CYCLE TOURING THAILAND (10)

 

Thailand (10)

1779 Km – 58 Days

20 June – 18 August 2017

MAP

PHOTOS

 June 20 – Poi Pet, Cambodia – Sa Kaeo, Thailand – 85 km

A short cycle led from the dusty border town of Poi Pet to the Cambodia/Thai immigration. The border was chaotic, with cross-border traders pushing and pulling produce-laden carts. Foot passengers formed long queues and motorised traffic weaved randomly, switching from right-hand drive to left-hand drive. But, on a bicycle, I could zig-zag through the horrendous traffic to where I was waved to the front of the queue. Yay!

Once across the border, I sought out a cash machine, but this time didn’t use my South African bank account, but my Thai bank card and drew money paid in by the tenant. It made me giggle.

The day turned out exactly what I loved about cycle touring as I’d no plan or destination. A limestone pinnacle loomed ahead, and it seemed an excellent place to explore as it was bound to have a temple and a cave. My early arrival gave ample time to climb the steep staircase to a gap in the mountain which offered scenic views of the countryside. I even received a blessing from a monk midway up.

The area would’ve made perfect camping, wasn’t it for the many monkeys who were sure to trash the tent.

The nearby town of Sa Kaeo looked a viable option, and I meandered in that direction. Sa Kaeo didn’t offer a considerable amount in the line of attractions; still, it was the provincial capital. Like every provincial capital, it sported a Big C supermarket and KFC. Regrettably, finding accommodation was more difficult than anticipated as nearly all signs were in Thai script.

The plan was to make my way in the direction of Jomtien, as the tenant renting the condo purchased was moving out. Although sorry the tenant was relocating, I was super keen to see what I’d bought.

 

21 June – Sa Kaeo – Ban Plaeng Yao - 110 km

The following day’s ride became relatively uneventful (it’s not often that happens). My decision to follow the main road made it uninteresting riding. Still, I came upon two Chinese cyclists having a nap at a bus shelter. We tried to make conversation, but I’d no command of Mandarin. The reason I seldom encountered other cyclists was primarily due to me barely ever using main roads. Afterwards, my path veered onto a smaller track, which featured a few temples and opportunities to sample unusual fruit. Sometimes the dullest looking fruit turns out the tastiest.

The route continued until Ban Plaeng Yao, which sported The Rich Inn. I wouldn’t have guessed the place even had a name, let alone accommodation. It turned out a charming room, providing air-con, a fridge and even hot water in the shower. Unfortunately, the Rich Inn was off the road, without any nearby facilities and thus nothing to do but laundry.

 

22 June - Ban Plaeng Yao – Jomtien – 123 km

Luck was on my side, and I located rural paths leading through tiny settlements. Older men guarded their single cow while others sat under shady trees fanning themselves with hats watching women weed rice paddies. A wave of gratitude washed over me, cycling past the ever-present ornate temples and ladies selling simple snacks. To have the luxury of no destination and time on my hands was one of my greatest privileges.

I bought a flower garland from a vendor at 10 Thai baht. “It’s for good luck,” they said. So, garland dangling from my handlebar bag, I pushed on past humble homes sporting ornate birdcages on front porches.

My path zig-zagged through the countryside, eventually ending up in Pattaya, where I headed straight to the Property Agent’s office to collect the key. I felt genuine excitement unlocking the first home I’d in 10 years. A place where one could leave stuff and even hang clothes. Even though it needed improvement, all could be done later. It was never meant to be a real home but an emergency bunker when push came to shove. The plan was to fix the necessary ahead of my departure to China on July 22. In the meantime, the plan was to play in my tiny bunker.

 

June 23 – July 31 - Jomtien

I scrubbed and cleaned. No one will believe me if I say the tenant moved out, taking merely her handbag and clothes. She must’ve been a hoarder of sorts, as I threw out no less than seven large garbage bags of stuff. It needs mentioning it was a tiny room. Primarily empty containers, including six empty lip balm holders, several empty lipstick holders, numerous plastic bags containing old receipts, piles of empty shoeboxes and more. Phew, what demanding work housework is. I was completely pooped and more tired than following a day of riding.

The next day my back was off, and my legs ached in places I didn’t know I’d muscles. I bought new bedding and towels. I’m not the cleanest of persons, but at least it’s my dirt.

A visit to Tesco Lotus provided new cutlery and crockery, no more than two of a kind apart from the wine glasses, as one should never only have two wine glasses. However, small things amuse small minds!

I’d an absolute ball. I even sported a file holding personal stuff. But, unfortunately, there wasn’t a significant amount in the file, merely the legal documents from the apartment and my Thai Bank account.

What fun to go to the shop and buy coffee and not care if in a glass container. Purchasing cleaning materials wasn’t something I’ve done in the past ten years. The biggest novelty of all was going to the bookstore. I usually read books online but holding a paper book in my hand and laying on the bed reading till my eyes fell shut was pure pleasure.

I sat on the balcony, grinning from ear to ear, noisily swirling the ice in my wine glass. I’ve already overspent my budget, and if I wanted to continue travelling, I needed to pull in the reins and lay low a while. Still, I bought a sleeper sofa, deemed essential for a small apartment.

Pattaya is a sex-tourism destination and has a slightly sleazy feel to it. The town is well known for its “walking street”, go-go bars and massage parlours. Virtually all its 10 million annual visitors are older men on the prowl for young girls. It’s nothing new and has been happening since the ‘60s when American GIs were sent to Pattaya for a bit of R&R. It’s therefore not unusual to see drunk men hanging onto bar counters at 10 in the morning - Thai girls by their side.

As you can imagine, Pattaya isn’t where people go to make friends. The condo bought was due to its cheap price tag and would give me a place to stay whenever needed (something which stood me in good stead years later). I was sure the people believed me somewhat weird (to say the least) as, by the time they were crossed-eyed and slack-jawed, I set out on my daily jog. The lifestyle in Pattaya is slightly depressing and immoral, and I couldn’t wait to get going.

I used my time to explore the area and cycled to the viewpoint on the hunt for a picture of Pattaya Bay at sunset. Sadly, the evening revealed no colour, but I saw a storm roll in and hurried to the bike. Peddling like the clappers, I made it just as the first drops started falling.

