Nha Trang

Having left Mui Ne I have now moved up a couple of inches up the map to Nha Trang. I had hoped to arrive here yesterday, not that it matters that much, but I have had to negotiate a strong headwind all the way which reduced my progress considerably. At its worst I was struggling to make 6kms per hour for a lot of legwork. No matter, since this was a really good leg otherwise. Leaving Mui Ne the land is almost semi arid with dunes extending some way inland and cacti growing. Bougonvilia  (I know its the wrong spelling, but the spell check keeps coming up with Yugoslavia!) grows along the roadside and there is a shrub or tree which gives off a scent that reminds me of Provance. Even the light is like the South of France. Gradually the land becomes more fertile and you cycle through paddy fields with palm groves in the distance and mountains beyond. Its quite beautiful. Along the route there are glimpses of the coast and of course the numerous villages and towns along 1A which is the main route to Hanoi.

A day out and I met two French fellers cycling towards Mui Ne. Really decent blokes who told me that they were spending 8 months cycling around South East Asia, having arrived in Hanoi, brought two bikes and set off. They did take a bus for the mid section of the route as they have a timescale to be in the south. The following day, two more cyclists, again heading south; its like rush hour!!!! Laura and Brant were from the USA and from their home in California (Big Sur) which is a terrific location, they cycled across the States to New York, a journey they completed in 6 weeks and is what most Americans consider to be a right of passage. They kindly gave me the heads up on an alternative route into Nha Trang. This route kicks in about 30 kms from the city and is effectively a dual carriageway, brand new, with hardly any traffic but the most superb sea views which was great to cycle this morning. To anyone contemplating cycling north, this is a gem of a route into Nha Trang. Brant is a very keen cyclist and both had custom made bikes for the trip. He was well versed with Thorn and took pictures of Cynth. We both had Schwalbe Marathon XR's tyres which are no longer made, probably because they are so good. Brant bought his set second hand and hardly any wear. Come on Schwalbe, get manufacturing these tyres again, your replacements arn't a touch on the XR's.

Its always good to meet cyclists on the road, swap stories and discuss your bikes; those four were the first cyclists I have met I think since Turkey, but the South East Asian market is growing in popularity as a cycling destination, so if any of you guys I met cycling along the Danube are reading this, then believe me if it's a possibility, then go for it. The two French fellers brought their bikes for $250 each and both said they were great for what they wanted.

Life along the road continues to be interesting and fun. Truck drivers, shop keepers, road workers and blokes sitting around in the numerous cafes continue to chaik, shout and wave. Pull into a cafe and they all gather round while you explain what you would like to drink; the women are great, always smiling, chatting and are very tactile.I found this in Mui Ne, while all the testosterone fuelled 20 somethings were demonstrating their physical aplomb either by exercising on the beach or kike surfing; I just chatted to the girls with very positive results. There are loads of cafes, not sure how any of them make a profit. I generally like to get an hour or two under my belt before a pit stop, and the day I left Mui Ne I did just that and pulled into a cafe where 6 blokes were consuming Tiger lager at an alarming rate, well for 8am it appeared that way. They insisted I sit with them and would not think of me leaving until I had drunk 3 cans of lager with them; so I did. They were also ripping a crab apart so again insisted I help them demolish that as well. The thing about cycling is that you don't know whats going to happen next. It's a gimme here that quite a few scooter riders will come alongside and slap you on the back by way of encouragement; this can be a bit dicey if your not expecting it. Also the kids love hi 5's while you are in motion and hold their arms out. Lads also like to race me and overtake before heading off a sidestreet then look at me and laugh as they head away. And yes I do let them win. On one occasion I stopped next to a collection and distribution plant where dragon fruit was the product in question. Dragon Fruit is a mainly pink coloured circular fruit with pink 'fingers' coming off. Hence the name I guess. The inside contains a white coloured fruit with black seeds, very good to eat. The owners daughter was called Anne who could speak very good English; having met her mother and co-workers Anne then gave me 4 of these fruit to take with me; about 2 kilos in weight. This just demonstrates how generous these people are.

Hotels are plentiful and cheap, rarely away from cities do you pay more that $10 for a room which is a double with shower and a/c. I stayed at one on the second night where my room cantilevered over the ocean on both sides. So at night you could listen to the swell and watch the fishing boats' wonderful. I usually eat street food or local restaurants. For breakfast, stop off at roadside where you get a warm bagette, two fried eggs, sausage meat, veg and spicey sauce for 50 cents!!! Thats about 30p and its usually very good. In the evening its pot luck, but again select something usually with noodles or rice, with water buffalo as the meat, and of course seafood and fish of all descriptions. The girls often bring me crayfish or something else off the menu with a sauce and sit with me showing how to extract the meat. Of course, its quite usual to spend the odd night, or part of it, on the loo so the following day you feel a bit under the weather and not really looking forward to getting on the bike. On days like that I think about why I'm doing this; for kids with cancer. Bet they would swap their situation for mine at an instant; so I get myself into gear, give myself a verbal lashing and kick up the backside and start pedalling.

