Indochine

Two weeks since the last update, and so much to write about - there are a few internet cafes in Laos and Cambodia, but not a lot of bandwidth unfortunately...

You may notice that the interactive map is no longer on the right hand side of the blog. It's still alive and well and can be accessed here, but Rich Conroy complained that it was crashing his computer, so I've taken it off. Now Rich is known for having deep pockets and short arms, so he's probably trying to view the blog on a BBC B. If anyone else had problems with the map, let me know. Otherwise the map will go back up, and Rich will have to upgrade or try to find an internet cafe in Hudderfield.

My route has obviously created confusion for a few readers (Larissa - I ate the frog in Malaysia - they do have Chinese restaurants outside China...). So to supplement the map, here's a quick recap since collecting the bike in Singapore: up through Malaysia and Thailand, a week in the Chiang Mai area for the excellent roads, then across into Laos and down into Cambodia. I plan to be back in Thailand in a few days to fly the bike to Kathmandu - hopefully this will be a quicker process than shipping from Brisbane...

So what's been going on over the past 2 weeks? After Chiang Mai, I headed east again to do the Doi Phukka loop before crossing the Mekong into Laos. I know I've been banging on about great biking roads, which is probably of little interest to 98% of the people reading this blog, but as a final remark, the 1148 is without doubt the very, very best road in Northern Thailand. There's a stretch of perfect tarmac north of Pua where they basically forgot to put the straights in - just corner after corner for about 100km across the mountaintops - sheer perfection...

Now I'm usually fairly careful with my toys, but one accessory that I've never had much luck with is cameras. I developed the bad habit of tucking my camera behind the handlebars, and sure enough, it slipped down behind the headstock when I wasn't looking. A touch of full lock and the camera screen was smashed... And when you can get a night's accommodation, a slap-up dinner and full tank of petrol and still have change from twenty quid, shelling out for a new camera really hurts.

But on the bright side, this gave me an excuse to do something I'd meant to try for a while - bikecam... technically, the old camera still works, so I taped it onto the bars to see what happened. Now the results aren't quite motogp standard (more like Blair Witch Project), but it should give a flavour of some of the roads I've been riding.


1148 - THE best road in Thailand (courtesy of shakycam)

Entering Laos was a laugh. I was slightly wary of the People's Democratic Republic after being subjected to their karaoke until 3 in the morning from the other side of the riverbank the previous night. About an hour later, the monks start with the drums and the gongs - some kind of psychological warfare from the Party? Next morning, I decided to skip the classic "motorbike on canoe" photo, since (i) I didn't fancy trying to fish a fully loaded Transalp out of the Mekong, and (ii) there is a significantly more robust barge available. Of course, I hadn't reckoned on sharing the barge with a 50ft truck, by which stage the canoe didn't look like such a bad option.

Are you sure this thing floats?

I rolled off the barge, and there was no immigration or customs office to be seen in Houay Xai. Furthermore, I wasn't entirely sure which side of the road they drive on, and it wasn't immediately obvious from watching the locals, either. Being a responsible world citizen, I finally located the immigration office with the help of an Australian backpacker, and got my first dose of communist service - 30 minutes waiting for someone to take my $35 payment for the visa (no explanation offered). I then spent another half hour looking for the customs office to get the carnet stamped, but this time to no avail. I even stopped at the police station twice, but all I got was grunts and shrugs. So no carnet stamp in Laos - I'm sure the seasoned bikers on Horizons Unlimited will be grumbling into their beards about the trouble this can cause, but it strikes me that the carnet's for their benefit, and if they don't want to see it...

The ride down from Houay Xai to Louang Prabang took about a day and a half, and it's an absolute blinder on a dual sport. The road winds its way through some beautiful mountain scenery, but contains some monster potholes and plenty of unmade sections.

The 13 north of Louang Prabang - brilliant!

It passes through dozens of hill tribe villages, which are typically very tidy but definitely close to nature... I must have passed about a dozen broken down trucks - the roads are seriously steep, and when they expire, they can't be towed and can only be fixed on the spot. Some of them appear to have the entire engine laid out on the road, and may be there for some time...

Not a good place to break down

Louang Prabang is a revelation. The last thing I expected to find in the middle of a poor, rural, communist country is a perfectly preserved / restored French colonial town. It's like riding into a film set, with beautiful old buildings in mint condition, fantastic hotels, and incredible food. I had dinner at the Villa Santi, an old royal mansion, where they offer a banquet served to the Lao royal family, for the princely sum of $13. The royal family died in exile a while back, but I can safely say it wasn't through poor diet. For the foodies reading this blog (Ryan, Michael...) I'll prepare a proper list at some point of all the cool stuff I've eaten.

Indochine is alive and well

I had my first run in with the law in Louang Prabang, where I (foolishly) took a ride round the town 'local-style' (i.e., without helmet). Of course, the local army took this as an open invitation to pull me over and ask for 100,000 Kip, or they would take me to the police station. After some terse words and long stares, this came down to 50,000 Kip, and finally they lost interest, gave me my licence back, and sent me on my way. A couple of lessons learned that I'm sure will come in handy later on - don't ride without a helmet, use a copy of the licence next time... I didn't get out of LP completely scot-free, however - the annoying 'shoes off' rule at the hotel led to an unfortunate packing oversight, and I am now down to flip-flops and motocross boots...

After Louang Prabang, Vientiane was a bit of a disappointment - not much was left standing after the Indochine wars, and there's very little to see or do, so I didn't stick around. Heading south from Vientiane, I had another little moment - I discovered a little too late that a road crew had left a liberal sprinkling of gravel on the outside of a tight corner, so my beautiful Touratech pannier now has a couple of neat armco grooves down the side - didn't think I'd be riding away from that one quite so easily...

