Hua Hin

After another 120 odd kms yesterday, I finally reached the Mida de Sea hotel on Thailand's west coast for a couple of days back-pedalling. No girlie bars here than goodness.
This area is mostly a Thai tourist spot. The king has a palace down the road and there are some fancy resort hotels not far away, but the area does not have class.
I told the girl on recepton I wanted to go to the Kaeng Krachan National Park tomorrow (today), as mentioned in their room directory, the one full of animals and over 350 species of bird, in particular hornbills. She had no idea what I was talking about at first but then seemed to understand the words National Park. Then this man sidles up and starts talking to her in Thai. I said to him, Excuse me, I am not finished here yet (or, in other words, Butt out!). He turned to me, with great composure, and looked me straight in the eye (though he must have been sorely tempted to steal a look at my unruly 6 weeks old beard, which is now travelling so far down my neck it is linking up with my chest hair) and said, Yes sir, I realise that and I am trying to interpret for  you. (Though dressed in civvies, he was the manager!) He had her make some phone calls and assured me she would book it for me if I could be ready for 8am, which I readily agreed to.
So I was rather excited this morning when the air-conditioned mini bus arrived on time. National Park?, asked the driver. That's it, I replied. We drove to another hotel where we picked up some more people and the guide. To get acquainted, I asked the guide whether he was actually an expert on birds. He said no, not really, but in any case, there not many birds in the Khao Sam Roi National Park. What? I want to go to the Kaeng Krachan park, see the hornbills!! Ah yes, you would see hornbills there but we are heading south to see a throne and a pineapple farm.
It was actually not bad. We started at a fisherman's village, then took a boat round a headland to walk to a height of 450m up a mountain side, catching a glimpse of some Dusky Langurs, (the monkeys that appear to be wearing glasses), and then descending into an enormous cavern in which a beautiful tetrahedron, royal pavilion is sited, lit up from above.

Heading south.

To avoid cycling the same route twice, we caught the public bus back down to Kachanaburi (of Bridge over River Kwai fame). Our aim was to skirt round the south west of  Bangkok and head for the coast.
The first morning we kept to the quiet side of the river and yet came across a temple complex (Wat Tum Seu) which as we approached in the misty morning light could have come straight out of a Disney film.

Death Railway

I had every reason to feel on top of the world this morning. Any ideas why? It is not hard to work it out if you have been following my Facebook page.

Thursday, Feb 5
Two days ago, our cycling brought us to Kachanaburi, famous for the Bridge over the River Kwai. Despite the town now catering for those who are reluctant to leave behind their usual cravings, cycling across the railway bridge - a bit tricky - felt rather momentous, most especially after visiting the Thai-Burma Railway Museum. This railway, the so-called Death Railway, was built on the lives of nearly 100,000 men. Asians made up the vast majority of this figure and, hard as it is to imagine, suffered the worst.
Part of the railway is still in use but nowadays a massive dam at the confluence of 3 rivers has submerged a long length of it.This is roughly where we have cycled to today, over rolling hills, the River Kwai our companion, with mountainous National Reserves and Sanctuaries to left and right.
Despite the unreserved friendliness of everyone we meet, few English follow the roads we are cycling in Thailand; perhaps for this reason, hardly any English is spoken. Signs (and frequently menus, too) are mostly in Sanskrit. So it is difficult to find the answers to our many questions - about the Buddha and the ubiquitous temples, the names of birds we see, the crops they are growing or even what is it we are eating?
I know it was a pit viper I very nearly cycled over in Sukhottai, the 2 metre snake some young men had caught on the roadside was a copper headed rat snake and the distinctive birdcall we hear everywhere is of the Common Myna bird. I think we now also can recognise fields of tapioca, sweet potato and of course sugar cane.
However, on the flight over we saw a Tourism film about the many types of Hornbills in Thailand. It is our hope that we will yet get to see one.
Today we cycled 72 km to a little town further up the river called Thong Phu Phum. I had to change some dollars for baht in the bank. I had forgotten to take my passport. One would expect to be shown the door; instead, the staff tried to find a solution. They used the ID card of the doorman. Smiles all round.
We ourselves cannot tell the difference but we do know that there are in these parts near the border quite a number of tribespeople who have fled Myanmar. So it is common in this pleasant little town to find more varied food and the sale of crafts and jewellery made by the Mons tribespeople.
Steps from the town lead down to a wooden bridge from which one can appreciate the fast current of the Kwai and cross over to the large temples on the other side. They are built on the mountainside, easily visible from the town, especially when lit up at night. When I walked around at about 6pm, monastic music calmly filled the still air, while some of the monks prayed in a small chapel. Ironically, the spell was penetrated by the barking of some of the dogs. They seem to be everywhere in Thailand, not, it might often seem, cared off but not mistreated either.

