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.

Hanoi

I already miss Hanoi. A jumbled, pulsing city full of back streets filled to bursting with all sorts of stalls, shops and street food. It's a great place to hang out and meet people.

Hanoi traffic is particularly crazy, even by the standards of developing countries. Traffic is dominated by bicycles, scooters and motorcycles and if the road is clogged, these all flood onto the sidewalks. The best (and indeed only) way to cross the road is simply to walk out into the traffic and let it flow around you. It's important to go slowly so that the various bikers have a chance to judge your speed and trajectory. Junctions are a wonder to behold, particularly from above. Traffic signals are rare - instead, traffic slows down and merging streets weave through each other in an intricate dance. The system doesn't always work however and I was twice involved in minor crashes while perched on the back of motorcycle taxis. No one ever gets irate. It's just all part of the wider traffic of life.


Uncle Ho's mausoleum. The poor chap wanted to be cremated but the state had other ideas. I filed past his waxy remains with lots of Vietnamese. He's only open from 8am to 10:30am, 5 days a week. Being a dead communist leader would seem like a good gig, at least in terms of the hours.


The Ho Chi Minh Museum was the strangest museum I've ever been to. Rather than historical exhibits or information it instead displayed a collection of symbolic exhibits, attempting to show Ho's struggle and that of the nation. It was all pretty impenetrable to me, this strange sculpture being a prime example.


A typical back street in Hanoi's Old Quarter.


I bought some oranges from this bright and breezy street seller.


The street food in Hanoi was excellent. Each stall specializes in a particular kind of dish, which makes repeat ordering very simple but the first visit very complex.


I bought an old Soviet watch from this repair stall. The number of shops and stalls devoted to repairing everything from motorcycles to clocks makes you realise what a throw-away society the West has become.


On the way back through Bangkok I enjoyed this super tasty street stall meal, which came with beer served over ice in a child's bucket. Mmmm. Bucket of beer.


Spectators in Bangkok rooting for their boxer at a Thai boxing arena.


Thai boxing is a very young mans sport and surprisingly full of fascinating ritual.

Cobra and Crackers

Watch out Hissing Sid, Sneaky Snake and serpent from the Garden of Eden. It's payback time!

Le Mat is a town just outside Hanoi where they specialize in exotic cuisines - particularly snake. Three of us caught a cab into town and we were soon joined by two motorcycle outriders banging on the windows and yelling at us. It turns out we weren't about to be robbed - the guys were just hawking for their competing snake restaurants. One of them escorted us to his establishment where we were ushered upstairs into an empty dinning room. Before we had even sat down a man appeared holding a sack, with something writhing inside...

Our snake emerges from it's sack. It was very pissed off, as you would be in the circumstances.


The creepy-looking proprietor with the long fingernails slits the snake's throat - insomuch as a snake isn't just one long throat. He drains the blood into glasses and the snake hisses its last as he cuts out the heart.


We began the meal with a snake blood and snake wine mixer, garnished with the heart which was still pumping away. Snake wine is made from rice vodka that has been marinading a dead snake. Bottoms up!


Mmmm, the snake heart slipped down so easily! I felt the snakepower begin to surge through my body!


Further courses included (starting clockwise from the bottom) snake gruel, grilled snake, sautéed snake, sautéed snake bits with citronella, soft fried snake skin and snake rolls. There was an accompaniment of snake fried rice, snake soup and crackers. There's a theme. Have you guessed what it is?


A very simple bill. Snackes, hear and beer. The perfect meal.


A big vat of snake wine. I'm glad my Mum and Dad stuck to crabapple wine in our airing cupboard at home.


This is where the poor little blighters live before the tasteless tourists and crazy locals turn up. I'll take the lively chap in hutch number 5 please!

Halong Bay

Three hours outside Hanoi in the Gulf of Tonkin lies spectacular Halong Bay, which looks exactly like Scaramanger's Island from The Man With the Golden Gun. Halong Bay has many more islands than the Bond location in Thailand (over 1500) but none were fitted with a Solex powered laser and sadly none were inhabited by Agent Goodnight.

Halong Bay is home to several floating villages. The villagers live by fishing and from fish farms built under their floating houses. They move the entire village to a protected location if there is a storm or typhoon.


Starting them early. Watch out Henley Regatta!


What a lot of old junk(s)!


All commerce is carried out afloat. A floating tuck shop visits our junk.


It was very hazy in the Bay but soon winter will bring think fog and mist and almost zero visibility.

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

Central Vietnam

It's been wonderful cycling weather in Cambodia and Laos - the cool season is warm and dry with enough breeze to make it comfortable for long stretches in the saddle. All that changed as soon as I crossed into Vietnam which has only two seasons - summer monsoon and winter monsoon. My first full day in Vietnam comprised 11 hours cycling through drizzle and pouring rain. Memorable certainly. Some parts were even fun. I made a sorry sight standing in various hotel lobbies in Hué trying to find a room for the night.

