0026 CYCLE TOURING VIETNAM (1) 2009

 

VIETNAM (1)

2720 Kilometres – 53 Days

25 June – 17 August 2009

Photos

 

25 June - Svay Rieng, Cambodia - Cu Chi, Vietnam – 87 km

Under scores of “Hellos”, we left Cambodia and entered Vietnam. Already having visas meant the border crossing was an uncomplicated affair.

Once underway, the notorious motorbike traffic was immediately evident. Although the road was in good condition, the traffic was horrendous. Once in Cu Chi, our first settlement, we stayed overnight to check our new environment, change money, and check prices. The Vietnamese currency is Dong, equating to roughly seventeen or eighteen thousand Dong to one US Doller. Visiting an ATM resulted in returning with a bag full of money and I realised I needed a more substantial wallet.

My idea of investigating the Cu Chi tunnels went out the window. My cycling partner was uninterested in detours as he claimed he was biking around the world and not there to sightsee. Have you ever!

From the onset, one could tell the language would be a problem. That evening we found the menu only in Vietnamese, not all strange as we were in Vietnam after all. The restaurant owner kindly phoned a friend who spoke a little English. Still, we couldn’t manage to order a simple vegetable fried rice and received shrimp fried rice. I was starving and guzzled my fair share, only digging out the shrimp that Ernest happily added to his meal.

 

26 June - Cu Chi - Saigon – 38 km

Saigon had over 3 million motorcycles, finding the way congested by motorbikes thus wasn't surprising. Moreover, Saigon was a vast sprawling area, spreading practically from the Cambodian border to the South China Sea. The ride thus was a short but stressful one. However, once in the city centre, finding accommodation wasn’t all difficult as there were hundreds of hotels but finding a specific one was quite tricky.

Once settled, a walk to the market revealed a modern buzzing city jam-packed with tall slick skyscrapers next to ramshackle eateries and motorbike repair shops. Pavements were lined by carts selling large varieties of goods. Ernest even bought new underwear (thank goodness) and not any old underwear but Kalvin Klein. The price, however, suggested it wasn’t the real McCoy.

Almost all referred to the city by its old name, “Saigon”, instead of TP Ho Chi Ming city. The only one’s referring to the city by its proper name seemed the officialdom.

 

27 June - Saigon

Watching the thousands of motorbikes scooting through town was a fascinating affair. The Vietnamese balance on bikes was quite extraordinary, resulting in them continuing their daily lives while driving. They smoked, talked on the phone, fed babies, and delivered bowls of noodle soup, all while negotiating the hectic traffic. It was further not uncommon to see patients released from the hospital on a motorbike – an IV still attached to the arm.

A substantial portion of the day was spent in our hotel as Ernest discovered SuperSport, and lo and behold, wouldn’t South Africa be playing the British Lions? Good thing they won, as watching them lose would’ve been pretty sad. Ernest, no doubt, celebrated with the local brew.

 

28 June - Saigon - Cia Ray – 72 km

Departing Saigon meant cycling through the traffic close to fifty kilometres before being spat out in a less congested area. The ride was dead boring and offered little besides highway and traffic. Luckily, we came upon a motorbike lane, which appeared busier than the car lane. There were indeed more motorbikes than cars in Vietnam, at least by following the bike lane one stayed out of the way of the trucks and buses.

Language continued to be a significant problem. Just as you thought you’d figured out the Vietnamese for, say, hotel or vegetables, you find the word could have many different meanings.

 

29 June - Cia Ray - Phan Thiet - 96 km

The ride to Phan Thiet was unspectacular, and there seemed little of whatever I’d envisaged as Vietnamese. While there were generally friendly “hellos”, we (understandably) had the occasional “Fuck You.”

Roadside stalls sold green guavas served sprinkled with salt and chilly, an unusual but tasty combination.

Staying in Phan Thiet was primarily due to me wanting to have my laptop repaired. Unfortunately, this usually uncomplicated task was more problematic due to my lack of Vietnamese.

Phan Thiet turned out a slightly smelly town. I understood the city produced seventeen million litres of fish sauce per annum. No wonder a tad of a smell prevailed. Phan Thiet, nonetheless, sported a pretty river harbour and colourful fishing boats.

 

30 June - 1 July - Phan Thiet - Mui Ne Beach - 37 km

A short cycle took us along the coast to the seaside settlement of Mui Ne. So tiny was this settlement, at first, we overshot the turnoff. After retracing our steps, an abode right at the beach was uncovered. Sadly, my first swim in the South China Sea, wasn’t as warm as envisaged.

 

2 July - Mui Ne Beach

Two days were spent at Mui Ne Beach as I had bike problems. Ernest tried fixing it, but what was needed was a new bottom bracket. In the meantime, I enjoyed the beach and the excellent Vietnamese coffee. Fortunately, the coffee was served accompanied by extra hot water. Traditionally, the Vietnamese drink immensely strong coffee with a good dose of condensed milk.

 

3 July - Mui Ne Beach - Ca Na - 134 km

In the morning, we set out, anew and the way lay flat and wide in front of us. The bike squeaked and rattled and each turn of the peddle, brought a clunking sound. The climate was more arid than what we’ve become accustomed to. A substantial part of the cultivated vegetation consisted of cactus-type plants (devil fruit) – indicating less rain and more heat.

 

4 July - Ca Na - Nha Trang – 140 km

The Vietnamese generally took Siesta during the day’s heat and practically everywhere one could see people swinging in hammocks. Even at roadside shops a person first had to wake the shopkeeper who generally looked surprised at his untimely patrons.

I wasn’t sure what Ernest’s rush was, but we pushed onwards to Nha Trang and I was pretty exhausted by the time we crawled into our destination.

 

5 July - Nha Trang

Nha Trang’s many attractions made staying an additional day. First, I took to the streets exploring the historic Cham towers atop a rocky outcrop outside the town centre. Afterwards, a motorbike taxi took me to the White Buddha on top of a small hill. Finally, swimming in the South China sea’s lukewarm waters was a perfect way to end the day.

 

6 July - Nha Trang

The following morning I joined the famous Mama Linh’s Boat Tours (more a party boat than anything else) to a nearby island. The trip included snorkelling, music, dancing and a floating bar, lunch, and loads of fruit—all in all, a good day out. By evening I splashed out on pizza and following months of instant noodles, the pizza went down extraordinarily well.

 

7 July - Nha Trang - Tuy Hoa - 130 km

I felt strong and the day turned out a beautiful and scenic one. The route followed the coast, and the day became one of colour, featuring a turquoise sea, blue mountains and a cloudless sky. At times our path led inland, and we found ourselves biking amongst emerald-green rice paddies tended by grass-hatted peasants. These scenes made me feel I’d finally arrived in Vietnam.

 

8 July - Tuy Hoa - Quy Nhon - 102 km

The stretch from Tuy Hoa to Quy Nhon was awfully hilly but stunning. Such views didn’t come without hard work and it took biking up incredibly steep hills. The weather was sweltering, and we sweated buckets as we pedalled past small communities. Villagers dried rice, coconut and cassava as we biked past picturesque fishing harbours.

En route, people sat on kindergarten plastic chairs, eating bowls of noodle soup. Unfortunately, the Vietnamese were tiny, and I found the chairs far too small to eat comfortably.

Quy Nhon indicated the end of the day’s ride, but all budget rooms were fully booked, due to university entrance exams. The event resulted in fifty thousand additional people in the city. The only available establishment was an exceptionally pricey hotel. At least the price included a buffet breakfast, where I’m sure, we made a dent in the hotel’s profit.

 

9 July - Quy Nhon - Sa Huynh - 118 km

The path left the coast and veered inland over hills; the heat combined with an equally hot wind made exhausting riding. Numerous times, on this trip, I’ve been asked the question, “Why are you doing this?” On this day I asked the same. Only mad dogs and two South Africans were out in the midday heat. Even the villagers took shelter and rested in hammocks under trees.

We proceeded up and over the hills until finally, and in gathering dusk, slinked into Sa Huynh where digs were right on the beach. The place had seen better days but was a bargain at the price. The room sported an air-con and a bathtub. Unfortunately, the hot water system must’ve been faulty, as the water from the tap burned a massive blister on my arm.

Sa Huynh is a small village blessed with a beautiful beach, and hardly any tourists - a pure heaven.

 

10 July - Sa Huynh - My Khe Beach – 79 km

I was up early to catch the sunrise over the South China Sea. Even at that early hour, I could feel a scorcher of a day coming on. I wasn’t wrong either. What else is there to do but follow suit and rest in the shade, swinging in a hammock?