 

August 1 - Pattaya – Prok Fa - 102 km

Time to lock up and go exploring. Albeit the initial plan was to sit it out for two months to save money, I’d no patience and had done almost everything Pattaya offered. The running kept me occupied, but it wasn’t enough, and the novelty of staying in the same place soon wore off.

Mobile home packed, I pedalled out of Sodom and Gomorrah without as much as a glance in my rear-view mirror. Soon, I was in the countryside and far away from sleazy Sin City. The greatest joy was not having a plan or even an idea of where I was going. Instead, I marvelled at ornate temples and vast coconut palm plantations. I swore loudly to myself, landing on a sandy track past pineapple plantations. The area was clearly seldom-visited, and I received loads of thumbs-ups and surprised looks. A mild tailwind made an already good day even more enjoyable.

A temple, way up on a hill, looked worthwhile exploring and as I was the lone person there, the monks handed me the key to the shrine/temple. More stairs than anticipated led to the top, which featured lovely vistas. I thought it pretty exciting being the sole one and unlocking the building to peep inside to see dimly lit Buddha statues. A few pictures later, I locked the building and returned to the bicycle. Shortly past 4 p.m., I came across a tiny village revealing a significant market. I bought food, and on rounding the corner, spotted a sign to accommodation. I succumbed to temptation and followed a dirt track to said accommodation. The place was inexpensive but basic. Still, it was good enough for me.

 

August 2 - Phrok fa – Khlong Hat – 111 km

Packing was at leisure, and by the time I started hooking the panniers onto the bike, the owner was already hanging out the sheets from the previous night’s occupants. Still, he was generous and offered me coffee and a bunch of bananas. My chosen path veered in an easterly direction and along excellent rural roads. The landscape was exceptional as the route ran close to the Cardamom mountains forming the Cambodia border. The way ran past all kinds of farms, from rubber tree plantations to chilli peppers and pineapples. Route 3259 ran through a protected area. Although I kept an eye out for elephants, I didn’t spot any; however, elephant dung indicated they were indeed in the area.

The sweltering weather required numerous water stops and was quite entertaining. Thais appeared obliged to offer you something to eat. As a result, I tasted various Thai delicacies. At Khlong Hat, permission was granted to pitch my tent at the police station. The staff was accommodating, offered me food, and pointed out the toilets to wash using a plastic bucket. Later, I was given a delicious sizeable crispy crepe with a sweet filling.

 

August 3 - Khlong Hat – Aranyaprathet - 85 km

The previous day a sign indicated caves four kilometres down the drag. I cycled in the direction shown but could find no sign of caves at the four-kilometre mark. I proceeded until a sign pointed in the direction of nearby hills. The signboard indicated two caves and a viewpoint three kilometres off the road. I discovered the entrance, parked the bike, and walked where an overgrown path took me up the mountain. The trail was scarcely visible, leaving me to think not many ventured there. Only a few overgrown Buddha statues and faded flags indicated I was on the right track. Eventually, I reached what I presumed the top to discover the trail continued up the next hill. I was clearly on my way to the viewpoint but decided to turn around as I’d no water. Once on level ground, I uncovered the caves but didn’t explore as they were pitch dark and needed a torch.

My route continued in Prasat Khao Noi’s direction, ruins of a 6th-century, pre-Angkorian-style Khemar sanctuary. The ride was enjoyable and picturesque. I left my bicycle at a shelter at the base of the hill and ascended the hill on foot. Once at the top, rain came down in true tropical style. Best to return to the bike and wait out the weather before proceeding to nearby Aranyaprathet. The Aran Garden Hotel didn’t have a trace of garden. The green painted floors reminded of a prison, but it had a balcony and was squeaky clean. Finally, after sunset, the mobile food stalls made their appearance, and I ordered noodle soup while waiting for my laundry.

 

4 August - Aranyaprathet- Non Din Daeng – 108 km

Refreshed, I cycled out of Aranyaprathet and was barely out of town until finding the smallest of country lanes. The area offered more than enough bizarre attractions to keep me occupied and I landed up at the ruins of Prasat Sadok Kok Thom, an 11th-century Khmer temple. The temple was dedicated to the Hindu god Shiva. I assumed the ruins were seldom explored as entry was free. The single other person was an older man guarding his water buffalo grazing the grounds of these ancient temples.

My path passed luminous green rice fields, more grazing buffalo, ornate temples, and the tiniest hamlets where the Friday market was in full swing. I could hear whispers of “farang, farang” (foreigner) cycling past.

Non Din Daeng housed another temple ruin, but all ruined out, I opted for digs allowing inspecting the ruins in the morning.

 

5 August - Non Din Daeng – Khao Kradong Forest Park – 111 km

Following breakfast, a short distance led to the ruins of Nong Hong Sanctuary. Again there was no one there except grazing cattle. The temple dates to the 16th Buddhist century, and I took a few pictures before continuing my ride. Next, was Prasat Muang Tam. These ruins were extensive and well preserved and one could only stand in awe of these magnificent buildings, built so many years ago. Prasat Muang Tam is a Khmer temple dating to the 10th and 11th centuries.

I cycled in the direction of Buri Ram, and en route, a truck stopped and the driver hopped out and gave me much needed water and cola. Then, on the outskirts of Buri Ram was the Khao Kradong Forest Park. Not expecting a great deal, I turned in anyhow. The site was surprisingly interesting and offered food carts, walks and even a place to pitch a tent. Luckily, camping was under cover as no sooner was the tent up and it started raining.

 

6 August - Khao Kradong Forest Park – Surin – 50 km

Woken by the crowing of cocks there was no point in staying put. I thus took the tent down and got underway in an easterly direction. I love central Thailand with its fertile plains and ancient history. Ruled by the Khmer Empire, it shaped modern-day Thailand and left many fascinating ruins. The day turned out completely different to what was anticipated. I turned into the small town of Surin, home of the Surin Elephant Round-up, a yearly festival. Surin’s indigenous people started training elephants as working animals when the Ayutthaya Kingdom came into power.

I came upon “My Hotel” opposite the station and called it a day. I’d plenty of catching up to do, and the afternoon was a productive one.

The following day was spent in Surin as it rained the best part of the day, only clearing in the afternoon.

 

August 8 - Surin - Uthumphon Phisai - 125 km

Barely two kilometres out of Surin, I landed on a rural path. The day turned into a marvellous one, as there’s nothing greener than the rice paddies of Isan. My chosen route was cross-country the majority of the day. It merely once did it require backtracking, quite remarkable, really, taking where I wandered.

