Waterlogged

What at first was perceived as exciting and adventurous, has turned into a national natural disaster, as the aftermath of the typhoon which hit the Philippines, has hugely affected the area in which I am currently based.

While pulling my feet through drifting muddy water in the streets of Siem Reap, attempting to keep the flip-flops on,  locals smile and laugh. Three girls sit elevated on piles of bags encasing stone chippings, which attempt to prevent the overflowing river from penetrating their quay-side home. Stalled cars are pushed onto side walks, while pick up trucks tear through the knee high floods making the  water lap onto sidewalks. Kids jump off bridges and drift down the river; while others use a single flip-flop to swipe water away from their parents’ local business. Locals continue with their daily chores, food shopping and trading in the spared market; risking their sole source of income driving their tuk-tuks and motorbikes through knee-high water ferrying tourists about town; while continuously donning smiles, exuding enthusiasm and simply getting on with life.

It feels as though we’re in a bubble, as the hostel staff are unable to respond to our queries or verbalise the gravity of the situation which lies at the doorstep to the city. Over breakfast, I encountered a teacher who works for the British International School in Siem Reap. I pounced at the opportunity to ask him the many questions milling around in my mind. He confirmed that a few villages have been wiped out; flood plains have merged into one and that anyone cycling, should wait at least 3-5 days before attempting the road that heads to Phnom Penh…

Over a bowl of chicken- pumkin, curry soup the Cambodian retaurant owner, who had grown up in France, confirmed that this is the first time that the river has broken its bank, sweeping century-old trees down stream. As the level of the water continues to rise gently throughout the city as  it persists on running down from the northerly mountains; thankfully the rain turned to drizzle around midday, and by late afternoon a patch of blue sky was visible.

Wild West

After having seen photos and read disasterous reports regarding the road conditions in Cambodia, I had mixed feelings regarding the road ahead. I imagined a South-East Asian version of Bolivia. To my great surprise, the road has been recently redone, and is immaculate: hardshoulder, no potholes and infrequent traffic. However, the rules of the road have changed dramatically from Thailand and are exhausting! Right hand side cycling; cars, trucks, buses, motorbikes beep constantly; drivers overtake whenever they feel like it;  and cyclists are not a priority. Needless to say, the rising of the middle finger has become quite a regular occurance, as drivers coming from the opposite direction charge me off the road. Ironically, my gutt feeling prefers this wild behaviour to the more calm, controlled and behaved Thai drivers; for it makes me feel that everything is possible here and that the no problem I heard so frequently in South America is alive and vibrant in these parts.

Given that pretty much all the roads leading off the main artery are gritty tracks, the hardshoulder hosts a sprinkling of mud and soil. As rain began to spill down from the heavens, the mud was back-lashed all over me, transforming my apprearance into that of an absolute wild woman. By the time I arrived into the town of Sisophon, after dark, I had mud into my ears!

Sisophon was a dead town that Sunday evening, the only place open to eat had a stage, with a backdrop depicting New York, strobe lights flashing and girls clad in tight shiny skirts singing. Unlike what you’re probably thinking, it was no strip joint, but a fancy restaurant in town whose specialty is a delicious seafood tom yam soup.

Having read up on Battambang,  Cambodia’s second largest city adorned with French architecture, I decided to veer south off the main road leading to Siem Reap, home to Angor Wat. Contrary to Vientianne,  (I was expecting the cities share similarities), Battambang is a vibrant and hectic city with motorbikes zooming around the place, people everywhere going about various businesses, and lovely tuk-tuk drivers trailing tourists simply for a chat!

In addition to visiting this city, a 6hr boat trip through floating villages up to Siem Reap was a huge incentive. Bright and early this morning, a small group of us boarded a slow motor boat that weaved its way first along the river bed, then through a combination of paddies and marsh land; and finally we cut across the north western corner of the lake Tonle Sap which lies to the south of Siam Reap. Throughout the boat trip, locals were observed fishing and washing in the river; kids went crazy over waving to us; and beautiful floating villages were traversed.

