Escape from LA (OS)

So I'm back in Thailand and once again on a sleeper train. I have to say I love these things, they basically act like mobile hotels (and are nicer than a couple of the hotels I've stayed in so far).

I rocked up at the travel agent who I booked my ticket through in Vientiane to find his door locked, even though it was ten minutes before my agreed pick up time. I had visions of him running off with my 1050 baht (20ish quid) - incidentally that's almost twice the average weekly wage in Laos - with all the phone calls the previous day having been a bluff.

Fortunately he eventually showed up - as did my lift. We took a pick up truck to the border, where I paid my 3000 kip (20-25p) stamping out bribe... sorry I mean fee and left behind the first communist country that I've visited. And I'll be honest, second to Zambia, probably the happiest. The people here have a wonderfully laid back attitude that if we could all copy would make the world a happier place.

Anyway at the border I got on the first of my two trains for the 15 minute jump to Thailand. and other than nearly mangling a car on what can only be called a level crossing because the rail and road were at roughly the same height the journey passed without event. Two stamps and a second Thai visa later I sat myself down for the hour's wait between two the trains. I put down my bags - which incidentally I've worked out now weight more than a third of my body weight - and relaxed. my bags however caught the interest of a local dog who came sniffing over. Then came the fastest move I've made in weeks, as that scruffy little bastard cocked his leg I managed to snatch my bag up to head height while simultaneously aiming a kick at him. After considering his options he slunk off and I - in case he'd gone for reinforcements - made for the train.

On the train I met Lazslo, a Hungarian American retiree lawyer who was apparently part of the firm who defended James Earl Ray ( the man who shot Martin Luther King Jr.). Apparently during this time he received death threats. He was now living in Thailand with his Thai wife. We had a laugh for a couple of hours, until the train official insisted we go to bed at 9.30. During this time he shared with me several interesting theories - including the idea that the JFK assassination was the work of the French Secret Service, and that he (Laszlo) was meant to be a passenger on Pan-Am flight 103 (the one blown up over Lockerbie) until he turned up at the airport to find his reservation mysteriously cancelled.

Just before bed time he asked to buy my lower bunk ticket for 500B and his upper bunk, on account of his prostate problems. To stave off further details - and because I liked the idea of two nights accommodation for nothing - I agreed. Felt like I got a good deal.

In the morning when I woke up Laszlo was gone. Had he disappeared in the night to the Bangkok suburbs or was he just a figment of my overtired imagination?