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| Cycling is fun in Southeast Asia; it has become
a way of life for me. I can't even imagine a trip
without my bike. I have had many adventures and
lots of great experiences. There are so many new
things to see and learn from. This story is just
a glimpse of what I have done, how I have felt
and where I have gone:- |
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| Boxing Day 2006, I was lying in a bed. It was
cold, the kind of cold you get on crisp English
mornings in winter time. I was wrapped in my guest
house blanket, a blanket of dubious history. These
are the kind of things you must deal with when
you are cycle touring, or backpacking, around
Southeast Asia. Blankets and sheets in guest houses
often give you a strong indication of the economics
of the guest house you are staying in. If the
bed linins are old, dirty or smelly then it doesn't
bode well for your stay. If the blankets or sheets
are crisp, clean and new (ish) then your stay
may be full of care and attention. I have found
that the blanket rule often supersedes the pricing
rule, prices do not necessarily reflect the quality
of your stay. |
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| My journey to this blanket had begun on khao
San Road in Bangkok. I had battled through the
Bangkok heat, pollution and traffic on my bicycle.
This is never a safe or healthy thing to do, but
it is a necessary journey. I boarded my train
to Nong Khai at Hualompong Station as I was heading
for the Plain of Jars in central Laos, close to
the town of Phonasavan. My cycling would start
in earnest in the northeastern Thai town of Nong
Khai. The journey had been planned for months;
my goal was to see the mysterious jars of central
Laos. |
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| Getting off the sleeper train in the cool morning
haze of northern Thailand, I collected my bicycle
from the front luggage compartment and assembled
the various parts (panniers, bungee cords etc.).
The ride to the border point was a gentle 4 Km.
The Laos border crossing was as user friendly
as any good border crossing in the region. Everything
is detailed for you with clear instructions and
the wait for the slow bureaucratic clogs of the
immigration police is minimal. |
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| The ride into Vientiane was excellent. The welcome
from the people is always good. You pass the Beer
Laos factory on your right after about 10Km. This,
after my first visit to Laos 10 years ago, was
to become a place of worship and awe. I stopped
and took some photos, I already have plenty of
photos from previous trips, I just can't help
myself. This time I went on the tour of the brewery.
The free samples went down well and provided an
excellent break for my ride into Vientiane. Beer
Laos truly is one of the worlds great largers. |
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| The ride into Vientiane is a relaxed affair;
you pass the old communist work slogans on advertising
boards on the way into the sleepy capital city.
These act as a reminder that you have entered
a 'workers' paradise', although I doubt Marx would
agree with the 21st century version of his dream. |
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| The local folk are very unobtrusive in the
interest in a |
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| western cyclist
riding through their neighborhood. Vientiane is one
of my favorite capitals in the world, primarily because
you feel the lack of bustle and hustle of the place;
you get the sense that the tumbleweed will float passed
at any second. The place is small, there are no high
rise developments (bar that huge new Chinese hotel)
and the place has a sleepy, relaxed feel to it. |
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| Leaving Vientiane
the next day, the ride to Phonasavan took me north to
Vang Vieng in a 2 day ride through the central plains
of Laos. The ride to Vang Vieng is flat and one of those
great little stretches where you can take a gentle pace,
stop and chat with the locals over a meal of rice and
fruit and feel good on a bike. There are no difficult
mountain stretches and the scenery is beautiful. |
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| Vang Vieng itself
nestles in between a few mountains and is an idealic
spot to stop and recharge for the coming ride to Phonasavan.
I stayed for 2 days as there is plenty to do, not least
the fun day out tubing down the river or taking in the
nearby caves and wonderful swimming in clear, fresh
lagoons. |
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| I set off early
on the next leg of the trip, the most difficult part
of this tour. This is a monster stage, much like the
Alp D'huez in the Tour de France. There is a 130Km ride
to Phu Khun in the mountains. The wind was blowing fiercely;
I was battling the head wind until the town of Kasi.
At Kasi the challenge began in earnest. Here each assent
to a higher plateau left me exhausted. At each peak
there was a Hmong village waiting to welcome me, invariably
selling the same lukewarm cola refreshments. The refreshments
were lacking, but the locals' reception definitely made
up for the lack of cool coca-cola. |
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| The day climaxed
in a stunning uphill section that really took my breath
away. About 10Km from my destination of Phu Khun I began
the final assent. I did run out of energy and water
at some point and had to stop by a mountain stream to
fill my water bottle. In the process I managed to scare
some Laotian ladies who were taking a wash in the stream,
naked. I don't know who was more embarrassed, the naked
Laos ladies or the sweaty, sun burnt, limping semi-naked
white boy. After both parties covered their dignities
we managed to have a chuckle and communicate together,
they even offered me some of their food. |
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| I have christened
this style of riding 'whirlwind riding' as you just
have to go at it as quickly as you can come-what-may.
I was definitely on my last reserves of strength, but
still I needed to get to the village and a bed. I had
to get on with the ride, there was no other option.