Unlike the Uros Islands on Lake Titicaca which consist of floating islands hosting a cluster of reed houses, these floating villages include a cluster of individual floating houses, built from wood. All lie on a single storey, respond to the movement of the river, have hammocks swinging inside, open kitchens, simple decorations and a simple blue and white wooden boat which serves as a means of transport.

Pulling into the terrain-vague used as a dockland  10km outside Siem Reap, the boat was pounced upon (before docking) by tuk-tuk drivers  eager to get fresh buisness from the tourists on board. I was glad to be left alone to set the bike up for a beautiful cycle into town, along a densely populated yet lush road: probably the most beautiful road cycled as of yet on this trip.

Pedalling East

Leaving Bangkok was a lot more difficult than anticipated, not because of the hectic traffic and pretzel-like roads, but because of the especially generous, comforting and happy time I had staying with star hosts Dee and Phil.

Bangkok became a true home with lazy morning shared between enjoying a lengthy muesli & yoghurt breakfast, and reading or catching up on the latest Entourage series. A wander into town or meeting for lunch with Reto,  fellow Swiss cyclist encountered at the airport, would ensue; followed by afternoon wandering and reading; le tout gently wrapped up by a homey evening spent in Dee and Phi’s heart warming company.

The train was chosen as the easiest option to exit the urban jungle. With the bike tucked under a sink in the train controllers office, we gently rolled through Bankok’s back streets and people’s back gardens, passengers hopped on and off as pleased. As the concrete faded and vegetation took over, the train sped up, stopping at the most unexpected locations including the middle of road crossings, somewhere along a string of rice paddies, and at occasional charming train stations.

Having planned to disembark at a relatively big town, the train controller recommended I stay on until the last stop in the small town of Kabin Buri, where accommodation and food are available. Arriving at dark, I was surprised to find a top notch hotel for 3dollars and an abundant food market. Needless to say, I was a happy camper!

It’s been raining a fair amount recently which has been a blessing in disguise, as roasting temperatures have dropped, cloud cover obstructs the sizzling rays and an ongoing gentle breeze is generated. It’s helped hugely with the cycling (though it seems as though this statement may come back and bite me in the bum, as I cycled through my first flooded road today…), as I found myself at the Cambodian border he following morning earlier than expected.

The border is hectic. Four wooden posts holding a tin roof house the visa upon arrival office, where three men sit on a row of used bus seats writing up visa applications. This surprisingly extremely efficient business has passports ready to go within 10mins. After passing through the Thai border control , cycling alongside a stream of local merchants, and having my temperature scanned, I had trouble finding the Cambodian immigration office. It transpires that the Cambodia government have built as many casino’s as possible before their official border control to encourage Thai’s to get a day pass and gamble away within this area! For those of your from the Geneva region, Poipet is definitely a kitchy, nouveau-riche and run down version of Divonne!

Visa Run

Greetings from the capital of the Lao People’s Democratic Republic, Vientianne! No, I did not cycle up here Road Runner style. I had to fly out of Thailand to do, what is more commonly known to the local backpacker as: a ‘visa-run’. Given that I entered the Land of Smiles via land (train) I was given a 2 week visa, as opposed to the regular 30day visa acquired upon arrival by plane.

Leaving the bike and equipment in Bangkok, I boarded the flight to Vientianne a couple of days ago. Having heard a lot of things about Luang Prabang, a city located in the north of Loas, I had hoped to catch an overnight bus from Vientianne the same day. The bus station was my first port of call upon arrival, a dusty open square with a few dishevelled looking buses parked, and being loaded with motorcycles, caged ducks, mannequin torso’s, and huge sacks. Brief visions and memories of Boliva floated back to mind, rendering this space vaguely familiar.