My first stop was a little silk village outside Surin, and even if nothing was purchased, the process was intriguing. The next stop was Prasat Chom Phra, a Mahayana Buddhist temple that served as a medical station between 1181-1218. The rest of the day was a lovely ride through the countryside. The people were super friendly, waving and giving me the thumbs-up. I was gifted ice-cold water as well as fruit, and towards the end of the day, a nice chap stopped and gave me a bun with a sweet filling—just the thing needed to see me through the last few kilometres.

Road signs pointed towards an additional set of ruins 10 kilometres further, but 13 kilometres later, there was still nothing. By then, I’d lost my enthusiasm. Instead, I popped into a Tesco Lotus, bought enough food to feed an army, and settled for the first available digs.

 

August 9 - Uthumphon Phisai – Phibun – 130 km

On this day, nothing tickled my fancy, and I cycled the 130 kilometres to Phibun. But, sadly, the way to Phibun was primarily via the highway and, therefore, not overly exciting.

 

10 August – Phibun – Pha Taem National Park – 65 km

In sharp contrast to the previous day, this day turned out pretty extraordinary. The time was past 9 o’clock before cycling out of Phibun. My path followed the Mun River until it flowed into the Pak Mun Dam. Recent floods filled the dam to near-breaking point, and all sluice gates were wide open. At first, the plan was to cycle through the national park but realised I must’ve given somewone a thousand-baht note instead of a hundred.

I hence had no choice but to head to nearby Khong Chiam to find an ATM. Khong Chiam offered oodles of accommodation, beautiful temples and a lovely riverside setting. My first stop was at the Two-Colour River Viewpoint, and, yes, the river did indeed have two colours. Khong Chiam was located on the banks of the Mekong River, with Laos on the opposite bank. Still, I stayed as close to the river as possible and soon found myself on a small dirt road, which came to an abrupt halt at a river. I noticed a boat but no boatman. Like in a dream, the boat started floating across the river. What the heck? Only then did I see the boat was tied to a cable and pulled across by whoever needed it. I waited for it to reach my side and loaded the bicycle and panniers. A chap watching from afar stopped what he was doing to help me across the river. He must’ve thought a farang couldn’t do such a thing. Still, I was grateful for his help, gave him a small donation, and set off along a rutted and narrow dirt track. The route passed a simple Meditation Centre, and if ever I wanted to spend time at such a place, I’d return to this one. It appeared the real deal and offered few modern facilities.

Not significantly farther, a turn-off led to Pha Taem National Park. A short cycle brought me to PK Riverside Resort, where one could camp on the banks of the Mekong under a canopy. Not free, but worth the 100 TB. I pitched the tent and watched the river flow past en route from Tibet to the South China Sea.

 

11 August - Pha Taem National Park – Khemmarat - 117 km

Having coffee, watching boats moving upriver, I imagined I could sit there all day but folded up the tent, loaded panniers and cycled up the hill. The remainder of the day turned out a wee bit undulating, to say the least. The hills weren’t steep or long but lasted all day. Albeit all hunky-dory in the morning, it wasn’t all fun towards the end of the day, and I cursed while slowly making my way up the last few hills.

The route veered inland, and although not flush next to the river, it remained a stunning ride. The way north ran through a National Park and thus lush and green. The area seemed seldom visited as I hardly encountered any traffic. Nevertheless, the park offered exciting sites: unusual pillar-like rock formations and huge stones on a small base. Not much beyond that was what is known as the 3000 Stones. Khemmarat, a surprisingly substantial town, marked the end of the day’s ride. Hungry, I rushed to the food stalls and then searched for either a place to pitch a tent or a room. I found the room first and was happy to settle in an air-con abode.

 

12 August - Khemmarat – Mukdahan – 85 km

Of course, there are days one can cycle endlessly, but there are also days I can scarcely get going. This day was the latter, and I’d to work hard up the slight inclines. These are not my favourite days, and dead-tired I crawled into Mukdahan, booked into a room, ate, and flopped onto the bed.

 

13 August - Mukdahan - Sakhon Nakhon - 122 km

Feeling energised, I opted for Savannakhet on the Lao side of the Mekong River instead of heading north on the Thailand side of the river. However, once at immigration, I was told one couldn’t cross the Friendship bridge by bicycle (not an especially friendly bridge after all). I, therefore, resumed my ride on the Thailand side.

It became an excellent day of vastly varied routes and vistas. Veering off the main road, I landed on a dirt track amongst rubber plantations. Awesome stuff. In true Thai style, villagers looked up in surprise and called for me to share their food. Afterwards, I pressed onto Sakhon Nakhon, as I needed to get to Vientiane, Laos, to renew my Thai visa before Tania’s arrival. Regrettably, she contacted me to say she couldn’t make it. Though sorry to hear this, things didn’t always work out as planned. I was starving and was happy to find a night market directly behind the hotel. I was famished. I bought two meals but could hardly finish one, let alone two.

 

14 August - Sakhon Nakhon - Sawang Daen Din – 90 km

Since Tania wasn’t coming to Thailand any longer, my plans have changed considerably. I didn’t have to extend my Thai visa and could thus visit China as planned. Yay! I needed to get to China before September 5 and roughly 200 kilometres remain to the Thai/Laos border.

The North-eastern part of the country received a tremendous amount of rain during the previous two weeks and whole towns were flooded. There were concerns about dam walls breaking. Although I escaped practically all the rain, the rivers crossed were in full flood. Villagers used this opportunity to fish and used all possible means.

The weather was sweltering and the rest areas at police stations came in handy. I followed farm tracks nearly all day, only reaching the main road at the small village of Sawang Daen Din. If wanting to go to Laos, this was where I’d turn off to cut a straight line through the countryside. Not having made up my mind which direction to go, I settled for a room in the village. At 250 Thai Baht, the room was somewhat bare-bones but provided air-con. The remainder of the evening was spent eating.

 

15 August - Sawang Daen Din – Nong Khai – 125 km

I’d worked late the previous night, and I was slow to emerge. Recent floods washed away countless country lanes and workers were frantically busy repairing the damage. The floods were a disaster for some, but the bright green paddies fields made a spectacular sight. Sadly, several areas were still underwater. Unfortunately, the rain wasn’t over, as I could see dark clouds moving in from the north.

