Si Phan Dhon – Four Thousand Islands

The hammock is rocking slowly back and forth, causing a slight soothing wind, caressing my skin. There’s an opened book on my lap, laying upside down, rising and falling to the slow rhythm of my breathing, longing for some attention it won’t get, not yet. Somewhere in the background there’s a speaker on, playing chilled out tunes that mixes with the singing of birds, crowing of roosters and the infrequent purr of a motorbike passing on the narrow mud street behind the bungalows. The Mekong River, dotted with thousands of small lush green islands, is floating lazily by; the water now and then interrupted by narrow river boats making their way on the mighty river delta and a few backpackers in black tubes, moving down the river, slowly, slowly. Water, mixed with salty sweat, keeps dripping from my soaked clothes and hair down unto the wooden patio. It won’t be too long until I’ll stand under the shower head again, fully dressed, hoping for the non-heated water to actually be cold, or maybe just slip into the river for a short swim – but no, not yet. My eyes close and I doze off – it’s siesta time.

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