Two Wheels, Three Countries, One Unforgettable Ride
Thailand (14.1), Laos (7) & Thailand (15)
2,422 Km – 51 Days
11
February - 2 April 2018
MAP
PHOTOS - THAILAND (15)
PHOTOS - LAOS (7)
PHOTOS - THAILAND (14.1)
Every
journey begins with a plan.
After returning from Malaysia, I spent a few
days in Jomtien doing what all sensible cycle tourers do before a big cycling
trip: nervously checking my gear for the tenth time and wondering whether I’d
forgotten something crucial… like common sense.
Janice and Chris were about to join me for a
two-month cycling odyssey across Southeast Asia. They loved camping, which
meant my tent and gear had to be in top form—no leaks, no excuses.
I was excited to meet them… but also slightly
anxious. Had I planned the right route? Would they love it? Would they secretly
wish they’d booked a beach holiday instead?
Of course, this is Southeast Asia—plans are
more of a gentle suggestion than a rule. Out here, the road decides.
And that’s exactly the fun of it.
CHAPTER 1
THAILAND (14.1) - Tuk‑Tuks,
Temples, Sugarcane, and One Very Determined Monkey Mafia
825 Km – 19 Days
Bangkok:
Baptism by Fire (and Fried Insects)Bangkok
didn’t ease us in gently. It didn’t even pretend to. It simply grabbed us by
the shoulders, shouted “WELCOME!”, and shoved us straight into the deep end.
When
Janice and Chris finally emerged from their heroic 24‑hour journey from Cape
Town—creased, dazed, and blinking like newborn owls—we did what any responsible
adults would do: we marched directly to Khao San Road, the spiritual home of
questionable decisions.
Jet
lag? Ignored. Hydration? Beer counts. Obviously.
Within
minutes, Chris and I were clutching ice‑cold drinks and sampling Bangkok’s more
“character‑building” delicacies: crickets, frogs, silkworms, grasshoppers…
basically the entire cast of A Bug’s Life, lightly seasoned with soy sauce and
a sprinkle of regret. Janice wisely supervised from a safe distance,
documenting our poor choices for future blackmail.
Chris,
however, embraced Banglampu like a man auditioning for the Street Food
Olympics. He raided passing carts with the enthusiasm of someone who had never
met a digestive system.
It
became clear very quickly: this trip was not going to be boring.
A
“Sunset Cruise”… Sort Of
Our
first morning together began with bicycle reassembly and mild panic. The
guesthouse was closing, the bike boxes needed a home, and suddenly our relaxing
start morphed into a logistical escape room.
Once
we’d secured alternative accommodation (and our sanity), I treated the group to
my budget version of a “sunset cruise”: the public ferry. We rode it all the
way to the end of the line, then back again, letting the Chao Phraya breeze
wash over us like a discount spa treatment.
Dusk
painted the sky in colours that made us forget the chaos, the heat, and the
fact that we’d eaten insects voluntarily. We ended the evening with street food
and cold beer, congratulating ourselves on surviving Day One.
Bangkok
at Dawn: The Peace Behind the Madness
At 6
a.m., Bangkok transforms from a neon fever dream into something almost holy.
Barefoot monks glided through the streets collecting alms, the Royal Palace
glowed in the early light, and for a brief moment, we felt like we had the city
entirely to ourselves.
It
was magical. It was serene. It was also the last peaceful moment we’d have
before attempting to cycle in Bangkok traffic.
Test
Ride: Survival Mode Activated
Cycling
in Bangkok is like joining a live‑action video game where the tuk‑tuks are the
bosses and you have no extra lives.
We
dodged scooters, taxis, food carts, and at least one confused chicken. After
ten minutes, we collectively decided that perhaps Bangkok was best explored by
ferry and on foot. A wise and possibly life‑saving conclusion.
The
ferry whisked us to Chinatown, and later we marvelled at the newly renovated
Temple of Dawn—proof that Bangkok contains both chaos and breathtaking beauty
in equal measure.
The
Journey Begins: Escape from Bangkok
Our
official “start” involved… a taxi. Because sometimes the greatest adventure is
knowing when not to cycle.
Taxi4Bikes
arrived with roof racks, wheel covers, and the kind of calm efficiency that
made us suspicious. Were we still in Thailand?
Thirty
kilometres later, we rolled out from Rangsit Station, waved goodbye to Bangkok,
and pointed our wheels toward Ayutthaya.
Almost
instantly, everything changed.
The
city dissolved behind us, replaced by quiet canals, banana plantations, rice
paddies, and locals cooking meals that smelled far too good for people who had
eaten insects the day before.
Ayutthaya:
Ruins, Rewards, and a Well‑Earned Beer
We
settled into a charming wooden schoolhouse and immediately hunted down food. A
pavement restaurant delivered a feast and an ice‑cold beer that tasted like
victory.
The
next morning, we explored Ayutthaya’s ancient ruins—once the capital of Siam,
once the largest city in the world, now a hauntingly beautiful UNESCO site.
History, tragedy, grandeur… and us, sweating profusely among the temples.
Heat,
Elephants, and Unexpected Detours
We
set off at 7 a.m., chasing the illusion of “cool morning air.” It lasted
approximately 14 minutes.
An
elephant kraal stirred complicated emotions—majestic creatures, ancient
traditions, and the uncomfortable reality of chains.
As
the heat intensified, we veered onto a dirt track lined with sun‑dried fish and
enormous Buddha statues, because why not? Eventually, we reached Lopburi just
in time for Chinese New Year celebrations—music, fireworks, traditional dress,
and enough colour to make a peacock feel underdressed.
Lopburi:
Monkeys Take Over (And Honestly, They Win)
The
forecast said 38°C. We said: “Absolutely not.”
Instead,
we explored Lopburi, a city where ancient ruins coexist with a monkey population
that behaves like a furry mafia. They steal snacks, inspect bags, and run the
town with unapologetic confidence.
At
the Monkey Temple, I lost track of time watching their antics—chaotic,
charming, and slightly terrifying. Leave anything unattended and it was theirs.
Toward
the Dam: Heat 1, Cyclists 0
We
set off early, but the heat still found us. An organic market offered exotic
foods and herbal remedies, but mostly we just wanted water.
By
evening, we reached Pasak Jolasit Dam and camped under shady trees. Ordering
dinner without speaking Thai was a gamble, but the flavours were spectacular.
Sunrise,
Sugarcane, and Suspicious Rustling
Morning
at the dam was bliss—coffee, oats, and a sun fighting through haze from nearby
sugarcane farms.
We
cycled past cassava plantations and a giant White Buddha where we observed
circumambulation rituals. Then came sugarcane workers, rustling fields, and my
imagination inventing snakes, rats, and possibly dragons.
At
the Wangkanlueang waterfall, we found a picnic spot where we enjoyed juicy
watermelon while our feet dabbled in the cool stream.
Janice’s
flat tyre took longer than expected, but eventually we reached Wat Nong Bong,
where monks offered mats, and Janice took on the morning storytelling duties.
Chris cooked noodles; monks chanted; stars twinkled. It was perfect.
Temple
Life: Hospitality, Noodles, and Starry Skies
We
started our morning with a breakfast of fried noodles courtesy of the
monks—simple yet delicious! Janice took a moment to engage the local school
kids about our planned ride for the day, sparking curiosity and excitement in
their eyes. Inspired by their enthusiasm, we tackled a little bike maintenance,
figuring out how to adjust the disc brakes on Janice’s bicycle. Although we
were beginners in bike mechanics, a quick YouTube search helped us get the
wheel moving smoothly again, and soon enough, we were back on the road!
We
rode through sugarcane country, paused at Si Chep Historical Park, and waited
out the heat like lizards on a rock.
By
late afternoon, Chris revived, and we pushed on to another temple. The monks
welcomed us warmly; the temple dogs… less so.
Chris
needed ice for his diabetic medication, so our evening revolved around
Operation Ice Cube.
Dust,
Mud, and Monks on the Move
We
left at 5 a.m. under a smoky haze, navigating muddy tracks, two‑wheeled
tractors, and monks collecting food.
The
temple that night was basic—dusty shelter, dirt yard—but we swept, dusted the
Buddha, lit incense, and made it home.
Climbs,
Villages, and Culinary “Experiments”
The
first 15 km were uphill. Relentlessly uphill. The kind of uphill that makes you
question your life choices. After about 10 kilometres, a smaller path veered
off, steering us away from a higher peak. Despite the challenge, the ride
remained breathtaking as we meandered through stunning rural lanes. As our path
descended into charming little villages, the locals observed us with wonder.
We
rode through a typical Thai rural area, where families relaxed in hammocks
under their stilted wooden homes while children played freely, and livestock
grazed unbothered. Our muddy trail eventually led us to a paved road that
showcased fascinating distant scenery, with majestic mountains rising to our
right.
By
around 3 PM, we arrived at the small village of Ban Non-Sa-at. Here, the local
temple offered us another camping spot. Like the previous night, it required a
bit of sweeping in the half-covered hall and a gentle dusting of the Buddha to
prepare our sleeping quarters.
Dinner
was a mix of noodle soup, sardines, and Chris’s sardine‑noodle fusion cuisine.
Not gourmet, but edible.
Raincoats,
Fruit Feasts, and Remote Adventures
We
overslept, woke to torrential rain, and packed slowly under the downpour.
Plastic raincoats: engaged.
A
roadside cart gifted us watermelon; a shop owner gifted us bananas; we created
a fruit salad that tasted like salvation.
Ban
Huabua felt like a village that had never hosted foreigners. The temple was
silent, the monk helpful, the sleeping quarters… rustic. Dinner: cup noodles.
Again.
