Out Of The Loop

I feel like I’m at Westfield. One of those massive generic shopping centres that have appeared all over the world like an unstoppable invasive weed, consigning unique and endemic economies and livelihoods, full of interesting local products and services, to the old handwoven bamboo dustbins of history.

I’m at the Asawan Shopping Mall, in Nong Khai, Thailand, in the food court, having a cup of iced tea. But if I’d really thought about it, I would’ve chosen a hot tea instead, as the air temperature in here is, as usual, set to keep emperor penguins in the sub Antarctic icelands comfortably cold.

And considering I’m in the hot tropics, it defies any sense or logic. Just like Westfield shopping centres during the height of a blistering summer. How hard is it to shift an aircon dial?

There’s a strong smell of burning plastic in here. You know, that smell you get when you buy a new Chinese-made toaster and use it for the first time? Or just before your blender starts to make weird sounds and you have to quickly turn it off, and then ditch it?

Yeah, I try to avoid these types of places these days.

But I’m here for a reason. I’m waiting for some new passport photos, which the guy at the camera shop said should take about 40 minutes. I need to cross back into Laos in a couple of days, and at the border they require a passport photo on my Visa On Arrival application form.

I’ve ordered 12 pics. I use them all the time, for certain border crossings and visa applications, and I’ve run out.

Out Of The Loop

So, I’ve already completed my planned 600km loop. Well, I almost have. The loop started in Vientiane, crossed the border into Thailand, turned west along the Mekong, and then south, and east, and then north back to the river.

In fact, because I had time and energy, I even extended the loop a little, on the eastern side.

I’m right back at the Mekong now, in Nong Khai, in northeastern Thailand, very close to the Friendship Bridge, which will lead me back to Michael and Jenni’s place in Vientiane. I plan to go there in the next few days.

My riding days seem to be getting longer now. I’m covering more distance every day. I’m not really meaning to, but I guess I’m just travelling faster, finding the riding easier, and so travelling further. It’s also been mostly flat on these latter parts of the loop. I’ve done a number of 100km or more days lately, and, while at the end of those days I feel that my legs have had a workout, I don’t feel any pain, just a healthy feeling that I’ve been getting some good exercise. It feels great.

To Udon Thani

As I left Nong Bua Lum Phu, and headed east, I completely surprised myself again, because there was a series of long hills to climb, which I wasn’t expecting. Of course, I hadn’t even looked at the elevation change along the route. Again.

It was wet. Another rainy season is still in its prime. Skies are black and grey for most of the day, sometimes there’s super heavy rain, and it can last for a few hours. But normally it really buckets down only for a hour or so, then drizzles for another hour, and then remains cloudy for a few hours. Then it all starts again.

Yeah, I’ve been totally drenched a few times whilst riding. My rain gear has limited use on the bike (or even when hiking, for that matter), because I’m just sweating under there anyway, so I’m saturated whether I wear rain gear or not. But I tend to wear it lately, because there’s so much rain coming down that at least it stops me from becoming a walking wet dripping sponge when I arrive somewhere.

I’m more like a wrung out cleaning rag, with months of dirt etched irremovably into its fabric.

Beautiful forest en route through the hills

I saw a sign that said “Beware, Dinosaur Crossing.”

And then I saw them.

Eventually I moseyed my way to the centre of Udon Thani, the main city hub in the region, and the 6th largest city in Thailand, with a population of around 150,000.

Which is not a big city, by any measure.

Just for comparison purposes, there’s only one really big city in Thailand, which is, of course, Bangkok. The city centre of the capital, which has a population of over 6 million, is over 20 times bigger than the next largest city in the country, Nonthaburi, which only has about 250,000.

So Udon Thani is spread out over a large area, but there’s no high rise, and no big city vibe whatsoever. There’s a couple of beautiful parks and lakes within the city area, which even have bike paths, and there’s some beautiful temples, markets and eating hubs around the place.