Friday
Rising up out of the town at 7am, feeling a little chilly at 16 degrees, we were soon past the 37 (give or take 1 or 2) large statues of the Lord Buddha, leaving the river for a while as we rode through hillsides covered in thick jungle, except where frequently clearance had, or is, taking place to grow crops.
Our next view of water was a dazzling view of the large lake, edged by floating houses. We were not far now from Songkla buri, the last town before the Myanmar border, but first we had a beastly climb to contend with.
We have found beds at Jays, a very clean and pleasant spot. I think that at £2 for the night it has been my cheapest stay so far. There are several bridges over the water here, one being the second largest wooden bridge in the world. Naturally we had to cycle over it and then share the magic of the sunset with the mainly Thais milling around.
A fine day was rounded off with wonderful Burmese food at the Burmese Inn.

Change of plan

The exhilerating 52km descent fron Pakson on the Bolaven Plateau to Pakse, by the Mekong, was broken only by a walk down to one of many waterfalls and a stop for coffee.
We had more or less decided to avoid Vietnam and felt vindicated when Mitje and Mitze told us that the roadbuilding all over the country was making travel very diappointing. Instead we had agreed to head to the north of Laos. We booked spaces on the overnight sleeper to Ventiane, arriving there this morning at 6.30.
First stop was a bike shop and then we headed north. We,ve cycled about 120kms today, to a delightful town by the river.there aremeetings being held by various NGOs so finding beds proved very difficult.

On top of the Bolaven Plateau

There had to be a sting in the tale, and there was. The cycling and scenery had been too good. Leaving Sekong, where there were a no. of options for overnight, we felt good enough to carry on at least another 25 kms to Thane Beng. This was the point from where we could turn to start the 1250m climb onto the plateau to Paksong 71kms away.But there was nowhere to stay in Thane Beng, only the chance of a guesthouse partway up the plateau.As we chewed the cud, 2 Slovakian riders, coming from Attapeu, stopped briefly.
We decided to carry on, through lush mountain slopes, the road steep. I was slowing Viv and Jerry down now and the afternoon was coming to a close.What if there were not a guesthouse. I did not feel able to complete the distance to Paksong, certainly not in the dark, and quite understandably Viv refused to sleep by the side of the road.
We came across a small gathering and one man spoke English: yes, he said, in another 7 kms there is a guesthouse. It was pitch black when we turned in at the sign Guesthouse...tired, dirty and hungry. Did we hear the man right...full? Are you sure? Sorry, full. As we pondered this setback, the 2 Slovakian lads appeared. They had been given mattresses in a loft.The owner, Charlie, offered to put another mattress up there for us. With no offer of food, the five of us cheered ourselves up with beer and peanuts.
(Charlie left Laos in 1982 with his wife and 5 children, at a very troubled time here, and fled as refugees to Australia.Although his children and grandchildren now live in Sydney, he has returned with his wife to open this guesthouse.)
So first stop this morning was a shack for some rice  to set us up for the climb to Paksong.We have found good rooms and just thrown down some bread, tomato and doughnuts.(This is the first bread in 2 weeks).We have been unable as yet to authenticate the Bolaven Plateau's reputation for producing the best coffee in the world, but we will keep trying.

Tad Lo

Tad Lo is perhaps the most popular spot round the Bolaven Plateau so, given we were rather late leaving Katu homestay and that Viv,s tummy was out of sorts, we cycled only 28kms to Tad Lo. We got a small cabin each at Tim's - mine was sloping backwards but I did not fall out of bed - and took a stroll.
The most eye-catching fact of these villages is that animals and poultry roam everywhere, all so peacefully I had thought. But then I saw this grunter pushing its snout along the ground and hoovering all in front of it, heading towards a hen and its tiny chicken. As the hen flapped its wings in the pig's face, I took the photo. But when I lowered the camera the chick was gone.
We met up again with Richard here, a Swiss guy we met at Katu whose English was better than ours. He is on a motorbike, spending 12 months travelling around the world.