Speed,
Sunrises, and Mystery Meat
A
chilly morning revived us. Chris sped ahead like a man possessed; Janice and I
admired lotus ponds, cows, smoky stalls, and butchers selling mystery cuts.
With
regular rest stops for hydration, we sped through the kilometres. Lunchtime
brought a brief nap for Chris, recharging his energy for the ride to Ban Thaen.
A sip of refreshing coconut juice along the way invigorated us further. Upon
reaching the temple in Ban Thaen, we sought permission to camp from a monk
sweeping the grounds. His half-hearted gesture left us unsure about our fate.
A
quick exploration led us to a local store, where I grabbed a bowl of soup, only
to discover it contained some bony, but surprisingly tasty, mystery meat. In
Thailand, flavours never disappoint: "Aroi mak-mak!" as they say.
Khon
Kaen: Civilisation (and Air Conditioning!)
We
slept under the stars, mosquito coils burning, temple dogs behaving. Morning
gongs and howling dogs woke us with enthusiasm.
The
ride to Khon Kaen was beautiful—villages, buffalo, Sunday chores, charcoal
making. A 7‑Eleven saved us from melting.
A
bike shop fixed my wheel wobble for 20 baht (daylight robbery in reverse). We
checked into a hotel and revelled in air‑conditioning like royalty.
Our
rest day in Khon Kaen was a mix of light chores and exploration. Laundry piled
up, and we set off to shop for headlamps, then returned to the bike shop for
headset extensions for Janice and Chris. As evening fell, Chris surprised us
with Cape Velvet Liqueur, a delightful end to a productive day.
Final
Stretch: To the Mekong
We
set off before sunrise, full of energy and questionable optimism. Main roads
lacked charm but offered facilities—and bamboo crafts that tempted us at every
turn.
From
Ban Pa Kho Temple to Wat Pho Chum Pattanaram, we drew curious stares. Foreign
cyclists were clearly a novelty.
The
next day brought rolling hills, wildflowers, children’s laughter, and the kind
of scenery that makes you forget your legs are screaming.
Reaching
Nong Khai, we gravitated to the Mekong River. Our last Thai sunset was pure
magic—golden light shimmering across the water, a perfect farewell before
crossing into Laos.
What
a day. What a country. What a ride.
The Mekong, a Sunset, and a
Soft Goodbye
By the time
we reached the Mekong, Thailand had thoroughly worked its way under our
skin—partly through affection, partly through humidity.We had
pedalled through heat that felt personal, slept in temples that smelled faintly
of incense and dog, eaten meals whose ingredients we chose not to investigate,
and been welcomed by monks, farmers, shopkeepers, and one very confused man
selling coconuts at 7 a.m.We had been
chased by weather, blessed by strangers, stared at by entire villages, and
occasionally defeated by hills that looked innocent until we were halfway up
them.And then,
suddenly, there was the Mekong—wide, calm, golden in the late afternoon light.
A river that didn’t rush or roar, but simply existed with the confidence of
something that has seen centuries of travellers come and go.
CHAPTER 2123 LAOS (7) A
Bicycle Adventure Across the Mekong486 Km – 11 Days
Crossing into Laos: A Small Problem with a Big
Bridge
We rolled out of Nong Khai full of
excitement—new country, new roads, new adventures. Ten kilometres later… we
were already in trouble. The Friendship Bridge stretched ahead of us like a
grand gateway into Laos, and cycling across the Mekong felt like one of those
“this is what travel is all about” moments. Right up until immigration. That’s
when the officials calmly pointed out a tiny oversight:
No exit stamps.
In other words, we hadn’t technically left
Thailand. Cue a very quick U-turn. We pedalled back across the bridge, slightly
less triumphant than before, hastily filled in the forms, and returned once
again—this time officially exported.
Second attempt? Success. Laos, we were finally
in!
Once
in laidback Vientiane, we had the perfect opportunity to stretch our legs and
explore the city. The search for new SIM cards, an ATM, and food was an
adventure in itself! Dinner awaited us at one of the many restaurants lining
the riverfront. Even at 9 p.m., the heat was relentless, wrapping around us
like a warm blanket. The weather forecast for the next few days wasn’t looking
favourable for biking, with temperatures expected to soar to 36˚C-38˚C. Yet,
watching Janice and Chris battle the heat like seasoned pros gave me
confidence. As long as we kept our days manageable, I thought we’d be just
fine.
Embracing
the Heat - Monuments, Mysteries, and a “Vertical Runway”
We started early
the next morning—because in Laos, your window of comfort is roughly sunrise to
“why are we doing this again?”
Our
first stop was the iconic Patuxay Monument, Vientiane’s very own Arc de
Triomphe. The backstory fascinated me: this monument was constructed with
cement donated by the USA, initially intended for a new airport. Now, it’s
humorously dubbed the “vertical runway.” The history alone brought the
structure to life.
Next
on our journey was Pha That Luang, a stunning 16th-century Buddhist stupa
steeped in history. Built atop the remains of previous temples, it served as a
reminder of the region's rich cultural heritage. We stood in awe, gazing at the
reclining Buddha sculpted to represent the historical Buddha at the moment of
his parinirvana—truly a sight to behold.
We had
plans to visit Buddha Park next, but the road conditions were so rough that
biking became a chore, and we had to make the tough call to skip it in favour
of the main road. Chris, however, was a trooper and managed to pedal his way to
our destination without stopping for lunch or a nap—what a champ!
Unexpected
Generosity (and Very Careful Beer Management)
We
finally stopped at a roadside guesthouse, where a humble restaurant served up
delightful noodle soup. A group of locals sat nearby, smiling, chatting…
and then suddenly started buying us beers.
One turned into two… which could very quickly
have turned into “we’re not cycling anywhere tomorrow.” So we thanked them
enthusiastically, laughed a lot, and quietly activated what I call strategic
restraint.
And
so, our adventure continued, full of unexpected twists and stories waiting to
be told. Each moment a colourful brushstroke in our travel tale, painting an
unforgettable picture of life on the road.
The Case of the
Missing Glasses (and the 100 km Surprise)
We set off early again, chasing cooler air and
long shadows. About 15 kilometres in—perfect rhythm, good pace—Janice suddenly
realised something crucial: Her reading glasses were gone. Backtracking began. Chris
and I continued slowly ahead, assuming she’d catch up soon. She didn’t. After a
while, the message came through:
She’d missed the regroup point entirely… and
ended up all the way back at the start. At this point, there was nothing to do
but stick to the plan—ride until 1 p.m., check in, and wait. Eventually, Janice
rolled in, having
conquered a whopping 100 kilometres on her own! Talk about determination! Major
kudos to you, Janice, for your first solo ride and hitting the century mark—you
absolutely crushed it!
Temple Hospitality:
Cleaning Before Check-In
The next morning greeted us with an unexpected chill, prompting me
to make a quick stop for a long-sleeved sweater. It’s always a bit of a gamble
with the clothing racks outside restaurants—are they for sale or just laundry?
After our leisurely half-day rides, we often arrived at our destinations too
early, needing to ask if we could camp before the sun fully warmed the day.
Upon reaching the Pakkading Buddhist temple, the friendly monks
showed us a clean room, but not before we rolled up our sleeves for a little
scrubbing! The building looked fresh, but the bathroom? Not so much. Just as we
settled in, the head monk arrived with a surprise: we were to move to the
basement! Stepping into the substantial tiled room, we noticed it desperately
needed some TLC. It felt like a place intended for those down on their luck or
perhaps a monk dealing with his own demons.
River Spirits and
the Smoking Ritual
Shortly after 6 AM, we had left the newly cleaned sanctity of our
room at the temple, and surprisingly, not even the monks were up yet! As we
crossed the impressive Pakkading Bridge over the Nam Kading River—a key
tributary of the Mekong—something curious caught our attention—truck
drivers stopping briefly to light cigarettes before crossing. Not for a break. For
the river. It’s believed a serpent spirit lives below, and this small act is a
gesture of respect. One of those quiet, fascinating cultural details you’d
never find in a guidebook… but sticks with you long after. As the day wore on, the heat cranked up, and a stubborn headwind
challenged our resolve. Suddenly, every kilometre felt twice as long. We
stumbled upon a roadside guesthouse by 1 PM, complete with a restaurant—our
oasis in the baking sun. Sometimes that’s the real victory. The exhaustion
faded as we looked forward to a night’s rest, rejuvenating for the ride yet to
come.
Headwinds,
Heatwaves, and Midday Survival
Packing began at the crack of dawn, around 5:00 AM, setting the
stage for an early escape into the day. The road unfurled ahead, gently rolling
like a soft wave, making each pedal stroke a delight while the sun began to
stretch its rays across the landscape. A chorus of cheerful kids waved from the
roadside, their voices ringing out with enthusiastic calls of “Sabaidi falang!”
Some were unabashedly curious, their wide eyes following us, while others, a
bit more reserved, kept a cautious distance, giggling behind their hands.
Markets of the
Unexpected (and Slightly Questionable Snacks)
We pedalled past fascinating roadside shops, their tables laden
with refreshing water, delectable snacks, and the sweet allure of freshly
squeezed sugarcane juice. A particularly intriguing market caught our eye—an
eclectic mix of sights and smells. There, vendors proudly showcased dung beetle
balls, each one a tiny treasure trove of wriggling larvae, while grilled and
raw rats and squirrels tempted the adventurous palate.
The market was an exotic wonderland, bustling with the usual
crabs, eels, and an array of fish that promised culinary adventures. Nearby,
bags brimming with live lizards dangled from hooks, joining the ranks of other
peculiar (and perhaps illegal) creatures offered for sale. It was a world that
contrasted sharply with the tranquillity of the open road, inviting the curious
traveller to immerse themselves in the vibrant tapestry of local life. We
admired. We photographed. We did not order.