My path took me through tiny settlements where villagers were siesta-ing in their hammocks. Farmers used the tarmac to dry colourfully dyed grasses for weaving sleeping mats. It’s incredible how people can sleep simply using a grass mat between them and the floor.

Eventually, I landed on a gravel track through the plantations and was a tad peed off getting a flat tyre. Nevertheless, my dirt trail proceeded, past people, doing their daily chores, farmers making charcoal, fishing or selling food and snacks. Older ladies were attending cattle or foraging—a fascinating glimpse into the life of the average farmer in Thailand.

The threatening weather made me push on to Nong Khai, situated upon the banks of the Mekong River. The town was next to the Friendship Bridge and immigration checkpoint to Vientiane, Laos. Slinking into Mut Mee Guesthouse was in the nick of time, as no sooner was I in a room and rain came gushing down. Mut Mee is an outstanding guesthouse providing a great selection of rooms. I opted for the most inexpensive one at 200 TB and, albeit basic, was a super clean room in stark comparison to the previous night.

 

August 16– Nong Khai, Thailand – Vientiane, Laos – 35 km

Tania contacted me to say she’d changed her mind, and we arranged to meet in Bangkok on September 1. Sadly, it meant I wasn’t going to China after all. Marguerite Marais confirmed she’d bought her ticket and would land in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, on December 4. I’d work to do, and long past 3h00 before turning in. I was relatively slow in packing but eventually cycled the short distance to the Thai/Lao border, bought my visa, and cycled into the most relaxed capital in the world.

The first stop was at the money changer and the phone shop. Then, with a wallet full of Lao Kip ($1 – 8300 LAK) and a new SIM card in my phone, I proceeded into town. Starving, the familiar sight of the Laos Baguette (Khao Jee) vendor was a welcome sight. The baguette is filled with lettuce, sliced tomatoes, carrot, onion, moo (pork), chopped ham, and topped with a chilli sauce. Next up was the Thai consulate, but as expected, they were already closed, and my visa application had to wait until the morning.

CYCLE TOURING CAMBODIA (4)

 

Cambodia (4)

902 Km – 30 Days

21 May – 20 June 2017

MAP
PHOTOS

20 May - Trat, Thailand – Koh Kong, Cambodia - 106 km

My unhurried departure was due to pouring rain. At the first break in the weather, I was out of Trat to cycle the short distance to the Thailand/Cambodian border.

The section between Trat and the border was particularly scenic, featuring mountains to the one side and the coast to the other and made enjoyable riding. Unfortunately, it was too wet to do anything but cycle, and best to push on.

The border crossing came with the usual exit and entrance stamps. Afterwards, a short ride took me into Cambodia and onto Koh Kong, the first Cambodian town along the opposite side of the Koh Poi River.

In Koh Kong, an inexpensive room gave me a bed and shower. Then, dressed in dry clothes, I searched for a Cambodian SIM card and food. Both sounded more straightforward in writing than what it turned out in a country where not much English was spoken. Mercifully, restaurants generally offered pictures from which to order as I was hungry and in no mood to flap my arms while cackling like a chicken or snorting like a pig.

 

21 May – Koh Kong

An additional day was spent in Koh Kong to catch up on outstanding matters. The day turned out a relaxing one and little got done apart from laundry and updating blog posts and photos.

 

22 May – Koh Kong – Botum Sakor – 103 km

Shortly after pedalling out of Koh Kong, the road climbed out of the river valley and over the Cardamom Mountains. I wheezed my way up the mountain in sweltering weather while sweat poured out my body and into my sandals, making my feet slip right out. Still, a slow and steady pace eventually brought me to the first high point.

Dark clouds gathered and soon rain came gushing down. The pouring rain made a dangerous descent as it rained so hard one could barely see. Nonetheless, I donned my raincoat, and plastic coat flapping in the wind sped downhill at breakneck speed, praying not to hit a pothole or an oil patch. But, unfortunately, maintenance must’ve taken place recently, and the loose gravel by then worked its way to the side, an accident waiting to happen. It was thus not surprising to see a taxi in a ditch, making me even more determined to avoid the gravel at all cost.

The day was marred by crawling uphill, speeding downhill, across rivers, only to repeat the process. The area was sparsely populated and offered little in the line of facilities except a few stalls to fill water bottles.

Towards the end of the day, one more hill remained as the path wound its way up the mountain. Soon the tell-tale tower, typically marking the highpoint, appeared, and one could see the valley far below. In Botum Sakor, an inexpensive room and food allowed parking off until morning.

 

23 May - Botum Sakor – Otres – 135 km

The ride to Otres was considerably more manageable, even though not completely flat. It drizzled throughout the day, a blessing in disguise as it kept me nice and cool. I felt strangely at home cycling past the familiar humble wooden houses on stilts, grazing buffalo, skinny cows, and pyjama-clad women on cycles peddling their wares.

Reaching Route 4, the main road between Phnom Penh and Sihanoukville, the ride became a complete nightmare. The way was narrow and busy, leaving barely any space to cycle. Best to ride along the nomansland adjacent to the tarmac, a muddy mess by then. It made slow going and challenging cycling. Slinking into Otres, the bike, panniers, and I was covered in mud.

Shelly, whom I’d met in Bangkok, invited me to stay at her place in Otres, and I was humbled to find a massive plate of curry and rice waiting.

The following day was spent kicking back and meeting up with Rad, whom I met in Hanoi the previous year. It’s indeed a small world. Shelly had lived in Otres for four years and knew practically everyone. Her house was a bohemian and social place where there was a constant coming and going of friends. A few beers were consumed and none of the things planned got done.

Otres Village was one-of-a-kind and a place where Westerners who’d given up conforming came to live. It was indeed the home of the stray cats, and this was where they came to live and play. It made a fascinating mix of people from all over the world with genuinely out-of-the-box ideas and thoughts. I loved every one of them for who they were and what they stood for. Otres resembled the Wild West of Southeast Asia as there appeared no building code or health inspectors. Drugs were semi-legal, and there appeared no rules of any sort. The electricity was iffy, and the water pressure non-existent. Instead, it seemed a hippie-haven where people party throughout the night, cook what they pleased, and build whatever they dreamt up—all making a community where several travellers come for a day or two but stay a year or three.

