Not five minutes down the road we picked up three more people, exceeding the original 21. One sat on the metal-hinged door on the back of the truck, the other two hung-on railings and stood on a metal platform attached to the outside of the truck.

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The four Israelis began playing "Name that Movie," luckily quoting mostly American Hollywood movies. We joined in and quickly made friends with Hajit, Yael, Gilli, and Danna. The next game Hajit introduced was the alphabet game. One person would say the alphabet in their head. Another would yell STOP. The person who had been thinking the alphabet would say what letter they had landed on. Then, the first person who could come up with a song that began with the letter and could sing at least four lines would get a point. This led to much laughing and mostly off-key singing. The other passengers in the truck looked at us strangely but joined in our laughter.

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Danna explained that we happened to be traveling on Passover. I queried about Israeli Passover traditions. Each person subsequently described his or her family's specific traditions and what was served at their own Seders. All our mouths watered as we munched our meager supply of dry coconut cookies and shrimp chips. This led to the telling of the Passover story. One person would begin in English, then others would stop them in Hebrew. A debate would ensue in Hebrew, they would all confirm their decision, and then the story would be delivered in English. Intermittently Hebrew Passover songs, and "Let My People Go", were sung. As it was an eight-hour truck ride, we got the long version of Moses' journey to the Promised Land. It was a wonderful way to pass the time.

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The road itself was a disaster, barely a dirt path. Burdened by our load we slowly put-putted up the mountains. We crossed streams where all the men would have to get out and push. Luckily it was the dry season, as the road is impassable during the monsoons. Occasionally we would stop in small villages. One person would get off. Just in time for us to stretch out our legs in back, a new person would hop on.

Even though comfort was lacking, the company was entertaining and the scenery was magnificent. Most of the journey was spent in the jungle. From the size of the huge banyan and kapok trees, we hypothesized that we were in primary forests. The sun shone brightly overhead. The bright-blue expansive sky contrasted with the dense emerald green forest. We were the only car on the road.

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Between the scenery, story telling and singing, the time actually passed quite quickly. At 5:45pm we arrived in Huay Xai. Dying to get to Chiang Kong in order to check email, both Will and Danna prayed that the boarder was still open. A jumbo drove up immediately, and asked us if we wanted to go to Thailand. Without a second thought we threw our packs in. Gilli made a revving motion with his hand, the driver stepped on the gas. We bolted for the immigration office.

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After breezing through the two person outdoor office we piled our packs and ourselves into two longboats and headed across the Mekong River. We could see Thailand. After five minutes we had arrived on Thai soil. It was two minutes to six; we had just made immigration. The offices closed at 6pm sharp.

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Will and I said our good-byes to our new friends and got into a Motorcycle tuk-tuk headed for a hotel recommended by a friend in Luang Num Tha. It was located right on the river. Lao was bathed in the purple hue of the sunset reflected off the Mekong. After checking email, we drank a Singha and toasted our arrival in Thailand.

Friday morning we awoke refreshed if only a little sore on the backend. We went out to find a bus to Bangkok. The first place we went, recommended by the internet shop keeper, was sold out. So was the second. They recommended a third operation down the street. Luckily they still had seats. Our bus to Bangkok would head out at 2:30pm. The hard part was over. All that we needed to get through was an 800 Km (500 mile), 14-hour ride on a paved road in a luxury AC bus with reclining seats and a toilet.

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After a leisurely lunch at the hotel, Will went in search of a tuk tuk to take us to the bus. As the tuk tuk pulled into the drive, my intestinal bug reared its ugly head. I popped some Immodium. There was no backing out now.

We boarded the bus. It was a large tour-sized affair, tall with picture windows and seats high off the ground. Our seats were at the back, flush against the wall. There would be no reclining. The overhead lights did not work. The toilet was just behind us. Tinny Thai pop blared over the speakers. Time passed very slowly. I battled with the not-so-gentleman in front of me, kneeing his back every time he slammed down his reclining seat. As the night wore on, the opening and shutting of the toilet door brought waves of sewer smells to our luxury seats enhancing my feelings of nausea.

By midnight I had drifted off into a light sleep. I was abruptly awoken by the bus shaking back and forth. It was careening, seemingly out of control, to avoid colliding with the truck in front of it. We veered onto the shoulder. Will and I were both sure the top-heavy bus was going to roll. White knuckled, we braced and waited for the inevitable. Luckily all the wheels returned to the pavement and we pulled back onto the road.

Will had been awake the whole time. "The driver is driving like a maniac, " he exclaimed. People on the bus, all Thai except us, were screaming. But the driver would not slow. He tailgated mercilessly: sports cars, fuel trucks, army trucks. Using my watch and mile markers on the side of the road, we clocked him at 120kmph, 30km over the posted 90. We whizzed by everything and every other car on the road. The bus was swaying back and forth as we accelerated around blind curves. We rode the rest of the trip sitting bolt upright. I held on to the Virgin Mary given to me by my grandmother. I thought we were going to die.

At 2:30am, two hours ahead of schedule, we stopped in the middle of nowhere, in the outskirts of Bangkok. Cabs were waiting. I thanked Mary we arrived in one piece. Will wrote down the license plate of the bus as I threw my Endless Journey pack into the cab. In 20 minutes we arrived at our home-away-from-home in Bangkok, the $16-dollar-a-night New World Lodge Hotel. Once we arrived in the room, I kissed the green linoleum floor.

3:15am, Saturday morning, April 22nd Will and I headed out for the street vendor on the alley next to the New World. We ordered a Pad Thai with tofu and a Singha. We toasted to our arrival in Bangkok.

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After almost forty-eight hours of travel by songtheaw, boat, jumbo, tuk tuk, taxi and rogue VIP luxury bus, I think we finally earned our Traveler's Overland Merit Badge. The tales of this journey will undoubtedly make a fine addition to our story repertoire. Next time though, I think I'll fly.