After buying a ticket for the overnight bus, I tuk-tuked my way into town; discovering a small, cosy and tranquil capital…and a cluster of mouth watering patisserie’s! After treating myself to a Pain au chocolat et pistachio, I wondered along the Mekong riverfront- a wild, muddy and not tended-to waterfront- a scenery which was truly refreshing. Heading back to the bus station, just in time to board the bus; I overheard rumours of a bridge having collapsed that morning on the road to Luang Prabang…

Thinking nothing much of this news, the bus pulled out of the station. As we left the city behind us, beautiful lush scenery took over; the air cooled down (which stopped my skin from ‘peeling’ off the plastic seat everytime I moved); the sun shone its last golden rays before giving way to a beautifully star-lit sky. Once again, memories of nights spent star-gazing in South America drifted in. The bus pulled over about 2hrs into the journey for a pit stop; everyone hopped out and went about their business in the surrounding darkness. It took me a while to avoid bumping into people and finding my own quiet spot away from the headlights! Back on board and 10mins later, the bus pulled up again; this time behind a queue of trucks and buses… Indeed the bridge on the only road up to Luang Prabang had collapsed that morning, and all traffic was at a stand still!

It was understood that we were going to spend the night on the bus and wait until an alternative method of crossing the river was put into place for (rumours had it…) 8a.m. the following morning. Curious to see the damage, I walked alongside the frozen traffic; small, interspersed bars where a huge amount of beer Lao was being consumed; and was disappointed to discover a police barrage which obstructed the site. With nothing much else to do, and still nursing a bit of a rusty hangover from the previous night, I figured I may as well get some sleep.

No progress was sensed the following morning as rumours continued to state different times of re-opening, so I figured I may as well head back to Vientianne and make the most of getting to know the capital. With my bag in hand, I jumped ship and hitchhiked my way back into town where I’m now gently easing into the piping hot, capital’s way of life!

Land of Smiles

Discovering Hua Hin’s surrounding sights and attractions on the back of Kees’ impressive chopper (literally!) was great craic! We fed ferocious-looking monkeys on Hua Hin’s monkey mountain, ate lunch in a beautiful and tranquil resort tucked away and off the beaten track, admired Thailand’s largest pilgrimage site which houses a huge statue of the wisest Buddha, enjoyed a spectacular view overlooking Hua Hin from the bird sanctuary, and wrapped things up by washing down a refreshing Singha beer on the waterfront.

The following day I ventured up to Bangkok by bus, for the thought of having to avoid highways (which are the main arteries entering the city) and navigate through dense traffic into the capital turned me off. Instead, I ended up pulling into a random bus station which I was convinced was the Southern Bus terminal. With a map in hand, the cycling shoes popped on and the helmet firmly clipped I ventured off in, what I thought was, the right direction. I soon realised that the roads did not correlate with my map… Luckily a young guy on a scooter spoke brilliant english and made me realise that I in a completely different area than I thought! He led me through a maze of streets until we hit the main artery running down town to Siam square (equivalent of Time Square i guess). Cycling through Bangkok was an absolute adrenaline rush, the traffic is so dense that I ended up  following scooters and slaloming between cars and sporadically driven buses.  It was great fun and would definitely recommend it…for a short run!

Meeting up with Dee & discovering her and Phil’s down town pad was fantastic! I’ve spent the past few days sleeping in ironically luxurious conditions with cooling airconditioning and a super comfy duvet to wrap myself in =) I love it! Mornings have been spent pottering around, before delving into the city’s bussle. The older, more historical areas of the city consist in a cluster of small streets, with back-to-back traffic congestion, people everywhere, food markets lining alleyways, Buddhist temples tucked away, and a range of appetizing to nauseating smells! Little tourism was done, given that I had visited most sites on my previous visit to Bangkok; however I eagerly revisited the impressively beautiful reclining Buddha; meandered through Chinatown; and window-shopped around Siam square. Also, an afternoon was spent lying by the Marriott pool (thanks Dee!), and to top the week off, Phil and D gave me a super taster of the Bangkok nightlife!