They make coffee with condensed milk over here. Its very good, not that I need any incentive to demolish a can of that. Mum and I would sit down with a can of condensed milk and two spoons and go through it like a dose of salts.

Of course spending so much time in the saddle, the old tackle gets a bit sore. I have tried a variation of clothing and even resorted to a condom to provide a bit of relief but all to little avail. So now I find the best is to flip the tackle occasionally from one side to the other. Its ok. Now I have a mate called John Stamp who I think usually reads these at breakfast while getting his laughing gear around a large danish. His reposte (and he has one for most occasions) would be 'Bloody hell Trevelyan, half an inch less and you'd be a stewardess!'John and I go back more than 40 years, I think Wichita Lineman was charting so must have been around '69. He likes nothing better at a dinner party to regale what I looked like and my musical taste at the time. So a description of me with shoulder length Beatle haircut with bright shirt, flares and hipsters grooving to T.Rex, Mungo Jerry and Cream is portrayed to the dining guests; fortunately there are no photos. Janet, his wife is amazing; how she puts up with him I don't know, she is a superb, cook and hostess and when I needed help both of them were right there no questions asked. Its something I am appreciative of even now. Great mates.

Well I see by the date on my watch that Christmas is rapidly approaching. Not that it feels like it here, or you would really know it. I'm surprised that shops are selling xmas trees and tinsel. So to get into the festive spirit I bought some tinsel and decorated Cynth; photos on the side. Looks a real picture eh! Not sure where I will be on the day; because of the headwind I cant see me making it to Ha Long Bay or even close. It doesn't matter because the weather up there isnt that great at the moment. Hanoi is only 20 degrees positively shivering!

I know at this time of year you all get bombarded with begging letters from charities. I'm also aware that everyone is tightening the belt with such an uncertain future ahead. However, if I could simply ask that for anyone with a few bob to spare feel so inclined to lob it in the direction of Children with Cancer UK  it would absolutely make my xmas. I hope to blog again before xmas, but in the event I don't may I wish everyone a very happy and peaceful xmas.

A juddering halt in Paradise!

From Saigon to Hanoi the route is entirely Highway 1 and extends for between 1,800 - 1,900 kilometers depending on which road sign you select; it's still a long way. Cycling out of Saigon was very straightforward, in fact it could not have been easier. Far simpler than Bangkok or Istanbul. As always the locals ride by on scooters and look with mild astonishment or, as is more usual make some crack or gesture and say hello. So no surprise when a scooter pulls up alongside and the feller starts a conversation in English. He insisted on buying me a pepsi and during this interlude he tells me his name is Parat; he is 82 and looks 60 and used to work for an American Company as an interpreter. He took me to meet his family; we had iced coffee and then a quick trip through his village before saying goodbye as we rejoined Highway 1. As I have often  mentioned before, these people are very friendly and want to converse with visitors.

It took 2 days to reach Pham Thiet, a very attractive small city. I found a decent place to stay for the night before venturing out for something to eat. Parat had told me to visit Mui Ne which is a resort beach about 20 kilometers from Phan Thiet. The following morning, following a quick visit to the hospital, I followed the signs for Mui Ne. Having crested a hill, I freewheeled down and in front was an expanse of ocean: the South China Sea (Pacific). I immediately parked Cynth against a coconut tree facing the ocean and slapped the saddle in delight. I felt a wave of elation, which just took over. I suppose its the realisation that I had cycled from the Atlantic to the Pacific. When I started this journey, I didn't dare look as far as Vietnam; it seemed an endless destination, but here I was watching the surf crash onto the golden sand. It didn't take much for me to hit the surf and go for a swim. The water was like a hot bath and I just felt so good. It was one of those moments that would have been great to share with someone, I felt a real sense of achievement and just let the waves wash over me. There are loads of resorts and hotels extending along the bay; this is a quality resort location certainly international standard. The beach is sandy and just about everyone is kite surfing. It looks sensational; far more fun than wind surfing. I am staying at the Green Coconut Resort, not expensive and have a bamboo chalet with veranda and ocean view. Palm trees everywhere; swimming pool, restaurant, bar and private beach. Believe me its paradise; the weather is perfect, mid 80's with a warm easterly wind, no humidity. Definately worth a google! I was speaking to an Aussie guy who owns one of the kite schools and he told me that this place was gradually getting recognised and that tourism was improving but that there was definate mileage in tapping the European market. Currently the majority of tourists are Russian! Now these guys rarely speak to you; some do of course. The French then form the second largest tourist community, and like the Russians, they prefer to keep there own council. So if you are anything other than Russian or French (who don't seem to speak to each other either) then you hope to bump into Brits or Aussies if you want a few laughs. And thankfully, there are a few of them around.

