A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Through Asia

My cycle odyssey through South East Asia has come to an end! As a final post for this trip I thought I'd share some oh-so-funny things I saw along the way.

Tonight's Specials
Menus are often the victim of some amusing translations. Here are some of the funnier things I found available for dinner.

• Pork party with spaghetti
• Killed beef, Korean style
• Batterian Fish
• Fried rice with pork pies and vegetable (one for the Brits)
• Bits of pork
• Fish of the year
  

Health and Safety
When there are so many other basic necessities to worry about, safety often falls down the list of concerns in developing nations. Here are some violations that would stop a health and safety officers heart.

• A guy arc welding, using a stylish pair of aviator sunglasses for eye protection. Less funny were the many instances of welders using no eye protection at all.
• Two guys on a motorbike, carrying an enormous sheet of glass between them, across the bike. Other cargo carried by terrified motorcyclists included double beds and mattresses, large cabinets and all manner of household furniture.
  
• A family of four on a motorbike (nothing unusual about that) with the woman holding aloft a stand, suspending her intravenous drip.

Useful Phrases
I stopped for noodles in Laos and 'talked' to a Vietnamese girl whose only English came from a Viet phrase book. It was a tricky conversation, particularly since the phrases in the book were not the kind you'd usually expect to find. There was an emphases on military vocabulary and rather extreme situations. Here are some examples:

• She has been dead for 3 hours
• He has been dumb from birth
• How did you escape?
• You are hurting me
• Can you make me a set of false teeth?
• My beard is very hard
• Can we buy some nuts for the monkeys?

The first time I saw these frames for carrying chickens in Cambodia, I thought they were clever. Then I realised the suspended chickens were still alive. Super fresh and super ingenious!


Cambodian minibuses are both passenger and freight carriers. Bags of rice and cement are commonly carried like this with passengers inside and on the roof.


A few more live chickens and this biker may even take off!


No health and safety problems here. A chap at a metal shop in Phenom Penh machines a new stem for my bike.


What's the English for guerrilla warfare? The phrasebook told us, but conversation was still tricky with this eager young Viet lass.


Everything and the kitchen sink, but no cycle panniers.

Cyclusion

I'm done with cycling! I finished on the central Viet coast in a little nowhere town called Quang Ngai, with a round 1000 miles having rolled beneath the wheels. The bike and I traveled on separate trains north to Hanoi, me in AC soft sleeper, she in the luggage car of a local train. It took 24 hours of chugging north to reach Hanoi, capital of Vietnam where I have a week of saddle-free time before heading home.

Here's a map of the complete overland route. Biking is in red, trains in blue, bus in purple and boat in yellow.


View Larger Map

The Ho Chi Minh Trail

For a couple of days my cycle route followed parts of the Ho Chi Minh trail through Laos and Vietnam. The HCMT was the supply route that was used by North Vietnamese forces in what is known here as the American War. The countryside is mountainous and covered in dense forest and jungle. Dropping from one valley and climbing into another it was easy to see why the traffic along the multitude of trails proved impossible to stop.

I passed a series of former American military bases along what was once the DMZ, including Khe Sanh, site of the fiercest battle of the entire war. There's nothing much there now except some rusting helicopters and the old landing strip, on which nothing will grow. There's also a small museum full of propaganda which leaves you with the false impression that the North Vietnamese scored a famous victory. Pictures of smiling North Vietnamese girls carrying boxes of supplies are contrasted with photos of American soldiers "showing their terror" during the battle.

An American soldier apparently once said that "you could lose Khe Sanh and you'd really lost nothing at all". Standing in the drizzle in the mountains and jungle in middle of nowhere, I couldn't agree more.

There are still thousands of tons of unexploded ordinance 'UXO' all over Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. These signs are common in Vietnam and Laos. In Cambodia, people missing limbs are common.


This US tank is all that's left of a whole valley of destroyed and abandoned equipment near Ban Dong in Laos. It was part of an unsuccesful raid on the HCMT by South Vietnamese forces.


A smashed Chinook slowly rusts at Khe Sanh.


It's not all doom and gloom in the border area. In fact, if you didn't know any better, you'd think that Lao and Cambodians had been living in a peaceful, innocent idyll for the last few decades, always smiling and laughing. As I ride past, kids come running out of the stilt houses every few hundred yards and shout "sabadee!" and "goodbye!" (sometimes even "hello!"). It makes for constant entertainment.


Sunset approaching the Viet border from Laos on route 9.

Hostage to Hospitality

Savannaket is the kind of place it's great to travel to. There's nothing really to 'see' but it's a perfect town to wander the quiet streets, chat to people and generally hang out. I decided to stay a couple of days as a break from the bike.

For the second time in as many days I found myself hostage to Lao hospitality. Watching a game of petang I was soon adopted by Dr Two, a surgeon from the local hospital, and we began an all day petang-watching fest of drinking and eating. We started with rice whiskey spiced up with goat gonads and moved on to eat the 'nads themselves. As a result I am assured I will become a "very strong man".

We traveled across town from one petang venue to another, finishing at the 'stadium' for an all day knockout competition. Petang seems to be identical to French boule, but I'm no expert. The guys in Savannaket certainly were though, and the competition was enthralling. My team pick from the first round was defeated in the final, an absorbing game. It was all toped off with much Beerlao and backslapping. An unexpected and great day.

Kids on the street outside the local Wat. This is about as busy as it gets in Savannaket.


The town has a blend of dilapidated French colonial architecture and Laos laid-back-ness that is common to Laos - and Cambodia.


Dr Two and the author. He doesn't look all that pleased in this picture but he soon picked up after a few glasses of goat whiskey and Beerlao.


There was much discussion, advice and measurement on the field, here at our first petang venue behind the bus shelter.


It was Lao National Day and so there were spectators aplenty wherever we went.


The final was played under floodlights at the local 'stadium'. The dude in the blue shirt is a virtuoso and now town champion. Destined for the national team I was told, and after watching his game I can believe it.

Up the Mekong, in Search of Colonel Kurtz

The Bike and I chartered a boat up the Mekong, headed out of Cambodia and into Laos. Kurtz was somewhere upriver. We were joined by East and West Germans, a Czech Buddhist and a guy from Limerick. It was a rag-tag bunch, but we were confident we could get the job done.

Motoring against the flow of the Mekong, we felt gooks eyeing us from everywhere. We saw them sometimes, but their clever deception of smiling, waving and fishing didn't fool us. We stayed frosty.

When we find Kurtz, I can only begin to imagine his state of his mind. I've begun talking to myself and sometimes I wonder about The Bike's opinion on matters. When The Bike answers me, I know someone will be headed up river - this time looking for me.

I carry The Bike onto our ride upriver. "I'm done for! Save yourself!" cries The Bike. "No way I'm leaving you brother!" I growl back.


The Bike and I stay frosty and alert for enemy activity.


We spot a long-tailed rocket boat, but they don't bother us none.


The team disembarks at the Lao border.


Meet the mighty Mekong.


We make it across the heavily fortified border. Luckily I spotted the garrote just in time.

This post pays homage to Mr FFC.