My district, close to a local market.

Flower stalls

Deserted eating hall (it was early), with a huge variety of food on offer

Er, ok, um, I’ll go around

Further up the street I discovered another, much busier, place

A bug’s life

Snakeskin snacks

Mushies

Luckily, these weren’t in the food section

Delectable khanom khrok, rice flour balls with condensed milk, corn, (and spring onions, of all things)

Notice the yellow decorative container behind Buddha? It’s made of bomb casing

Just like these, which are used as water features in gardens and temples, and sometimes appear in shops selling Buddhist accoutrements

Ted watching me as I look for an ATM

Wow! Look at the back! It's Ronaldasalanathiwat McDonaldaphoulanakhap

There’s an amazing Thai-Chinese cultural centre complex near the railway station, with a beautiful lake, and the Gardens Of Thousand-Year-Old Morality. We really need some of that these days.

Thailand has historically been one of the few near neighbours of China that has, throughout the centuries, always accepted Chinese migrants and businesspeople. There’s a huge connection between the cultures, and many Chinese cultural practices, foods and architecture have made their way into many places in Thailand.

Chinese districts abound in all major Thai cities and towns.

Chao Phu Chao Ya temple, dedicated to the grandmother and grandfather of the earliest Chinese immigrants to Udon Thani

Portals everywhere

Another excerpt from my famous series, School Uniforms of the World. Don’t ask me where the idea for the scout scarves comes from.

Nowhere to run to

It only just fit. These desserts, from small stalls around the place, are really really good. Sweet, but not too sweet, with some healthy bits in there too.

So, I needed to treat Black Bewdy, my trusty bike companion, to a good old fashioned wholesome service. It’s been awhile. And I couldn’t have chosen a better bike shop to get it done. I found it by looking at Google Maps, checking out the photos, and then double checking that the pics were taken relatively recently, so I know the shop still exists.

For 350 baht (about $15 Oz), they cleaned every square millimetre of her, all of that mud and grit and Buddha-knows-what-else removed from her strong frame and wheels and chain and cassette and derailleur and everything else. Even the tyres! And then they took the wheels off and cleaned the bearings. New brakes, greased and oiled, and now she runs like an absolute dream. I was so happy, so they asked me to make a little video for them to put on their website. I gleefully obliged.

But the best thing was meeting Surin, a lovely local bike mechanic who could speak really good English. We became friends immediately, and he took me out for lunch the next day, and drove me around town to some nice spots.

Bewdy, gleaming after her day of full body pampering, Surin in the foreground

Swanky Vietnamese restaurant lunch venue, compliments of my new friend. It was stunningly good. Again, I was flabbergastronomed by this latest course of amazing hospitality.

Surin took me to an amazing retail and wholesale fruit and veg market, Talat Mueang Thong Charoensri. It was massive, and as we walked around he showed me lots of fruits and vegies that I didn’t really know about, and we tried things here and there. Surin told me that if you’re polite and friendly the stallholders will let you try whatever you want. And they don’t expect you to buy anything either.

Massive bags of vampire repellant. Which is very necessary, as vampires actually exist extensively in Southeast Asia too.

Haven’t you seen those people with really red teeth and lips? It’s not from chewing betel nut at all, don’t believe that for a biting second. That’s a totally tried and trusted Transylvanian tactic to trick trusting travellers.

Green papaya, for mountains of som thum, green papaya salad

New and old ginger. The older one is stronger and more flavoursome, the softer younger one you can use in slices in your soups or dishes.

Reds and greens

Fresh tamarind fruit. It’s delicious, soft and pasty, and a little sweet, a bit like a date. This is not at all surprising, considering tamar means date in Arabic, and so tamar-ind is a date from India.

They have to sell all this today

Another type of local ginger

Preparing for the next firewalk

A shrine to Brahma, which to me looks like the same statue image as the Erawan Shrine in Bangkok. There’s actually a district near here, in Loei Province, which is called Erawan.