I had been struggling somewhat with energy levels since arriving in Vietnam, much of which I put down to the humidity. Arriving in Mui Ne I was literally running on empty; had nothing left in the tank at all and felt exhausted. A mate of mine suggested I had travel fatigue, well whatever, and despite a couple days rest in Saigon, I decided I needed at least a week beach bumming. My enforced stay was also influenced by the fact that on my way to get some dinner in Phan Thiet, I was bitten by a dog. This necessitated the visit to the aforementioned hospital, and despite my rabies booster, the delightful Dr was very keen to fill me full of needles. So I have a course of 5 injections; 3 of which I could get while in Mui Ne and the other two on the way north. For my second jab, I was invited into the surgery; along the wall were nine chairs occupied by Vietnamese women and children; I started chatting to them and it was great, a ready audience to see the needle go in. Fortunately, she stuck it in my arm not my backside. Well the combination of surf, sun and cold beer seems to be working and the batteries seem to be recharging well. Midway through the week I received a text from Liz, my sister.

As a consequence of the brutal rainfall that has fallen on the south west in the Exeter area, it appeared that my house had not escaped and was flooded. At this point you need mates and a sister like mine to help out. Liz is a gem as I have mentioned on previous blogs (everyone should have a Liz!). She is forensic in just about everything she does and leaves no stone unturned. Once I had telephoned my insurers to grant her effective power of attorney with the claim, she has done a superb job coordinating what has been going on for my benefit. I should also like to thank both John for his advice and Quent particularly, who literally dropped everything to visit and prepare a claim report on the same day. You cannot buy these kind of mates; I'm very lucky, I have three who would go the extra mile without thought or complaint. To say I am grateful would be an understatement. So while the claim is being collated and the damage assessed, I have decided to stay here for another week; this will ensure that I am readily contactable, since on the road its not always easy to find an internet cafe; this will also allow me to get the 4th jab in as well. It had been my intention to spend 2 weeks in Ha Long Bay but this situation will now reverse that, although I will still visit Ha Long Bay it will only be for a day or two; besides which, the weather is better here. Must admit I didn't take much persuading.

So it has been an eventful few days; not quite what I had envisaged; but have set myself the 9th to set off when hopefully everything will have been resolved satisfactorally.

Saigon 8,742 kilometres

The ferry departed Phnom Penh at 8am, some 20 backpackers and I headed south for a 4 hour trip down the Mekong to Chau Doc in Vietnam. The journey itself was fairly uneventful, the banks of this mighty river giving way to small waterside communities and agriculture. Occasional larger water craft would pass, ploughing their way towards Phnom Penh. Three quarters of the journey completed, we pulled into a muddy river bank, climbed some steps at the top of which was a building that turned out to be the Cambodian checkpoint. The passport handed in, stamped, then back on the boat and off downstream to the Vietnamese border where a similar pattern was repeated. Thats the first river border crossing I have encountered, and it was very easy.

Chau Doc is one of several large towns and communities located within the Mekong Delta. As a town, it doesn't have a great deal to offer, but it is one of the busiest, especially with tourists, as its the link to Cambodia and a coach service also runs directly to Saigon. The following morning Cynthia and I set off to cycle through the Delta region. Humidity here is higher than I have experienced so far; to the extent that I became a dripping wreck within a few minutes. As the day progressed, every part of your anatomy sticks to other bits with the result that the constant sweat, friction and movement causes quite painful and uncomfortably raw tackle; thank goodness for showers and vaseline!!!!! For those of you who like route details, having left Chau Doc, the first port of call was Sa Dec and then Tan An before finally arriving in Saigon. The Delta region is characterised by an almost continuous number of villages and small towns; many of these communities set in small inlets surrounded by mangroves; the route also takes you over numerous large bridges beneath which are the tributaries of the Mekong. The scale of the delta region is quite something.

I have heard that people have deliberately avoided Vietnam because of a certain reputation it is supposed to have. Having been in this country for only 5 days (not long I grant you to form a conclusive opinion) from my experience so far, I would like to dispel all the negatives about this place. The people are equally as friendly as any I have met in South East Asia; maybe not as vociferous as their Cambodian neighbours (but then no one would be on that scale). I still get all the smiles, acknowledgements, the mick taken out of me and scooters coming alongside chatting and patting me on the back. Without question, the key is the way I am travelling. I'm not criticising backpackers, only a handful of years ago I backpacked through Australia, New Zealand and South America for the best part of a year and loved the experience. To some extent though, when you are reliant upon buses, trains etc to get you from place A to place B, you do isolate yourself from much of what is going on around you. That's not to say that when you arrive that you don't make the effort to integrate with the locals, which of course a lot of backpackers do. The difference is that on a bike, you integrate every minute of your whole journey and for me this is the most enjoyable part of the journey. I have no desire to see any more markets or religious icons, but to experience the day to day life of the people with whom you are sharing this brief experience is to my mind the most valuable and satisfying. There is a huge curiosity factor when I pull in to a street cafe for a drink; it is quite normal to sit with them at their request and chat, usually in sign language. Cynthia is a major curiosity in her own right (so rightly named if you know my ex-mother in law!), she attracts a group wherever she is parked up. When in Dubai I purchased a klaxon and I always know when I go in a shop or somewhere for advice, that someone will squeeze the klaxon; they love it. I always hear it everytime and when I come out I am met with wide grins. I can give you two instances so far where the locals have gone beyond the call of duty to help this idiot Englishman. On one occasion, a young girl who I had asked directions, got on her scooter and rode to where I needed to turn off (probably darn glad to get shot of me!). The second time was in Sa Dec, where I had just arrived and asked a feller and his son about accommodation for the night. No worries, they got on their scooter and again rode in front taking me to a superb hotel where the staff where unbelievably kind.