Ernest bought himself a new saddle and was keen to get to the end of the day to fit it. His old saddle had done service for the trip duration and was held together by duct tape.

Later we turned off at Quang Ngai to explore the Son My Memorial site. Here, more than five hundred villagers were massacred by American GIs on 16 March 1968 (known as the My Lai Massacre). The soldiers involved were sworn to secrecy, but the news eventually leaked - after which the area was bombed and ploughed over to erase the evidence. A US military photographer photographed the event, and these shocking photos are now on display in a museum on site.

On that sombre note we set off to the beach two kilometres further and located an ageing wooden bungalow upon stilts, across from the beach. The seawater was lukewarm, and being Friday evening, masses of people were at the beach, mainly from nearby Quang Ngai, enjoying the start of the weekend.

 

11 July - My Khe Beach - Vinh Dien – 125 km

From My Khe Beach to Vinh Dien the day was again marred by a long hot day of biking in oppressing heat. It felt as if only the two South Africans were out in the midday heat - even the mad dogs rested in the shade. I’m sure I would’ve burst into flames if there was a thing like spontaneous combustion. We finally made it to Vinh Dien, the turnoff to Hoi An. Again, I was beaten and called it quits and mercifully uncovered a café advertising rooms out back at a reasonable price.

 

12-15 July- Hoi An

The short pedal into Hoi An was hot and Ernest disappeared in the chaos of tourists, motorcycles, bicycles, and pedestrians. He nonetheless reappeared after I located suitable digs. Hoi An was a popular tourist destination that sported a lovely historic Old Town and it thus called for a day or two of sightseeing.

Approximately 55 km away were the My Son ancient Cham ruins (sadly what remained of these ruins were further destroyed by the Americans during the war). I decided not to visit as I was coming down with flu, and considered it best to take a rest day before heading North.

 

Hoi An

My flu became worse, and we stayed an extra day. I disliked being in the same spot for long, but there was nothing to do but wait until the flu abated.

I thought Hoi An an over-commercialised madhouse. One was constantly harassed by touts, grabbing hold of you “come see my shop”, “special price you”, “I make the nice shirt you”, “you buy something “, “very cheap manicure, pedicure, hair removal, foot massage”. They drove me bonkers.

 

16 July - Hoi An - Phu Bai – 122 km

I was eager to get going, albeit still feeling rotten. On a day I least needed it the route threw three mountain passes at us.

Even with Vietnam being a popular tourist and cycling destination, we received a fair number of stares, even calling friends and family to come to look at this spectacle. Women pointed at my uncovered arms and pulled up their noses in disgust at not covering up. In addition, the Vietnamese disapproved of being out in the midday sun getting frazzled.

I huffed, puffed and coughed up the passes and when the weather came in, at around half past four, I called it a day instead of biking the last kilometres in the rain to Hue. At least the scenery up the Hai Van Pass was magnificent.

 

17-19 July - Phu Bai - Hue – 14 km

The following day, we proceeded to Hue, where we applied for a visa extension, which came at quite a cost.

Waiting, I spent my time walking the citadel where many of Hue’s interesting sights were located, and half its population still lived within its two-meter-thick walls. Inside the citadel I found the imperial enclosure as well as a 37-meter-high flagpole, beautiful temples and pagodas, which survived the war.

Hue is located along both banks of the Perfume River and across the river from where we stayed was Hue’s largest market, the Dong Ba Market.

The Trang Tien Bridge over the river was quite spectacular at night. Ever-changing colourful lights lit up the bridge. Dragonboat look-alikes were moored along the side, begging to take anyone with cash on a sightseeing tour along the river.

 

20 July - Hue - Dong Ha – 73 km

Vietnam had many wars, first the Chinese, then the French, and then the Americans. Resulting in even the smallest hamlet having a war memorial. Moreover, Dong Ha was situated on the edge of the DMZ border (Demilitarized Zone – a strip of land along either side of the Ben Hai River, the border between North and South Vietnam). Ironically, the area became one of the most militarised regions of Vietnam during the last war. Therefore, there was no shortage of war memorials and graveyards in this area—what a waste of lives.

Sadly peasant folk continued digging around the area despite substantial warnings, searching for leftover metal to sell as scrap. As a result, even 40 years later, people are still killed by leftover mines and unexploded bombs.

 

21 July - Dong Ha - Dong Hoi – 97 km

The weather was boiling, and the sun-baked down, drying and shrivelling our skins from above. At the same time, the black tarmac radiated heat upwards, leaving us drenched in sweat.

En route to Dong Hoi, situated along the northern side of the Zone, our path crossed the DMZ. Today the area consists of peaceful rice fields and grazing water buffalo. Nevertheless, the area was littered with bomb craters, by then filled with rainwater, which the resourceful villagers used as fishponds.

At rest areas, coffee came served in a glass, about three-quarters full, but exceptionally strong and served accompanied by a bowl of ice and a straw.

Shortly before midday, rain came gushing down. As a long-distance remained to Dong Hoi, we braved the weather and continued pedalling instead of taking shelter. Thank goodness the showers were over in less than 2 hours, still, I thought it was a stupid thing to do.

Dong Hoi is blessed with a great location right upon the river. Still, one got reminded of the war as one entered the town and saw the ruins of a church bombed during the war. We located accommodation along the riverfront featuring lovely river views at seven dollars. Though the place had a fan, I still sweated buckets.

 

22 June - Dong Hoi - Ky Anh – 107 km

I was up early to catch the sunrise over the Nhat Le River, and what a beautiful display of colour. Shortly afterwards, we resumed our journey, even though the sun was relentless. Neither Ernest nor I fully recovered from the flu and felt weak and tired. The map and distance markers didn’t correspond until coming across a newly built tunnel. To our relief, climbing up and over the pass wasn't necessary. We whizzed the 500 meters through the tunnel, where the view revealed the old road winding over the mountain. The tunnel didn’t merely cut out the pass but took twelve km off the distance. Exhausted we crawled into Ky Anh; I felt weak and dizzy and had no energy. I thus ate my noodles and turned in early.

Most villagers don’t have a concept of cycling long distance and usually glaze over when you tell them where you’re from and where you’re going. The Vietnamese were no different. Biking from one country to the next genuinely baffled them. So why not take a bus or a motorbike? I’ve given up trying to explain. I don’t have a decent answer anyhow.

Ice is a big business in the tropics. In the early morning, one could see ice sellers on bicycles carting massive slabs of ice from business to business. The ice is then put in polystyrene cooler boxes; needless to say, one paid extra for everything coming out of that box.

 

23-24 July - Ky Anh - Vinh – 107 km

Our morning ritual remained unchanged: first, we drank coffee, packed panniers and loaded the bikes. My prized possession was my electric water heater used to make a quick cup of coffee. At least this little device was far less troublesome than having Ernest start up his MSR stove.

Again, a blistering hot day greeted us, accompanied by trucks blowing warm diesel fumes and road dust in our faces. Once the going got tough all I’d to do was look up at the magnificent landscape. Still, I felt dizzy and nauseous all day, likely due to the heat, but I stuck the iPod in my ears and battled on. I must’ve gone through the whole caboodle Jimmy Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Queen, or anything with a half-decent beat would’ve done.

Vinh made a good enough spot to recover from our flu, and we stayed in bed the next day. Ernest concocted a fruit salad as well as a green salad hoping it would aid the recovery process.

 

25 July - Vinh - Tinh Gia – 115 km

The next day turned out significantly better as I’d either finally recovered from the flu or it wasn’t as hot as the preceding days. Whatever the reason, I was delighted with the improved circumstances. The best part of the day I listened to great music from yesteryear, including Eric Clapton, Jeff Buckley, Pink Floyd, and Bob Marley, and the day flew by.

Although the route wasn’t busy with cars there remained a significant number of trucks and busses, at least they usually made their presence known by a friendly toot when coming up behind you, at times loud enough to blow you off the bike. Traffic in Vietnam appeared to drive on, more commonly known as, the “Egyptian brake”, hoot and go. Then, early morning, we witnessed a young lady on a bicycle killed by a truck. Her family sat weeping around the body. This put me in a pensive mood; it’s final, no take two, no replay, it’s game over.

By evening it took considerable time to find a suitable abode at the right price. The digs uncovered came with the compulsory comb and toothbrushes.