Monsoon season in Otres was a muddy mess as the village had few paved streets. For most, life went past in a psychedelic haze as they moved from the jungle parties to Neverland. This super relaxed hostel was where people hung out, but not a place to stay unless you partied through the night.

My laundry was handed in, but nothing happened fast in Otres, and although told it would be ready in the morning, there was no laundry in sight. Fortunately, the relaxed life in Otres made hanging around, going with the flow effortless.

 

28 May - Otres – Kampot – 100km

I waited until the rain subsided, said goodbye to the lovely people of Otres and proceeded in the direction of Kampot, said the home of the world’s best pepper. Monsoon season and roadworks don’t make good cycle touring. There was no real reason to stop apart from snapping a few pictures crossing rivers and houses on stilts. It remained very much life on the river in Cambodia, both for transport and fishing.

Of course, I’d to buy one of Cambodia’s legendary snacks, the Nompang (baguette), filled with all kinds of unusual ingredients. I found myself a pleasant spot and watched people planting rice while eating half my Nompang, saving the other half for when my ride was done. Kampot, Uptown Guesthouse, sporting ground floor rooms, a bathroom and mosquito nets at a bargain price.

 

29 May - Kampot

Kampot is a lovely place, sporting decaying old French colonial buildings as well as a great riverside setting. The fascinating old traditional market was jampacked with traders, but the heat was debilitating. As a result, Kampot is a strange and contrasting place. “Happy Pizza” joints and French-style coffee shops lined the streets, while Cambodian ladies traded from mobile carts.

The French baguette, or Nompang, is stuffed with spicy sliced pork, pate, pickled carrots, papaya, coriander, and cucumber. At times, it’s consumed topped with condensed milk. I prefer the spicy version, but why not bread and condensed milk if one can eat a chocolate-filled doughnut?

You often see words misspelt because the Latin alphabet means as little to the Cambodians as the Abugida script means to me. Eventually, I ended up at my abode, hopped on the bike and rode out to inspect a few nearby caves. The ride was more interesting than the caves. I passed ladies on bikes, returning home from selling their wares at the morning market. They were jovial and friendly, laughing and talking. What a difference from the Western world where stoic-faced people sat in morning traffic. Equally cheerful men on motorbikes were on their way to the market, squealing pigs tied on the back. School kids on bicycles ambled along, and small kids called, “Hello farang!” from their stilted homes.

 

30 May - Kampot - Guesthouse – 110 km

From Kampot, my chosen route led north in the direction of Phnom Penh. The sky was a gorgeous blue, rice paddies were filled to the brim after the monsoon rains; water buffalo waddled in ponds and cows grazed on the nomansland next to the road—all in all, a perfect day. I’m sure this’s what people refer to when they say, “I was in my happy place”. Markets sold exciting items, and dirt tracks veered off to mysterious destinations.

The way led past friendly monks doing their food rounds, welcoming ladies selling watermelons and colourful temples. Kids, returning home from school, nervously clung to each other, seeing a stranger on a bicycle heading their way. Meat vendors laughingly pointed out buffalo penis. Gosh, they indeed eat the entire animal!

A strong wind picked up, dark clouds gathered, and big raindrops started falling, making a quick escape into the first available guesthouse. They must’ve seen me coming as I was charged a tad more than the place was worth. Nevertheless, they prepared a lovely Cambodian meal (rice, stir-fried pork and ginger, topped with a fried egg and fiery chillies).

 

31 May-14 June - Guesthouse – Phnom Penh – 40 km

A short but busy ride took me to Phnom Penh. It’s never easy getting in or out of Phnom Penh. The going was dreadfully slow and the traffic horrendous. Still, it remained amazing what all one can hook onto a motorcycle and equally astonishing what a bicycle can handle.

I slowly weaved through the traffic and onto the old traditional backpacker’s “Boeng Kak” area. Unfortunately, the lake which made the site popular was sold and then filled in, causing the area’s demise. Still, one or two super budget places remained. I loved the back streets, street art and weird and lovely “long-termers”. Grand View Guesthouse, without the grand view, was my abode of choice. Nevertheless, the room rate was super cheap at $5 a night. It didn’t take long to meet a bunch of lovely people, and the 15 people around the table were from 13 different countries!

The next day, I handed in my Panasonic Lumix camera to be repaired. I further applied for a Chinese visa, seeing the camera would take a few days.

Cambodian elections were coming up and I was astounded at the amount of money spent on elections. The Cambodian People’s Party (the ruling party) appeared well supported even in the face of widespread corruption. Although hundreds and thousands of people took to the streets to show their support for their respective parties, the ordinary man in the street still pushed his cart along, hoping to sell enough to feed a family. It’s a fascinating country where a large part of the population lived in squalor. At the same time, the Cambodian Mafia drove Rolls Royce’s.

Eventually, everything was done, from fixing the camera to receiving the Chinese Visa and a 3-month Thai Visa. But, unfortunately, the Thai Visa wasn’t as easy in Phnom Penh as it used to be. Once a person had more than three Thailand stamps in the passport, you were required to visit the Embassy in person, showing an application form, a flight ticket out of the country, as well as bank statements.

 

15 June - Phnom Penh – Kampong Chhnang – 97 km

I said my goodbyes to the lovely people of Grand View Guest House and all the people I met there.

When returning home after a holiday, generally people remark, “There’s no place like home”. I feel the same about getting on the bike after a long layoff. There’s no place like the open road! So pleasant was it there was practically no photo stops. My only stops were at coconut and sugarcane juice vendors. Still, I marvelled at the interesting goods for sale at markets and watched farmers bathe their cattle in rivers. I smiled at the familiar “Hellos” from kids and waved at surprised old ladies as I cycled past. In Kampong Chhnang, Ly Hour Guest House made easy overnighting.

 

16 June - Kampong Chhnang – Pursat – 96 km

The previous day’s euphoria disappeared somewhere along the bumpy road, a road that left me slightly irritated. Nevertheless, the day wasn’t all bad, even though blistering hot. En route, my path passed the Andoung Russey pottery factory. The way thus crammed with heavily laden carts taking the produce to the market. Rice farmers welcomed the recent rains, and the rice was a brilliant green. However, for the most part, rice was in nursery beds awaiting replanting.

