave entrance. A short but slippery walk inside brought me to the Sleeping Golden Buddha statue, perched perilously close to a steep drop into blackness.

Gifts of incense left by earlier visitors still smouldered, though it was eerily cool and peaceful inside the cave. Before heading back down to the lagoon, I spent almost twenty minutes marvelling at the near-silence - broken only by quiet drips water or the leathery swoosh of bats.

We spent another night in Vang Vieng's backpacker-friendly bliss before continuing south to Vientiane, the capital of Laos. Unsurprisingly, a capital city of just 200,000 people bears no comparison to some of south-east Asia's other bustling hubs and, like everywhere else in Laos, life in Vientiane runs at a seductive, slow pace that is just so easy to fall into.

Nothing seems urgent - and to be honest, we found there's not actually a lot to do in any case. Strolling around town and nosing around Vientiane's temples takes an afternoon or so, while also worth your time are a few monuments like the Pha That Luang, the national symbol of Laos.

But with the Lao National Museum closed for renovation, Vientiane's colonial charm was all that was left to enjoy.

Truly caught up in the lackadaisical Laotian lifestyle, we ventured gingerly from our quiet hostel whenever we gathered enough energy - either to or take dips in the pool of one of the larger hotels or just people-watch in cafes along the Mekong. Each evening, we'd find a place on the banks of the river and just enjoy the soft breeze, the good company and a beer as we watched the deep red sun setting dramatically over Thailand just across the water.

Maybe it was because I knew my time in south-east Asia was coming to an end, but I savoured this inactivity in Vientiane. For the previous few months, part of my brain had always been looking forward to where I was heading next. Each stop offered something slightly new and different to explore - which always made it easier to move on even if I loved where I was.

I could have stayed on Tioman Island forever, but the promise of discovering Kuala Lumpur dragged me away. Siem Reap and the Angkor temples possessed a magical charm, but my dark fascination with Cambodia's recent past pulled me to Phnom Penh. But now all that was left was returning to Bangkok - a vibrant, enthralling place for sure, but no longer a complete mystery to me.

In fact, the only new things Bangkok promised were goodbyes as our little group that had somehow been thrown together over the past few months was splitting up. Some were going home, others were carrying on their travels around Thailand and me… well, I was going to take a slight detour…

But that was all still to come. For now, we had another perfect south-east Asian sunset to enjoy - sitting in a bar, drinking a beer. Again.

Nicolas Claxton