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!

Dilligaf

My trip to Mae Sai was primarily to do a visa run, i.e., nip across the Myanmar border into Tachilek, then return to Thailand for a new two-week visa. Because those annoying folks in Myanmar won't allow the temporary import of vehicles, I will have to fly the bike from Bangkok to Kathmandu later in the month. But I was curious to see what Myanmar was like. It had a distinct Indian flavour to it - a lot of curry stands, and plenty of red spit flying around. I know that border towns are seldom the most appealing places, but after less than an hour I was in the queue to return back to Thailand... enough said I think.

Crossing the bridge into Myanmar

From Mae Sai I took the 1290 to the Golden Triangle where Thailand, Myanmar and Laos meet at the confluence of the Mekong and Ruak rivers. The road is relatively flat and boring, and there's not much to do there, other than go to the Opium Museum, where I learned that the best position to smoke opium is called 'heels in buttocks'. I thought it might be like a brewery tour, but free samples at the end were not forthcoming. It was interesting to see the Mekong, although I think I will be seeing plenty more of it in Laos.

Don't worry mum - I'm wearing a money belt under my shirt...

At the end of the day, I headed to Chiang Rai along the 4004 and the 1209, which run along a flood plain, so not much sport there. I stayed at the excellent Kung Thong hotel on Sanambin (well, clean sheets, hot water and friendly staff is excellent in my book for 270 Baht).

The next day, I headed back to the west. After such great riding around Doi Ang Thang and Mae Salong, I was wondering if it was worthwhile to go back and do the 'Mae Hong Son loop', but it turned out to be one of the highlights of North Thailand. From Chiang Rai, the 118 to Wiang Pa Pao isn't too exciting, but the 1150 to the 107 is an absolute blinder - with lots of elevation changes and tight corners, it's a great road for sportsbikes. Just outside Phrao, I had a quick reality check - bits of moped and vegetables scattered across the road eventually led to the aftermath of a head-on crash between a step-thru and a pick-up. Not a pretty sight. Rather than pick my way through the crowd and the paramedics, I decided that a U-turn was the best course of action and stopped in Phrao for some lunch.

After some great mountain roads, I decided to finish the day with a bit of dirt. There's a 50km 'forestry trail' on the map from Kong Lom to Pai that's accessible from the 1322. The 1322 is a brilliant ride - more twisty mountain roads - but it dead-ends at the Myanmar border. At the checkpoint in Kong Lom, they reckoned it was a 4 hour ride to Pai, but it was already 3:30pm and it gets dark here at around 6:30, so I knew I had to push on. The first part really got the adrenaline going - incredibly steep climbs and descents, thick with bull dust, with hairpin corners and steep drop-offs. Past Muang Noi, it was a bit flatter so I could make much better progress, and I rolled into Pai at about 6pm.

Track into Pai from the north

I think I'll take my chances with the ford

As soon as I entered Pai, I could tell it was a bit different. Sure, it's predominantly another tourist town for people who want to trek in the nearby mountains, but it has a very distinct vibe. It's clean. It's genuinely 'arty' - real creative stuff, rather than the generic 'face of buddha' art you usually see in Thailand. They even close the road to cars for the night market. In a word, it's 'boutique'. In fact, it's so unique that the locals call it Pailand. Having bagged the San Franciscans for their Tolstoy-reading in Mae Salong, I have to give one back to the English - there are a lot of public schoolboys cruising around Pai on mopeds discussing their hangovers and which waterfall to visit today. But it's a cool place nevertheless.

The highlight for me in Pai was Dilligaf, a biker bar on Thanon Rungsiyanon run by Jan and his wife Gaew. Jan expained that Dilligaf stands for 'Do I Look Like I Give A Fuck', which after working in Holland for many years is his guiding principle. Since one of the motivations for this trip is to get a bit more Dilligaf in my life, I thought it made a good motto for the trip. Plus I liked the sticker, which now sits proudly on the screen under the Union Jack.

After a few Changs at Dilligaf, we finished the evening at the Bamboo Bar, where we sat on a bamboo terrace around a clay firepit - it can get a bit chilly up in the mountains. Unfortunately, the next day began with a bit of a hangover - four large (i.e., 660ml) Changs in one evening is a bit much, especially at 6.4%. However, after a hot day in the saddle, the first couple do tend to disappear fairly quickly, and they're only about one pound fifty. Hmm - one night in Pai and now I'm discussing my hangovers...