The
“Great Wall” of Laos (Sort Of)
Today
was a delightful bike ride that truly embraced the beauty of an early start,
allowing us to savour the cooler morning temperatures. Our path took us on an
unexpected and fascinating detour to the Great Wall of Laos, known as the
Kamphaeng Nyak Wall. This remarkable geological wonder, with its striking
resemblance to man-made structures, inspires an array of captivating myths and
stories throughout Laos. Some locals speculate that this wall served as a defence
system, while others believe it was constructed to control floodwaters. No one
seemed entirely sure. Which, honestly, only made it better. Such rich history
adds a magical layer to our travels!
As
we drew closer to Thakhek, we veered onto a scenic minor road that guided us
through charming small communities along the Mekong River. One of the
highlights was indulging in the famous Lao baguette, or Khao Jee. This street
food is a true culinary gem, filled with a delicious mix of salad, pâté, chilli
paste, and cold meats, all perfectly toasted over coals for that delightful
crispiness. Enjoying this treasure while seated on the sidewalk made the
experience even more enjoyable.
We reached Thakhek with plenty of time to settle in at the
Souksomboun Hotel, conveniently located by the Mekong’s banks. This
cyclist-friendly accommodation was a dream come true; we even had the luxury of
wheeling our bikes right into our outdoor-style rooms.
Thakhek: Baguettes,
Bikes, and a Proper Rest
The next day was dedicated to rest, and we took a fun tuk-tuk ride
to explore the nearby caves. Our leisurely morning was spent discovering the
wonders within these natural formations, and we made it back home by 2 PM,
feeling fulfilled and content.
A Sobering
Reminder: The Secret War
I’ve shared insights about the Secret War in Laos previously, and
it continues to resonate deeply with me. Witnessing individuals living with
visible scars from the conflict reminds us of the war's lasting impact. As
noted by Legaciesofwar.org, from 1964 to 1973, over two million tons of bombs
were dropped on Laos, making it the most heavily bombed country per capita. The
fact that a third of those bombs never detonated highlights the ongoing
challenges faced by the Laotian people. It’s a humbling reality—one that adds a deeper
layer to everything you see and experience here.
Pushing Beyond the
Plan: 100 km… Again
Our plan for the ride from Thakhek was to cover our usual distance
of 60-65 kilometres. However, the enchanting river trail along the Mekong
captivated us, leading us through picturesque fishing villages. Despite
reaching our initial target distance, our enthusiasm was undiminished. By
midday, I thought we’d made sufficient progress for the day; however, Janice
and Chris were determined to continue. Encouraged by their eagerness, we
pressed on a bit further until a sign pointed us toward an adventurous
shortcut. The route was a little rough and potholed, but it added excitement to
our day!
As we made our way to Savannakhet, we had to summon our energy to
arrive before nightfall. Everyone pushed through with exceptional
determination, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for our safe arrival.
Rolling into Savannakhet, legs tired but
spirits high, we aimed straight for the Night Market…Which was closed. Of
course. Plan B: dim sum. And honestly? No regrets.
Savannakhet: A
Well-Earned Finish
A well-deserved rest day was spent in Savannakhét, with its
tree-lined streets and an ensemble of old, crumbling French colonial buildings.
We intended to cross the border into Thailand via the Friendship Bridge on the
outskirts of Savannakhét. Still, I had to apply for a Thai visa first. Since it
was Sunday, I could only do it the next morning.
I handed in my application, but couldn't collect it until the next
day. The 12th was Chris’s birthday, and we visited the small museum with
interesting artefacts collected in the vicinity of Savannakhét. Afterwards, a relaxed
cycle ride ran to a nearby lake. The lake offered restaurants on wooden platforms
over the water. Eating cross-legged on woven mats—a position our bodies protested,
but my
guests never complained. Finally, we returned along the potholed road, making it
to our digs shortly before nightfall.
And just like that, Laos had worked its quiet magic
on us. It wasn’t flashy. It didn’t rush. But it challenged us, surprised us,
and welcomed us—sometimes with beer, sometimes with mystery meals, and
sometimes with a broom and a dirty bathroom.
Which, when you think about it…
…is exactly what makes an adventure worth telling.
CHAPTER 3THAILAND (15)1,111 Km – 21 Days
Thailand: Borders,
Buses, and a Slight Sprint
A midday check-out from our guesthouse left just enough time to
indulge in coffee and cake before picking up my visa at 14:00. Afterwards, I
hopped on my bike and set off to the consulate, while Janice and Chris made
their way to the border. As it turns out, cycling across the Friendship Bridge
wasn’t allowed, and the bus tickets that ferried people across were limited.
When two buses arrived without room for our bicycles, we were starting to feel
a bit worried, but fortune smiled upon us with the arrival of a third bus that
had space for two bikes!
As the bus pulled away, with Janice and Chris safely inside, I jumped
on my bicycle and raced across the bridge to the Thai border, much to the officials'
dismay. I simply smiled and waved, crossing to the other side without any
hassle, and I was soon reunited with my cycling buddies. Once checked in at
Thai immigration, we continued with a short, pleasant ride to Mukdahan. There, we
found a Buddhist temple that served as a perfect place to rest, surrounded by
delicious food options.
Rain, Roofs, and
“Luxury” Temple Living
After a refreshing night’s sleep, we were excited to set off along
a scenic route next to the Mekong River. While the terrain was a bit hilly, the
ride remained enjoyable as we journeyed towards Khemmarat. As was our habit, we
took advantage of the temples along the way for convenient camping, and at Wat
Pho the monks were incredibly welcoming, offering us a lovely room. To our
surprise, the room had air conditioning and piles of mats and pillows!
We settled comfortably into our cosy quarters, but then it started
to rain. I quickly understood why the mats were stacked in the corner—the roof
was leaking, and water was pouring in! In a flurry of activity, we scrambled to
protect our electronics and moved everything to the driest part of the room.
Thankfully, rain in Southeast Asia tends to pass just as quickly as it arrives,
and soon the storm subsided, leaving us safe and dry.
Strategic Bus Rides
and the Joy of Good Showers
As we had come to love our early risings, we woke up at 5:00 and
hit the road by 6:30, following a tranquil rural path dotted with charming
little hamlets. I was once again struck by the peacefulness of these
communities—cattle roamed backyards, kids pedalled to school on tiny bikes,
women sold snacks, and men tended to their goats and cattle.
The map hinted at a hilly day ahead, and it didn’t disappoint!
Upon reaching Ban Pakhachomson, we caught a bus to Ubon instead of continuing
on our bikes, eager to save energy for the next leg of our journey. Upon
arrival in Ubon, we enjoyed a quick six-kilometre cycle into the city centre,
where we finally found our perfect overnight spot at the Ubon Hotel,
conveniently located right across from the night market. Not only was the
location ideal, but the hotel also boasted a remarkably good water pressure
that almost propelled me out the door—such a refreshing way to end the day!
Routine, Rice
Fields, and Sleeping Under the Stars
By
now, we’d found our rhythm. Early starts. Quiet roads. Snack stops. Curious
locals watch us roll through their daily lives. It became comforting—this
simple cycling routine, where every day felt different but somehow familiar.
The
sun shone brightly, making our ride along the minor roads a delightful
experience. We pedalled through rural communities, soaking in the sights and
sounds of daily life. When we finally reached Si Sa Khet, we discovered that
sleeping at the city temple was not an option. However, we found solace at a
secluded temple about six kilometres out of town, where we pitched our tents
under the stars, surrounded by serenity.
Out
there, life slows down.
And
you realise… that’s kind of the point.
The Temple of a
Million Bottles (Because Why Not?)
The next morning greeted us with overcast skies, a pleasant
surprise that made our ride all the more enjoyable. The landscape transformed
into dry rice fields where scrawny cows grazed lazily, their long ears
twitching as we passed by. Columns of smoke rose from charcoal pits nearby,
adding to the rural charm as we pedalled south toward Khun Han.
Upon our arrival, our first destination was none other than the
incredible Wat Pa Maha Chedi Kaew, also known as The Temple of a Million
Bottles. Structures were crafted from over 1.5 million Heineken and Chang beer
bottles, a remarkable sight that left us in awe. Originally built in 1984, the
temple has since expanded to feature over 20 unique buildings, including
sleeping bungalows and ablutions. After soaking in the temple's unique beauty,
we set off in search of a camping spot by a nearby lake, but it turned out to
be unsuitable. Not to worry, we quickly made our way to the town temple, where
we were graciously allowed to set up our tents in a sheltered area.
120 km Days and
Cold Beer Rewards
The following day presented us with a challenge: a hefty 120-kilometre
ride into Surin. But as we rolled into town just before 6 p.m., the effort was
worth every sore backside. The collective mood was jubilant; we had conquered this
long distance together! After a refreshing shower, we dashed out to indulge in
our well-deserved reward—a couple of cold Chang beers paired with mouthwatering
dim sum from a bustling stall right outside our hotel.
What a perfect way to wrap up the day! The next morning promised
a well-earned rest day in Surin, allowing us time to recharge—both physically
and mentally—while catching up on some much-needed housekeeping. Ready for
whatever adventure lay ahead!
Volcanoes, Railway
Tracks, and Smart Shortcuts (Sort Of)
As we set off toward Buri Ram, the air was filled with the scent
of the countryside, and our chosen path unfolded along charming country lanes.