3 days, 300km

The past three days have been spent: waking up at 5.30 a.m.; oats & soy milk for brekkie; on the bike by 7 a.m.,; pedalling methodically; taking about 3 snack, drink and stretch breaks; reaching the next town before the sun begins to become unbearable around midday.

Bang Saphan- Prachuap Khiri Khan- Hua Hin were the three main stops of the past three days. The first day was spent meandering along coastal roads, huge stretches of beach which are absolutely stunning, monkey sanctuaries (though the monkeys were no where to be seen…?) and being chased by my first vicious dogs! Over the three days I seem to have developed a new vocal expression, or rather shout, which appears to surprise and stun chasing dogs, who once they hear my shout instantly look ashamed of what they’re doing and retrace their steps. Needless to day, I have recieved weird looks from people who watch me do this!

Noi, a Thai girl who works in a local guesthouse, offered for me to camp by her house just outside Bang Saphan. Her ‘boyfriend’ collected us from town in a pick up truck after having collected about 15 men from work (pick up trucks do rounds to drive people to and from work, as a job). The bike was wedged between the men, as Noi and myself hopped into the cool, airconditioned drivers compartment. Turning off the main road, onto dust trails, surrouded by a wild jungle of greenery we wound our way to Noi’s home. As things go in these parts, grandparents, parents, children and grandchildren all live under the same roof. I never quite understood who was related to who, but the house was crowded. After a refreshing shower, I was submitted by the women of the house to a series of ‘most frequently asked questions’: how old are you? Are you married? Do you have babies?; while the men sipped on beer and took bets on my age.

After sleeping like a baby, I had trouble finding weaving my way out from Noi’s neighbourhood, for the lush surrounding environment appearsed to be pretty much the same everywhere! This experience reminded me of numerous conversations shared with the Revolution Cycle Team boys in South America, where we attempted to grasp reading and understanding different landscapes. We are so used to and conditioned to having street names, written direction and noticeable, name-able landmarks; that when faced with natural landmarks, it become much more difficult for us to identify and master direction. This was certainly the case that morning! Thankfully a couple on a motorcycle were able to direct me out of green maze.

Prachuap Kiri Khan turned out to be an unexpected gem. It is a small and calm fishing village, overlooking the sea. A beautiful monastery built on a natural rock formation, towers of the town; and surrounding this monastery are the most amount of monkeys I have ever seen!! Warnings of monkey attacks are posted everywhere, it seems as though the key thing is: don’t carry food! Given that my clothes currently smell like food (yes, clothes maintenance and general hygiene are difficult to prioritise on such a trip), I kept a safe distance but thoroughly enjoyed watching them monkey-around;)

Arriving in Hua Hin, the St Tropez of Thailand (it seems) yesterday was so rewarding. I was completely exhausted  and dehydrated after pushing through three days straight; but was truly compensated by being welcomed by Kees and Jan-Erik, old friends from home =) After being treated to a delicious seafood meal over looking the sea, a  deep tissue Thai massage by Kees’ neighbour, snuggling up in a comfy couch to watch a chilled out dvd, playing nintendo wii, and being introduced to Kees’ home ‘extension’ (pub down the road), I literally collapsed into a deep slumber.

Backpacker Paradise- Koh Tao

Koh Tao Island was a stop which I had been really looking forward to, with the prospect of diving and completely relaxing on a stereotypical paradisiac island, which is described as being the ‘least touristy’ and most quiet of the three islands (Koh Samui & Koh Pha-Ngang) in the Gulf of Thailand. The island is bigger than I expected it to be; and certainly much more touristy than I could have ever imagined. After being off the beaten track (so to speak) I was shocked to find a backpacker and tourist safe haven, where prices are quadrupled, and all infrastructure and amenities cater to the predominantly western & Australian tourism industry. I got the impression that next to nothing is geared towards Thai people and I wonder to this day whether local inhabitants of the island, continue to live on the island without having to cater to the tourism industry?