The interesting part was that one could buy “Bia Hoi” (draft beer) in one-litre plastic bottles at 8000 dong - (1 USD = 18000 dong). So the saying goes if one can order beer in the local lingo you’ve pretty much mastered the language; if that was indeed the case then my Vietnamese was coming on nicely.

 

26 July - Tinh Gia - Ninh Binh – 119 km

As “Bia Hoi” was sold at roadside eateries, drinking and driving didn’t seem a significant offence. Spotting a Vietnamese who’d been drinking was relatively easy as their faces turned bright red. When a red-faced Vietnamese on a motorbike pulled up next to you, sending an SMS one-handed while holding a cigarette in the other, it’s best to get out of the way.

We stayed in Ninh Binh an extra day, relaxing and doing laundry and other chores. The evening was spent socialising with two other cyclists, James and Tracey from the UK, whom we’d previously met in Siem Reap, Cambodia.

 

27-28 July - Ninh Binh - Hanoi – 96 km

The route into Hanoi was flat, scenic, and uncomplicated but came with punctures and horrendous traffic. At least the weather was slightly better with only a tad of a drizzle. Unfortunately, once in the city, rain came bucketing down. Finding lodging in the old town's narrow lanes where street names changed every few blocks, took forever. Hanoi’s old quarters were a maze of narrow alleys congested by tourists and Vietnamese alike. The streets and pavements were jam-packed with peasant peddlers in conical hats selling various goods and nibbles.

 

29 July - 4 August - Hanoi

In the morning, we went to the Chinese embassy to apply for our onward visas. The news that South Africans couldn’t obtain a Chinese visa in Vietnam was a total shock. We were stunned and quite speechless. But then, when cycle touring, not a single day is without a surprise.

Still, I was secretly pleased as it meant I could cycle Laos. I further thought that the most scenic part of China was the Yunnan and Sichuan Provinces. Yay, to the authorities in Hanoi!

In the meantime, I arranged with my sister to send me a new bottom bracket and a few other spares, which would take a few days to arrive. In the subsequent days, I handed in my laptop to be repaired and spend the rest of the time eating, drinking, and exploring. While investigating the pedestrian lanes, I came upon the grilled dog restaurants. Prepared on a spit, they weren’t much different from a pig on a spit – still, it was weird.

On one of my walkabouts, I met Marc, a Canadian cyclist. We’d previously met in Nepal and I saw him in Bangkok. By evening the 3 of us frequented a pizza restaurant offering “eat as much as you can”. Don’t tell that to a cyclist if you’re planning on making a profit.

Early the following morning Ernest locked himself in the bathroom, as the door handle malfunctioned. His call for help reminded me of “The Way Up To Heaven” by Roald Dahl. After considerable deliberation I eventually passed him his cycle tools through the air vent. But then, taking all our discord, I should’ve paid for the room a week and pedalled out of there. Hahahaha!

 

5 August - Hanoi – Hai Phong – 109 km

The best was to backtrack and cross the border into Laos further South. Well-fed and rested, we eventually got underway. The day’s ride wasn’t scenic as we stuck to the main road which led to the coast—nearly the entire area was built up and came with hectic traffic. Mercifully, a large part of the way had a cycle path. Even though used as a market and clogged by loaded bicycles and other forms of transport, it remained a blessing. At least fruit carts were abundant (predominantly peaches), which were eaten sprinkled with a mixture of salt and chilli powder.

 

6 - 7 August - Hai Phong – Cat Ba Island - By ferry (14 km)

We bike to the pier, where I surmised we were overcharged. The ferry turned out to be a real rust bucket, not a car ferry (as led to believe). Instead, our bikes had to go on the roof atop bags of rice, crates of noodles, and casks of Bia Hoi. Communism was genuinely dead, and Capitalism was very much alive.

The two-hour trip to Cat Ba Island was nevertheless spectacular. Cat Ba Island is a nature reserve sporting a craggy and rocky coastline. The island was sparsely populated, and we bedded down at an 8-dollar abode. Still, the room overlooked the “hotel strip” and fishing harbour - a brilliant sight. Staying the following day came easy as the weather came in, and we watched a fantastic display of thunder and lightning thru the bedroom window.

The island was popular with both domestic and international tourists. As is the case at other holiday venues in Vietnam, Karaoke and Massage was available at every second shop (aka “Singing & Sex”). Like nearly all men, Ernest loved how the “girls” were trying to drag him in for “massage boom-boom”.

 

8 August - Cat Ba Island – Ha Long City - By ferry (37 km)

Eventually, I dragged Ernest, kicking, and screaming, from Cat Ba Town. The ride to the harbour at the island's northern ends was a hilly but extraordinarily scenic twenty-two-kilometre ride. Luckily, we were in time to catch the car ferry which took us across Ha Long Bay to Ha Long City. Words cannot describe the scenery and photographs cannot capture the beauty of the rocky island cliffs and absurd rock pinnacles jutting out of the sea.

Once in Ha Long City, situated, on the mainland, we proceeded to “hotel alley”, where it was easy to uncover an abode. The nearby market sold vegetables to accompany our noodles as well as freshly grilled tofu to add to the pot.

Afterwards, I did my dreaded laundry in the bathroom waste bin. If there were one thing going to get me down, it would be the darn laundry.

 

9 August - Ha Long City – Bieu Nghi – 27 km

Barely out of the city, we noticed a small hotel sporting ground-floor rooms. So unusual was this in Vietnam, we immediately pulled in. Most of the Vietnam buildings were long, narrow and straight up, like matchboxes on their side.

Ernest did my bike's maintenance work and fitted the new parts. I don’t think the people at this establishment have ever had foreign guests, and Ernest had a constant audience as well as willing helpers. Sadly, the job went wrong, and the bike has never been the same. I’m pretty aware that people may think me harsh or relentless. Still, I prefer using professional people to do the job.

 

10 August - Bieu Nghi – Nam Dinh – 127 km

Albeit hot, the day turned out effortless riding and we rode into Nam Dinh earlier than anticipated. Finding lodging was, however, more complex. This wasn’t a touristy area. The only two establishments available were a house of ill repute and an expensive hotel. I couldn’t even locate an ATM. Being out of money, the only option was to stay at the pricey one where I could pay using a bank card.

The hotel was extremely comfortable and had all the mod cons, even a bathtub of which good use was made.

 

11 August - Nam Dinh – Tinh Gia – 135 km

We took off in the rain, rain which intensified by the minute. By mid-morning, the sky was so dark one could’ve assumed it was dusk. One of the feared offshore typhoons (gloomily reported on TV) had crept ashore. Luckily, the wind was on our backs. Our Vietnamese visas were valid for only a few more days, and it took pushing hard to reach the Laos border. Unfortunately, the relentless rain accompanied by thunder and lightning, terrible traffic, maintenance works, and flooding didn’t make the task any easier. Ernest hit a flooded pothole, puncturing his front tyre – no fun unpacking tools and doing repairs in those conditions.

Somehow, by 5 pm, we managed to finish the day’s ride at our target destination. After a shower and a hot cup of soup, I felt a great deal better. Phew, what a task cycling 135 km under those conditions.

 

12 August - Tinh Gia – Vinh – 102 km

Backtracking is never fun; at least the distance was short, giving plenty of time to chat with villagers and enjoy their version of Red Bull.

Finding a bush to use as a toilet wasn’t easy in a country like Vietnam. The total land area is approximately 330,000 sq km and the population 84 million. Compared to South Africa with 1,219,912 sq km, and (I think) about 55 million people. There’s thus no privacy, but when you must go, you must go.

Upon arrival in Vinh, we did the necessary shopping and searched for lodging.

 

13 August - Vinh - Ky Anh – 103 km

I couldn’t find my rhythm. My legs felt weak and my backside sore. I’m sure this was all mental, or maybe it was due to going to bed late and only eating instant noodles. I’d to dig deep and had to call in the help of the iPod and a Reb Bull. Still, we slinked in Ky Anh, situated around a rice paddy, early.

Ernest, as usual, rushed to the market to get foodstuff while I contemplated how many days one can cycle in the same clothes.

 

14 August - Ky Anh – Dong Hoi – 94 km

A person can go months and months without a puncture and then, suddenly, it’s one flat tyre after the other. This time I had the puncture and assumed my tires were wearing thin. We grinded into a headwind all day and eventually reached Dong Hoi into a stiff breeze at around 15h00, leaving plenty of time to do the usual shopping.

I was peed off as the air-con didn’t work and neither did the Wi-Fi, especially after being assured of both at check-in.