The rural landscape was alive with everyday life—cattle roamed freely, often
blocking our path as they leisurely lounged in front yards or beneath stilted
homes. We pedalled past verdant rice fields, where weathered old ladies toiled
under the sun while men gathered animal feed. Each small community we passed revolved
around a central well, the heartbeat of their daily lives.
However, our smooth ride took an unexpected turn when the road
abruptly met a railway line. Carrying our bikes over the tracks turned out to
be quite the challenge, but it only added to the day's tales.
The next stretch took us through Buri Ram,
where the landscape hid a surprise: An extinct volcano. Obviously, we climbed
it. Up 297 Naga steps, legs protesting all the way, only to be rewarded with
views that made it instantly worthwhile.
Strategic Climbing
(and Selective Packing)
On a heavily overcast morning, we rolled out of Buri Ram, enjoying
the gentle breeze that made cycling feel effortless. A last-minute decision led
us to Phanom Rung Historical Park, perched atop a steep hill. Eager to lighten
my load for the climb, I set down my panniers at a shop and shot ahead, leaving
Janice and Chris to battle their way up—all while carrying their burdensome
packs. Not impressed by my sneaky tactics, I could hear their unamused groans echo
behind me.
What a sight it was! We strolled among ruins that have stood for a
millennium, once a grand Hindu shrine to Shiva, constructed between the 10th
and 13th centuries. Perched on that extinct volcano, 400 meters above sea
level, the view was captivating, but the chilly breeze reminded me just how
unprepared I was. I narrowly escaped the embarrassment of asking to borrow a
sweater!
Once back on our original path, a delightful five-kilometre ride
brought us to Ban Khok Mueang. Here at Wat Prasat Buraparam, we set up camp on
a platform that could use a good cleaning. Janice and I seized the opportunity
to explore the ancient Prasat Muang Tam, revelling in the ruins all to
ourselves—no tourists, just the echo of centuries past. But hunger soon struck
us, leading us back to the town in search of sustenance. Fortunately, we stumbled
upon an open noodle soup restaurant, a perfect end to the day.
Temple Dogs, Jungle
Paths, and Cleaning Duty Again
Our early-morning packing sent the temple dogs into a frenzy of
barks, turning into howls as the monks rang the morning gong. What a cacophony
to wake up to!
With the day still fresh, we embarked on our ride, our spirits
high. Though we initially aimed to camp at Lam Nang Rong Dam, we arrived far too
early. We pushed on to Ta Phraya National Park instead. Once we crested the
mountain, the option to camp at the park beckoned—though we needed to travel a
further three kilometres in search of food.
To our delight, we found not
only a feast but also an unexpected camping spot at Wat Mai Thai Thavorn. Camping at temples
had become second nature—along with a few predictable extras:- Barking dogs
- Early morning gongs
- And occasionally… unexpected cleaning projects
This temple was no different, looking a bit neglected, but the
monks kindly directed us to a building at the far side of the property. It
certainly needed some TLC! After hours of sweeping and dusting, we transformed
the dusty hall into a usable space. The monks seemed impressed as they offered
us water, extension cords, and even toilet paper!
Just before sunset, we hopped back on our bikes for a quick ride
to the food market, where mouthwatering dishes awaited. The day was a perfect
blend of adventure, camaraderie, and delicious local cuisine—what more could we
ask for?
Broken Spokes and A Restday in Aranya Prathet
As dawn broke, the excitement of a new day beckoned us to rise
with the sun. By six o'clock, we were already spinning our wheels toward Aranya
Prathet, embraced by a gentle tailwind that made the ride feel effortless. The
overcast skies draped a cool shade over us, perfect for cycling.
Upon arrival, we planned a well-deserved rest day, especially
after one of our spokes decided to call it quits. We found ourselves at the
Aran Garden Hotel 1, a gem for cyclists. With the convenience of cycling
directly into a covered area, it felt like a welcoming hug for our weary bikes.
After sorting out laundry, we took a moment to catch up on a few
lingering tasks, then ventured out to explore the local culinary scene. The
evening streets buzzed with vendors and flavours, just what we needed.
Ancient Hindu Shrines and Sleeping in a Bus
Our tour kicked into high gear as we made our first stop at the
ruins of Prasat Khao Noi. This ancient Hindu shrine, perched atop the limestone
hill, whispered stories of the past. While only one prang stood tall, the remnants
of history captivated us. Among the excavated treasures was a stone lintel
inscribed in 637 AD—a tangible connection to a time long forgotten.
As we made our way through a vibrant Sunday market filled with
the aroma of local delicacies, we couldn't resist picking up unique seeds from
the surrounding trees. Each seed had its own personality—some were light and
fluffy, while others had a sticky or thorny exterior. One particularly
explosive seed even surprised us, bursting from its shell with a pop and
scattering its contents like confetti!
Our journey continued into Khao Chakan Forest Park, a spectacular
landscape of towering limestone mountains and deep caves. A steep flight of
stairs led us to a massive opening in the rock, rewarding our effort with
stunning views of the lush countryside below. This would have been an ideal
camping spot, were it not for the playful army of monkeys keeping a watchful
eye on us. In our exploration, we stumbled upon the Bus Resort, an
extraordinary place where buses were transformed into cosy, air-conditioned
accommodations, complete with fridges and bathrooms—definitely a quirky twist to
the day.
Through an Elephant Sanctuary to a Sunset Paddle.
Once again, the open road called, promising another thrilling
day of cycling. The winding paths meandered over the hills and through the Khao
Ang Rue Nai Wildlife Sanctuary, where the fresh scent of elephant dung reminded
us of the majestic creatures that roam these lands. Though we didn’t spot any
elephants, mischievous monkeys entertained us with their antics.
After conquering the mountains, a thrilling descent led to the
quaint village of Khlong Takao. Our plan was to camp by the dam, but a flooded
road added an unexpected twist to our day and extended our ride longer than
anticipated.
Despite the setback, Sronlai Homestay offered picturesque
camping. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, we couldn’t resist the kayaks
and paddled out for a serene evening. The gentle lapping of the water and the
soft glow of the setting sun brought an enchanting end to another day on the
road.
Breath-taking Views and Weaving Market
What a ride! The journey to Phanat Nikhom was absolutely
exhilarating, with country roads winding through lush rubber tree plantations
and farmers diligently preparing their paddy fields.
At a temple, a challenging hike that involved conquering a
near-vertical flight of stairs led to a breathtaking viewpoint. There, amid the
serene landscape, stood a dimly lit sanctuary, housing a collection of dusty
Buddha statues that felt like secrets waiting to be discovered.
As we cycled into Phanat Nikhom, we spotted a sign directing us
to a weaving market and factory. Intrigued, we spent time marvelling at their
incredible craftsmanship, including the world’s largest hand-woven basket—a
true testament to local artisanship. Afterwards, we ventured off to find
accommodation at a nearby temple on the town’s outskirts. The temple vibrated
with life, and we were greeted by an overwhelming presence of temple dogs
darting around joyfully. We also encountered a few salesmen offering brooms and
feather dusters, who appeared to be well-prepared for an overnight stay with
their sleeping mats, fans, and cooking gear set up around the temple grounds.
Monkeys, Markets,
and Surprise Navigation Help
Throughout the night, the temple buzzed with noise, partly from
the dogs barking furiously at every little sound and partly from the incessant
traffic on the nearby busy highway. Despite the chaos, we found ourselves
laughing at the madness around us. By morning, we bravely saddled up, waved
goodbye to the friendly feather duster salesmen and the monks, and set off with
a couple of curious temple dogs in tow.
It wasn’t long before we stumbled upon a peaceful rural road
that brought a sigh of relief. We pointed our bikes towards Chachoengsao, only
to encounter unexpected roadworks. Thankfully, a kind farmer came to our rescue
and led us along a hidden path not shown on our map.
Once in Chachoengsao, we navigated through the bustling city to
reach the charming old market by the Bang Pakong River, believed to be over a
century old. Although it was midweek and the market was closed, we roamed the
area, admiring the beautiful wooden structures. In true Thai fashion, the shop
owners, who lived above their shops, welcomed us with broad smiles and
invitations to taste their delicious specialities. After enjoying a lovely
coffee at a riverside café, we set off to find our next place to stay.
The Final Approach:
Trains, Tyres, and One Last Mix-Up
We decided to hop on a train to Bangkok, skipping the chaotic
traffic. With a variety of trains to choose from, we had all the time in the
world to leisurely cycle to the station. However, I woke to a flat tyre. Janice
and Chris zoomed ahead while I tackled the puncture. When I finally arrived at
the station, they were nowhere to be found. It turned out they had accidentally
cycled to the bus station a kilometre away! After a bit of back-and-forth, we
reunited and boarded the train headed for the city.
Bangkok: Full
Circle
Back in Bangkok, everything felt bigger,
louder, faster. Bike repairs were overdue (very overdue), and the racks, held
together by cable ties, were finally retired. Janice and Chris began packing up
their bikes for the journey home.
But we weren’t done yet.
Not quite.
Thankfully, we still had a few days to explore more of Bangkok
and its surroundings. That evening, we enjoyed a delightful reunion with Tania
and Rodd, a friendly chap from New Zealand who instantly added warmth and laughter
to our conversation.
Bangkok Adventures One Last Adventure (Of Course)
The night before, we teamed up with Rodd to explore the famous
Samut Songkhram Railway Market and Amphawa Floating Market. We woke excited and
jumped into a taxi to Wonwian Yai Station. There, we encountered the train
parked in the middle of the road, making our ride feel like a game of Frogger.
For just 10 THB, we hopped on a train to Maha Chai Station, then
took a charming 3 THB ferry across the river, and after a brisk sprint to Ban
Laem Station, we boarded another train, convinced that 10 THB was our lucky
number.