Accommodation at Charlie's Guest House was very good. The next day, I hit the legendary 1095 - much loved by bikers, and much feared by those travelling by bus. In fact, they say that some tour companies give certificates to people who finish the journey without puking. I rode the 100 or so kilometres to Mae Hong Son, and I must say that it's one of the very, very best roads I've ever seen - smooth as a ribbon and winding its way up to about 1,500 metres. Some of the corners are so long that you can forget which way is up... On a sportsbike it would be sublime, but other than a couple of old CB750s, I didn't see a single big bike.

No pukers please

At Mae Hong Son, I took a detour to see a Paduang village up in the mountains at Huai Sua Tao. They're famous for having long necks - which they do...

Longneck woman

Instead of doing the whole Mae Hong Son loop, which is about 520km, I turned off the 108 at Khun Yuam and took the 1263 to Mae Chaem, another pearler of a ride. It's a bit rougher and tighter, but that suits me fine on a dual sport. Mae Chaem was fairly unremarkable as a stop-over, but served as a good base for a trip up Doi Inthanon, the highest mountain in Thailand, which conveniently has a road leading right to the top. Once again, the 1192 and 1009 on either side of Doi Ithanon are stunning roads.

Doi Inthanon

By this stage, I was incredibly glad to have cut back from the Golden Triangle to ride a part of the Mae Hong Son loop. The roads to the north east and north west of Chiang Mai are a biker's dream, and to make the most of the area, you need to experience both. Jan had invited me back to Pai to ride with him and his mates, and I would have quite happily spent another couple of weeks exploring the area, but I'm conscious that the days are ticking by, so I decided to head back to Chiang Mai. Additionally, I've given the bike a lot of abuse over the past week, and I need to be mindful that there's a lot of ground yet to cover on this trip, and some of it will not be as amenable as Thailand.

I was planning to spend one night in Chiang Mai to collect my panniers, which I had left at the hotel, and prepare for the two day ride to Laos. Unfortunately I had my first 'Heston Blumenthal' moment of the trip that evening, and it really came on strong. Just as I thought things couldn't get worse, the lights went out - not a pleasant experience given the utter devastation I'd just wreaked on the bathroom - and I could hear a lot of sirens outside. It did briefly crossed my mind that the hotel might be burning down, and then the lights came back on and I was able to clean things up. But when I opened the curtains and looked out of the window, there was an almighty fire down the street. Tomorrow will be a recovery day, I think...

If you never binned it, you weren't trying hard enough...

I finally christened the crash bars and barkbusters in earnest on the way down from Doi Ang Khang. In my defence, it's the only stretch of road marked on the GT Riders map as 'extremely steep' - which was a bit of a red rag to a bull... I'd left Chiang Mai at lunchtime and headed North up the 107, which is a bit of a snooze. But after peeling off onto the 1178, the road got much more interesting - fast sweeping bends for about 50km to Arunothai, and then onto the 1340 for the really steep mountain stuff. You literally ride along the top of a mountain range, with Burma on the other side of the valley. Views would be fantastic, but there's a lot of controlled burning going on, so things are a bit hazy.

Anyway, the surface is pretty much 'once was asphalt' north of Doi Ang Khang - broken bits of tarmac, ruts, sand, you name it - and just as I was starting to feel like a real Crusty Demon of Dirt, I hit the aforementioned 'extremely steep' downhill section, the front wheel dropped into a big rut, and I exitted front centre, feet first over the bars. Fortunately all the crash gear did it's job and the bike is still fully functioning, but it looks a bit more like the part now (before the spill, the Hepco and Becker crash bars looked so pristine that I saw a Swedish tourist stroke them as he walked past in Phuket). Rider protection worked fine as well, apart from the jacket which was safely stowed away due to the heat, so I now have a very fetching Ko Samui Tattoo on my left arm.

Scene of the crime

So backtracking a little, at the end of my last post I was contemplating a random punt from Kanchanaburi to Umphang along the Burmese border. In the end I decided not to because there were no roads on the map, plus there was about 400km between known fuel stops, so I would not have been able to turn round in the last stretch if I had got stuck. The deciding factor was that I slept through my alarm and didn't hit the road until 10am, so 500km mostly off road would have been a struggle... probably the right call, especially for a lone rider.

Instead, I rode up the 3086 to Dan Chang, and then took the 333 through Lan Sak. It's flat farmland, so there's no real sport except dodging the overloaded sugar cane trucks. I was hoping to access Umphang from the east, because my map shows the 1117 running from Pang Wai through the Mae Wong National Park, but when I got to the park entrance at about 5pm, they told me the road didn't go right the way through. After trying to persuade the warden that I'd like to have a look anyway, she said the road terminated 40km further along at a campsite. Since I still have my tent, 120 baht changed hands and I was on my way to the campsite.