So what of Vietnam? Well one of the advantages of cycling is that you get a flavour of the people, the place and the driving conditions. The first two I have covered in the above paragraph, now to the real fun part. As you will observe from an atlas, Vietnam is thin and linear in shape; its not that big an area, but large enough to accommodate 90 million people. Given the topography, including the mountain region further north, then there is only so much room for these people to live and consequently, they congregate along the roads and water courses. Vietnam has a population that is some 6 times the size of Cambodia, so cycling through the Delta, pretty well every village or town is linked to the next to form a continuous urban scape along every road. The villages are bustling, always something going on and its clear that Vietnam is a wealthier country than Cambodia; there are a lot of building and construction projects in progress, notably bridges. Now to the traffic. Commensurate with the size of population their are millions of scooters, simply an unbelievable number. Having cycled for a few days I am now fully seized with traffic methodology. For a start, its absolutely fine to proceed against the traffic flow, and at all times, traffic entering the road from the left do so without sight or forthought, they just do it. In order to develop a successful technique, the key word is 'weaving'. Never stop whether you are on a bike, scooter or vehicle or a pedestrian; keep going in a deliberate manner and all traffic will weave in and out of you. The first couple of times, it is quite nerve wracking, but you get used to it. Another rule of the road is that it is quite ok to go round a roundabout the wrong way. This is great since your survival rate increases by missing out junctions to get to the one you want. The noise is deafening, everyone, but everyone seems to have the horn on non stop. I have to say though that the locals clearly recognising a foreigner when they see one, very often 'shelter' you by letting you come alongside and protecting you; they also are very respectful, well most are, so once you know whats likely to happen, its not too bad. Cycling into Saigon was not as bad as London, Istanbul or even Bangkok.

I shall be in Saigon for a couple of days only; its expensive and a typical big city. Big it is, having a population of 8 million; that's about the size of Bangkok. You are advised to stay in Districts 1,3 and 5 which is the modern downtown core, with all the fancy hotels and highrise offices. Its worth being here to see the traffic, strangely there are no tuk tuks here. From here its a cycle ride along Highway 1 to Da Nang and north. Highway 1 is a poorly maintained road, barely the equivalent of an average A road in England, more like a B road in many places. Have found a diner style restaurant just around the corner from where I am staying which is great to bulk up. For the last few days I have been living on street food which in some cases doesn't hang around too long in the digestive tract! Not sure when the next blog will be, probably Ha Long Bay. Cheers for now, time for a little exploring.

The land that smiles.

The ferry from Siem Reap to Battambang was smaller than I had envisaged. Seating along either side allowed for about 20 people, bikes were lashed to the roof. I had decided to make the 6 hour crossing between the two cities, across Lake Tonle Sap as a welcome change from eating dust and ingesting fumes from vehicles. A ferry also runs to Phnom Penh during the rainy season, but not today. The ferry was full and as the journey progressed, it was evident why the boat was the size and shape it was. Vegetation almost enveloped us at many points and some very careful navigation needed to avoid the propellers becoming jammed up. In between the dense 'jungle' were open tracts of water and numerous villages; the buildings either floating or precariously perched on stilts. The ferry provided a vital lifeline for locals travelling between these villages and if householders didn't possess a boat then they were effectively isolated. Villagers would be rowed out and would clamber aboard. You could see why the ferry doesn't run all year round because even at the end of the monsoon season, which this is, water levels in certain places appeared very low.

It was a welcome change taking the ferry and a great way to spend a day. Most of the passengers were tourists with quite a large Dutch contingent which was good as invariably they are good company. The ferry dropped us off in the centre of Battambang city on the west bank. Accommodation was easy to find and plentiful. I stayed in a small hotel on the east bank next to the large Kings Hotel, very new, the room overlooking the river; excellent quality accommodation for $12 a night. The Royal is a backpackers favourite and good value apparently. Coincidentally, I bumped into two of the Dutch couples who happened to be eating at the same place. They very kindly invited me over. and one couple Judith and Roel invited me over to their hotel on their last night for dinner. A really cracking couple who were superb company. Without question, if you find yourself in Battambang, the place to go is the Gecko Cafe. Believe me, this is as good as it gets. Situated close to the city centre, it occupies the first floor of a French colonial building, having an open seating area on two sides. It has a very welcoming atmosphere and the food, especially the breakfasts are sensational. The atmosphere is created by the staff, all girls who are a real delight, very friendly and speak some English. They are all employed as they have families to support, and on the back of the menu, there is a small cv for each girl explaining her background and intentions. Believe me, if you could transfer these girls to any hotel or catering establishment in the UK, people would be queuing at the door to get in. Oh another good place is Éves Cafe' on the waterfront. Great pancakes as well.