Arriving at the Railway Market, we were met with a chaotic
symphony of vendors quickly clearing their stalls as a train approached. We
enjoyed bowls of delicious noodle soup before cramming into a Songthaew, which
felt a bit cramped.
At Amphawa Floating Market, the heat was intense, so we opted
for a 50 THB canal tour that felt more like a floating sauna. After over two
hours on the water, we returned to land, exhausted but happy, feeling as if we
had just survived an adventure of a lifetime. What a day!
The Final Evenings:
Markets, Memories, and a Surprise Gift
Back in Bangkok, we drifted through markets, drank
cold beers on small plastic chairs, and watched the world go by one last time.
That’s when Janice surprised me with a gift—a
camera backpack.
Completely unexpected.
Completely unnecessary.
And completely appreciated.
It’s funny how the smallest moments end up meaning
the most. The End
And then… just like that…It was over.
Janice and Chris jumped into a taxi bound for the
airport, heading back to Cape Town after 2,422 kilometres of cycling, countless
meals, endless heat, and more memories than we could possibly count.
As they disappeared into Bangkok traffic, there was
that familiar mix of emotions:
Pride. Gratitude. And just a little bit of “what
now?”
Because after a journey like this…You don’t really
finish it. You just start riding again
Every
journey begins with a plan.
After returning from Malaysia, I spent a few
days in Jomtien doing what all sensible cycle tourers do before a big cycling
trip: nervously checking my gear for the tenth time and wondering whether I’d
forgotten something crucial… like common sense.
Janice and Chris were about to join me for a
two-month cycling odyssey across Southeast Asia. They loved camping, which
meant my tent and gear had to be in top form—no leaks, no excuses.
I was excited to meet them… but also slightly
anxious. Had I planned the right route? Would they love it? Would they secretly
wish they’d booked a beach holiday instead?
Of course, this is Southeast Asia—plans are
more of a gentle suggestion than a rule. Out here, the road decides.
And that’s exactly the fun of it.
CHAPTER 1
THAILAND (14.1) - Tuk‑Tuks,
Temples, Sugarcane, and One Very Determined Monkey Mafia
825 Km – 19 Days
Bangkok
didn’t ease us in gently. It didn’t even pretend to. It simply grabbed us by
the shoulders, shouted “WELCOME!”, and shoved us straight into the deep end.
When
Janice and Chris finally emerged from their heroic 24‑hour journey from Cape
Town—creased, dazed, and blinking like newborn owls—we did what any responsible
adults would do: we marched directly to Khao San Road, the spiritual home of
questionable decisions.
Jet
lag? Ignored. Hydration? Beer counts. Obviously.
Within
minutes, Chris and I were clutching ice‑cold drinks and sampling Bangkok’s more
“character‑building” delicacies: crickets, frogs, silkworms, grasshoppers…
basically the entire cast of A Bug’s Life, lightly seasoned with soy sauce and
a sprinkle of regret. Janice wisely supervised from a safe distance,
documenting our poor choices for future blackmail.
Chris,
however, embraced Banglampu like a man auditioning for the Street Food
Olympics. He raided passing carts with the enthusiasm of someone who had never
met a digestive system.
It
became clear very quickly: this trip was not going to be boring.
A
“Sunset Cruise”… Sort Of
Our
first morning together began with bicycle reassembly and mild panic. The
guesthouse was closing, the bike boxes needed a home, and suddenly our relaxing
start morphed into a logistical escape room.
Once
we’d secured alternative accommodation (and our sanity), I treated the group to
my budget version of a “sunset cruise”: the public ferry. We rode it all the
way to the end of the line, then back again, letting the Chao Phraya breeze
wash over us like a discount spa treatment.
Dusk
painted the sky in colours that made us forget the chaos, the heat, and the
fact that we’d eaten insects voluntarily. We ended the evening with street food
and cold beer, congratulating ourselves on surviving Day One.
Bangkok
at Dawn: The Peace Behind the Madness
At 6
a.m., Bangkok transforms from a neon fever dream into something almost holy.
Barefoot monks glided through the streets collecting alms, the Royal Palace
glowed in the early light, and for a brief moment, we felt like we had the city
entirely to ourselves.
It
was magical. It was serene. It was also the last peaceful moment we’d have
before attempting to cycle in Bangkok traffic.
Test
Ride: Survival Mode Activated
Cycling
in Bangkok is like joining a live‑action video game where the tuk‑tuks are the
bosses and you have no extra lives.
We
dodged scooters, taxis, food carts, and at least one confused chicken. After
ten minutes, we collectively decided that perhaps Bangkok was best explored by
ferry and on foot. A wise and possibly life‑saving conclusion.
The
ferry whisked us to Chinatown, and later we marvelled at the newly renovated
Temple of Dawn—proof that Bangkok contains both chaos and breathtaking beauty
in equal measure.
The Journey Begins: Escape from Bangkok
Our official “start” involved… a taxi. Because sometimes the greatest adventure is knowing when not to cycle.
Taxi4Bikes arrived with roof racks, wheel covers, and the kind of calm efficiency that made us suspicious. Were we still in Thailand?
Thirty kilometres later, we rolled out from Rangsit Station, waved goodbye to Bangkok, and pointed our wheels toward Ayutthaya.
Almost instantly, everything changed.
The city dissolved behind us, replaced by quiet canals, banana plantations, rice paddies, and locals cooking meals that smelled far too good for people who had eaten insects the day before.
Ayutthaya: Ruins, Rewards, and a Well‑Earned Beer
We settled into a charming wooden schoolhouse and immediately hunted down food. A pavement restaurant delivered a feast and an ice‑cold beer that tasted like victory.
The next morning, we explored Ayutthaya’s ancient ruins—once the capital of Siam, once the largest city in the world, now a hauntingly beautiful UNESCO site. History, tragedy, grandeur… and us, sweating profusely among the temples.
Heat, Elephants, and Unexpected Detours
We set off at 7 a.m., chasing the illusion of “cool morning air.” It lasted approximately 14 minutes.
An elephant kraal stirred complicated emotions—majestic creatures, ancient traditions, and the uncomfortable reality of chains.
As the heat intensified, we veered onto a dirt track lined with sun‑dried fish and enormous Buddha statues, because why not? Eventually, we reached Lopburi just in time for Chinese New Year celebrations—music, fireworks, traditional dress, and enough colour to make a peacock feel underdressed.
Lopburi: Monkeys Take Over (And Honestly, They Win)
The forecast said 38°C. We said: “Absolutely not.”
Instead, we explored Lopburi, a city where ancient ruins coexist with a monkey population that behaves like a furry mafia. They steal snacks, inspect bags, and run the town with unapologetic confidence.
At the Monkey Temple, I lost track of time watching their antics—chaotic, charming, and slightly terrifying. Leave anything unattended and it was theirs.
Toward the Dam: Heat 1, Cyclists 0
We set off early, but the heat still found us. An organic market offered exotic foods and herbal remedies, but mostly we just wanted water.
By evening, we reached Pasak Jolasit Dam and camped under shady trees. Ordering dinner without speaking Thai was a gamble, but the flavours were spectacular.
Sunrise, Sugarcane, and Suspicious Rustling
Morning at the dam was bliss—coffee, oats, and a sun fighting through haze from nearby sugarcane farms.
We cycled past cassava plantations and a giant White Buddha where we observed circumambulation rituals. Then came sugarcane workers, rustling fields, and my imagination inventing snakes, rats, and possibly dragons.
At the Wangkanlueang waterfall, we found a picnic spot where we enjoyed juicy watermelon while our feet dabbled in the cool stream.
Janice’s flat tyre took longer than expected, but eventually we reached Wat Nong Bong, where monks offered mats, and Janice took on the morning storytelling duties. Chris cooked noodles; monks chanted; stars twinkled. It was perfect.
Temple Life: Hospitality, Noodles, and Starry Skies
We started our morning with a breakfast of fried noodles courtesy of the monks—simple yet delicious! Janice took a moment to engage the local school kids about our planned ride for the day, sparking curiosity and excitement in their eyes. Inspired by their enthusiasm, we tackled a little bike maintenance, figuring out how to adjust the disc brakes on Janice’s bicycle. Although we were beginners in bike mechanics, a quick YouTube search helped us get the wheel moving smoothly again, and soon enough, we were back on the road!
We rode through sugarcane country, paused at Si Chep Historical Park, and waited out the heat like lizards on a rock.
By late afternoon, Chris revived, and we pushed on to another temple. The monks welcomed us warmly; the temple dogs… less so.
Chris needed ice for his diabetic medication, so our evening revolved around Operation Ice Cube.
Dust, Mud, and Monks on the Move
We left at 5 a.m. under a smoky haze, navigating muddy tracks, two‑wheeled tractors, and monks collecting food.
The temple that night was basic—dusty shelter, dirt yard—but we swept, dusted the Buddha, lit incense, and made it home.
Climbs, Villages, and Culinary “Experiments”
The first 15 km were uphill. Relentlessly uphill. The kind of uphill that makes you question your life choices. After about 10 kilometres, a smaller path veered off, steering us away from a higher peak. Despite the challenge, the ride remained breathtaking as we meandered through stunning rural lanes. As our path descended into charming little villages, the locals observed us with wonder.
We rode through a typical Thai rural area, where families relaxed in hammocks under their stilted wooden homes while children played freely, and livestock grazed unbothered. Our muddy trail eventually led us to a paved road that showcased fascinating distant scenery, with majestic mountains rising to our right.
By around 3 PM, we arrived at the small village of Ban Non-Sa-at. Here, the local temple offered us another camping spot. Like the previous night, it required a bit of sweeping in the half-covered hall and a gentle dusting of the Buddha to prepare our sleeping quarters.