Caning it

The 1117 up to the campsite at Chong Yen is like Jurassic Park - a steep, overgrown single track. The campsite is a nicely manicured piece of grass at 1,300 metres with stunning views over the park, and there were a couple of rangers staying at the station there. Wonderful fresh air, crystal clear sky, cooking on the camp stove again - marvellous!

Jurassic Park

The next morning, I checked out the road ahead and sure enough, it completely dead-ended - not even a dirt track. I decided that rather than spend the next night in Mae Sot, I'd head straight for Chiang Mai, since that's where the real riding is supposed to begin.

Camping bliss

The ride up to Chiang Mai is fairly unremarkable - I stayed off the main 1 highway, but the 106 from Thoen is straight and flat, just like an English A-road. Chiang Mai is a fun town - there are lots of bars and restaurants, and there's a clear distinction between the expat / backpacker / package tourist parts of town. I stayed at the Sripoon Hotel just off Moon Muang Road - great location with off-street parking, and spotless rooms with A/C and TV for 400 baht. After a heavy couple of days of riding, it was nice to be able to relax and take care of some maintenance. The bike got an oil change at G3, and I got a haircut. The shaved head is a big hit with the girls at the filling stations - as soon as the helmet comes off, I now get 'Beckham', which is a big improvement on 'Rooney', which was the usual response to my widow's peak...

At Chiang Mai, I met up with David Unkovich, who under the name of GT Rider has published some great maps of Northern Thailand and Laos. There are a few multi-days loops that I want to do, and I decided to hit the Golden Triangle first because it takes me up to Mae Sae and the Myanmar border, where I needed to get my Thai visa renewed. To make the most of the great riding conditions, I'm doing the multi-day trips with just the top box - the panniers are staying at the Sripoon Hotel - which makes the bike a lot lighter.

After riding up (and falling down) Doi Ang Khang, I followed the 1089 through the unappealingly-named Fang and the polite-sounding Mae Ai (yes, please do) before stopping at the charming town of Tha Ton on the amusingly-named River Kok. Clean, secure accommodation at Naam Waan cost 200 Baht, just round the corner from the Sunshine Cafe, where I had a wonderful red curry. I finished off the evening at the You and I, where the barman explained to me how difficult it was being a muslim in his profession (well, perhaps you should shave your beard off and change your name from Ali...). The clientele comprised Sylvie, Ali's French girlfriend, and her two Swiss ex-husbands - an interesting mix...

Next morning the riding really got interesting - fast sweeping bends and tight switchbacks on the 1234 up to Mae Salong, which is a beautiful hill town with an incredible history - it was given by the Thai government to the 93rd Division of the Chinese Army who refused to surrender to the communists after the Chinese civil war, who then grew opium to fund their anti-communist crusade... the whole story is on wikipedia, and will make a great 15 minute break when you're bored at work... What with opium not being quite so popular with the Thai government these days (they have completely eradicated cultivation in Thailand), those clever Chinese have switched to growing flowers, and have built some really nice lodges where trekkers from San Francisco can drink the locally grown Oolong tea and discuss Anna Karenina..

Mae Salong

Tea picking - Chinese style

Having failed to have my riding spirits dampened by the previous day's tumble, I left Mae Salong in search of some serious dirt roads, and I found them on the hack up to Hua Mae Kham, which is on a little spit of Thailand which sticks out into Myanmar. After about 20km of dirt, the road leads straight up the side of the mountain to a hill tribe, and the last kilometer is a steep gradient covered with ruts with bull dust about 4 inches deep. Bull dust is strange stuff - it's a bit like talcum powder and has a consistency like water - and at the top of the hill, I was covered from head to foot in the stuff.

Bull dust

Sport!

After hacking up and down that slope, I was pretty exhausted and decided to head for Mae Sai, which would give me good access to the border the next day. I had time for a couple more great stretches of road - the 1334, which an absolute pearler and has some of the tightest hairpins I've ever seen coming out of Pha Bur, and the 1149 which leads up to the temple at Doi Tung. The ride back down to the 1 highway is incredible - the road is close to perfection (which may have something to do with the Royal Villa half way up...) and you can smell the perfume from the nurseries all the way up the hill.

Doi Tung - but what does it all mean???

I finished the day in Mae Sai, which is definitely not one of the more appealing spots in Thailand, and I won't recommend any accommodation because I'm sure the Bamboo House where I stayed is not the best.

Bridge on the River Kwai...