A Riding Companion!

Surin said he’d love to accompany me cycling on the road when I left Udon, and I, of course, said he was more than welcome. He had a spare day, but didn’t want to spend the night, and then ride back alone.

I’ve noticed that longer distance Thai cyclists, those who might ride from 50 to 60 kms a day or more, never ever seem to ride alone.

And Surin was no exception. After all his years of riding, he’s never ever ridden alone. He often does a 30 or 40 km little circuit, or sometimes does an overnight trip here or there, but he’ll never do any of it alone.

So this trip with me, where he rode about 40 kms with me, and then turned back and rode home on his own, was actually his first ever distance ride he’s done partly by himself.

He explained to me quite matter-of-factly that he wouldn’t even contemplate doing the sort of trip that I was doing. He seemed to be in awe of the fact that I was doing it, and asked a lot of questions about safety, and how I could guarantee that nothing bad would happen to me in all these different countries I was cycling through.

He also kept saying that he’d absolutely love to do a trip like mine, but couldn’t. Not because of money or time - but because of fear.

I told him that of course, I can never absolutely guarantee my complete safety, but that I feel totally safe on the road. I honestly never ever think of any possible dangers from people who might want to harm me.

I mean, I’m not stupid. I know I’m rich, compared to many in these parts (particularly in Laos and Cambodia), so someone might try to steal something. And they might succeed. And of course, there’s nutters out there.

But they’re in the completely minuscule minority.

And I also happen to be male.

Unfortunately the reality for female solo cyclists is not quite the same, but those I’ve met or whose blogs I’ve read tend to just say that they hardly ever have problems, and that they’re just smart about it, and follow their instincts. At those rare times when it doesn’t feel right to be alone as a woman, they just go elsewhere, or travel with someone else for awhile.

Almost always, they say they get way more support and help from people precisely because they’re solo female travellers. And not from sleazy blokes, but from many wonderful hospitable women and men, from parents and grandparents, young people, and from their supportive extended families.

Like these travellers from a WhatsApp cycling group I’m in, for example:

And, I’m sorry to say, a number of female travellers (not just cyclists) have told me the most dodgy situations or uncomfortable feelings have come up when they’ve been around certain Western or other travellers. Bad but true.

So anyway, Surin and I spent a half day cycling to a place called Phen, where I bought him lunch, and then he turned around and headed back.

Me on the road, in camouflage, so all the caffeined-up drivers in their fast moving trucks can’t see me.

Nah, not really … you can see my bright orange guitar at the back for miles. And there were hardly any trucks, except on the main roads out of Udon.

Timely lunch stop, as it completely poured with rain not long after we arrived. We’d already copped a bucketing earlier on our ride.

Surin and I, before he scarily headed back to Udon all alone, and I baldly and fearlessly headed towards Phon Phisai.

Even the teachers look like scouts. What is it with the scout thing?

Natural reclamation

Beautiful yaksha guardian

The road was amazing, and totally quiet. It rained a lot, this is a rare spot of clear sky.

The beautiful Sang Khom lake

Another Buddha quietly doing her thing

And back to the beautiful Mekong!

Phon Phisai

This small riverside town is famous because of a phenomenon called the bhang fai phaya nak, or Naga fireballs.

At certain times of the year it’s claimed that glowing balls can be seen rising from the river, sometimes up to hundreds of metres into the air, and often of a reddish colour. Some nights people claim to have seen thousands of them, other nights much less.

Legend has it that the fireballs are the work of Phaya Nak, a giant naga serpent who lives in the Mekong.

Scientists have had different theories about it, but no one can come up with a good explanation as to why it’s happening. The most logical one is that people are letting off flares and fireworks on the other side of the river, the Laos side. But that hasn’t been proven either.