Hi Dad,

Glad you are enjoying yourselves. You are missed here...however there is more chocolate in your cupboards hmm. Catherine. xxx

Hi Abuelo,

I am glad you having a nice time. Mummy and i have been at your house this weekend and we have really missed you not being here.

Love from Erin.

xxxx

First climbs

The view across the Mekong to Champasak and the Plateau on the other side was stunning, even thrilling.It nearly started badly as the boat moved away as we reaching my bike over to it. My legs did the splits and it was choice between falling in the water myself or letting my bike do so. I chose the former and the boatwoman managed to grab my bike.
Once back on the mainland we had our first glimpse of rice being grown.The roads continued to be excellent and soon we entered the small town of Pakse and the long climb towards the Plateau. For the first time we reached 400m in altitude. The hilly terrain made a nice change.
Now we were looking for Katu Homestay; I had read in some obscue blog that it was it an ok place to stay. The young Mr Vieng has built this place over the last 3 years on his 5 hectare coffee plantation. He grows his coffee organically and relies more on the sale of the coffee than the income from 6 paying guests to make a living.
It can hit you when you arrive for a comfortable stay feeling hot, dirty and tired only to realise that the accommodation is a dorm, the toilet is a bamboo hut outside and the shower and laundry facilities are carried out in a single plastic bowl but it actually works out really well. It is so simple. We sat round with our 3 fellow guests, all French, and thoroughly enjoyed our rice, vegetables, chicken and cucumber salad, washed down with some of Mr Vieng,s coffee.The conversation was a sharing of adventures past and to come. I cannot understand why my dreams were of being on the run from the Germans: it is a recurring dream, actually.

Don Daeng and onwards

12-2pm are the hottest hours, so we booked a boat for 6am.It was nearly 7 before it arrived. Nonetheless we expected to be on the next island by noon. So we were feeling a little tired when at 3pm we had still not reached the turnoff after over 90kms. Partly luck but mainly good GPS plotting by Jerry found us on a wide sandy track heading downwards.After 3kms  we entered a small village below which a few boats were pulled up onto the edge of the water. A smiling young woman, carrying her young child, walked down to us, we loaded the bikes onto the platform that covered 2 boats and we were off to Don Daeng island. Our hoped - for destination was Don Daeng eco homestay but as we we had no idea where on the island it was, we simply followed the only track that presented itself. As elsewhere, the ground was very dry and uncultivated. The only visible signs of farming was the frequent sight of cassava (manioc, tapioca) cut into small chunks and laid out to dry.
After a few kms we arrived at a T junction and the track was now lined by the traditional raised houses, the track utilised by young and old on scooters and bikes and various types of wildfowl. The homestay was right at the end of this village in the most beautiful of settings: a wide stretch of sand stretched to the tranquil waters of the Mekong, beyond which the heights of the Bolaven Plateau beckoned.
By now it was going dark. The homestay was a community lodge, locked up with a sign saying to ring Mr Kham in Pakse, which we were unable to do. So we retraced our steps to a place advertising food and the owner surprisingly spoke English.I could have hugged the little chappie!
He cooked us some tasty noodles while arranging for us to stay with families in the village. Viv and Jerry stayed with onee family while I stayed next door with another. In each case, we were warmly welcomed.They tried to ask us questions and communicate but we made little sense of each other.The shower was a bowl of water and the bed was a mattress on the floor of the one open plan room with a mosquito net spread over the top. The family slept the same way across the other side of the room.
The following morning, our little chappie cooked us an omelette, introduced us to his uncle who had a boat and rushed off on his bike to carry out his day duties as a taxi driver in Pakse.
(Photos to be added when there is a stronger single)

More photos

4000 islands

/The French wanted to take their gunboats up from Saigon to inner China via the Mèkong River. The only barrier to so doing were the rapids in the channels around this island. So in 1893 they built a 1m wide railway across Khon and Don Det islands to transport them.
Nothing quite so strenuous for us...A relaxed day riding the paths round the island.
Almost by default we are following a mostly vegetarian diet. Every dish seems to introduce us to a new flavour.
We have arranged for a boat at 6am to take us back to the mainland. Tfhen we will 70+kms before crossing to Don Daeng island.

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