There's a whole load of stuff to see in central, coastal Vietnam. Here are some highlights.

I interrupted some kids larking around riding water buffalo on the road between Hué and Da Nang. They didn't seem to mind.


I never discovered if this guy found anyone else to brush-joust with in Hué.


Ever wonder where Sir Giles Gilbert Scott got his inspiration from? Inside the citadel at Hué.


Self portrait on the long, winding pass between Hué and Da Nang.


And down the other side of the pass. I hoped this wasn't advance commentary on my downhill cycling.


This sprightly, cheerful old crone showed me around several shrines at the Marble Mountains. She was delightful.


This enormous cave in the Marble Mountains housed several shrines. It was deserted and amazingly atmospheric.


Hoi An is a beautiful place. Under a similar agreement to that which saved Oxford, Cambridge and Heidelberg during the Second World War, both sides spared Ho An in the American (Vietnam) War. It is a fabulously scenic place left just as it was in colonial times. There are few buildings more than 40 years old in the rest of Vietnam.


Hoi Anne harbour at sunset.


I decided to get my expedition beard shaved off and a haircut in Hoi An, since the cycling was coming to an end soon. Against my better judgment I was lured into this scarecut establishment by the silky, English phrases of the girls working there - "You! Haircut!" etc. A proper shave is usually a great value treat in developing countries, but this experience reinforced one of my traveling maxims - always get a dude to do the shaving. My nerve broke and I left this place still with half a moustache.


What's goin' on 'ear then? I've no eyed ear. Surgical earwax removal at a barbershop in Hoi An.


Cycling though the countryside is lovely, particularly on the quiet back roads. The paddy fields make a wonderful vista but rice cultivation never seems anything less than backbreaking, muddy work. There's little mechanisation to rice production in Vietnam.


Ca-phe Phin is the drink of choice for the long distance cyclist in Vietnam. Super-strength coffee is very slowly percolated onto condensed milk (see glass on the left). Ice (da) is added for a refreshing cold drink that gives you a double sugar and caffeine rush. Like Red Bull only tastier and prettier.

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.

Phenom-enal Water Festival

The Phenom Penh Water Festival takes place over 3 days and is the biggest weekend in Cambodia. Millions descend on the capital to watch almost 500 boats compete in non-stop racing on the Tonle Sap river. There are several different designs of boat but the most common contain around 60 blokes paddling furiously, meaning that tens of thousands were participating in the event.

Two boats race in the fast-flowing center of the river, while finishers make their way along the banks back toward the start.


At the start line dozens of boats jockey for position while they await their turn to race. There was much whistling and hand waiving, but everyone seemed to know what was going on (except me).


The chain-smoking leprechaun in the bow keeps time for the rowers...


.. while several chaps at the back with longer paddles steer the boat. You can see offerings in the bow - I think to appease the spirits.


Waiting for your race slot is an exhausting business.


Each day was topped off with fireworks and barges with huge light displays which paraded up and down the river.

Gun Phun in Phenom Pehn

What do you get if you cross tourist dollars with Cambodian commandos who have too much time on their hands and a base full of guns and ammo? A whole load of gun totting fun!

Ice Cube's favourite - AK 47, assault rifle. The safest place to be while I was shooting was directly behind the target. With a full clip of 30 shells on full-auto I managed to only wing the target twice :-S


This tripod mounted M19 was a lot of fun, but not as much as the Degtyaryov light machine gun I also tried, which had tracer shells too.


My 30 dollar grenade which I got to toss in a water-filled ditch. Die frogs and other insurgent pond life!


Our commando hosts were lovely, family chaps who's kids chipped in by setting and retrieving targets (they were small and much harder to hit).


Don't touch gun!
Very me, don't you think? Sadly, posing only since they were out of ammo for this M16 with under slung grenade launcher.

Cambodian Riviera

The flight from Bangkok to Phenom Penh was considerably quicker that my previous trip out, and a lot less effort. The 5 days it had taken by train and bike were swallowed up in 75 minutes. So the plane takes about 10 minutes to cover a day of cycling. I must remember to fit that saddle mounted turbofan next time.

I switched one Matt power for a handful of horse power and headed down to the south coast to kill a couple of days before the Phenom Penh Water Festival. The towns of Kampot and Kep used to be the place to hang out for well-to-do Cambodians before the war and Khmer Rouge regime. The place is full of dilapidated French colonial buildings and abandoned villas. Very atmospheric and picturesque. Things are visibly picking up however and I'm sure you'll see it in the Thompsons Holidays brochure very soon.

Downtown Kampot with its French colonial charm. Kids are everywhere. The majority of the Cambodian population is under 25.


Volleyball is a popular street game, something Cambodia shares with Nepal.