The next morning I hit the 41 again for Kanchanaburi - to see the bridge on the River Kwai. I bypassed Bangkok since I need to go there later to fly the bike to India (I'm now convinced that a land route through Burma or China is not possible / feasible). I was passed on the highway by some guys on sportsbikes doing about 140kph (the Transalp runs out of steam at about 130kph). Further up the road, I caught up with them at a petrol station - they're the 96 Superbike club from Nakhon Si Thammarat, and had managed to accumulate a Hayabusa, a Fireblade, a Blackbird and an '82 Katana (on its 4th engine) - quite a turnout for Thailand! In due course they left me behind again, but not after I'd collected a club sticker for my bike...

96 Superbike club

I seem to be making a habit of ending each day by arriving at my destination after dark, on a dirt road, with the petrol gauge past the 'E', and this was no exception. Having spent most of the day on the highway, I left the 41 at Ratchaburi and cut across country for the final 100kms or so to Kanchanaburi via Chom Bung. It was approaching dusk and there was a distinct Saturday night feel to the place - everyone heading home, the smell of woodfires hung in the air, the local party spots lit by neon lights... The countryside was very flat and criss-crossed by roads, so it was fairly easy to keep zig-zagging north east (although one stage, the 'road' was a 4ft wide concrete bike track on a ridge between paddy fields).

Temple at dusk

As usual, I took my role as ambassador for international motorcycle travellers very seriously by shattering the peace in every village with my loud exhaust, although one group of locals got a laugh when I encountered a ~6ft snake writhing in the middle of the road - my feet were round my ears faster than you could say "perhaps a snakebite to the foot is preferable to one in the arse".

Probably the most annoying thing about riding at dusk is the fog of insects that manage to find their way into my crash helmet. By and large I've been fairly pleased with my swanky Arai XD3 lid, but it does have a large number of vents which scoop up bugs and propel them directly into my scalp and ears, which necessitates frequent stops to remove the helmet and scratch frantically (and even if there wasn't a bug, the feeling that there might be is just as motivating). After trying in vain to figure out how to close the vents, I just got out the insulating tape - haven't those clever folks at Arai figured out that when a biker wants a breeze, they just open the visor???

I finally popped out on the River Kwai, and I could see Kanchanaburi on the other side. After mild concern as to how I was going to get the bike across a rail bridge, I was relieved to find that there are numerous road bridges these days. In fact, the 'Bridge' is not at all like in the film (which was fictional), and is located in the centre of a busy town.

Bridge on the River Kwai? Just past Tesco...

However, Kanchanaburi does mark the start of the infamous Thailand-Burma death railway, and there is a very large (and exceptionally well-maintained) allied cemetary in the town. Even more incredible is Hellfire Pass about 60km away, which was carved by hand in 12 weeks. I walked along the railway for about 8km, and it was bloody hard work, even with the embankments and cuttings in place. It wasn't helped by the fact that it's about 35 degrees in Thailand at the moment, which means I can sweat my way through my entire wardrobe in about 48 hours...

Allied cemetary in Kanchanaburi

Hellfire Pass

I've been staying at the Rainbow Lodge, which has clean, air conditioned rooms on the riverbank for 450 Baht. The two old ladies were kind enough to let me park the bike in their lobby / living room, and were polite enough not to laugh too loudly as I dropped the bike as I wheeled it in...

There was so much to see in Kanchanaburi that I stayed for a couple of days, but the sound of 'Colonel Bogey' has started getting on my nerves, so it's time to head up-country. I'm hoping to ride up to Umphang along the Burmese border. According to the maps, it can't be done, but nothing ventured, nothing gained...

A quick update on the score - 27 days on the road (plus 30 while the bike was in transit), and over 8,500km covered...

Onwards and upwards into Thailand

I ended up staying in Penang for three nights - the couchsurfers there took great care of me (thanks to Kendra and Mun in particular), as did the staff at the Blue Diamond hotel. George Town has a real, whacked out travellers feel and is an easy place to lose yourself for a few days. I did a quick tour of the island as well - the war museum and the tropical fruit farm were very interesting, and the national park in the NW corner has great roads and scenery.

With fellow couchsurfers in Penang - Happy Lee, Mei Mei, Kendra and yours truly

Malaysian cuisine is as varied as the various groups that make up the country, but Penang is mainly Chinese, so that's largely what was on the menu. Now the Chinese don't hold back on the ingredients, and I'll try anything once - boiled frog was surprisingly good (yes, it does taste like chicken...)