Locals celebrating cover-yourself-in-charcoal-and-get-loaded-on-rice-wine day...

After such excitement, I pulled over at the side of the road to contemplate taking a little nap when - shock, horror - a couple of other overland bikers appeared. Being good Germans, Elmar "shaft drive" Juenger and Bjorn "don't call me falang" Holland were quite shocked that I should attempt my such a long trip on anything other than a BMW. However, we soon resolved our differences and had a night out in nearby Savannakhet. I was soon reminded of the benefits of riding solo - it took us almost an hour to find a restaurant that met the following conditions:

Rob: plenty of locals; no mouldy food on display
Elmar: traditional Lao cuisine
Bjorn: must be inside; no soup

We ended up eating overpriced Western food in a deserted restaurant, but at least the beer was free flowing and the conversation quickly turned to football and world wars.

Sourain Guest House becomes RTW HQ

On my way to the Cambodian border, I elected to spend the night on Khong Island, which was a good decision because I found some great hotels. It was quite a challenge finding the ferry, and after picking my way down a dirt track for a few kilometres (surely not a good sign that you're on the right road for a ferry...), I came across what was undoubtedly the sketchiest bridge yet. After some considerable encouragement from the local rubberneckers, I dismounted and walked the bike across - much as I love my Transalp, there was no need for both of us to plunge into a 20-foot ravine if the rotten planks gave way.

Admit it - you just want to see me fall...

On Khong Island, I stayed at the excellent Mekong Guest House with an incredible view of the river from my balcony. I also learned the secret of why Laos has so many good guesthouses - a lot of Lao folks who emigrated to the US, Australia and Canada during the war in the 1970s are returning in their 50s to reclaim property that was appropriated by the communists from their parents, and turning these properties into boutique hotels that meet the expectations of western guests (e.g., flushing toilets).

View from the balcony at sunset

On the way back from Khong Island the next morning, the ferry had just left when I arrived at the dock, so I reluctantly decided to get that "motorbike on canoe" photo...

Admit it - you just want to see me fall (#2)...

Now it seems that every waterfall in SE Asia is signposted, and thus far I not felt the need to check any of them out, but Khone Papheng on the Mekong is billed as the largest in SE Asia, so I took a small detour on my way to the Cambodian border, and I was not disappointed.

Khone Papheng - about as much of it as you can capture in a little camera...

At the border, leaving Laos was fairly straightforward (especially since there was no carnet to stamp out, which was a blessing since there sure as hell wasn't a customs office...). Entering Cambodia was a different matter altogether... The customs guy was asleep in his hammock when I arrived at his hut, and after filling in the form, he informed me that there was a $5 charge. Now of course I don't know for sure, but I was fairly certain that this was going straight into his back pocket, so I refused to pay, and the waiting game began. Obviously, he had the advantage of a hammock here, so I wandered across to the immigration hut to see if I could get things moving. We had a similar conversation there ($21 for the visa - where's the rate sheet? - OK sir, we know that you know that it should only be $20 (I didn't - must be getting good at this) but life here is difficult, and you don't have to pay the extra dollar if you don't want to - we don't know what the customs charge should be...). Bottom line - the border guard wouldn't let me cross without the customs form, so the customs guy had me by the short and curlies, and I was hoping to get to Phnom Penh by nightfall. He got his money and an almighty spray, which he'd obviously heard many times before.

Back on the road, and Northern Cambodia is very hot and very flat and the road's not bad, so I pushed on. I met Simon and Florina, a German/Swiss couple, at a filling station. They were heading up to Laos on a couple of Yamaha 150s that they bought in Bangkok, which they were beginning to regret because in Cambodia these are considered to be 'big bikes' so the local mechanics won't touch them. Which just goes to show that you can't go wrong with a Honda Super Cub - I don't think I've been more than 10 yards from one over the past couple of months. Bloody marvellous machines - providing transport to an entire planet. There are dozens of market stalls selling every conceivable new and used component in each city I've been to.

Simon and Florina - good effort!

Anyway, Simon and Florina seemed like a nice couple, so we wished each other luck, did the customary exchange (Laos map for Cambodia Lonely Planet), and went our separate ways. But not before Simon used my two favourite terms - "short cut" and "dirt road" - in a single sentence. He reckoned I could take 80km off the journey to Phnom Penh by riding along the riverbank at Kratie and cutting out a large bend in the R7. Which was absolutely right, and made the journey a lot more interesting by taking me past some traditional Cambodian villages.

It only takes one idiot to ruin a photo...

Now one of the rules that I'd set before I started the trip was no riding after dusk unless absolutely necessary, and it's one that I've bent on a number of occasions. But on the day I rode into Phnom Penh, I did almost 600km in a day which including some off-road, a ferry trip and a less-than-smooth border crossing. By the time I reached Kompong Cham, it was getting dark and I still had about 120km to go. Riding after dark in Thailand and Laos had been hairy, but it was nothing compared to Cambodia. The road was full of vehicles - bicycles, mopeds, ox-carts, juggernauts, you name it... The rule of big things operates here, i.e., small vehicles always give way to big things, so I frequently found myself blinded by an oncoming Land Cruiser doing about 120kph on my side of the road. To compound matters, there are no road markings, which makes it virtually impossible to see the edge of the road... After about 30 minutes of this, I decided I could significantly increase my life expectancy by following a large petrol tanker, which unfortunately had a maximum speed of about 40kph. Entering Phnom Penh, things got even crazier - mopeds everywhere, traffic lights completely ignored, city centre dirt roads, flashing neon lights - this place is mental!