Dinner was a mix of noodle soup, sardines, and Chris’s sardine‑noodle fusion cuisine. Not gourmet, but edible.
Raincoats, Fruit Feasts, and Remote Adventures
We overslept, woke to torrential rain, and packed slowly under the downpour. Plastic raincoats: engaged.
A roadside cart gifted us watermelon; a shop owner gifted us bananas; we created a fruit salad that tasted like salvation.
Ban Huabua felt like a village that had never hosted foreigners. The temple was silent, the monk helpful, the sleeping quarters… rustic. Dinner: cup noodles. Again.
Speed, Sunrises, and Mystery Meat
A chilly morning revived us. Chris sped ahead like a man possessed; Janice and I admired lotus ponds, cows, smoky stalls, and butchers selling mystery cuts.
With regular rest stops for hydration, we sped through the kilometres. Lunchtime brought a brief nap for Chris, recharging his energy for the ride to Ban Thaen. A sip of refreshing coconut juice along the way invigorated us further. Upon reaching the temple in Ban Thaen, we sought permission to camp from a monk sweeping the grounds. His half-hearted gesture left us unsure about our fate.
A quick exploration led us to a local store, where I grabbed a bowl of soup, only to discover it contained some bony, but surprisingly tasty, mystery meat. In Thailand, flavours never disappoint: "Aroi mak-mak!" as they say.
Khon Kaen: Civilisation (and Air Conditioning!)
We slept under the stars, mosquito coils burning, temple dogs behaving. Morning gongs and howling dogs woke us with enthusiasm.
The ride to Khon Kaen was beautiful—villages, buffalo, Sunday chores, charcoal making. A 7‑Eleven saved us from melting.
A bike shop fixed my wheel wobble for 20 baht (daylight robbery in reverse). We checked into a hotel and revelled in air‑conditioning like royalty.
Our rest day in Khon Kaen was a mix of light chores and exploration. Laundry piled up, and we set off to shop for headlamps, then returned to the bike shop for headset extensions for Janice and Chris. As evening fell, Chris surprised us with Cape Velvet Liqueur, a delightful end to a productive day.
Final Stretch: To the Mekong
We set off before sunrise, full of energy and questionable optimism. Main roads lacked charm but offered facilities—and bamboo crafts that tempted us at every turn.
From Ban Pa Kho Temple to Wat Pho Chum Pattanaram, we drew curious stares. Foreign cyclists were clearly a novelty.
The next day brought rolling hills, wildflowers, children’s laughter, and the kind of scenery that makes you forget your legs are screaming.
Reaching Nong Khai, we gravitated to the Mekong River. Our last Thai sunset was pure magic—golden light shimmering across the water, a perfect farewell before crossing into Laos.
What a day. What a country. What a ride.
CHAPTER 2123 LAOS (7) A
Bicycle Adventure Across the Mekong486 Km – 11 Days
Crossing into Laos: A Small Problem with a Big Bridge
We rolled out of Nong Khai full of excitement—new country, new roads, new adventures. Ten kilometres later… we were already in trouble. The Friendship Bridge stretched ahead of us like a grand gateway into Laos, and cycling across the Mekong felt like one of those “this is what travel is all about” moments. Right up until immigration. That’s when the officials calmly pointed out a tiny oversight:
No exit stamps.
In other words, we hadn’t technically left Thailand. Cue a very quick U-turn. We pedalled back across the bridge, slightly less triumphant than before, hastily filled in the forms, and returned once again—this time officially exported.
Second attempt? Success. Laos, we were finally in!
Once in laidback Vientiane, we had the perfect opportunity to stretch our legs and explore the city. The search for new SIM cards, an ATM, and food was an adventure in itself! Dinner awaited us at one of the many restaurants lining the riverfront. Even at 9 p.m., the heat was relentless, wrapping around us like a warm blanket. The weather forecast for the next few days wasn’t looking favourable for biking, with temperatures expected to soar to 36˚C-38˚C. Yet, watching Janice and Chris battle the heat like seasoned pros gave me confidence. As long as we kept our days manageable, I thought we’d be just fine.
Embracing the Heat - Monuments, Mysteries, and a “Vertical Runway”
We started early the next morning—because in Laos, your window of comfort is roughly sunrise to “why are we doing this again?”
Our first stop was the iconic Patuxay Monument, Vientiane’s very own Arc de Triomphe. The backstory fascinated me: this monument was constructed with cement donated by the USA, initially intended for a new airport. Now, it’s humorously dubbed the “vertical runway.” The history alone brought the structure to life.
Next on our journey was Pha That Luang, a stunning 16th-century Buddhist stupa steeped in history. Built atop the remains of previous temples, it served as a reminder of the region's rich cultural heritage. We stood in awe, gazing at the reclining Buddha sculpted to represent the historical Buddha at the moment of his parinirvana—truly a sight to behold.
We had plans to visit Buddha Park next, but the road conditions were so rough that biking became a chore, and we had to make the tough call to skip it in favour of the main road. Chris, however, was a trooper and managed to pedal his way to our destination without stopping for lunch or a nap—what a champ!
Unexpected Generosity (and Very Careful Beer Management)
We finally stopped at a roadside guesthouse, where a humble restaurant served up delightful noodle soup. A group of locals sat nearby, smiling, chatting… and then suddenly started buying us beers.
One turned into two… which could very quickly have turned into “we’re not cycling anywhere tomorrow.” So we thanked them enthusiastically, laughed a lot, and quietly activated what I call strategic restraint.
And so, our adventure continued, full of unexpected twists and stories waiting to be told. Each moment a colourful brushstroke in our travel tale, painting an unforgettable picture of life on the road.
The Case of the Missing Glasses (and the 100 km Surprise)
We set off early again, chasing cooler air and long shadows. About 15 kilometres in—perfect rhythm, good pace—Janice suddenly realised something crucial: Her reading glasses were gone. Backtracking began. Chris and I continued slowly ahead, assuming she’d catch up soon. She didn’t. After a while, the message came through:
She’d missed the regroup point entirely… and ended up all the way back at the start. At this point, there was nothing to do but stick to the plan—ride until 1 p.m., check in, and wait. Eventually, Janice rolled in, having conquered a whopping 100 kilometres on her own! Talk about determination! Major kudos to you, Janice, for your first solo ride and hitting the century mark—you absolutely crushed it!
Temple Hospitality: Cleaning Before Check-In
The next morning greeted us with an unexpected chill, prompting me to make a quick stop for a long-sleeved sweater. It’s always a bit of a gamble with the clothing racks outside restaurants—are they for sale or just laundry? After our leisurely half-day rides, we often arrived at our destinations too early, needing to ask if we could camp before the sun fully warmed the day.
Upon reaching the Pakkading Buddhist temple, the friendly monks showed us a clean room, but not before we rolled up our sleeves for a little scrubbing! The building looked fresh, but the bathroom? Not so much. Just as we settled in, the head monk arrived with a surprise: we were to move to the basement! Stepping into the substantial tiled room, we noticed it desperately needed some TLC. It felt like a place intended for those down on their luck or perhaps a monk dealing with his own demons.
River Spirits and the Smoking Ritual
Shortly after 6 AM, we had left the newly cleaned sanctity of our room at the temple, and surprisingly, not even the monks were up yet! As we crossed the impressive Pakkading Bridge over the Nam Kading River—a key tributary of the Mekong—something curious caught our attention—truck drivers stopping briefly to light cigarettes before crossing. Not for a break. For the river. It’s believed a serpent spirit lives below, and this small act is a gesture of respect. One of those quiet, fascinating cultural details you’d never find in a guidebook… but sticks with you long after.
As the day wore on, the heat cranked up, and a stubborn headwind challenged our resolve. Suddenly, every kilometre felt twice as long. We stumbled upon a roadside guesthouse by 1 PM, complete with a restaurant—our oasis in the baking sun. Sometimes that’s the real victory. The exhaustion faded as we looked forward to a night’s rest, rejuvenating for the ride yet to come.
Headwinds,
Heatwaves, and Midday Survival
Packing began at the crack of dawn, around 5:00 AM, setting the
stage for an early escape into the day. The road unfurled ahead, gently rolling
like a soft wave, making each pedal stroke a delight while the sun began to
stretch its rays across the landscape. A chorus of cheerful kids waved from the
roadside, their voices ringing out with enthusiastic calls of “Sabaidi falang!”
Some were unabashedly curious, their wide eyes following us, while others, a
bit more reserved, kept a cautious distance, giggling behind their hands.
Markets of the
Unexpected (and Slightly Questionable Snacks)
We pedalled past fascinating roadside shops, their tables laden
with refreshing water, delectable snacks, and the sweet allure of freshly
squeezed sugarcane juice. A particularly intriguing market caught our eye—an
eclectic mix of sights and smells. There, vendors proudly showcased dung beetle
balls, each one a tiny treasure trove of wriggling larvae, while grilled and
raw rats and squirrels tempted the adventurous palate.
The market was an exotic wonderland, bustling with the usual
crabs, eels, and an array of fish that promised culinary adventures. Nearby,
bags brimming with live lizards dangled from hooks, joining the ranks of other
peculiar (and perhaps illegal) creatures offered for sale. It was a world that
contrasted sharply with the tranquillity of the open road, inviting the curious
traveller to immerse themselves in the vibrant tapestry of local life. We
admired. We photographed. We did not order.