Ribbet

But all good things come to an end, and the caravan rolled out of George Town bound for the Thai border at Betong, and on to Hat Yai. This route looked more interesting than the highway which leads directly north from Penang, but it's not that remarkable on the Malaysian side. But as soon as you cross into Thailand, it's like entering a war zone. There has been a lot of insurgency on that side of the border, and there is a military checkpoint at the entry and exit to every village between Betong and Hat Yai. I passed about half a dozen Hummers (and not the soccer-mom version - these bad boys have machine guns on the roof). I'll leave that image to your imagination - since the soldiers were wearing bandanas to conceal their identity, I decided that pulling out the SureShot would not be a good move.

Thai border - hippies not allowed

I chugged on through Yala and arrived in Hat Yai after dark. It was a bigger city than I expected, and although I had the name of a hotel that had been recommended by another biker, I had not bothered to mark in on my GPS. When I stopped to ask a group of locals if they knew where the Yong Dee was, one of them was immediately enlisted to escort me there on his moped - service indeed! The Yong Dee was fairly sumptuous by my current standards, and at 500 Baht (10 quid) with secure off-street parking, definitely gets a thumbs up. The food in Hat Yai is fairly good too. Not much to do there (the best compliment that the Rough Guide can find is "Malaysians go there to get laid"), but a reasonable stop-over.

The next day, I decided to head for Phuket, which is a 450km slog along the 4 highway. Not very remarkable - a bit like the A1 - although I did run into Eddie, a mechanic with a bike shop in Krabi who was coming back from a parts run to Singapore on his Yamaha Drag Star. We rode together as far as Krabi, where he bade me farewell. In Phuket, I headed down to Karon Beach where I checked into the Little Mermaid. Another clean, air conditioned hotel room, although the price reflects their top billing in the Rough Guide (1,400 Baht). I got a complementary 240 volts from the shower as well.

Eddie and his Yamaha Drag Star

Phuket is quite an experience - I don't think I've ever seen such a big holiday destination in my life - miles and miles of neon, restaurants, and... hookers. Now obviously, Thailand has a bit of reputation that department, but I was still astounded. Even the US Navy sailors seemed somewhat taken aback. Apart from the hookers, the other dominant group were Swedish tourists - old couples, newlyweds, families - from every demographic, the Swedes were out in force. Not sure it would be my first choice for a honeymoon - a bit like celebrating your anniversary in a brothel - but there you go. Fun spot though... great food, bars, live music... so I stuck around for an extra night, this time at the Nine Ten in Patong Beach, which was better located than the Little Mermaid, just as nice, and half the price...

Obviously, the centre of Thailand is renowned for islands, beaches and scuba diving, but this is a motorcycle trip, so I decided to press on. Kanchaburi is the next 'destination' but that's a couple of days ride from Phuket so I overnighted at Chumphon (sounds like Trumpton...). There's really no alternative to the 4 highway, which runs up the Andaman Coast, an area that was decimated by the tsunami in 2004.

A monument to the tsumani - now sitting 2km from the coast...

Towards the end of the day, I'd reached the Isthmus of Kra (which sounds to me like something from the Lord of the Rings, but Paul reckons it's named after a restaurant in South Melbourne). The 4 highway crosses from the west to east coast, but I was ready for a little more excitement after a long day in the saddle. On the map, there appeared to be a shortcut running through La Un, which was variously named the 4091 / 4139 / 4014, but it didn't appear on the GPS. As soon as I peeled off the highway, things got interesting - steep climbs and incredible views. There's a maze of winding roads and only one of them makes it over the top of the mountains and across to Khao Khai on the Gulf side of the range, but it's worth finding. Eventually you climb out of the villages and the road turns to dirt for about 5km, but the views are incredible - on the Gulf Coast side, there are stunning limestone crags.

On the Andaman side...

On the Gulf side...

Limestone crags...

A quick word here about GPS. I bought a $400 Garmin 60CSX GPSMAP for the trip. It's a 'rugged' model designed for hikers and bikers (i.e., it has the ergonomics of a late 80s cellphone), with a handlebar mount and a USB connection to the bike electrics. Now this isn't like the Tomtom in your car - there is no commercial GPS software for places like Thailand, and at best you can download maps created by enthusiasts, which are not very detailed and not complete. But here's where the GPS is truly invaluable: if you're trying to hack across country on a road that's not shown on a map, it shows you (i) exactly where you are, (ii) exactly where you're trying to get to, and (iii) which direction you're travelling in. Perhaps most importantly of all, it provides a 'breadcrumb' feature showing exactly where you've been, so that if the worst comes to the worst, you can easily retrace your steps. Some adventure bikers say that you can't do without a map, which is true. But if you really want to go off the beaten track, the GPS is a lifesaver. I'm a fan.