Quite a crowd gathered for the game, with players and spectators serviced by noodle sellers.


This abandoned villa in Kep is now home to squatters.


Forget the car which runs on water, in Cambodia, my awesome little Honda ran on Pepsi! I hear diet is better for the environment.

Back in Bangkok

After 500 km I reached Phenom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, of which more in another post. It was strange seeing Westerners again and as I cycled the busy streets looking for a guest house I felt a little sense of achievement at having got here under my own steam - so far I've not seen another Western cyclist on the roads of Cambodia.

Soon after I arrived, I was off to the airport to fly back to Bangkok to see my buddy Moleskin Matt get married. What a fun and fascinating time! Moleskin met his wife Poom while he was working in Bangkok several years ago. He's quite the South East Asian connoisseur, speaking Thai and having completed several of his own cycle odysseys in Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. It was great to catch up with him and meet Poom, who is predictably as terrific as young Moleskin. A perfect match.

The ceremony itself was the third of the week, following civil and Buddhist proceedings. It unfolded over several hours during which the number attending slowly swelled from a hundred to around 600 as family were joined by friends and finally business associates. It was fascinating and much fun and has been a perfect break from the bike for the weekend. Cheers to Poom and Matt!

Poom and Moleskin spent most of the many hours of the ceremony kneeling and greeting everyone with hands pressed together in sawadee. This was the 'pouring of the water' part of the ceremony.


On your knees boy! (as the KLF would have said, had they been invited).


This was the grand finale of speeches, toasting and over 600 guests.


The cake has nine layers, for luck. The 18th was similarly a most auspicious day on which to be married.


It was a very grand and spectacular occasion with ice sculptures and everything!

Ankor. Wat on Earth?!

So it turns out the road from hell leads to somewhere close to heaven. The temples of Ankor, just outside Siem Reap, are something indeed. There are dozens of enormous, spectacular and diverse temples scattered throughout the countryside of jungles and paddy fields. The jungle has invaded them all but has been removed from only some. For the others, it has become an integral part, both binding the stones and splitting them apart, and only adding to the spectacle and atmosphere.

The temple of Ankor Wat is the headline act and certainly an awesome spectacle. Up close it amazes with endless intricate stone carving and detail.


The Bayon is adorned with hundreds of images of the Buddha which double as portraits of the commissioning Ankorian king. The temples are a mix of Buddhist and Hindu, sometimes both at once, as the Ankor civilization oscillated between the religions.


There are many working temples inside and amongst the ancient sites where monks are busy having fun as only Buddhist monks do.


Ta Prohm has been completely overrun by the jungle which has a permanent grip on the temple. It makes for an atmosphere of pure Tomb Raider, unsurprising since scenes from the movie were shot here.


My personal favorite, Preah Khan, is pure Indiana Jones.


By comparison, Pre Rup would seem to be pure Beastmaster (I'm thinking of the final scene on the temple steps where the bad guys are vanquished while the good guys lose only a male ferret in the battle. No ferrets were harmed in the taking of this photograph).


Preah Khan was very quiet and atmospheric. One of the few inhabitants was this girl with her pet - some kind of strange, nocturnal animal (answers on a postcard please). Stranger and stranger are the temples in the early evening.

Into Cambodia

I flew into Bangkok with my bike in a box in the hold. My vague plan is to cycle across Cambodia and Laos and into Vietnam. I've not planned much beyond the first week since I'm sure I'll do a better job of figuring it out as I learn more about the country the bike and me. I've already found out quite a bit. I'm flying solo on this trip while Mary stays at home for a few weeks.

My first job was to get to the Cambodian border. I took the train to avoid the maze of traffic around Bangkok. It was then a simple 7km cycle from the station at Aranyaprathet to the border and a fairly straightforward visa process. Once inside Cambodia the fun began.

The road from Poipet to Siem Reap, my first major destination, was pure hell. Stones and bugs peppered windshields but all I had was teeth and Raybans. Holes, sand, stones, mud and dust made the going very slow. Above all other trials was the dust, which gets everywhere - in your lungs, in your teeth, in the bike, in your gear. I ended each day with my clothes, skin, and bike the same color as the locals. All the color of Cambodian dust.

On the train from Bangkok, approaching the Cambodian border.


My first portrait of the bike. Not quite the same subject appeal as Mary I'll admit, but she does have lovely lines of her own, and 27 speeds.


In my international league of photo-enthusiasm - where the shy Tibetans are the yardstick of reticence - Cambodia makes it's entry straight in at the number one spot with a bullet, beating India and Nepal into joint second place. These kids were absolutely beside themselves at seeing their picture on the camera screen. Although they lived beside the 'highway' the buses don't stop in their village and so I guess they'd perhaps never seen a digital camera. I hope the bike continues to work it's magic like this.


150km of the dusty road from hell.