En route, people sold fermented veggies, and artists made Buddha statues. The way was busy and narrow, and a significant part of the ride was on the dirt section next to the road. Rolling into Pursat was thus a relief, although the wobbly ceiling fan did little to cool me. At least I could see the sunset over another day in Cambodia.

 

17 June - Pursat – Battambang – 107 km

Each day I was astounded at the things witnessed. Of course, people worldwide do things in totally different ways, and we all make do with what’s available. We eat what’s on hand and plant what the soil and the weather allow. Still, it was the different forms of transport that remained fascinating. No matter how much time I spent in Cambodia, the motorbike demanded the most respect.

Cup noodles are not the best supper when cycling, and I soon became hungry. To the amazement of a roadside eatery, a farang stopped and pointed to the soup! Delicious, but each mouthful consumed was watched with great interest. The constant attention made me wonder about the ingredients.

Battambang is a lovely town sporting several old and interesting buildings. It featured a lively market and a peaceful riverside location. I bought a baguette from a lady selling food from a shoulder pole and didn’t question the ingredients as I was hungry. But, there are times when it’s better not to know! Battambang offered plenty of interest, and staying an extra day was easy.

 

19 June – Battambang – Poi Pet – 114 km

The stretch between Battambang and the Thai/Cambodian border wasn’t fascinating, and I considered taking an alternative route.

Before turning off, I came upon a wedding procession and observed a fascinating piece of Cambodian culture. I learned a traditional Khmer wedding is one of the genuinely joyous occasions for a Khmer family and typically lasts from three days to an entire week. It’s a grand affair, full of colour and festivity, as well as steeped in tradition. Musicians play throughout the day using traditional instruments, and the couple dress like royalty. The bride may change her outfit several times a day. Unlike Western weddings, guests are usually highly animated during the ceremonies, and elders typically explain the significance of the various customs to the younger generation. You may stand up and leave the room if you need to stretch your legs. Guests freely move in and out during ceremonies, which isn’t considered rude. In the beginning, the bride customarily waits at her parent’s house while the groom gathers a procession of his family and friends. The procession symbolises the journey of prince Preah Thong to meet his bride, princess Neang Neak two symbolic personas in Khmer culture. The groom’s procession approaches the bride’s home, bearing platters of gifts, usually fruits and Khmer desserts, and is led by a band of musicians and singers. Traditionally, the mai ba (a well-respected member of the bride’s family) comes out to greet the procession. The different fruits and desserts are counted – the more, the better.

After chatting to family members, I continued and discovered the way crowded by the usual weird and wonderful modes of transport. Then, at a coconut juice seller, I met another cyclist. Husan was from Turkey and planned to cycle for a year.

Stalls sold the ever-popular rice cooked in bamboo and sausages (presumed buffalo meat). I snapped the last few pics of Cambodian kids yelling with pleasure before rolling into the border town of Poi Pet. A room at Phnom Pich Guesthouse, right on the main road, made me realise certain things will continue to surprise me no matter how far or wide I travel. I was clearly the only one not using the communal comb and sandals.

 

20 June – Poi Pet, Cambodia – Sa Kaeo, Thailand – 85 km

By morning a short cycle led from the dusty border town of Poi Pet to the Cambodia/Thai immigration. The border was chaotic, with cross-border traders pushing and pulling produce-laden carts. Foot passengers formed long queues while motorised traffic weaved randomly, switching from right-hand drive to left-hand drive. However, being on a bicycle was an absolute pleasure. I zig-zagged my way through the horrendous traffic and was waved to the front of the queue.

CYCLE TOURING THAILAND (9.1) - EN ROUTE TO CAMBODIA

THAILAND (9.1)

521 Kilometres – 43 Days

8 April – 20 May 2017

MAP

PHOTOS

 

8-13 April – Bangkok

Janice grabbed a taxi to the airport, and at a loss at what to do next, I handed in my laundry. Bangkok was steaming, resulting in me doing little apart from said laundry. An elderly lady in a dark and narrow alley operated a few machines under a makeshift shelter. The entire Soi (lane) was crammed with laundry bags except for a tiny space where she, seemingly, slept all day and night. On my return, she hauled out mine from underneath the hundreds of bags. Though given a paper stating the amount and time, it didn’t indicate any name or number. The slip wasn’t required, and you can thus understand my slack-jawed surprise as she handed me my laundry. I’d no idea I was that odd!

The following day the search was on to find more affordable accommodation and, in the process, discovered a room at Sleep Inn. It was dirt cheap, and the price reflected the quality of the rooms. I didn’t complain as it featured a fan, air-con and a window plus “bathroom inside”. Bargain.

Hanging out in Bangkok was to wait for a new jockey wheel to arrive, and it was nice to do absolutely nothing a day or two. Still, I went for my morning jog, which wasn’t as enjoyable as usual. It could’ve been the heat or the fact I didn’t run often enough. In the morning, my hamstrings were so tight they were painful. Stopping in a park to join others doing their stretches brought some relief (not sure what they made of that).

The next day my walk to Chinatown took me through the fish market offering its unusual produce and through the flower market. The building was nice and cool and smelt divine, especially after the fish market. The vegetable market was equally intriguing as there’s inevitably produce I’ve never seen.

Chinatown’s “New Market” wasn’t so new as it had about two decades under its belt but remained a remarkable place that sold practically anything. Sadly, it became one more blistering day, and best to return to my humble abode by river taxi. At least the room was air-conditioned.

By evening, I opted for a massage to see if it would solve my hamstring problem. Although it felt miles better afterwards, the pain soon returned.

Most evenings, I searched out a café where one could’ve a beer and a bite to eat. If the establishment offered (working) Wi-Fi, it was a bonus an excellent place to spend a few hours editing photos and updates. But, unfortunately, I didn’t have the patience to sit long and typically left before all was done.

During the following days, I searched for interesting snippets and came across the Holy Rosary Church. The Portuguese built the church in 1786, four years after the establishment of Bangkok, with a grant from King Rama 1. Sadly, the church was constructed due to a rift in the Santa Cruz Church in Thonburi. It seemed not even churches were immune to in-house fighting.

Songkran, the Thai New Year’s festival held during April, was in full swing. The festival runs for three days and is celebrated with a water festival. The word “Songkran”, I understood, came from the Sanskrit word “sakrānti”, literally “astrological passage”, meaning transformation or change. It coincides with the rising of Aries on the astrological chart and is celebrated in Thailand, Laos, Myanmar, and Cambodia.