 

15 August - Dong Hai - Dong Ha – 97 km

Still, we backtracked across the DMZ with its bomb craters and onwards to Dong Ha. At least the ever-present sugarcane juice sellers prevailed, serving sugarcane with lemon juice and salt over ice, just the thing a weary cyclist needed. Fortunately, this was our last day of backtracking as Dong Ha signalled the Laos border turnoff.

 

16 August - Dong Ha - Lao Bao – 83 km

The stretch to the border ran in a westerly direction past plenty of wartime relics including Camp Carroll and the well-known Khe Sanh Combat Base, which crossed numerous paths collectively known as the Ho Chi Minh Trails. We climbed up hills and overpasses that sported views of beautiful valleys and fields. The hill tribes encountered differed from the Vietnamese met along the coast. Mostly, they lived in bamboo woven huts upon stilts, dressed in traditional sarong-like skirts, and carried their goods in woven baskets on their backs (instead of the bamboo pole with the two baskets dangling from each end).

The border town of Lao Bao meant the end of our rushed visit to Vietnam. It would be years before I could return to investigate Vietnam at my own pace, an experience I thoroughly enjoyed.

Lao Bao made a welcome overnight spot from where to cross the border in the morning. Ernest set out to the market and returned minutes before another storm broke.

 

17 August - Bao Lao, Vietnam – Xepon, Laos – 50 km

The Vietnam/Laos border crossing came without difficulty, and all one needed was an application form, $35 and a photo. Unfortunately, there were no ATMs on the Laos side, and Ernest returned to draw money on the Vietnamese side, which could then be changed to Lao kip. I didn’t particularly appreciate doing this, as changing money at borders was tricky and seldom a win-win situation. But, at least it provided enough currency to get us to Savannakhét, the next sizable town.

Laos immediately appeared more laidback, less populated and with fewer motorbikes than Vietnam. People carried their wares in woven baskets on their backs or on shoulder poles, and friendly kids shouted “Sapadii, Felang”, making me instantly fall in love with Laos. The first day of biking in Laos offered stunning vistas and a few hills.

025 CYCLE TOURING CAMBODIA (1) 2009

 

Photo by Ernest Markwood

CAMBODIA (1) 2009

1156 Kilometres – 30 Days

26 May – 25 June 2009

MAP

Photos

 

 

26 May – Aranyaprathet, Thailand – Sisophon, Cambodia – 56 Kilometres

Cambodia conjured up images of famine and mass killings. I was eager to see what the country would hold – hopefully none of the above. So, following a leisurely start, our path led to the border via the border market. The market was a large area with a warren of covered stalls selling the whole shebang. Many of the goods seemed from Cambodia which came in a steady stream through the border post, pushed or pulled on numerous heavily laden hand-drawn carts.

First, we’d to get a visa, which involved filling in a form and providing a photo, and then a turn at the “swine flu” checkpoint where our ears were probed and temperatures recorded.

Once in Cambodia, one knew straight away, you were out of well-organised Thailand and in a place a tad more chaotic than what I’d become used to in recent times. Cambodians drove on the right-hand side, adding chaos as vehicles meandered between the lanes at random.

The Cambodians seemed friendly enough, and calls of “hello” could be heard from behind banana trees as we biked past.

Sisophon, the first settlement reached, marked the end of the day’s ride. We settled for accommodation to sass out our new environment, change money, and locate a sim card. A rickety place upon stilts came at $2 – and was considered a bargain even though one could see through the floorboards. At first glance, things appeared less expensive than in Thailand. The Cambodian Riel equated to 4160 Riel to the US$. Bank cards get you dollars at the ATM (which could be changed in the bank or on the street to Riel). At the markets, prices were quoted in Riel, Thai Baht and dollars. As in Thailand, all drinks come with a straw, even a can of beer!

 

27 May - Sisophon - Siem Reap – 108 Kilometres

There’s such great excitement cycling into a new country; everything is different: money, food, language, culture, and countryside. As in Thailand, Cambodians grow vast quantities of rice and cows had a more worried expression than in India as they weren’t as holy as on the sub-continent.

The route between the border and Siem Reap was brand new (in fact they were still busy painting the lines). One could pedal along quite happily, past wooden houses upon stilts, grazing water buffalo, temples and rice paddies. In the process, we were overtaken by motorcycles with up to 3 pigs tied onto the back, children on bicycles, and motorbikes pulling trailers piled sky-high.

The rain stayed away and we slinked into touristy Siem Reap and Mommy’s Guest House shortly before the rain came down.

 

28 May - Siem Reap - Angkor Wat

Angkor Wat, a UNESCO World Heritage site, featuring 1000-year-old temples, came as a pleasant surprise. I spent the entire day cycling around the ruins and feasted my eyes upon these magnificent structures. Unfortunately, Cambodia is a lush and wooded country. These old structures are constantly under threat of being taken back by nature. It became a day I wished I had a better camera.

 

29 May - Siem Reap – Battambang - By boat

From Siem Reap I opted for a boat ride (bike and all) across the Tonle Sap Lake to Battambang, but Ernest preferred to head straight to Phnom Penh. I planned to ride along the opposite side of the Tonle Sap Lake in the direction of Phnom Pehn. I, therefore, departed early morning to reach the boat at the floating village of Chong Kneas (about 13km) south of Siem Reap by 7h00. Depending on the dry or wet season, these villages move as the lake rises or recedes.

Once aboard, we sped across the lake past villages consisting of entire floating towns with schools, restaurants and police posts. Most of these structures were built upon barges, rafts or stilts. Their sole means of transport were by canoe, and each household seemed to have two or more. Small children paddled to school; women rowed selling their produce house to house and barges went to the market laden with coconuts and bananas - a colourful sight. The trip took 8 hours and albeit fascinating, I was pleased to get to Battambang.

Once in Battambang, I searched out the popular Royal Hotel which sported good quality budget rooms.

 

30 May - Battambang – Pursat – 110 km

Cambodia was, for the most part, flat and a great place to cycle. I escaped the rain, even though I could see the rain, sometimes to my left, at times to my right and occasionally dead ahead. I shared my path with barefoot monks, cyclists, ox-drawn carts, and plenty of motorcycles loaded with entire families.

Cambodia was an astonishing country. Partly because I knew nothing regarding its history and secondly because I never envisaged the cities so developed. Towns had all the modern cons, including fancy hotels and well-developed tourist infrastructures. The countryside, nevertheless, remained rural with primitive farming methods.

 

31 May - Pursat – Kampong - Chnang – 95 km

The section between Pursat and Kampong Chnang made a great day of cycle touring. Shortly outside Pursat, I discovered the famed Bamboo train. The train was more a trolley than a train. In the company of heaps of villagers and their goods, we sped off - bobbing and swaying along warped tracks and over rickety bridges in a southerly direction. The ride was a slow process, as once a trolley was encountered heading in the opposite direction, all had to get off. The trolley lifted off the tracks to allow the northbound one to pass. Then all got on, only to repeat the process a little later. At around 11h00, I hopped off the trolley and headed to the main road. This involved a thirty-Kilometres cycle along a rutted and potholed dirt track.

I can report Cambodians indeed eat snakes as I spotted villagers selling fried snakes. However, I didn’t try the snake but instead opted for the bread roll served with ice cream and condensed milk sprinkled with a touch of sugar!

Fuelled by the sugar, I rolled into Kampong Chnang, early, where a comfortable looking guesthouse lured me in. I met John and Rosie from New Zealand, whose son was working in Cambodia. Following a beer, Dallas, their son, escorted us to a restaurant. Not merely was the evening a great change from my general instant noodles but a great lesson in Cambodian table manners. Upon the table was usually an array of utensils in a glass of water. Cambodians generally eat using a spoon and fork, unless there’s a bowl of soup in front of them, in which case it’s a spoon and chopsticks. One thing you don’t find in Cambodia or Thailand is a knife. It’s impolite to put the fork into your mouth – instead, the fork is used to push food onto the spoon. Shared condiments are always available, including chilli or pickled green chillies, sugar, garlic flakes, fish sauce and soy sauce. I never saw salt. To me, the biggest surprise in Southeast Asia was (and still is) the habit of indulging in slurping, lip-smacking and any other noises you can find to convey enjoying your meal. Of course, you won’t get yourself in trouble eating with your mouth open or putting your elbows on the table. Still, I found placing my paper napkins or bones straight onto the floor under the table, challenging. In the bigger cities, nearly all restaurants provide a bin under the table. Still, these items go directly under the table in more traditional areas.