The
“Great Wall” of Laos (Sort Of)
Today
was a delightful bike ride that truly embraced the beauty of an early start,
allowing us to savour the cooler morning temperatures. Our path took us on an
unexpected and fascinating detour to the Great Wall of Laos, known as the
Kamphaeng Nyak Wall. This remarkable geological wonder, with its striking
resemblance to man-made structures, inspires an array of captivating myths and
stories throughout Laos. Some locals speculate that this wall served as a defence
system, while others believe it was constructed to control floodwaters. No one
seemed entirely sure. Which, honestly, only made it better. Such rich history
adds a magical layer to our travels!
As
we drew closer to Thakhek, we veered onto a scenic minor road that guided us
through charming small communities along the Mekong River. One of the
highlights was indulging in the famous Lao baguette, or Khao Jee. This street
food is a true culinary gem, filled with a delicious mix of salad, pâté, chilli
paste, and cold meats, all perfectly toasted over coals for that delightful
crispiness. Enjoying this treasure while seated on the sidewalk made the
experience even more enjoyable.
We reached Thakhek with plenty of time to settle in at the
Souksomboun Hotel, conveniently located by the Mekong’s banks. This
cyclist-friendly accommodation was a dream come true; we even had the luxury of
wheeling our bikes right into our outdoor-style rooms.
Thakhek: Baguettes,
Bikes, and a Proper Rest
The next day was dedicated to rest, and we took a fun tuk-tuk ride
to explore the nearby caves. Our leisurely morning was spent discovering the
wonders within these natural formations, and we made it back home by 2 PM,
feeling fulfilled and content.
A Sobering Reminder: The Secret War
I’ve shared insights about the Secret War in Laos previously, and it continues to resonate deeply with me. Witnessing individuals living with visible scars from the conflict reminds us of the war's lasting impact. As noted by Legaciesofwar.org, from 1964 to 1973, over two million tons of bombs were dropped on Laos, making it the most heavily bombed country per capita. The fact that a third of those bombs never detonated highlights the ongoing challenges faced by the Laotian people. It’s a humbling reality—one that adds a deeper layer to everything you see and experience here.Pushing Beyond the Plan: 100 km… Again
Our plan for the ride from Thakhek was to cover our usual distance of 60-65 kilometres. However, the enchanting river trail along the Mekong captivated us, leading us through picturesque fishing villages. Despite reaching our initial target distance, our enthusiasm was undiminished. By midday, I thought we’d made sufficient progress for the day; however, Janice and Chris were determined to continue. Encouraged by their eagerness, we pressed on a bit further until a sign pointed us toward an adventurous shortcut. The route was a little rough and potholed, but it added excitement to our day!
As we made our way to Savannakhet, we had to summon our energy to arrive before nightfall. Everyone pushed through with exceptional determination, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for our safe arrival.
Rolling into Savannakhet, legs tired but spirits high, we aimed straight for the Night Market…Which was closed. Of course. Plan B: dim sum. And honestly? No regrets.
Savannakhet: A Well-Earned Finish
A well-deserved rest day was spent in Savannakhét, with its tree-lined streets and an ensemble of old, crumbling French colonial buildings. We intended to cross the border into Thailand via the Friendship Bridge on the outskirts of Savannakhét. Still, I had to apply for a Thai visa first. Since it was Sunday, I could only do it the next morning.
I handed in my application, but couldn't collect it until the next day. The 12th was Chris’s birthday, and we visited the small museum with interesting artefacts collected in the vicinity of Savannakhét. Afterwards, a relaxed cycle ride ran to a nearby lake. The lake offered restaurants on wooden platforms over the water. Eating cross-legged on woven mats—a position our bodies protested, but my guests never complained. Finally, we returned along the potholed road, making it to our digs shortly before nightfall.
And just like that, Laos had worked its quiet magic
on us. It wasn’t flashy. It didn’t rush. But it challenged us, surprised us,
and welcomed us—sometimes with beer, sometimes with mystery meals, and
sometimes with a broom and a dirty bathroom.
Which, when you think about it…
…is exactly what makes an adventure worth telling.
CHAPTER 3THAILAND (15)1,111 Km – 21 Days
Thailand: Borders, Buses, and a Slight Sprint
A midday check-out from our guesthouse left just enough time to indulge in coffee and cake before picking up my visa at 14:00. Afterwards, I hopped on my bike and set off to the consulate, while Janice and Chris made their way to the border. As it turns out, cycling across the Friendship Bridge wasn’t allowed, and the bus tickets that ferried people across were limited. When two buses arrived without room for our bicycles, we were starting to feel a bit worried, but fortune smiled upon us with the arrival of a third bus that had space for two bikes!
As the bus pulled away, with Janice and Chris safely inside, I jumped on my bicycle and raced across the bridge to the Thai border, much to the officials' dismay. I simply smiled and waved, crossing to the other side without any hassle, and I was soon reunited with my cycling buddies. Once checked in at Thai immigration, we continued with a short, pleasant ride to Mukdahan. There, we found a Buddhist temple that served as a perfect place to rest, surrounded by delicious food options.
Rain, Roofs, and “Luxury” Temple Living
After a refreshing night’s sleep, we were excited to set off along a scenic route next to the Mekong River. While the terrain was a bit hilly, the ride remained enjoyable as we journeyed towards Khemmarat. As was our habit, we took advantage of the temples along the way for convenient camping, and at Wat Pho the monks were incredibly welcoming, offering us a lovely room. To our surprise, the room had air conditioning and piles of mats and pillows!
We settled comfortably into our cosy quarters, but then it started to rain. I quickly understood why the mats were stacked in the corner—the roof was leaking, and water was pouring in! In a flurry of activity, we scrambled to protect our electronics and moved everything to the driest part of the room. Thankfully, rain in Southeast Asia tends to pass just as quickly as it arrives, and soon the storm subsided, leaving us safe and dry.
Strategic Bus Rides
and the Joy of Good Showers
As we had come to love our early risings, we woke up at 5:00 and
hit the road by 6:30, following a tranquil rural path dotted with charming
little hamlets. I was once again struck by the peacefulness of these
communities—cattle roamed backyards, kids pedalled to school on tiny bikes,
women sold snacks, and men tended to their goats and cattle.
The map hinted at a hilly day ahead, and it didn’t disappoint!
Upon reaching Ban Pakhachomson, we caught a bus to Ubon instead of continuing
on our bikes, eager to save energy for the next leg of our journey. Upon
arrival in Ubon, we enjoyed a quick six-kilometre cycle into the city centre,
where we finally found our perfect overnight spot at the Ubon Hotel,
conveniently located right across from the night market. Not only was the
location ideal, but the hotel also boasted a remarkably good water pressure
that almost propelled me out the door—such a refreshing way to end the day!
Routine, Rice Fields, and Sleeping Under the Stars
By now, we’d found our rhythm. Early starts. Quiet roads. Snack stops. Curious locals watch us roll through their daily lives. It became comforting—this simple cycling routine, where every day felt different but somehow familiar.
The sun shone brightly, making our ride along the minor roads a delightful experience. We pedalled through rural communities, soaking in the sights and sounds of daily life. When we finally reached Si Sa Khet, we discovered that sleeping at the city temple was not an option. However, we found solace at a secluded temple about six kilometres out of town, where we pitched our tents under the stars, surrounded by serenity.
Out there, life slows down.
And you realise… that’s kind of the point.
The Temple of a Million Bottles (Because Why Not?)
The next morning greeted us with overcast skies, a pleasant surprise that made our ride all the more enjoyable. The landscape transformed into dry rice fields where scrawny cows grazed lazily, their long ears twitching as we passed by. Columns of smoke rose from charcoal pits nearby, adding to the rural charm as we pedalled south toward Khun Han.
Upon our arrival, our first destination was none other than the incredible Wat Pa Maha Chedi Kaew, also known as The Temple of a Million Bottles. Structures were crafted from over 1.5 million Heineken and Chang beer bottles, a remarkable sight that left us in awe. Originally built in 1984, the temple has since expanded to feature over 20 unique buildings, including sleeping bungalows and ablutions. After soaking in the temple's unique beauty, we set off in search of a camping spot by a nearby lake, but it turned out to be unsuitable. Not to worry, we quickly made our way to the town temple, where we were graciously allowed to set up our tents in a sheltered area.
120 km Days and Cold Beer Rewards
The following day presented us with a challenge: a hefty 120-kilometre ride into Surin. But as we rolled into town just before 6 p.m., the effort was worth every sore backside. The collective mood was jubilant; we had conquered this long distance together! After a refreshing shower, we dashed out to indulge in our well-deserved reward—a couple of cold Chang beers paired with mouthwatering dim sum from a bustling stall right outside our hotel.
What a perfect way to wrap up the day! The next morning promised a well-earned rest day in Surin, allowing us time to recharge—both physically and mentally—while catching up on some much-needed housekeeping. Ready for whatever adventure lay ahead!
Volcanoes, Railway Tracks, and Smart Shortcuts (Sort Of)
As we set off toward Buri Ram, the air was filled with the scent of the countryside, and our chosen path unfolded along charming country lanes. The rural landscape was alive with everyday life—cattle roamed freely, often blocking our path as they leisurely lounged in front yards or beneath stilted homes. We pedalled past verdant rice fields, where weathered old ladies toiled under the sun while men gathered animal feed. Each small community we passed revolved around a central well, the heartbeat of their daily lives.
However, our smooth ride took an unexpected turn when the road abruptly met a railway line. Carrying our bikes over the tracks turned out to be quite the challenge, but it only added to the day's tales.
The next stretch took us through Buri Ram, where the landscape hid a surprise: An extinct volcano. Obviously, we climbed it. Up 297 Naga steps, legs protesting all the way, only to be rewarded with views that made it instantly worthwhile.