The 13^th was a busy day, as Thais traditionally visited temples to bathe Buddha statues. The temples were crammed by devotees pouring fragrant water over rows of Buddha statues, making wishes, and receiving blessings from the monks. Nearly all businesses were closed, as New Year celebrations, or “Rot Nam Dam,” are typically celebrated in family members’ company. In general, people return to their hometowns to spend the day in the company of friends and family.

As mentioned, Songkran is a water festival, and every man and his dog was equipped with a water gun. There was no escaping it, as large water containers were strategically placed for this purpose. The streets were crowded by both Thais and foreigners, shooting, and throwing water; as a result, there wasn’t a dry corner in all of Bangkok.

 

14–28 April – Bangkok - Songkran Festival

A full-scale war occurred in the alleys as all were armed to the teeth with plastic water guns. Both adults and kids were having the time of their lives. It appeared if you give a grownup a water gun, they instantly turn into kids. The best part of Songkran is people are out in the streets, laughing and having fun, and not sitting staring at their phones like zombies. It’s easily the best fun anyone can have.

Once Songkran was over, I ambled to the amulet market, where trade was based around tiny talismans. The amulets are purchased mainly by monks, taxi drivers and anyone who needs good luck. Some are tiny, barely a centimetre or two tall. Vendors claim some were antique and clients peered through magnifying glasses at the pieces. The market sold weird voodoo-like looking figurines and I wondered what they were all about. For apparent reasons, fertility sprung to mind.

My search for a good spot for night photography didn’t pan out. I eventually returned to the Gecko Bar, which had become my nightly hangout. I hooked up with Silvia (from Germany) and Patrick (from India, who lived mainly in England but now in Spain). The Gecko Bar was our unofficial meeting point for breakfast or a beer in the evening. There, we met Jeff, an English chap teaching in Myanmar. I love the diversity of Bangkok.

The days passed quickly, and shortly after Songkran, a message from Bok-Bok Bike stated the jockey wheel had arrived. While they serviced the bike, I scanned the internet for an inexpensive condo to buy but couldn’t find any at the price I’d in mind. Eventually, I noticed one and contacted the agent. The next day I grabbed a bus to Jomtien to meet Benn, an agent from Immobilien Pattaya.

I like the little rabbit hole shown, as it was located close to the beach (one kilometre) and had a lovely pool. The building was an older one but low rise with only five storeys. However, the price mostly drew me to this particular unit. I paid a deposit to secure the sale and held thumbs all would work out.

 

28 April - Bangkok – Bang Saen - 80 km

Time to leave the Big Mango and head south. A task easier said than done. In trying to avoid main roads, I soon found myself amongst dubious-looking food stalls and intriguing shrines. April is a hot and dry month in Thailand, but midway to Bang Saen, the heavens opened. A golf driving range made the perfect shelter, and in the company of a few motorbikes, we waited out the storm. It lasted surprisingly long but eventually could be on our way. I followed the signs to Chonburi and along the coast to Bang Saen Beach, which turned out lovely.

 

29 April - Bang Saen Beach – Jomtien, Pattaya - 56 km

A pleasant ride took me to Pattaya, where I first popped into the Immobilien office. We discussed a few things and I realised it would be a while until all was in place. But, unfortunately, buying property in Thailand can be a legal minefield, and I was much at the mercy of the Immobilien company. This wasn’t a feeling I enjoyed and was understandably uncomfortable and rightly so.

A bed at Beachspot Hostel became home the next two weeks and where the dorm only had two beds, and me the lone occupant. Not a bad deal for a dorm with a door to a balcony overlooking the beach. The place was like a sauna with merely a fan, but one couldn’t complain about the price.

At around sunset, I sauntered to the night market, bought a beer from 7-Eleven, and sat on the beach, enjoying the evening.

 

30 April - Jomtien

My morning jog was an immense pleasure on a beach that stretched quite a few kilometres both North and South. A dip in the ocean made me realise the water was so warm it could never cool me. Still, I wasn’t complaining and waddled in the lukewarm water like a contented hippo.

I was fast learning the Thai ways. A coin-operated laundry allowed doing easy laundry and the remainder of the morning was spent running the usual errands. By midday I retreated to the relative cool of my room, only to surface at around sunset.

 

1–6 May - Jomtien

Hanging around Jomtien wasn’t what I wanted to do and was keen to get underway. Still, it took some time for the condo to be registered in my name. The words condo, flat or apartment doesn’t describe the unit as it was merely a room. The reasons for buying it were nevertheless multiple. I felt I needed to secure a more permanent abode as my money was dwindling super-fast. I thus searched for the most inexpensive place available as I didn’t want to worry about it not bringing in an income. Doing this would give me a place to stay (virtually free) forever (if needed). Thailand further made an excellent central base and was still one of the few places in the world where foreigners could buy property (not land).

The flat was tenanted (something I was thankful for), and there was thus no playing house-house in my new apartment. Immoblien helped me open a bank account, which made convenient depositing of the monthly rent. The only problem was the internet banking password would take two weeks. But, by far, the truly extraordinary thing was I paid for the unit using my bank card. I’ve never bought a property using a bank card! Suddenly I was the proud owner of a property in Thailand and, in one fell swoop, went from traveller to ex-pat!

 

7 May - Jomtien

The days passed slowly as I waited to sign the relevant documents at the land office. In the meantime, I took the ferry to Koh Larn island with Emmy and Katae from the Immobilien Office. It was a lovely day out, and upon my return, I ordered a bowl of mushroom soup from a food vendor and enjoyed it sitting on the sand, watching the sunset.

 

8 May - Jontiem

The previous relaxing day must’ve done me good as I was up at 5h30 and pounding the pavements by 6h00. I even took three minutes off my usual time. Still, no faster than a crawl, but it made me happy. Afterwards, a swim in the ocean and coffee on the beach made a perfect start to another marvellous day.

 

9 May - Jomtien

It’s pretty amazing how much we experience in a day and how many exciting things we see if only we have time to reflect. Jogging, I didn’t just see fishing boats return following a night at sea, but ladies sold whatever was caught during the night. Food vendors, in turn, sold noodle soup to the fishermen. I stepped carefully over troubled souls, non-compos mentis upon the pavement, empty bottles beside them. I jogged past sad-looking ladyboys returning from a night out, shoulders hunched and high heels in hand, dragging heavily on a cigarette, and past monks collecting food.