Everything was hurting me, but between the fresh water
and the stunning views across central Laos I was revitalized
enough to push on. |
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| Eventually I found
the down slope in the road and headed into Phu Khun
and I ventured into the first guest house that I found.
I took a look at the room, and the all important blanket,
and did the (not so) complex equation of cost vs comfort
vs tiredness. My legs made the decision for me, virtually
screaming at me that they couldn't go on to the other
guest house 100 meters down the road. |
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| And so it came
to pass that I awoke wrapped in the dubious blanket
on the cold, crisp Laotian mountain morning at the end
of December. I was being welcomed to the hills of Laos
at Christmas time by a smelly blanket and guest house
which didn't have a shower. The bed bugs had been kept
at bay by my sarong; my legs felt better but were still
aching a little. I stumbled out of my room, threw some
water over me from the bucket in the 'bath'room and
repacked my bike. |
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| The reason for
putting myself through the previous days' pain and the
ache in my legs really hit me when I cycled away from
the guest house; the air was fresh, the mountains surrounding
me looked like they had been taken from a movie set
and the roads were empty. I will never forget me exit
from Phu Khun, it was made even more special by the
locals who all waved and shouted 'sabaii dee' as I past.
It really does make you feel special and alive. |
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| I set off for
my destination, the town of Phonasavan nearly 140Km
away. The first assent of the day left me delirious
with joy, so much so I was laughing and sweating at
the top of the first peak. The views across the valley
which unfolded before me were spectacular. Any soreness
in my legs was replaced by adrenalin. The climbs continued,
punctuated, thankfully, by a few great descents. At
one point I descended 19Km in one long downward free
wheel. This is truly and exhilarating experience. These
kinds of days are what you start (and seemingly I can
never stop) cycling for; upward challenges, downward
enjoyment, stunning scenery and friendly local villages. |
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| The 140Km stretch
is punctuated by villages, both Hmong and central Laos
villages. I stopped at one point at a village which
seemed to be full of AK47 toting Laos army cadre. I
decided to have my morning tea (you can take the man
out of England but you can't take England out of the
man) in the middle of the village. I was immediately
surrounded by Laotian soldiers carrying guns. However,
the threat level did descend a few notches when I looked
down and most of them had dispensed with the customary
army uniform boots and instead were wearing flip flops.
These guys certainly didn't look menacing but there
was a threat in the air as they were all carrying guns,
albeit in a relaxed fashion, slung over their shoulders. |
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| Now, the situation
may seem to be a worrying to some as I was miles from
any main town, alone and surrounded by soldiers. However,
my survival skills were not required as, to a man, the
soldiers were laughing and goofing around. They were
obviously curious about my presence, but they soon settled
down, sat on their haunches and watched me brew my tea
from a polite distance. |
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| At one point I
opened my map and asked the guys where we were. The
most senior officer was pushed forward to answer my
question. Apparently the village wasn't on any map,
presumably for military reasons, but I am only speculating
about that as my Laos conversation skills are not what
they should be. |
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| After my tea I
packed up and handed my rubbish to a young lad who took
it and held it with a confused look on his face and
I rode off with the bemused military men staring at
me. |
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| My cycling was
becoming better; I was becoming used to the merciless
hills. I eventually stormed up the last hill. Getting
onto the plains of central Laos was a joy I have felt
only a few times in my life. I cycled into Phonasavan
at dusk, a tired, sweaty, aching cyclist nut with a
warm glint of joy in my eyes. I had battled with some
big mountain stages and I had won. |
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| My hotel was luxurious
in comparison to my previous night's encounter with
the blanket. I collapsed in my large bed and slept the
sleep of the dead. |
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| Early the next
morning I awoke and got out of bed with a bounce in
my step. This was the final leg of my tour, the finish
of my tour was within grasp. I asked at the reception
for directions, never underestimating my knack for geographical
embarrassment, and headed out. I soon found the road
and cycled the short distance in under an hour. I found
myself at the reception hut for the Jars and paid the
small entrance fee. Walking up the small slop and arriving
at the crest of the hill I caught my first glimpse of
a stone jar. The round, skewed, moss covered jar was
a sight that gave me a euphoric high. I enjoyed the
sight, but not as much as I had enjoyed the journey
to it. This trip was, as most are, about the journey,
not the destination. |
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| The jars are impressive
for their mystery, they are strange and intriguing.
The recent history of them is as interesting as the
speculation about the origins. There are hundreds of
these large man size stone jars strewn across the Laos
plains. No-one knows why they are there, and therein
lays the intrigue. |
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| Cycle touring
has become a way of life for me. I enjoy the sedate
pace of the bike; you get to see so much more of the
places you are traveling in. You also interact with
the locals more, often seeing a friendlier, and more
helpful side to a country or culture. Cycle touring
can be tiring, it can make your body ache, but cycling
is fun, healthy and a great way to see a country. |
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| About the author:
Simon Stewart is a cycling evangelist who has made
it his mission to spread the gospel through the excellent
tours he organizes. Check out www.silkwheels.com
for ideas on travel and a way of travelling you may
never have considered before. |