Er, I think it's left...

The last 60km to Chumphon involved weaving through heavy trucks on an unlit 41 highway after dark, although I must say that while the Thai driving style is 'pragmatic' (lane markings, road signals etc. are treated as 'advisory'), they are also very attentive and courteous. I had already plugged into my GPS the co-ordinates of the street with the hotels, and the Sureya proved to be a good clean option at 190 Baht (4 quid), plus I could park the bike in the lobby and chain it to their metal bannister. Just down the road is a backpackers hang-out called Fame, which does a really excellent Mussaman curry for 120 Baht - sometimes these backpackers hostels can be the best-run establishments in town (and no doubt the most profitable...)

The fun begins!

Unsurprisingly, the delays continued and I had to wait a couple more days for the bike to arrive in Singapore. But the day finally came, and on an exciting Wednesday morning I caught the bus to the port and endured my final hour of Singaporean bureaucracy queuing for a port entry pass.

Finally I walked truimphantly into the warehouse where my bike was waiting for me. All the boxes were present, and everything was in perfect condition - joy! My arrival was apparently the most exciting event of the day at the port, because a small army of helpers emerged to help me. In less than an hour, we had taken the crate apart, lifted the bike with a forklift so that I could put the front wheel on, and I was on my way.

She lives again!

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful - inbound carnet stamp at the customs post, 30 minute bike ride to the border, outbound carnet stamped, inbound Malaysian carnet stamped... you get the picture. By the time I hit the road in Malaysia, it was 4pm, and after a thorough soaking, I scrapped any ambition of reaching Kuala Lumpur that day and peeled off for Melaka (again). The Travellers Lodge in Taman Melaka Raya that I enjoyed on my last visit was not available, so I opted for Sunny's Inn just down the street. At 2am I woke up to the now familiar feeling of bedbugs - so no recommendation for Sunny's Inn...

From Melaka, Kuala Lumpur is a two hour dash along the E2, which is an efficient (but boring) highway. The Malaysians are great engineers and have a fantastic network of toll roads which are free to motorbikes. At each toll station, there is a small sliproad about 3ft wide that peels off to the left for motorbikes - just need to remember to slow down a little for the 90 degree kinks...

KL was hard work - the GPS (which is proving to be invaluable) showed me exactly where the Travellers Lodge in Jalan Tun HS Lee was, but getting there was another matter due to the web of overpasses, one way streets and no right turns that is KL. To make matters worse, the traffic was appalling and it was over 30 degrees. At least the GPS shows me exactly where I have been with a 'breadcrumb' feature, so it was just a case of slowly zeroing in on the hotel. The Travellers Lodge offered the usual "prison-style" accommodation - concrete floor, bed and mosquitos - but after the previous night's misery, I upgraded to an A/C room to ensure a good night's sleep. There didn't appear to be many sights to see in KL, so I headed over to the Petronas Towers, which are pretty spectacular by night, and met up with Shy, a fellow couchsurfer, for dinner. I had to park the bike on the street overnight in KL, so I figured that the best form of security (in addition to the chain) was to make it as conspicuous as possible. I had been in two minds about putting the Union Jacks on the bike, but it immediately attracted a lot of (friendly) attention here which can only be a good thing - I'll worry about the Taliban later.

Petronas Towers in KL

Next day, I was ready for some "proper" bike riding. Most overland riders take in Fraser's Hill, which is about 100km from KL. I stopped for the ubiquitous breakfast of chicken broth with noodles at the roadside in Kuala Kubu Baru at what turned out to be the local police headquarters - no need to lock the bike then - and took off along the 55. At once, I was into some decent riding - open twisties up a gradual ascent, ribbon-smooth surface, very little traffic, and beautiful scenery. Some corners even had a few monkey spectators waiting for someone to overcook things, a bit like the Isle of Man... For a dual sport bike that (apparently) weighed in at around 250kg with luggage, the Transalp handles like a dream, especially with the new Conti Attacks that I put on in Brisbane.

Fraser's Hill was a trip - at 1,700m, it's nice and cool with great views. It's obviously where the great and good of KL hang out at the weekend, because there are some beautiful old colonial-era bungalows and a very tidy golf course. I had the first of a few lucky breaks on the way there, because the last 8km is one-way, with traffic going up hill on the odd hours and downhill on the even hours, and I arrived at 10:58am...

Here's one for all the bikers...