 

1 June - Kampong Chnang – Phnom Penh – 93 km

My path passed small rural communities, rice fields and sugar palm trees while stupas and temples dotted the countryside. I passed ox carts laden with the famed Andong Rossey pottery heading to the bigger markets.

Again, I was in the company of merchants on bicycles, carting their wares to villages. Gone were the days of Thailand’s fancy petrol stations with 7-Eleven shops. Instead, they were replaced by a multitude of small stalls selling petrol by the litre (in Coke or Pepsi bottles), or in a big drum operated by a hand pump. Here one could get refreshments, i.e. water and cold drinks.

Once in the city, I headed to “backpackerville”, an area sporting budget accommodation on the lake. These rickety wooden structures were built upon stilts over the lake and not simply provided a good sunset but a cool breeze from the lake.

The area had no shortage of eateries and one could pick between Thai, Vietnamese, Italian and Indian. Albeit expensive, I couldn’t resist the Indian restaurant and had my fill before retiring.

 

2-5 June 2009 - Phnom Penh

In Phnom Penh, I again ran into Ernest. First, of course, we did the usual laundry, internet etc. However, I used the time to explore Phnom Penh’s well-known and bustling markets. The markets were massive and crammed with shoppers and traders, selling anything imaginable, from rolls of fabric, meat, jewellery, dry food and veg. I was so inspired; I even bought souvenirs for my family and friends.

Sending the parcel turned out to be a mission. The night before posting it, Ernest (in true Ernest style) securely boxed, wrapped and taped up the items. However, the following day at the post office, staff insisted upon reopening the parcel to check the contents (Ernest volunteered to do the “opening” to ensure the package could be re-sealed). Another problem was the postage cost, many times that of the contents!

One can’t visit Cambodia and not see the Tuol Sleng Museum (a former school converted to a prison and torture house by the Khmer Rouge regime in the 1970s). In these forlorn-looking school buildings thousands of people were detained and tortured to death, or sent to nearby killing fields and buried there in mass graves. The visit left me in a dark and depressed mood, and to cure this mood, I went shopping. I bought a new camera, as my existing one got wet some time ago and was never the same afterwards.

 

6 June - Phnom Penh - Traeng Tratueng – 91 km

New camera in hand, I set out and clicked away all day. The photos weren’t all good, but the quality was unmistakably better. During the day, we met the New Zealanders John and Rosie and their son Dallas along the route. What a small world. The good shoulder cycled on until then vanished at about that point, and the rest of the day was spent grinding into a headwind on the gravel next to the narrow busy highway.

Once in Traeng Tratueng, we couldn’t decide whether to visit the nearby national park. However, the 30-Kilometres uphill ride, and the fact one would be directly into the wind made us settle for roadside digs.

 

7 June - Traeng Tratueng - Veal Rinh – 97 km

The day was marred by a strong headwind and horrendous traffic not a combination that makes cycling enjoyable. Luckily, the rain stayed away but passed so close we could smell it. Once at the junction community of Veal Rinh, taxi drivers came running, all offering us a ride to the coastal city of Sihanoukville. According to them, Sihanoukville was too far to cycle (roughly fifty kilometres) and claimed no accommodation existed in Veal Rinh. Declining their offers we surprisingly (or not surprisingly) located a guesthouse along the main street a few metres from the taxi stand.

 

8 June - Veal Rinh - Sihanoukville (a.k.a. Kampong Som) – 50 km

In the morning we again met the New Zealanders on their way in the opposite direction. Our chat was followed by a short scenic ride to Sihanoukville, a large and lively touristy coastal city.

Once in Sihanoukville the Markara Guest House right across from Occheuteal Beach was a perfect choice. The beach sported numerous restaurants beside the water’s edge, creating an excellent place to sip a beer and watch the sunset.

 

9-10 June - Sihanoukville (Kampong Som)

A few days were spent swimming and unwinding. Then, finally, I handed in my laptop to be cleared of the ongoing viruses and did the usual rest day chores.

 

11 June - Sihanoukville - Ream National Park – 30 km

Barely on the bikes, we reached Ream National Park, which I found far too tempting to pass by. However, asking around a basic hut upon stilts over the river was uncovered. Once offloaded, we rented a rowboat to explore the nearby mangrove swamps.

The place had no running water or electricity. The plank floor had wide gaps and the water below was clearly visible (we’d to take care not to drop anything). However, the vista from the front deck made the lack of amenities worthwhile. We sat overlooking the nearby stilted hamlet, fishermen laying nets, passing boats, and the surrounding mangroves. By evening we ate our noodles on the deck, watching the fireflies. Life doesn’t get a great deal better than that!

 

12 June - Ream National Park - Kampot – 81 km

An incredibly scenic ride ran next to the coast, past river mouths and stilted fishing settlements. We headed towards Bodi Villa, along the Kampot River, as the place was rumoured to be a natural retreat. It was unusual as our bedroom consisted of a floating deck with woven bamboo sides, and what a view! One could dive out the open river-facing side of the room straight into the river. Getting onto the raft was a tad more complicated. Ernest complained of feeling seasick, he could be such a drag, and we consequently only stayed one night.

The strain of constantly being in each other’s company started to show. Ernest and I’ve known each over 30 years. Still, neither of us has previously lived permanently with a partner, and at times the reason became painfully clear!

 

13 June - Kampot – 14 km

Following an early morning swim, the route to Kep led through Kampot and I assumed the plan was to ride to Kep. Ernest, nonetheless, wanted to stay in Kampot which had more conventional accommodation. So I strolled the streets of Kampot with its ensemble of old French colonial buildings, coffee shops and pizza restaurants.

 

14 June - Kampot

The one downside regarding Cambodia was the feeling of constantly being overcharged. I guessed the price difference wasn’t unusual as all countries have “tourist prices” in popular areas. Still, the inflated prices weren’t the same as in Africa, or the Middle East where bartering was a way of life. One felt the quoted price in Cambodia was because you were a foreigner. Patience and a sense of humour (neither of which I’ve following a long day in the saddle) were thus needed when shopping for even the smallest item.

At least there appeared fewer snakes than in Thailand, no doubt due to their prominence on menus. However, ants were a far more significant problem; anywhere one stopped, one could get attacked in no time.

 

15 June - Kampot - Kep – 25 km

Twenty-five Kilometres along an uneven, statue-filled route, brought us to the sleepy seaside village of Kep. Almost all junctions were marked by a statue making directions easy, i.e. go straight at the rhino and turn left at the horse. En route we spotted a bakery and bought a loaf of bread. The challenge was to uncover something to put on the bread (unsuccessful).

Kep didn’t offer any noteworthy attractions and following a stroll along the coast, I think we’d seen everything. Ernest bought more to eat from the Crab Market, a long row of little restaurants/shops offering largely grilled seafood.

 

16 June - Kep - Kampot – 25 km

I tried going to the nearby island the next day, but the weather came in, signifying the rainy season had arrived. I decided to call it quits and return to Kampot, where there were more facilities. Once in Kampot, I explored the market and, like all other markets, found it crowded, hot, cramped and with a vast range of products. This included massive quantities of MSG, totally necessary with instant noodles. Heavy rain, thunder and lightning confounded us in our room the rest of the day.

Drugs in Cambodia appeared semi-legal and not unusual to encounter the Happy Herb Pizza (pizza ala ganja). However, drinking tap water was a big no-no. Still, the unfiltered water proved no problem to Ernest. He purified the water by adding two parts of Mekong Rice Whisky to one-part water.

 

17 June - Kampot

The rain continued through the day, but I used an hour or two of clear weather to investigate the nearby cave temples on the back of a moto. We slipped and slid through mud, past rice paddies and small hamlets, until reaching the cave. Once there, kids offered to act as tour guides. A stone staircase took me up the hill. It descended into the cave, where the kids, for extra income, pointed out the shapes of various animal outlines on the cave walls. Inside the cave, I uncovered a 7th-century brick-built temple dedicated to Shiva. The view of the surrounding countryside from atop the hill was magical.

 

19 June - Kampot - Takeo – 85 km

Ernest and I parted ways once more, the weather looked clear and I set off towards Takeo. The ride was along a narrow, bumpy road with potholes the size of small cars. The ride finished in Takeo around lunchtime, giving plenty of time to walk to the market. The grilled dog spotted was passed without a glance and I decided to stick to instant noodles.

