Hanging a Left

Due to time constraints my northernly progress was halted and I decided that I needed to take a left. Or a trip west into Laos if you want specifics.
Arranging transport across a border is always a crapshoot. Inevitably plans, people, and modes of travel become sketchier around a border. So when booking passage from Hoi An to Savannakhet, Laos from one of the many booking agents I was a bit surprised when she said that because the border was not open 24 hours, the group I was to be travelling with ("yes, yes, there will be other travellers on the bus" she stated) will be spending the night in the dormitory of a guesthouse in a town neighboring the border. This prospect sort of intrigued me. Mostly because I began to think how interesting it would be to take say the passsengers on a subway carriage or other public transport and force all the people spend the night somewhere. You know, find out what really makes that old man tick that is manically jabbering to himself, or what is really bothering that goth kid giving everyone the stare down. But really this was not NYC, and the bus passengers were probably going to be the regular backpacker crew that is more or less cut from the same cloth, so the concept actually isnt that cool.
Due to the ridiculous business manner in which this trips are usually done, you buy a ticket from a booking office and basically you are at the mercy of what company they outsource the actual transporting. On a given trip you may come under the "care" for about 5 different transport "companies." This was to be my case on this particular trip. In the game of cards I drew and 7/2 offsuit and started on on a crappy bus that became crappier as I was transferred continously from one to another. And yes I was the only one going to Laos. So the grand social experiment of the public bus dormitory lock-in consisted of me being told to get off of the bus in some non-descript town near the border and to ride on the back of a motor scooter to some family's house, where I was to sleep before being put back on a bus in the morning. The tally marks in the weird experiences column on this trip just reached 65 by the way.
So early the next morning with my mode of transport slowly digressing from a bus to inevitably a Fred Flinstone car, I reached the border. As as the only westerner there, the moneychangers were on me like the proverbial stink on shit. It was a pretty painless ordeal however and amazingly after a brief staredown and prodding my last bus driver ditched his initial plans of leaving me there and pocketing the rest of my fare and grudgingly paid another driver to drive me the rest of the route in Laos.
Refreshingly the people in Laos are very laid back and don't quite have the nose for the tourist dollar like the Vietnamese do. I spent my first two nights in the quiet Mekong rivertown Savannakhet. This morning I woke up and drew another bad card hand and had a 6 hour bus ride where they packed them in like sardines. I was lucky in the sense that I had a window seat as I was able to drape my shoulder and right arm out the window the entire journey. I was not worried about possible loss of limb during the trip as the blood had left my arm in the first hour and the severation would have been painless.
On a good note, I am currently Couchsurfing with a nice older French couple who have a nice pad and great info on what to do in the area.