Strategic Climbing (and Selective Packing)
On a heavily overcast morning, we rolled out of Buri Ram, enjoying the gentle breeze that made cycling feel effortless. A last-minute decision led us to Phanom Rung Historical Park, perched atop a steep hill. Eager to lighten my load for the climb, I set down my panniers at a shop and shot ahead, leaving Janice and Chris to battle their way up—all while carrying their burdensome packs. Not impressed by my sneaky tactics, I could hear their unamused groans echo behind me.
What a sight it was! We strolled among ruins that have stood for a millennium, once a grand Hindu shrine to Shiva, constructed between the 10th and 13th centuries. Perched on that extinct volcano, 400 meters above sea level, the view was captivating, but the chilly breeze reminded me just how unprepared I was. I narrowly escaped the embarrassment of asking to borrow a sweater!
Once back on our original path, a delightful five-kilometre ride brought us to Ban Khok Mueang. Here at Wat Prasat Buraparam, we set up camp on a platform that could use a good cleaning. Janice and I seized the opportunity to explore the ancient Prasat Muang Tam, revelling in the ruins all to ourselves—no tourists, just the echo of centuries past. But hunger soon struck us, leading us back to the town in search of sustenance. Fortunately, we stumbled upon an open noodle soup restaurant, a perfect end to the day.
Temple Dogs, Jungle Paths, and Cleaning Duty Again
Our early-morning packing sent the temple dogs into a frenzy of barks, turning into howls as the monks rang the morning gong. What a cacophony to wake up to!
With the day still fresh, we embarked on our ride, our spirits high. Though we initially aimed to camp at Lam Nang Rong Dam, we arrived far too early. We pushed on to Ta Phraya National Park instead. Once we crested the mountain, the option to camp at the park beckoned—though we needed to travel a further three kilometres in search of food.
To our delight, we found not only a feast but also an unexpected camping spot at Wat Mai Thai Thavorn. Camping at temples had become second nature—along with a few predictable extras:
- Barking dogs
- Early morning gongs
- And occasionally… unexpected cleaning projects
Just before sunset, we hopped back on our bikes for a quick ride to the food market, where mouthwatering dishes awaited. The day was a perfect blend of adventure, camaraderie, and delicious local cuisine—what more could we ask for?
Broken Spokes and A Restday in Aranya Prathet
As dawn broke, the excitement of a new day beckoned us to rise with the sun. By six o'clock, we were already spinning our wheels toward Aranya Prathet, embraced by a gentle tailwind that made the ride feel effortless. The overcast skies draped a cool shade over us, perfect for cycling.
Upon arrival, we planned a well-deserved rest day, especially after one of our spokes decided to call it quits. We found ourselves at the Aran Garden Hotel 1, a gem for cyclists. With the convenience of cycling directly into a covered area, it felt like a welcoming hug for our weary bikes.
After sorting out laundry, we took a moment to catch up on a few lingering tasks, then ventured out to explore the local culinary scene. The evening streets buzzed with vendors and flavours, just what we needed.
Ancient Hindu Shrines and Sleeping in a Bus
Our tour kicked into high gear as we made our first stop at the ruins of Prasat Khao Noi. This ancient Hindu shrine, perched atop the limestone hill, whispered stories of the past. While only one prang stood tall, the remnants of history captivated us. Among the excavated treasures was a stone lintel inscribed in 637 AD—a tangible connection to a time long forgotten.
As we made our way through a vibrant Sunday market filled with the aroma of local delicacies, we couldn't resist picking up unique seeds from the surrounding trees. Each seed had its own personality—some were light and fluffy, while others had a sticky or thorny exterior. One particularly explosive seed even surprised us, bursting from its shell with a pop and scattering its contents like confetti!
Our journey continued into Khao Chakan Forest Park, a spectacular landscape of towering limestone mountains and deep caves. A steep flight of stairs led us to a massive opening in the rock, rewarding our effort with stunning views of the lush countryside below. This would have been an ideal camping spot, were it not for the playful army of monkeys keeping a watchful eye on us. In our exploration, we stumbled upon the Bus Resort, an extraordinary place where buses were transformed into cosy, air-conditioned accommodations, complete with fridges and bathrooms—definitely a quirky twist to the day.
Through an Elephant Sanctuary to a Sunset Paddle.
Once again, the open road called, promising another thrilling day of cycling. The winding paths meandered over the hills and through the Khao Ang Rue Nai Wildlife Sanctuary, where the fresh scent of elephant dung reminded us of the majestic creatures that roam these lands. Though we didn’t spot any elephants, mischievous monkeys entertained us with their antics.
After conquering the mountains, a thrilling descent led to the quaint village of Khlong Takao. Our plan was to camp by the dam, but a flooded road added an unexpected twist to our day and extended our ride longer than anticipated.
Despite the setback, Sronlai Homestay offered picturesque camping. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, we couldn’t resist the kayaks and paddled out for a serene evening. The gentle lapping of the water and the soft glow of the setting sun brought an enchanting end to another day on the road.
Breath-taking Views and Weaving Market
What a ride! The journey to Phanat Nikhom was absolutely exhilarating, with country roads winding through lush rubber tree plantations and farmers diligently preparing their paddy fields.
At a temple, a challenging hike that involved conquering a near-vertical flight of stairs led to a breathtaking viewpoint. There, amid the serene landscape, stood a dimly lit sanctuary, housing a collection of dusty Buddha statues that felt like secrets waiting to be discovered.
As we cycled into Phanat Nikhom, we spotted a sign directing us to a weaving market and factory. Intrigued, we spent time marvelling at their incredible craftsmanship, including the world’s largest hand-woven basket—a true testament to local artisanship. Afterwards, we ventured off to find accommodation at a nearby temple on the town’s outskirts. The temple vibrated with life, and we were greeted by an overwhelming presence of temple dogs darting around joyfully. We also encountered a few salesmen offering brooms and feather dusters, who appeared to be well-prepared for an overnight stay with their sleeping mats, fans, and cooking gear set up around the temple grounds.
Monkeys, Markets, and Surprise Navigation Help
Throughout the night, the temple buzzed with noise, partly from the dogs barking furiously at every little sound and partly from the incessant traffic on the nearby busy highway. Despite the chaos, we found ourselves laughing at the madness around us. By morning, we bravely saddled up, waved goodbye to the friendly feather duster salesmen and the monks, and set off with a couple of curious temple dogs in tow.
It wasn’t long before we stumbled upon a peaceful rural road that brought a sigh of relief. We pointed our bikes towards Chachoengsao, only to encounter unexpected roadworks. Thankfully, a kind farmer came to our rescue and led us along a hidden path not shown on our map.
Once in Chachoengsao, we navigated through the bustling city to reach the charming old market by the Bang Pakong River, believed to be over a century old. Although it was midweek and the market was closed, we roamed the area, admiring the beautiful wooden structures. In true Thai fashion, the shop owners, who lived above their shops, welcomed us with broad smiles and invitations to taste their delicious specialities. After enjoying a lovely coffee at a riverside café, we set off to find our next place to stay.
The Final Approach: Trains, Tyres, and One Last Mix-Up
We decided to hop on a train to Bangkok, skipping the chaotic traffic. With a variety of trains to choose from, we had all the time in the world to leisurely cycle to the station. However, I woke to a flat tyre. Janice and Chris zoomed ahead while I tackled the puncture. When I finally arrived at the station, they were nowhere to be found. It turned out they had accidentally cycled to the bus station a kilometre away! After a bit of back-and-forth, we reunited and boarded the train headed for the city.
Bangkok: Full Circle
Back in Bangkok, everything felt bigger, louder, faster. Bike repairs were overdue (very overdue), and the racks, held together by cable ties, were finally retired. Janice and Chris began packing up their bikes for the journey home.
But we weren’t done yet.
Not quite.
Thankfully, we still had a few days to explore more of Bangkok and its surroundings. That evening, we enjoyed a delightful reunion with Tania and Rodd, a friendly chap from New Zealand who instantly added warmth and laughter to our conversation.
Bangkok Adventures One Last Adventure (Of Course)
The night before, we teamed up with Rodd to explore the famous Samut Songkhram Railway Market and Amphawa Floating Market. We woke excited and jumped into a taxi to Wonwian Yai Station. There, we encountered the train parked in the middle of the road, making our ride feel like a game of Frogger.
For just 10 THB, we hopped on a train to Maha Chai Station, then took a charming 3 THB ferry across the river, and after a brisk sprint to Ban Laem Station, we boarded another train, convinced that 10 THB was our lucky number.
Arriving at the Railway Market, we were met with a chaotic symphony of vendors quickly clearing their stalls as a train approached. We enjoyed bowls of delicious noodle soup before cramming into a Songthaew, which felt a bit cramped.
At Amphawa Floating Market, the heat was intense, so we opted for a 50 THB canal tour that felt more like a floating sauna. After over two hours on the water, we returned to land, exhausted but happy, feeling as if we had just survived an adventure of a lifetime. What a day!
The Final Evenings: Markets, Memories, and a Surprise Gift
Back in Bangkok, we drifted through markets, drank cold beers on small plastic chairs, and watched the world go by one last time.
That’s when Janice surprised me with a gift—a camera backpack.
Completely unexpected.
Completely unnecessary.
And completely appreciated.
It’s funny how the smallest moments end up meaning the most.
The End
And then… just like that…It was over.
Janice and Chris jumped into a taxi bound for the
airport, heading back to Cape Town after 2,422 kilometres of cycling, countless
meals, endless heat, and more memories than we could possibly count.
As they disappeared into Bangkok traffic, there was
that familiar mix of emotions:
Pride. Gratitude. And just a little bit of “what
now?”
Because after a journey like this…You don’t really
finish it. You just start riding again