 

20 June - Takeo

My guidebook stated a boat operated to Angkor Borei. Unable to negotiate a reasonable fee, a moto was hired. The reason a boat was recommended soon became apparent as no roads appeared. On the back of a motorbike, I flew through rice fields, potholes and along dirt tracks. Bouncing like a rag doll, arms and legs flailing, I desperately clung to my camera bag. Once in Angkor Borei little remained of this 5th-century city. Once, the area’s capital, was by then a poor community with only a few houses upon stilts. The small museum housed a few artefacts unearthed in the area.

The nearby Phnom Da was fascinating and featured an overgrown temple atop a hill accessed via 142 stairs. In addition to the temple were a few human-made caves. After spotting a bright green snake slithering from the cave ceiling, I took it as a sign to retrace my steps and return to Takeo. Upon my arrival, I also discovered Ernest there, according to him, simply by chance.

 

21 June - Takeo - Neak Luong – 131 km

The day’s route was in poor condition, narrow and extremely busy, making a soot-laden and exhaust-inhaling ride. Halfway through the day, my front luggage rack broke, a problem but duck tape and cable ties soon allowed proceeding to our destination.

Roadside stalls sold all kinds of nibbles, including dried frogs. At first, the idea was to cycle ninety kilometres and resume the ride in the morning. However, we missed the place we’d in mind and ended the day’s ride in Neak Luong. Neak Luong was situated along the opposite side of the mighty Mekong and a ferry operated from Kampon Phnum. Mercifully, the ferry ran 24/7 as we slinked into town long past sunset. The food vendors who operated onboard sold all kinds of unidentifiable items as well as the ever-present deep-fried frogs.

Neak Luong sported various accommodation types near the ferry terminal and we located a ground-floor abode. So large was the room one could wheel the bikes right inside.

 

22 June - Neak Luong

Neak Luong wasn’t a place you wanted to linger, but the Vietnamese visa was time-specific and valid only on the 25th, and we’d three days to kill.

With no bridge across the river, all buses stopped in Neak Luong to catch the river ferry. This resulted in an abundance of food carts, none of which failed to amaze. In Cambodia, nothing was sacred. One could buy practically anything from tiny, deep-fried birds to cooked turtles and crispy crickets. While everyday cuisine to Cambodians, these items left me nothing but jaw-dropping.

The sad story about Neak Luong was an American B52 mistakenly bombed the town in 1973. As a result, many citizens (137) were killed and 268 wounded. The U.S. government offered $100 to the families as compensation and fined the aircraft’s navigator $700.

 

23-24 June - Neak Luong - Svay Rieng - 65 km

A short ride headed to Svay Rieng, which sported a comfortable hotel. We were operating in low gear as entry into Vietnam was on the 25^th and the subsequent two days were spent in Svay Rieng. Our early arrival made convenient shopping at the market which sold a huge variety of fruit including mangosteen and rambutan. Ernest bought a rice meal cooked in banana leaf but couldn’t identify the filling. Svay Rieng didn’t have a great deal of exciting sights except strolling beside the river dotted by numerous mobile food carts.

The fascinating thing regarding accommodation in Cambodia was even the lowest of the bunch came with disposable toothbrushes and a comb (not disposable and generally pitch black). The state of the combs indicated; that they were in high demand. Who on earth would use a well-used communal comb?

Being vegetarian, I usually preferred checking the menu. Still, the amusing part in Cambodia was that one was scarcely inside the restaurant, and you were seated - a glass of ice water in front of you. Thus, perusing the menu and inquiring what ingredients the dish contained often resulted in having the prepared meal served in no time. This speedy service generally meant Ernest enjoyed two meals.

 

25 June - Svay Rieng, Cambodia - Cu Chi, Vietnam – 87 km

Under scores of “Hellos”, we departed Cambodia and entered Vietnam. Already having visas, the border crossing was an uncomplicated affair.

Once underway, the notorious motorbike traffic was immediately evident. Although the road was in good condition, the traffic was horrendous. Once in Cu Chi our first settlement, we stayed the night to check our new environment, change money, and check prices. The Vietnamese currency is Dong, equating to seventeen or eighteen thousand dong to one U.S. Doller. Visiting an ATM resulted in returning with a bag full of money, and I realised I needed a larger wallet.

My idea of investigating the Cu Chi tunnels went out the window. My cycling partner was uninterested in any detour. He claimed he was cycling around the world and not there to sightsee.

From the onset, one could tell the language would be a huge problem. By evening, we found the menu solely in Vietnamese, not strange; we were in Vietnam after all. The restaurant owner kindly phoned a friend who could speak a little English. Still, we couldn’t manage to order simple vegetable fried rice. Instead, we received shrimp-fried rice (close). Starving, I guzzled my fair share, digging out the shrimp Ernest happily added to his meal. 

024 CYCLE TOURING THAILAND (1) 2009

 

Photo by Ernest Markwood

THAILAND (1) 2009

2311 Kilometres – 39 Days

19 April–26 May 2009

MAP

PHOTOS

 

17–19 April- Kathmandu, Nepal – Bangkok, Thailand - By Air

Following a rather rushed visit to Nepal, we departed at 05h00 and biked through the quiet, dark streets of Kathmandu to the Airport. However, there was no need to arrive early as the flight, scheduled to leave at 9h00, only took off at 11h15.

Royal Nepal Airlines touched down in Bangkok after two-and-a-half hours. A costly taxi ride took us to the immensely touristy area of Banglamphu, where we immediately experienced Thailand's sweltering heat. We huffed, puffed, sweated, and finally had the bikes reassembled and panniers repacked.

With its bars, restaurants, and street food vendors, the famous Khao San Road gave us our first taste of Bangkok. Bangkok is a culinary feast for the brave of heart. Ernest, never one to back away from a "smiley" (roasted sheep's head in South Africa), enjoyed all that was on offer, including steaming bowls of Thai noodle soup with offal.

 

20–22 April - Bangkok

Modern Bangkok came as a pleasant surprise; without the constant hooting and drivers obeying traffic rules, they even stopped allowing one to cross the street. This came as a welcome change following six months in India.

A few days were spent discovering Bangkok, where there were alleys that never failed to amaze amidst ancient temples. These pedestrian lanes sold anything from amulets to second-hand false teeth and bridges. I kid you not. The next stop was Chinatown, whose warren of stalls offered the whole shebang, from food to fluffy teddy bears and jewellery. I guessed it could take years to explore the entire area. Then, on the Chao Phraya River ferry, the river was a hive of activity, carting people and goods to and from their destinations. Getting around by ferry wasn't merely easy but also a pleasure, as there was always a cool breeze coming off the water.

 

23 April - Bangkok – Samut Songkhram – 78 km

Itching to get underway, I was appalled to learn Ernest planned on heading straight to Cambodia. I had no plans to leave Thailand without investigating the rest of the country and its world-famous beaches. Nevertheless, I was adamant about heading south, with or without him. Getting out of Bangkok was far less stressful than even the smallest Indian town. No sooner were we on the bikes than we found ourselves along a highway heading South-East. The heat and humidity, I could tell, could be a significant factor. Although the weather was already boiling early in the morning, the roomy shoulder and motorists obeying traffic rules made cycling effortless.

Samut Songkhram and its famous railway market provided convenient overnighting and a hotel with air-con, a bar fridge and clean linen.

 

24 April - Samut Songkhram – Puk Tian Beach – 78 km

Sadly, we'd to leave our luxury abode and brave the relentless heat for the ride south. Shortly after departing a scenic coastal road turned off the highway. Ernest, the "highwayman", didn't appreciate this deviation but all long-lipped tagged along. So past marshy areas, salt farms (making one thirsty just looking at it) and tiny settlements, we rode until reaching the beachy regions along the Gulf of Thailand.

Finding food was a bigger problem than envisaged. Being vegetarian wasn't a concept Thais understood, or, more likely, I didn't know how to explain myself. Vegetables seemed considered salad and seldom did I encounter the usual green salad which I'm familiar with. My food of choice became lightly fried crispy veg and noodles, which I loved. Ernest enjoyed the wide variety of dishes, consisting mainly of meat and seafood accompanied by the ever-present staple of rice.

At Puk Tian Beach, a bungalow a block away from the beach was home that night. The beach is dominated by a gigantic statue of one of the deities in the epic poem Phra Aphai Mani, a 48,700-line poem from 1822, which took 22 years to write. Once unpacked, we set out on the hunt to locate food and as anticipated, Ernest had more success in this venture than I. I clearly had a few things to learn.

