I’m on what counts for a ferry in this part of the world, two narrow boats interconnected by a wooden platform, forming a kind of catamaran with a long tail outboard in the back. Me and my bike are the only passengers, the driver, sitting at a wheel of rebar and controlling the motor with his foot, is a middle aged man with sunburnt skin, wearing a stereotypical Asian conical rice hat. The river, wide and brown, flowing sluggishly by, is dotted by little green islets. Some are big enough for houses, others just a few feet across. Up above the sun shining down on me from a cloudless sky.
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