Mandi, a very good friend of mine, worked out here last year as a volunteer and I took the opportunity to look up where she worked. CCT or Cambodian Childrens Trust was set up a few years ago by a young Australian and she continues to be very involved. I met the local 'Manager' and a couple of the volunteers. This trust looks after some 300 children, the majority of which attend school. The trust collects children of all ages, from parents who are unable to fully look after them for a variety of social reasons; having attended the trust or school, they are then returned to their parents in the evening so that the parental bond is maintained. The trust also supports scholarships for more able children to give them a chance to develop their education which is so vital. I learned that many children once they reach a certain academic standard, leave school and return to their families to teach their siblings rather than continue to pursue a career. Most of the volunteer sector is supported by either Australians or Americans.

My purpose for visiting Battambang was twofold; firstly, to apply for a Vietnamese Visa and secondly, because cycling to Phnom Penh looked easier than from Siem Reap because of the larger towns on the way which were more likely to provide accommodation. My initial visit to the Vietnam Consulate lasted about 20 minutes entailing completion of the usual form. I explained to the official that I would very much like a 3 month visa as I was cycling and it would save having to make a sudden pit stop to Saigon or Hanoi to renew. Had I only wanted a 1 month visa, which is the usual length granted, I think they could have done that on the same day, but because I wanted a longer visa, the asked if I would mind returning the following day. This I did, and good on them, they granted the 3 month visa which of course I paid more for, but ultimately, it will save me a lot of hassle later down the line. They could not have been more helpful and hoped I enjoyed cycling through their country. Nice eh!

It took 3 days to cycle to Phnom Penh, in total 293 kms with an even space of towns in between, stopping at Pursat and Kompong Chhnang. The road was dusty although most of the way there was a decent shoulder lane, just as well since the apparent mild mannered people once behind a ton and a half of metal transform into Sebastion Vettal! The worst offenders are the taxis (all Toyota Camrys), mini buses and 4 by 4's. These guys hurtle down the middle of the road, horns blaring continuously as they try to cover the distance between Battambang and the capital in record time. I witnessed some near misses with cattle which frequently wander across the road and also children in villages, where the aforementioned group appear to accelerate as they pass through! There are numerous villages and cycling through you witness the poverty, yet always, people, kids especially shout 'hello' and wave. Yes, you always return the greeting even though after several hours on the road, it wears a bit thin. Its not much to ask, if these kids get a buzz out of it, then responding isnt so hard. I reckon that if I had a dollar for every 'hello' and wave I had given over that 3 day period, I could have afforded to fly first class around the world with Cathay Pacific and still have enough left to stay in a 5 star beach front hotel in the West Indies and consume as many Tom Collins as I liked!

Cycling affords the opportunity to at least connect with the villagers, who chat while passing on scooters or when you stop to buy a drink. I was invited, well directed, to two homes where I spent half an hour or so meeting the families and exchanging some very basic english. The Cambodians are so welcoming, hence the title of this blog. It would be difficult not to be sociable as these people (of all ages) are so friendly and genuinely approachable. How can you not smile when 3 girls on a scooter pass, wave, and say hello, or, when a feller on a scooter loaded with some produce in most bizarre fashion passes you with a smile. I must say that the humidity really takes it out of you; I found recovery time took quite a bit longer, but at least I achieved the timescale I had set.

Phnom Penh is a rapidly transforming city of about one and a half million people. As with most cities, the periphery is dominated by the poorer people, in fact the whole area seems to reflect a self contained market place for them, with every kind of activity imaginable including building materials, repair workshops, welding, cafes etc. These 'dwellings' front onto a dusty 'shoulder' which invariably becomes wind born as lorries and vehicles veer onto these stretches avoiding oncoming traffic. These areas bustle with people and a million tuk tuk drivers. Traffic flow is what you make it, there are no rules as such, well don't seem to be, at any given point of the road, vehicles, tuk tuks and scooters converge in various direction, weaving their way in and out. This occurs in the city centre so its a well tried method. The city centre is changing face; there is a mix of early 20th Century French Colonial, 1960's Khmer buildings and of course the ornate gold leaf temples and Royal Palace. Its a fascinating blend which I suppose sums up these people. Many of the older colonial properties have not been properly maintained and have fallen into some state of disrepair. I understand that a lot of these buildings are being acquired by hoteliers and converted into quality boutique hotels, clearly reflecting the greater demand generated by tourism and the city's ongoing development as a commercial and business centre. It is also good to see the Mekong River again, fast flowing, this river bisects the city and has helped it become an important port. It seems strange that only a few weeks ago, I was watching this river flow some 1,500 kms to the north at Luang Prabang. Its a bit like meeting an old friend. In truth the river at its central point of the city is an extension of the lake, but its classed as a river.