 

25-27 April - Puk Tian Beach – Hua Hin – 49 km

The coastal route passed the resort town of Cha-Am, where holidaymakers enjoyed a Saturday morning at the seaside. Later our way spat us out at the famous holiday town of Hua Hin. The beach looked far too good a place to pass by, and we quickly discovered a rickety guesthouse upon stilts in the old part of town overlooking the ocean. High tide made water lap under the wooden deck, a pleasant spot for a beer at sunset.

Hua Hin Beach sported deck chairs where one could kick back in the shade and sip a beer with the ocean lapping at your feet. The city was further famous for its nightly food markets. Here one could choose from a considerable variety of dishes but sadly no vegetarian food.

 

28 April - Hau Hin – Prachuap Khiri Khan – 98 km

Ernest faffed around forever and thus late by the time we finally got underway. Thank goodness, the way south was pancake flat, not a thing I ever complained about. Halfway through the day, lunch was a bowl of noodle soup, which one could find almost anywhere. Prachuap Khiri Khan's lovely village was reached relatively early and a hut north of town was our abode of choice. The scenery resembled the quintessential Thailand landscape of green jungle-coated limestone pinnacles, postcard-pretty white sandy beaches and a blue-green ocean.

By evening a walk into town revealed a lively night market featuring plenty to choose from. Ernest lapped up oysters but didn't have the stomach for the crispy fried grasshoppers, larvae, cockroaches, chicken feet and other bugs, all served with a dash of soy sauce and a pinch of pepper.

 

29 April-1 May - Prachuap Khiri Khan – Bang Saphan (Thalu Beach) – 115 km

We went a hundred and fifteen kilometres and shortly past Bang Saphan located Lola Bungalows, right upon the beach amongst palm trees, exactly what I've been dreaming of. With barely any tourists and a long white beach, the spot wasn't simply straight out of a tourist brochure but less pricey. Supper was at a restaurant a short walk beside the ocean, and I thought the day couldn't get a great deal better. Needless to say, we stayed a few days, as it was very much a swing-another-day-in-a-hammock kind of place.

 

2 May - Bang Saphan – Roadside Guesthouse – 89 km

Our path followed the coast, a magnificent ride past miles of lonely beaches and scenic bays. The cloudy weather made riding effortless, and we never got caught in the rain we could see around us. A roadside bungalow provided a bed and where we surprisingly, met a fellow South African, living in Thailand. The establishment had a restaurant making it unnecessary to cook. Thai food was quite delicious even if locating vegetarian food was tricky. The only problem was, I didn't think the food was substantial enough to see one through a long cycling day.

 

3 May – Roadside Guesthouse - Chumphon – 43 km

A leisurely ride from our overnight stop proceeded to Chumphon via Hat Tha Wua Laen Beach. Once in Chumphon, we headed to the well-known "Farang Bar" a backpacker's favourite at the time. Luckily, we slinked in minutes ahead of a heavy storm. What a pleasant surprise, the rooms were inexpensive, and the establishment had a popular bar and restaurant. I was pleased with the roof over my head with roaring thunder and an impressive lightning display. At least these storms never lasted long. Once the weather cleared, we ambled along to the nearby supermarket. We discovered bread, cheese and mayonnaise (different from the usual green curry). En route to our abode Ernest uncovered many tasty bits from the vast covered market but I noticed he gave the smoked rats a wide berth. From Chumphon, one could organise boats to the nearby islands, but my cycling partner wasn't keen on such ventures.

 

4 May - Champorn – Chaiya – 142 km

Ernest received an e-mail from his friend Rossouw, saying they were holidaying in Phuket but departing in four days. So we decided to race there to see if we could catch them before their returned home. Ernest was delighted with the urgent pace and it was pedal, pedal, pedal. At least the road was in good condition. By evening Ernest cooked pasta in anticipation of our long-distance the next day.

 

5 May - Chaiya – Au Leuk – 170 km

Again, we'd our heads down and pedalled on, crawling into Ao Leuk just as darkness fell.

 

6 May - Au Leuk – Phuket – 140 km

At least the route was scenic as we rode the last long stretch to Phuket, crossing the Sarasin Bridge, built in 1951 and said the first bridge to connect the mainland to the island. The bridge is a mere 660 meters long and has a tragic history. In 1973 two lovers jumped into the water after being denied a relationship by the young lady's father. Their sad story has subsequently been made into a film.

We went a further forty kilometres from this bridge before slinking into town. Once in Phuket town, a second look at the map revealed Rossouw and Dawn were at Patong Beach on the island's opposite side. I was tired and believed it best to stay put and do the last twenty kilometres in the morning.

 

7-8 May - Phuket – Patong Beach - 21 km

Although a short distance to the Beach, the route led via a steep hill, and it took walking the bike to the top. Hot and humid, I cycled right out of my sandals and had to stop to don socks, preventing me from sliding out of my shoes.

We met Rossouw and Dawn at their lovely hotel, high up upon a hill overlooking the beach. After a chat and beer, we left to find a spot to stay in bustling Patong. Not an exceedingly difficult task as the area was swarming with tourists sporting various accommodations.

The evening was spent enjoying a few Singhas to celebrate Dawn's 50th birthday. Patong Beach is a lively tourist area packed with bars, restaurants, dive shops and souvenir shops - not to mention scantily clad Thai girls enticing Farang men - to the great delight of Ernest and Rossouw.

Two days were spent at Patong, meeting with Rossouw and Dawn every so often for a beer and a chat. Phuket was expensive, as could be expected from such a well-visited destination. The unusual part was seeing elderly foreign men proudly parading their young Thai girlfriends on their arms. I found the concept of sex tourism somewhat immoral. The girls had the knack for making these ageing men feel like a million dollars.

I've a love-hate relationship with cities and touristy places as they are usually far too overcrowded and costly. Still, they offer the luxury of a convenient tourist infrastructure, whether internet, laundry services or pizzas.

I loaded my photos on CD and bought a few small gifts for my nieces and nephews, which Rossouw and Dawn kindly took to South Africa.

I replaced the iPod's earphones, caught in the spokes, fiddling while cycling. Then, finally, I bought toothpaste and a hair conditioner and, following all the shopping, had to return to the ATM.

It rained much of the 2nd day, leaving Rossouw and Dawn to return to their resort during a rain torrent. The rest of the day was spent updating blogs and handing in laundry. Unfortunately, doing laundry was no good as the clothes never dried.

I further located a sim card, to great delight of my family. Still, I could only send but not receive SMSs.

 

9 May - Patong Beach – Thai Muang – 100 km

Our late departure was due to waiting for the return of our laundry. Once all was packed, we followed the west coast in a northerly direction. The plan was to head to Ranong where one could do visa runs to Myanmar (Burma). So we ambled along, past small beachy villages all still struggling to recover from the 2004 tsunami.

Arriving at Tha Muang and keeping an eye out for accommodation a small, obscure sign pointed to a lodge. A gravel path ran behind trees to remote bungalows. We soon discovered the need for privacy as the establishment rented rooms by the hour. Chalets thus came with an ample supply of condoms and toothbrushes, as well as walls adorned by appropriate pictures (no heart-shaped bed though).

 

10 May - Thai Muang – Riverside Bungalows (Khao Lak) – 52 km

The ride to Khao Lak was littered with scenic beaches, but the lack of budget lodging made returning to the main road. Due to the 2004 Tsunami, the well-known basic beach bungalows were all gone and new, fancy hotels were constructed along the seashore. Slightly further a sign pointed to Riverside Bungalows and camping. This was a great place with lush green gardens, gazebos and a great pool. We pitched our tents and lazed around the pool the rest of the day. At sunset, we were eaten alive by mosquitoes and hurriedly retreated to the tents. By then, I wasn't just covered in mosquito bites and a heat rash but suffered from a chronic upset stomach.

 

11 May - Khao Lak – Khuraburi – 83 km

Thailand is a cycle touring paradise. The main roads are good, have spacious shoulders for cycling, and the coast is peppered with gorgeous beaches. As we continued north, we biked through densely wooded areas. Although sweltering and humid, the area remained an absolute pleasure. Average temperatures were a minimum of 24C at night rising to between 36–40 during the day with a humidity factor of 75%.

Khuraburi had riverside huts upon stilts. The setting (right over the riverbank) was good and the price reasonable, and we parked our bikes, never haggling about the price.

I even managed to find a wi-fi connection in one corner of the deck and after folding myself into a pretzel, managed to send a few e-mails. The easiest and cheapest meal was instant noodles with added vegetables, something we ate nearly every day.