I then had a bit of a dilemma. I wanted to get to Tanah Rata in the Cameron Highlands by the end of the day, and there appeared to be three routes - retrace my steps to the E1 and take the highway, ride all the way to Gua Musang (which was a long way round), or look for a short-cut. Tanah Rata is only about 50km from Raub, and map showed a road that appeared to go part way, but then it just stopped... Consultation with the locals produced the usual range of 'impossible', 'impassable', and 'under construction', so I decided to try the short cut. But first of all, the road to Raub (55) was an absolute joy - about 25 miles of perfect blacktop winding its way through the jungle, shared with just a few logging trucks. As I was later reminded by Nash, this ain't no Australian style 'rainforest' covering a few miles, but proper jungle containing tigers, king cobras, anacondas and natives with blow-pipes - obviously I didn't actually see any of this, but I did see a 4ft lizard on the road which was not inclined to stick around for a photo.

Welcome to the jungle

Having prepared myself for a jungle track from Raub to Tanah Rata, I was pleasantly surprised to find the C156 was actually a major highway with a number of major viaducts, and once again almost completely deserted. I was enjoying the ride, when it suddenly came to a stop - turns out the 'under construction' prognosis was correct. The last 20-30km involved riding through a jungle highway construction site, dodging dump trucks and excavators.

End of the road

After feeling slightly hard done by with the highway, I enjoyed some great dirt riding - gravel, mud, sand... At one point, I made a wrong turn and took off up the steepest dirt track I have ever ridden on, which ended up after a few kms at a locked gate and some very concerned locals. Now uphill was tough, but downhill was one of the scariest riding moments I've ever - it was so steep that the back brake wouldn't hold the bike, so it was engine off, first gear, both feet down, and gently on the front brake and clutch... I finally made it to Tanah Rata feeling quite accomplished - this area is fairly well populated, so even if I got the bike stuck, there would have been plenty of people to help out. Again, the Transalp showed what a fantastic machine it is - scratching at 100+kmh one minute, and chugging up steep dirt tracks the next.

How the hell did I get up here in the first place???

There's only one word for the Cameron Highlands - fantastic! It's a hill station in the middle of Malaysia with stunning scenery, especially the tea plantations that cover most of the hillsides. It's a local base for a lot of trekking, and with hindsight it would have been fun to stop a few more days and join one of the trips. The Cameronian Inn provides excellent accommodation - A/C isn't necessary because it's about 10 degrees cooler that the rest of Malaysia, and the rooms were spotless with great linen and running hot water... There was a BMW F650 with UK plates in the car park there, but I didn't get to meet the owner unfortunately. I left him a can of WD40 and some tie-downs - part of my effort to gradually shed a bit more weight from the bike. If I haven't used it for a couple of weeks and it's not critical to my survival, there's no space for it on the caravan... I met up with Nash from CS in the evening - he's a local guide and was able to tell me a lot about the area.

Cameron Highlands - officially the highest concentration of Land Rovers in the world

On 14 February I wished the bike a happy valentines day, and took off to explore the Highlands. The highest point is Batur Brinchang, which can be reached by motorbike, although there's not much view from the top because at 2,077m, it's still covered with thick jungle. I stopped at the Boh tea factory at Sungai Palas which was very interesting - very colonial, and still using the 1930s machinery. After that, another 50 miles or so of perfect biking roads - first the C7 to Blue Valley, and then the A181 to Ipoh. Again, the A181 on the map is unfinished, but this one is perfect tarmac all the way.

Boh Tea - puts the Ummph! in life, apparently...

From Ipoh, I took the highway (E1) to Penang because it was already 5pm, and I crossed the causeway to George Town at dusk. Other bikers had recommended the Blue Diamond on Chulia Street - it's an incredible old building that used to be the headquarters of the British Administration (although the decor's a little faded now). When I asked if they had a secure place for me to park the bike, they insisted that I park it in the lobby. I got a few surprised glances as I rode through the bar and reception and parked up in front of the shrine...

The Transalp takes its rightful place...

George Town is a bustling city with a ton of history and a really thriving backpacker scene. It's a far cry from the 18 year olds in Brisbane, and a lot of the backpackers here are in their 50s or 60s. Once again, I found a friendly local through CS, and Kindra introduced me to the local cuisine and the bar scene down at Batu Feringgi. Plan is to stay a couple of nights here - after such a long lay-up without the bike, I was keen to push on through Malaysia, but I'm starting to realise it's a fantastic country and there's a lot to experience here.