The west bank is where the life blood of the city exists, The tourist hub extends along Sisovath Quay with numerous hotels, hostels, restaurants, tour offices and of course millions of tuk tuk drivers who consistently invite you for the trip of your life!!!! I suppose from a tourist perspective, the place to visit is the Foreign Correspondents Club or as it is known, the FCC. This colonial building overlooks the river and at first and second floors, you can sit watching the sunset with some liquid refreshment attached to your hand between 5pm and 7pm (happy hour). This is the place where foreign correspondents collected during the 1970's particularly, when the Khmer Rouge and Pol Pot played such a part in this country's recent tainted history.

Second only to Angkor Wat, the tourist destination to see is the Killing Fields and S21. In my humble opinion, a visit to both the Killing Fields and S21 is a must if you want to understand this country's darkest period of history and response to what happened. It seems improbable that these events took place during the 1970's and effectively shut out Cambodia from the whole world. The Choeung Ek Genocidal Centre (or as we know it as the Killing Fields) is situated about 15 kms from the city centre. A tuk tuk is the best way of getting there, and wear a face mask on the way since the dirt and dust is quite something. The entrance is low key being accessed down a drive. For $5 you get hooked up to an excellent audio set and so can wander to the sequential markers at your leisure, listening to the history of the site and personal tales from survivors and the guards. Pol Pot imposed his docterine of democratic communism during the mid 1970's until 1978. The son of a wealthy family, he studied in France, not attaining his degree but spending most of his time within the French Communist Party. On his return to Cambodia he taught (something of an irony as many of those murdered were teachers); he instigated his policy of no education, obedience to the party, work and revolution with unbelievable violence. As with many dictatorships, he created his red army from uneducated peasants, villagers and rural communities. These youthful recruits saw a future and he convinced them, which probably didn't take much. Teachers, professional classes of all description were rounded up, tortured and murdered. Throughout Cambodia there are believed to be some 300 killing fields, of which the one at Choeung Ek is considered to be the largest. Many of the others cannot be touched because of live ordnance resulting from USA bombings to prevent fuel lines to the Viet Kong. Walking around the Killing Fields, it is difficult to imagine the horror of what went on. The audio description is at times very graphic. To date 86 of the 129 mass graves have been uncovered accounting for almost 9,000 bodies of children and adults alike. Those that remain uncovered are likely to stay that way to afford respect to the dead. You will see that I have posted a few photographs; some explaining in words what went on; the sites where these horrific deeds took place and shots of the ground where you can see hollows where the graves have been uncovered, and where, through the effluxion of time, the soil has moved. Note also the picture of the tree; words fail me at this point. At this site, you just hang your head at the horror of what happened. This was where the red guards held the children (as young as babies) by their legs and feet and swung then so that their heads connected to the trunk. The brutality was unbelieveable. The largest mass grave uncovered contained 450 bodies. The central feature, or edifice, within the Killing Fields is the Memorial Stupa. Here the skulls and bones have been collected and displayed, dividing the skulls into sex and age group. The museum also shows the tools used to kill these people. It was considered a waste of bullets, so bludgeoning and hacking were the preferred methods of disposal!

Security Office 21 (S21) stands in the centre of Phnom Penh. This is now described as a genocide museum and was designed for detention, interrogation, torture and killing. All detainees were individually documented, some 20,000 were tortured, killed or moved on to the Killing Fields. Again ironically, this building was originally built as a school in the 1960's. Here you can walk into the cells; there are pictures of people and accounts of torture and confessions. Truly dreadful. You wonder how such apparently mild mannered people were capable of such inhumanity. Well I suppose that only a small number of 'focused' individuals appropriately motivated are needed to instill sufficient fear and obedience to a majority of the population; its happening all over the world. Over one quarter of the entire Cambodian population were murdered during this three year period; a staggering statistic. Of course not all the people involved were caught, and some may well be walking the streets now. Something I hadn't noticed, but Judith had, was the apparent few numbers of old people around by comparison with other places. This is true, furthermore, the trauma resulting from this madness resulted in women ceasing their menstrual cycle and therefore being unable to reproduce, so effectively you have a 'gap' of population, both young and old. Arguably one of the most incredible acts of world political decision making was the acceptance of the Khmer Rouge as a legitimate party by no less than the USA, UK, Australia, Germany and France, handing the Khmer Rouge a seat and a voice at the UN!!!

It is without doubt a sobering experience visiting these two locations, but fortunately the Country has recovered and it is hoped that this special land continues to smile in the future for all the right reasons.

I am contemplating taking the ferry down the Mekong to the delta region to Chau Doc in Vietnam. This will definately save on breathing in vast quantities of dust! This is a 6 hour trip and positions me well for the delta and the eventual destination of Saigon. That will be the next blog.

Facebook!!!!