 

12 May - Khuraburi – Hat Bang Ben (Laem Son National Park) – 83 km

The stretch north of Khuraburi made a great day on the bike. Most of the coast in that country was covered in mangrove swamps. We rode up and down hills and through densely wooded areas until the turnoff to Laem Son National Park, situated 10 km off the highway.

Hat Bang Ben was located along a sandy beach sporting views of several nearby islands. We found lodging near the beach and swam before cooking our usual noodles.

 

13 May - Hat Bang Ben – Ranong – 60 km

A pleasant amble took us into Ranong, and the Kiwi Orchard Guest House. The guesthouse was a real backpacker's joint featuring a restaurant, bar, boat and bus booking facilities. The reason for staying there was their visa-run service to Burma, which we organised for the coming morning.

 

14 May - Ranong (Visa run to Myanmar)

The visa run involved taking a boat to Myanmar to renew our Thailand visas. Boats frequently scooted across the gulf to the border town of Kaw Thoung. Departing Thailand to Burma, our long-tailed boat didn't sound all too healthy but eventually got away in a cloud of smoke. Once there, $10 bought you a Burmese visa as well as a stamp in and out of Burma. I was livid to find they granted a two-week stay (not a day pass as assumed). If we knew, I sure would've arranged a more extended visit.

Upon returning, we weren't as fortunate as earlier. Our boat's engine exploded with a thunderous bang, leaving us drenched in black oil and adrift in the ocean. Mercifully, the crossing was a busy one and soon, help arrived. A similar boat hooked us up and towed us towards our destination, but halfway gave up and handed us over to another boat which took us the final stretch. Unfortunately, the new boat didn't sound all healthy either. It burped and splattered but eventually got us to the pier from where we'd departed a couple of hours earlier.

Upon closer inspection, and to our horror, we discovered the new visa merely allowed a two-week stay and not a month as foreseen. This meant we'd to peddle like the clappers to get out of Thailand in time.

 

15 May - Ranong – Kra Buri – 60 km

We passed waterfalls, rivers, and beautiful forested areas to Kra Buri. Comfortable looking A-frame huts lured us in and as the weather looked threatening, we stayed put.

Under the trees in cages, were small, pied songbirds with red cheeks which seemed a popular part of Thai culture, particularly in that region. I always had a great urge to set caged birds free; still, their song brought about a wonderfully peaceful and relaxed atmosphere. Moreover, their melodious singing made it easy to understand why practically all households had these birds. Add the many dogs and cats who seem to co-exist surprisingly peacefully, gave the impression of living on a vast farm.

 

16 May - Kra Buri – Chumphon – 68 km

Our route ran east over the hills towards Chumphon, to the Gulf of Thailand. Again, a pleasant day's cycling as the weather was cloudy but without any rain. We bunked down at the Farang Bar in Chumphon, our previous accommodation.

The constant heat caused Ernest and me to develop a heat rash - prickly heat. It's pretty standard in the tropics, and easily treated with a powder or calamine lotion. So not simply were we covered in mosquito bites but also in an unsightly rash by then.

 

17 May - Chumphon – Bang Saphan (Lola Bungalows) – 114 km

We emerged to a drizzle, a drizzle that continued throughout the day. Fortunately, the temperature remained in the high twenties and cycling in the rain can be quite a pleasant experience.

Still, reaching Bang Saphan and Lola Bungalows where we could wash the day's drizzled fuelled grime off, was a relief. Lola had such a great setting, right along the shore; staying the night came easily. We once more cooked instant noodles and it needs mentioning, I was slowly (or maybe not so slowly) becoming tired of instant noodles.

 

18 May - Bang Saphan – Prachuap Khiri Khan – 100 km

From Bang Saphan, we didn't take the coastal road (which I preferred) but the highway, which made soul-destroying riding to Prachuap. Once in Prachuap, we chose our previous ramshackle digs as Ernest was a man of habit. Unfortunately, it wasn't the best place to shelter in rainy weather, as I could see the sky through the roof. The floor wasn't all level either, and even on the toilet one had to secure both feet firmly upon the ground not to slide off.

 

19 May - Prachuap Kiri Khan – Cha-Am – 132 km

With limited time on our visas and seeing we've cycled this stretch a few weeks earlier we got onto the highway, a dreadfully monotonous ride. Convincing Ernest to get off the highway and onto more minor roads was a constant battle that tired me emotionally. Once in Cha-Am, we opted for a two-day stay to sort out my finances via the internet. Ernest had no money, or so he claimed, and I was fast heading that way myself. Therefore, I needed to devise a plan to keep us afloat.

 

21 May - Cha-Am – Samut Sakhon – 129 km

With my finances sorted we resumed our ride along the coastal route to Cambodia, still a few days cycling away. A mild tailwind pushed us onto Samut Sakon. Roadside accommodation at a budget price offered air-con, TV and a bathtub, something not seen in years.

Ernest cooked pasta, which he'd been carrying in his panniers. It's incredible what all came out of those panniers. Still, I considered walking to one of the nearby mobile food carts more convenient.

 

22 May - Samut Sakhon – Chachoengsao – 110 km

From Samut Sakhon to Chachoengsao was, and always will be, a dreadful traffic-laden ride through southern Bangkok, a slow stop–start process. The first sixty kilometres came with horrendous traffic through a densely populated area. Then, mercifully, it cleared and proceeded through a more rural area adorned by endless shrines and temples. Our rural road followed a canal lined by wooden houses upon stilts, where villagers lived from fishing. I thought it remarkable any fish remained in those rivers, as all kinds of fishing methods were employed from Chinese nets to wicker baskets. The teeny fish caught were dried in the sun on large bamboo tables. I felt hot, tired, hungry, and thirsty and we stopped at a petrol station to take a breather. Petrol stations were abundant and in general sported 7-Eleven shops and clean toilets. The weather looked threatening, and we located a bed in a brand-new hotel next door. I was convinced we were the first farang guests as we appeared a great source of interest.

 

23 May - Chachoengsae - Sa Khao – 139 km

Tailwind assisted, we peddled towards the border. Good time was made as we were trying to out-cycle threatening looking clouds. Finally, Sa Khao was reached without encountering thunderstorms, even though Ernest had a flat tire. At a reasonable price, a bungalow at the far end of town was our digs that night. Unfortunately, no sooner had we offloaded the bikes than the rain came pelting down as it can only do in the tropics.

 

24-25 May - Sa Khao – Aranyaprathet – 58 km

A short and hot ride led us into Aranyaprathet, the border town between Thailand and Cambodia. An excellent spot to do laundry before proceeding and we hence stayed an additional night. The Market Hotel was a well-geared backpackers joint, and featured a restaurant, air-con, swimming pool and bar, and outdoor ground-floor rooms, a good choice for cyclists. We woke to rain gushing down and stayed put.

Aranyaprathet had two bike shops, I replaced my much-worn gloves, and Ernest bought two new tyres, thanks to a donation from his sister Olga. He probably would've also purchased two spare rims if he had enough money.

 

26 May – Aranyaprathet, Thailand – Sisophon, Cambodia – 56 km

Cambodia conjured up images of famine and mass killings. I was eager to see what the country would hold – hopefully, none of the above. So, following a relaxed start, we cycled to the border via the border market. The market was a massive area with a warren of stalls selling everything imaginable. Most goods came from Cambodia in a steady stream through the border post, pushed or pulled on numerous heavily loaded hand-drawn carts.

Obtaining a visa involved filling in a form, providing a photo, and visiting the "swine flu" checkpoint to have our ears probed, and our temperatures recorded.

Once in Cambodia, one could tell you were out of well-organised Thailand and in a slightly more chaotic Cambodia. The chaos was made even more so by Cambodians driving on the right and trafficked weaved randomly between the lanes.

The Cambodians seemed friendly enough as greetings "suostei" could be heard from behind banana trees as we pedalled past.

Arriving at Sisophon, our first town, we settled for digs to sass out our new environment, change money, and find a new sim card. A rickety hut on stilts came at $2 – considered a bargain even though one could see through the floorboards. In general, things appeared somewhat cheaper than in Thailand. The Cambodian Riel came at 4160 riels to a US dollar and bankcards got you dollars at the ATM (which could then be changed to Riel). The markets quoted products in Thai Bhat, dollars and Riels.

Strangely enough in Cambodia, like in Thailand, all drinks came with a straw, even a can of beer.