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