We had stopoffs along the way, they showed us local people making rice, paper, and rice paper. Things like that. I had two shots of some kind of liquor that came from a huge jar filled with dead snakes, scorpions and a dead chicken. It wasn't too bad.
On the last night we stayed in this boat-hotel thing, I left my bag locked in the room while I went upstairs to eat, and some fuck stole $400 from it. I asked the tour guide to call the police, probably about seven or eight times. He just decided to be a total prick about it, and complain about the trouble I was causing him. It's 11 o'clock and he's tired, boo fucking hoo, or the police are asleep, or when he called nobody was there. Who answered the phone then, genius, I asked. Oh, there's one guy there. But he can't leave. In the morning, I tried again. He wouldn't call. Because the police would "kick you [ie me]" and/or only arrest the Chinese guy I was sharing a room with who wasn't on the boat when it happened, and completely ignore the staff who were shady as hell and had a spare key. The boat to Cambodia was leaving, there was nothing left I could do, so I called him a cunt a few times and resigned myself to the loss.
The previous day was cool though, I got drunk with a Canadian guy at lunch next to a giant statue of Ho Chi Minh.
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