My guess is that the phenomenon hasn’t been explained because no one really wants to explain it, as the event brings huge numbers of much-needed tourists to Phon Phisai during the Phayanak Festival, and if it all turns out to be staged then maybe interest will wane.

But I could be completely wrong about that.

Maybe it’s the Loch Ness monster’s eastern cousin.

The funny thing is, I actually came to Phon Phisai back in the 90s, at Phayanak Festival time, and it was amazing. Huge decoratively lit and very tall boats plied up and down the river, confusing the scene, so you didn’t really know what was a boat light and what was a potential naga fireball.

Good strategy that. From memory I thought at the time that someone had set off some flares across the river, because there appeared to be lights in the air sometimes. But I definitely didn’t see anything resembling a naga. Not in the river anyway.

I’d totally forgotten about the place until Surin mentioned that I should come here, as it’s a particularly beautiful place. He’s right.

There’s more nagas in Phon Phisai than you can poke a forked stick at. And they’re all beautiful. Many have been sculpted along the riverfront area.

Another beautiful Wat entrance and gardens

Gushing creek

And these are the most delicious sweets ever. Rice flour tapioca balls with sweet coconut paste and coconut slivers inside. Absolutely moorish.

Bit like the smaller version they have in Ho Chi Minh City.

To Nong Khai

So, under another rainbow, I decided to head west along the river, towards Nong Khai, which sits at one end of the Friendship Bridge across to Laos, the bridge I crossed in the other direction when I started my Mekong loop.

Typical small village housing

I watched these guys dancing for ages. When they finally came together it sounded like clap sticks, sorta like when I hug another bony person and there’s lots of clatterall damage.

As usual, it gushed with rain. Luckily I found shelter before this blast hit the ground running.

I need new rims. All that rim braking is leading to my rim breaking. Bewdy’s overused joints are wearing down.

Beautiful bamboo forest

Stunning road, and no traffic whatsoever

And then I made it to Nong Khai. My guesthouse was down the walking street, which I rode down.

Beautiful guest house gardens. If you can find the squirrel I’ll swap eyes with you.

See it? No?

Yeah I know, it was pretty hard.

Another view of the Mekong, another earth spin

Everywhere is pretty sleepy at the moment, tourist wise. There’s a few here, as this place is the main crossing point from Thailand to Laos, and vice versa.

I think this is supposed to be a tiger

A naga chasing a giant freshwater fish. There are actually giant fish in the Mekong, giant catfish, giant barbs, and giant dog-eating fish. I kid you not.

Quiet ez, bro

These are delicious, and a super common coffee snack in Thailand and Laos. They’re like a deep fried slightly chewy donut, and the green coconut and condensed milk sauce is the bomb. Maybe a little on the too-sweet side if I'm really honest.

Passport photo shop signage. Homogeneity has invaded our souls all over the globe. But it’s cute too, it reminds me of all those perfect people I know.

Your guess is as good as mine

I can be quite neglectful in a relationship. How could I leave her in the rain, all alone? My bad.

One night I really felt like speaking English, so I went to the type of restaurant/bar that was likely to attract the odd tourist or two. In fact, 3 of the rare species walked in, José and his partner Lisette from Burgos in Spain, and Berndt from Hamburg, (who wasn’t actually burnt because luckily it was super cloudy all day).

Ah shit!! I just thought of something!

I should’ve told José my Mexican joke!

What did the Mexican fireman call his new twin sons?

José, and Hose B

It was fun drinking beer and chatting with these guys for the night. They’re here on a short holiday. After a couple of rounds of drinks, and after breaking the news that I play guitar and teach music, Lisette, who’s half Tunisian, decided it was the perfect opportunity to get an expert opinion on whether or not she could actually sing.

Haha, here we go, I thought.

So, in the middle of the bar, while there was other Thai pop music playing, and a few different tables full of Thai people actually listening to it, she suddenly started playing a random Spanish pop-dance song on her phone at full volume and then started blasting her singing voice out all over the place.