Note: for anyone importing a motorcycle into Singapore, here's the definitive process:

1. Get 3rd party insurance for Singapore. This is available for S$135 from the AA in Singapore, but is much cheaper if purchased in Malaysia. I got mine from UniAsia in Johor Bahru for 68RM (about S$35), but they only accept cash...

2. Take your passport, registration, carnet and insurance certificate to Rosie Chan at the AA at 336 River Valley Road. She will issue an ICP (S$10) and stamp the back of your carnet. But you must know the exact date the bike will be collected from the port

3. Take all the documents to the LTA at 10 Sin Ming Drive to collect an Autopass card (S$10)

4. Go to the office of your shipping company to pay various charges (S$170) and collect a delivery order

5. Take the delivery order to the Auxilliary Police Station at the port to obtain a port entry pass (S$4 - must pay by Singaporean CashCard, but someone in the queue should be able to lend one to you)

6. Go to the warehouse, hand over more money for further random charges (S$65 for forklifting???), and collect bike

7. Jump the queue of lorries at the customs post, get the carnet stamped, and hit the road

Please, please, please can I have my bike back?

4 weeks without the bike has been a bit frustrating, but on the bright side, it gave me a chance to explore Bali which I would not otherwise have had. It's a very cool place and far exceeded my expectations. With hindsight, I wish I had shipped the bike to Timor and ridden the length of Indonesia, but it was hard to research because very few people have done it. Turns out the sea crossings between islands are short and frequent, so it would be very doable (although Indonesian ferries don't have the best safety record).

My Bali wheels - economical

I managed to cover most of Bali on my trusty Yamaha Mio with my backpack between my knees. Very nippy and practical, although I think the Transalp just edges it in terms of power, speed, carrying capacity, off-road ability... My borrowed helmet had the structural integrity of a margarine tub, although it was good for keeping the rain off (and when rains here, it really rains). Overall, the quality of driving in Bali isn't bad - there's plenty of mad overtaking, especially by the cars, but the roads are relatively quiet, the speeds are low, and people are very courteous. On the crazy scale, I'd give them a 4 (for calibration - the English score a 2 and the Australians a 1, which is just plain boring).

Traditional dancer in Candidasa (where child labour laws are clearly fairly relaxed)

I finally submitted to my tourist curiosity and went to a restaurant offering a display of local dancing. At 10pm, out came a dancer that couldn't have been more than 11 years old, which smacked a little of child exploitation. But on reflection, when I was that age I was out at 6am doing a paper round in the filthy English weather (thanks mum).

Alex in Sanur

But all good things come to an end - the $4 massages were losing their novelty, as were the endless plates of Nasi Goreng. I got back into Singapore on Thursday (thanks once again to Shri for putting me up), only to discover that the ship carrying my bike to Singapore be a couple of days late and not arrive until Sunday 8th - I felt like a kid who'd been told that Christmas was being postponed by a couple of days. So I took myself off to Melaka for the weekend - it's only a couple of hours from Singapore. On the way, I was able to get 15 quid bike insurance, instead of the 60 quid that they wanted on the Singapore side of the border, which pleased me no end.

Melaka is a lot of fun - I'm staying at the Travellers Lodge which is a clean and trendy backpackers hostel. Some of the tourist attractions are a bit lame - the "sound and light" show consisted of a couple of spotlights and a voice-over that is cheesy even by SE Asian standards. However, the bar scene is good, and at Pure Bar the locals soon took me under their wing and plied me with brandy. People in Malaysia seem to be completely obsessed with the English Premier League, to the extent that practically every bar and restaurant shows a constant stream of games, which provides a very easy icebreaker... I ended up at a peculiar karaoke bar where the girls were given sashes after each song with '$100' or '$300' - the 'hooker' alert was sounding, but it was all very surreal, and I'm still not sure exactly what was going on (although the brandy probably has something to do with that).

Pimp my ride - Malaysia style

The food in Malaysia is a bit more challenging than Bali - in the spirit of adventure, and also to toughen the old system up, I ordered the chicken livers for breakfast yesterday, which was a mistake... on the plus side, the traditional cuisine in Melaka is called Nonya, which is excellent - can't beat a bit of shrimp paste and chilli!

So... fingers crossed that the bike (and all the accessories) are waiting for me in Singapore tomorrow. First of all I've got to tackle the ridiculous Singaporean bureaucracy - I think I've outsmarted them with the Malaysian insurance, but I still need to get the carnet stamped by customs, pick up an International Circulation Permit from the AA and an Autopass card from the Land Transit Authority - just to ride for about 20km to get the hell out of Singapore.