My route took me past where Thailand played Afghanistan in the Asian Beach Handball Championships. Later, I signed papers at the Land Office to transfer the unit into my name. Eating spicy noodle soup and doing laundry in a wastepaper basket was merely a tiny part of the day.

 

10–11 May - Jomtien and around

My daily ride took me off the beaten track, out towards the hills and past the airport and the turtle conservation centre before returning home—easy cycling and not far, about 80 kilometres or so. I returned around 3h30, a good time for coffee and cake.

A jogger went past while sitting staring into space, and it looked good. I ambled to my room, donned my running shoes and headed out the door. It was such a good run; I even went slightly further and ran 11 kilometres instead of my usual 10 kilometres. It wasn’t a great deal further and relatively slow, but still, I felt remarkably energetic. Maybe I should’ve coffee and cake more often.

 

12–15 May - Jomtien and around

So inspired was I by the previous day’s running and cycling I did it again (this time without the coffee). It turned out quite an exciting day. The weather was overcast and it drizzled from time to time, making perfect cycling weather.

Most places in Pattaya turned out fake, like the cultural village and the floating market. I did, however, come across an unusual, let’s call it, “park”, for lack of a better word. The area was around a large and beautiful lake, sporting fountains, manicured gardens and plenty of temples (wats) and stupas. From there the road continued to the “Big Buddha Mountain”, which turned out a Big Buddha with a difference, not a statue but an image carved (lasered) into the side of a mountain, known as the Khao Chi Chan Buddha. It’s an image of Buddha sitting cross-legged, one hand resting on his knee and the other in his lap. The image is 109-metre-tall and 70-metre-wide. I understood the image was designed using computer software and drawn onto the side of Khao Chi Chan by laser. This was done entirely at night. During the day, the image was fixed and adjusted, and when completed, gold was used to fill in the sculpture.

Rain came gushing down, and I returned to Jomtien for a large plate of green curry.

The following morning, I emerged with a stiff neck/shoulder and feared I was getting to the stage of needing a caregiver. It must’ve been a pulled muscle even though I didn’t swing from any chandeliers. I thus didn’t go for my jog but took a walk along the ocean. It was a pleasure wandering amongst the boats and anglers. As no vessel in Asia would ever dream of going out without its prow adorned by colourful ribbons, sashes, and/or garlands of flowers, they made a colourful sight. It’s believed numerous spirits and deities watch over the boats and fishers, and the prows are decorated to respect “Mae Yanang,” a female spirit who resides in the boat’s body. As Mae Yanang is the goddess of travel, I thought of adorning the bicycle with these coloured ribbons. My neck pain improved, but still, by evening, I could barely lift a beer, a real pain in the neck.

 

16 May - Jomtien

Impatient, I cycled to the bank to enquire about the password and was told there was one more form to sign and I wondered why they didn’t inform me? In any event, I wasn’t going to wait a further week and cycled to the property agent, paid the transfer fee and gave them a copy of my bank account to arrange the rental payment.

Finally, I was ready to make my way out of Jomtien and returned to the dorm, did the last laundry, and packed up.

 

17 May - Jontiem – Rayong – 80 km

A storm came in during the night and by morning, it looked as if a mini typhoon hid the area. Pot plants, banners and branches were strewn across the street. Still, the weather didn’t put me off. Under heavy skies, I cycled out of Jomtien and managed exactly five kilometres before being forced to take shelter. Nevertheless, it was good back on the bike and amongst simple roadside stands and chasing dogs (never dreamt I would say such a thing.). The weather looked threatening all day, and on reaching Rayong, I discovered I’d cycled myself right into the mouth of the storm. The wind, by then, was storm-strength, and it took clawing onto the handlebars using all my strength, dodging flying corrugated iron sheets, plastic tables and chairs. Cycling became downright dangerous, and no good looking for camping. The Mee Dee Hotel saved me, and it was a relief to be out of the weather.

 

18 May - Ranong – Kung Wiman Beach – 101 km

The weather looked marginally better, making it possible to continue. Everywhere people were busy cleaning debris from the storm. Branches, trees, but mostly trash coughed up by the ocean littered my path.

Still, it turned out a lovely ride, terribly humid but with a good cloud cover and no rain. A scenic route offering a bicycle path led along the coast, making enjoyable riding past chicken barbeque and durian stands. It must’ve been durian season as vendors made and sold surprisingly tasty durian crisps.

My route spat me out at Kung Wiman Beach, sporting a convenient Wat/temple for camping. The only problem was the heat and humidity, and the tent instantly turned into a sauna. There, however, was no other choice but to crawl in as the mosquitos were eager, giant, and plentiful.

 

19 May - Kung Wiman Beach – Trat – 98 km

The heat made a speedy departure, and I thanked the monks and followed a scenic coastal route. Sadly, the weather was miserable, and rain came pelting down the best part of the ride. A lady travelling by scooter stopped and handed me a raincoat. How sweet of her. I’d one but found them too hot. Still, I donned the raincoat she gave me. My route went past many interesting sights but I only stopped once to look at mud sculptures. Sopping wet, I rode into Trak and was happy to find Pop Guesthouse, a lovely set-up with a friendly vibe that came at a budget price.

 

20 May - Trat, Thailand – Koh Kong, Cambodia - 106 km

My unhurried departure was due to pouring rain. At the first break in the weather, I was out of Trat to cycle the short distance to the Thailand/Cambodian border.

The section between Trat and the border was exceptionally scenic and offered mountains and coastal vistas, making enjoyable riding. Unfortunately, it was too wet to do anything and I pressed onwards.

The border crossing came with the usual exit and entrance stamps. I pedalled into Cambodia and onto Koh Kong, the first Cambodian town along the opposite side of the Koh Poi River.

In Koh Kong, an inexpensive room gave me a bed and shower. I dressed in dry clothes and searched for a Cambodian SIM card and food. Both sounded more straightforward in writing than what it turned out in a country where not much English was spoken. Mercifully, restaurants generally offered pictures from which to order as I was hungry and in no mood to flap arms and cackle like a chicken or snort like a pig.