A day of brilliant glimpses each deserving its photo.

The early morning market with delicate light down a narrow wooden-housed lane overhung with trees. Full of bunches of green-ness, red, purple, brown and orange flowers and vedge; meat and frying sauces, grilled meat and herbs; impossibly long plucked chicken legs with terodactyl claws. And small birds cheeping in tiny cages. I tell Ul's they are for bird paste: upsets his day and makes mine.

A fine old temple. Black, red and gold with stacked up wooden eves, glowing in the morning light and story telling. On the side of the outbuildings are turquoise, silver, bottle green and royal blue glass mosaics of stylized daily life: man eats monkey; tiger eats rabbit; tiger bitten by snake; cat watches mouse; man hangs from tree.

We're on comedy bikes again and head across the river on the motorbike bridge: time and noise stop as we peddle furiously, suspended above the river and focusing on not falling off the central planks.

A Wat less visited in the evening light with prayer flags, evening sun and young trainee monks in orange: a friendly kitten the only welcome committee.

And sunset over the Meakong at the bar at the end of the universe. Iconic setting sun over red water, silhouetted hills and reflected boats - and three busy dogs controlling the fishermen and other goings on.