G'day everyone, I just want to thank everyone who has taken the trouble and time to comment on my Facebook page and on the blog. I really am very grateful to you all. I must apologise to you for not replying to anyone. This is because the clowns at Facebook have shut my account down, and have done so for some time so I am unable to log on, receive, read or reply to any of your missives. To say that I am annoyed would be an understatement. The reason given is that there may be a security breach because I am trying to log on from different countries. Well there's a surprise; had they considered clicking on the blog link I think it may have been apparent that I was indeed visiting different countries and that if they had further concerns, perhaps an email to me asking for an explanation may have been a prudent way forward. But no, we are just computer numbers where if something out of the ordinary happens, then its lock down. Don't get me wrong, I applaud security, but lets have a bit of common sense to go with it, something in which Facebook are clearly deficient.So my apologies again; the intention to use Facebook as a social network site was to promote the aims of this challenge and help raise money for 'Children with Cancer UK' or, simply for those who were interested in reading about the journey. I hope that you will understand my inability to respond, and please continue to comment in whatever form you wish; hopefully on my return to the UK, I will be able to read your comments. Thank you once again for taking the time and trouble to find the site and I hope you enjoy the blogs in the future. Best wishes.

From Laos and into Cambodia

My final evening in Vientiane was something of a gamechanger in so far as my plans were concerned. Having spoken with a couple who had travelled from central Laos up to the capital, they suggested that apart from a road and a few villages that was it for the best part of 500 kms. Studying the map I realised that the first 200kms I would be heading north and only then back to the same latitude at Vientiane. I decided to head back through Thailand, so cycled to Ubon Thani (about 100kms), caught the sleeper train to Bangkok and then cycle from Bangkok to Cambodia. Having cycled from Bangkok on virtually the same route I didnt feel bad aboutdoing the return on a train.

Got through the Laos/Thai customs in 10 minutes, unbelievable. Wearing a football shirt seems to do it for these chaps, absolutely whistled through, chatting about English teams, no worries. Must say that I have found with all the customs guys, plus military and police from every country I have visited, just how helpful they are, especially when they know what I'm doing. Hope this continues as on more than one instance it has proved to be to my enormous benefit.

Arrived in Bangkok at 7am having enjoyed a cracking sleep on the train. Managing to lug Cynthia off the train, which is no mean feat given that the height of the carriage is 3 feet above the platform and the carriage doors are not exactly wide. In the main concourse I filled up on coffee and donuts and tried to work out how to get out of the city. Eventually, having completed a circuit of sorts, I got onto the right road, we are now talking some 4 hours later and going nowhere. My navigation skills are suspect as I freely admit, but it doesn't help when you have 3 roads all numbered the one you think you want. Anyhow, sorted eventually, and I think I now know my way around east Bangkok reasonably well, so always a plus.

The distance between Bangkok and Poipet (border) is about 3 days comfortable cycling and not pushing it. Mind you in this humidity its hard to rack up the mileage although I have improved from a pathetic 60kms a day when I first started cycling in Thailand heading to Laos, to a more respectable 100 - 110kms so I must be getting conditioned to it. It doesn't alter the fact that it is not the most favourite cycling conditions, although the malaria tabs have settled which is a real plus.

The topography to the Thai border is flat, wetlands and rice paddies, intersperced by numerous villages and towns. Fortunately, the towns were evenly spaced for each days cycling and my last night I held up 6kms from the border at Aranthaprathet, and set off early the following morning to cross at Poipet. Like all land border crossings, the whole place was bustling with markets, taxis, people wanting to take you here there and everywhere for cheap price! On the Thai side they have a scam whereby they tell you they will get you a Cambodian visa, not telling you that you still have to pay again as you hit the Cambodian immigration. Very naughty, Lonely Planet held this up, and thank you to them, not that I would have gone down that route. I was approached and politely told them where to go despite there insistance that without there help I would not get into Cambodia!!!!!!!! Nice try fellers but no lollypop!! Crossing the border was dead easy, just follow a dirt road along with loads of others, pass casinos and hotels inbetween, which look like real dens of iniquity, and then sort the visa for Cambodia which took $20 and 10 minutes, oh and the immigration chap was insistant that he look at Cynthia just to see her, and sound her klaxon. The klaxon has proved quite a hit with the locals, and often when in a shop I hear it sound with kids all around it. I heard the Cambodian Visa is a good one to get as its artistically very attractive; it is.