It was pretty funny, but for the sake of the room, I suggested we carry on outside. Well actually it wasn’t just for everyone else. Two different songs playing loudly at the same time is my own personal definition of mental torture.

Then when we got outside, she kept beefing out her Spanish lyrics so loudly that I could hardly hear the music playing on her phone. And unfortunately, she didn’t seem to be listening to it herself, once she got started (not a good sign, trust me).

In her favour, she does have a strong voice, which I told her. And, in her state, (beers + a discreet spliff or two with her partner), actually listening to the recorded music wasn’t ever gonna be the fun part. No way José. Belting it out at full volume with all the dance moves just like you’re on stage was what it was all about. And she was bloody good at that bit, I can tell you that for a fact.

José and Lisette told me that when I come to Burgos I absolutely have to try their special pork sausage, as it’s a delicacy, and famous all over Spain. I told them that, despite being a vegetarian, I’d definitely try it when (if) I ever got there.

Then José, brimming with proud hospitality, told me that he worked as a pig slaughterer, and could get me the best pork in Spain.

Scout’s honour.

What could I say?

German Berndt’s girlfriend is Spanish, and happens to be Lisette’s mother. That’s why those guys are travelling together. So Berndt’s Spanish is really good, which of course made me the black sheep in the room, as my Spanish is mierda.

Berndt and I chatted in broken English and mangled German about all his travels to South America, and about my journeying around the traps. But José and Lisette could only speak Spanish and pretty much no English or German.

So, while the early evening’s conversations were a little slow, convoluted, and constantly interrupted by Google Translate, by the end of the night our well lubricated brains evolved, until we didn’t bother at all with that rubbish, and the conversations began to flow quite freely, using a combination of key words, sign language, charades, loads and loads of laughing, some pretty intricate body and dance moves, and a mutual willingness to not bother trying to understand anything that was too hard.

It was so much fun.

Lisette and José being all photogenic

On the way to the toilets in the bar

Naga on the way to the markets

The markets were dead as a doornail during the day

But it def picked up at night

Freshwater squid from the Yellow River

Nah, not really. They’ve been marinated in turmeric and dark soy sauce.

More crunchies

Local delicacies

These escaped from a Netflix serial killer series. I thought about it, but chickened out. I’ve tried them before (not my fave).

Fairy lights everywhere

These 2 guys were playing some really excellent Thai folk music. I listened for ages.

Bomb casings repurposed as water features for a garden. It’s all a bit macabre, don't you think, or is that just me?

More my kind of water feature

Things are changing in Thailand. Seven Eleven staff don’t automatically give you plastic bags anymore, only if you ask. Hopefully they’ll be banned altogether one of these days, just like styrofoam.

Back To Laos

It’s been a beautiful few weeks back in Thailand, but the time has now come for me to head back to the Land Of A Million Elephants, which is what the verdant Kingdom of Laos is known as. The term comes from way back in the 14th Century, when there were wild elephants all over the place. So romantic.

Yes! My friends will be here soon, and we’re planning on spending a few weeks in northern Laos together, taking trains and vans and boats, kayaks and swimmers and boots.

Bewdy’s gonna miss out. I’m storing her in Vientiane, but I haven’t told her yet. Please don’t let on, she’s very sensitive. I’m just waiting for the right moment.

Hmmm. That reminds me of earlier (forgettable) days, when I was so terrified of telling Brigitte I was going away on tour again and leaving her with the kids that I’d wait and wait and wait, desperately trying to find an opportune moment, which, of course, never came.

And then it was just too late.

But I guess it was always too late, even when it was quite early.

My lack of complete honesty, as well as my being regularly absent at a time when I really needed to be there for my young family, are actions that are now both etched in bold on my list of things never to do again.

Ah, the wisdom of hindsight.

But today is a new day, and now, by the benevolent grace of Buddha, I can be absent and fully present at exactly the same time.

Well, at least sometimes anyway❤️