Koh Tao introduced me to a different facet of Thailand which is (apparently) truly up and running along the backpacker trail in this country. After 24hrs on the island, catching up with Claire B, Virginie and Hania from home =) I felt ready to return to a more tranquil, adventurous and less familiar space, cycling up the Thai coast.

Lost in Trainslation

I’m currently in Chomphun after a whirlwind of a week. Following a 24hr stop over in KL, an overnight train was taken to Southern Thailand (Hat Yai). The chilled out train ride I was looking forward to, turned into being a sleepless night spent twisting, turning, crouching and slumping on an upright seat. Neon lights blazed, passengers practiced their unrelenting gift of the gab; and if it weren’t for Andy’s great company, I think I would have jumped the train half way through!

Arriving in Hat Yai, feeling slightly delirious and completely zoned out, I figured I may as well begin to cycle the road ahead, rather than lose a day by checking into a hotel for a good snooze. 110km later, as the sun was gently setting and casting a delicate shadow by my side, I rolled into Pattalung. For some reason, I had an unexplicable (and unexcusable) preconcieved idea that the majority of Thai’s would understand and speak basic english. This is not the case, and was confronted for the first time in years, with complete and utter lack of verbal communication skills. Hence finding a decent place to sleep turned into a bit of a quest in itself.

Being lost in translation has become a regular affair. Each ‘conversation’ begins with a combination of words, sounds and mime met with blank looks from both parties. I have found Thai people to be exceedingly helpful, kind, and respectful, leaving no conversation or query incomplete. Through a natural combination of patience, perseverance and laughter, we have always come to some sort of understanding; which, in return, is met with a mutual and shared sense of satisfaction, appreciation and respect of the other. These moments are priceless; each encounter becomes a shared moment, an enriching exchange which is stored away delicately.

Back on the bike the following morning, I was slugging away feeling the lack of sleep catching up with me. Arriving in Sung Thong (target cycling point of the day), I decided to see if there was a bus station which would bring me straight up to my next and final point of cycling in Southern Thailand, Surat Thani. After following a big bus, James Bond style, through the city (at a professional spy’s distance), I discovered that there is no bus to Surat Thani! But that the one train of the day was going to pull out from the station in the next 10mins.

Retracing the revolutions, I threw my bike and self into the open luggage compartment at the front of the train as it pulled out of the station. Firm negotiations ensued between myself and the conductor of the train regarding the price I should pay for having the bike on board…The train’s security guard was finally called upon to settle the case: needless to say, the sight of his hand gun tucked comfortably under his belt made me drop the case instantly! Thereafter, we all exchanged snacks, water and snippets of mime, words and laughter!

That evening, I found myself rolling into Surat Thani, once again with my shadow keeping up alongside me.

Malaysia

Melaka turned out to be the perfect spot in which to enjoy a rest day with its manageable size, beautiful historical town centre that reflects Chinese, Dutch, British and Portuguese influences, and tasty Peranakan food =). Funnily enough, I didn’t really know what to do with myself with an entire day off the bike, but quickly eased into a more relaxed and touristy mode.

Before I knew it, I was back on the bike the following day with the aim to reach the last city which lies just outside of Kuala Lumpur (KL) called Seremban, via the …express carriageway! I figured that the chances of meeting the same two cops were next to none, given that I was in a new region (thankfully this turned out to be the case!). Pulling over in a rest area just before the exit to Seremban, I was lucky to find a huge double decker bus doing a pit stop with a lovely bus driver who gladly threw my bike and gear into the back of the bus. Perched on the top deck, front row, munching on snacks, I kicked back and enjoyed observing the landscape roll by- Kuala Lumper materialised stamping out palm tree plantations, while traffic became chaotic.

Kuala Lumpur proved me wrong- my sense of direction is null! Constantly disoriented, to the point of ending up in Little India (NW) instead of KL Central Station (SW), and having to ask waiters after only one beer- ‘where am I?’ (met with disbelief and laughter from surrounding backpackers…); I was pleasantly surprised by its manageable size, winding and bustling downtown streets, contrasting modern high rise buildings  and lavish malls. I was thrilled to spend a full day discovering the city accompanied by Caroline: we enjoyed a splendid view of the Petronas Twin towers from the Traders Hotel Sky Bar & Spa (…and regretted we didn’t bring our swimming togs for a quick dip!); wandered through Little India;  tasted delicious pork &plum sauce dimsum; and ate the stickiest noodles I’ve ever tasted! It was truly refreshing to share experiences, views and questions that have been milling around in my mind;  it was like spending quality time with a friend I had known for years.

 

Following a bussling day, I cycled through the absolute mayhem of Malaysia’s capital city winding up on huge avenues unable to turn back caught between unrelenting traffic and unyielding cars and motorcycles. I finally made it to KL central station where a sleepless train ride to Thailand lay ahead…

Adventurous Beginnings

Needless to say, I was quite apprehensive leaving the comfort and safety of Singapore after such a fabulous few days. But what appeared to be a potential first challenge, crossing the Garden City to the Malaysian border, turned out to be a breeze.  A personalised GPS (Thanks Wil!) mapped out a perfectly enjoyable and straight forward route which brought me through residential followed by an industrial area of the city. Surrounded by civilised drivers, little traffic and vast avenues lined with greenery; cycling through this city was an absolute delight! 

Crossing into Malaysia at Johor (via the motorcycle designated checkpoint!), the scenery became a little more of a concrete jungle with roads crossing over one another, a hotch-potch of buildings and a hint of free-styling driving skills. I opted for the quickest route to Kuala Lumpur via the ‘express carriageway’, made sure there were no signs forbidding bicycles, and trudged-away along the hard shoulder along with all the motorcycles. I saw my first live pack of large monkeys!! along with other unusual animals: iguanas, snakes, bats- all of whom seem to have made me put camping on the long-finger!

 

After buying a map over lunch, I quickly realised that there are very few R&R stops along the carriageway; and given that it runs slightly inland, few towns and villages run alongside it making food and water a bit of a problem. Exiting at the next point, I was fortunate to stumble across the small provincial town of Simpang Renggam where a Chinese family runs the local Guest House. Over tea and beancurd  biscuits, it transpired that the owners’ daughter studied hotel management in Switzerland! That night I fell into a deep sleep, basked by the local Muslim call to prayer. 

Up bright and early, I was surprised to find my host waiting downstairs eager to introduce me to two of his friends and share a cup of sweet tea. A few words and lots of smiles exchanged, I hopped back on the bike with a new found motivation and ease. Zooming along the carriageway, it soon was time for the much anticipated choc-chip cookies :) While munching away in a rest area, (after having been handed a Malaysian beach holiday brochure by some random driver!) a police car drove up and stopped beside me… Two super nice and funny police officers politely informed me that (…ahem…) it’s not permitted to cycle along the Malaysian express carriageway. ‘Incredulous’ at this news, we tried to think of alternatives ways of getting me to the next exit: a free ride in the back of a local cop pick up truck!

It was wonderful to cycle along small roads, discovering small communities and varied landscapes. An old Chinese man entertained me over lunch with his pimped out bike- mic, loadspeaker and a variety of blaring horns. 20mins were spent lying under a corrogated iron shelter watching the rain drops fall. Malaysia’s best coffee 434 was sampled with salted butter & coconut spread on toast. Last night I was basked asleep in Muar by the local Chinese ‘band practice’…

Today I reached Melaka, a beautiful historical city on the Western Malaysian coast! A rest day is in order tomorrow as I’m tired and eager to discover this city. I wonder what sound will bask me to sleep this evening…reste a voir =)