Having cleared the border I headed for Sissaphon about 50 kms up the road. As with Thailand the road was pretty straight with a decent cycle shoulder, either side being rice paddies, irrigated by numerous streams and rivers, where the locals fish with nets which they cast in the water. These places are also a magnate for kids who jump and swim in the often muddy waters; in fact thinking about it my experience of most kids is up to their necks in water. Unlike Thailand, which offered frequent petrolstations with either 7/11's or Tesco Lotus convenience stores, there is non of that in Cambodia. Here if you want a drink you pull in at a village where many of the shops are effectively extensions of their dwellings. Ususally a tin roof shack, dusty floor with sleeping area, while to the front is a display of rustic shelving with limited stock and a large red ice box where the drinks are kept. Very few places have a proper upright chiller, consequently the drinks arn't that cold. A bloke in a lorry comes by and delivers ice slabs which he cuts with a saw from a 6 foot by 1 foot section and places the cut ice slabs into the red box. I love stopping at these places, which I do often as it gives me a chance to say hello and put a dollar or two into their pockets. Without exception, when you stop and buy, the lady will bring out a chair to sit on in the shade. They really are so couteous and charming. I always make a big deal about thanking them. All the way the kids wave and shout hello; they pass you on motor scooters and turn and just melt you with their smiles and a wave. Cute doesnt do them justice. Some who have learn't a little English come and talk to you. They are something. Almost without exception every dwelling has a tv and its on all day; most households also seem to own a scooter. Now these are a piece of work and are used for just about everything. Few wear crash helmuts, and its not unusual to see mum, dad and up to 3 kids astride a 125cc honda; but the best is when they use these bikes to transport stuff. I saw one bike loaded so much with 4 sacks which I reckoned were 8 feet wide (as the cycle shoulder is about 6 feet) and at least 6 foot high; the rider was all over the place. They carry livestock, you often see 2 full sized dead pigs strapped on the back, trotters in the air. They also have a cunning version of trailers, designed for whatever task needed again for livestock or pallets of goods, very inventive.

I cycled from Sissaphon to Seim Reap (about 110 kms) arrived around 2 pm, located the tourist office and found an excellent place to stay for $12 and you get a breakfast thrown in. On the way in, scooters would come alongside and the drivers would chat to you and welcome you, just that, just being friendly. Seim Reap is a city about the size of Exeter and from the direction I entered, the first impression is definately that of a tourist city. You cycle down what I call the strip, big hotels either side, a bit like Vegas, well a very little bit, but you get the idea; then you hit the centre where there are examples of French colonial architecture which is very attractive. The main centre of activity is focused around the Old Market where there are a proliferation of bars, restaurants, massage parlors, shops etc. This is backpacker country and close to where my place is.

So ok, I have set the scene, people come here for one reason; to see Angkor Wat. This complex of temples lies about 7 kms to the north and having purchased a ticket enroute you are free to go and explore. Needless to say there are motor bikes to hire, bikes with carriage trailers, limos, buses; well the while myriad of transportation, making its way from Seim Reap to Angkor like ants. At this point, I assuming you are reasonably fit I would recommend cycling; take your time meandering along, stop off check out the temples, stop for a beer or two, its a great way of seeing this amazing piece of history and architecture. I am not going to give a history of the place, suffice to say Angkor which is the main temple means Capital City and was the capital of the Khmer empire that existed in this area between the 9th and 12th centuries. At its height more than 1 million people lived here. The size of the site is several kilometers square and you wouldnt walk it. Although Angkor Wat is the one everyone knows, its not my personal favourite; Bayon and some of the smaller temples are more interesting and visually impressive. If you are a keen historian you would want to spend weeks here, I am not, for me I like to focus on the vista impact and setting of a place, the wow factor I suppose. Thats me being a superficial kind of bloke when it comes to history; I want to be informed as to the general history but not to overturn every stone if you see what I mean. I have posted pics of the visit although I am sure most of you are familiar with this place. It has a wonderful setting including a lake moat around Angkor Wat itself and you travel through dense woodland.

I spent a day and for me that was sufficient, I took Cynth out for the day, it was strange riding her without panniers; the first time since I left England. Nearly fell off as the front span round being so light and responsive; I'm used to handling the equivalent of a tank. Thought I'd see what she could do on the flat and there was a stretch of 1.3 kms straight between temples. Managed to keep at or above 30 kms/hr for the entire length, felt quite pleased as she is a lump weighing in at 18kgs and fitted with 2.25" Marathon XR tyres so she is no sleek roadbike.

Angkor Wat is hugely impressive and a must see place. As I mentioned above, I tend to judge a place on its wow factor, how it affects me when I see it. I appreciate this is not how many people may judge a place and I fully accept that. I would place Angkor Wat third behind Home Park and the Tamar Bridge!!! Sorry, excuse the flippancy, I realise I am perhaps entering the realms of fantasy here, or maybe not! I would place Angkor Wat third behind the Taj Mahal (2nd) and a long way behind my personal favourite Machu Pichu (1st).

Planning on staying in Seim Reap for another day then catching a ferry across the water to Battembang (can't make Phnom Penh as you can only do that in monsoon season. Battembang is supposed to be definately worth seeing and it will be different to take the ferry. I hear they make a half decent cake there as well!! Then on to the capital but thats for later. For now a beer and supper later at the Red Piano which is pretty good. Oh, as I am sure most of you know Cambodia is very cheap so I can really pack the calories in in preparation for the next leg. Cheers.

Laos - a bit extra!

Just a brief update and by way of an apology my information concerning the railway described in the previous blog appears incorrect. Typical, having just completed the blog yestderday, I was regaining the strength of my fingers around a beer glass by the river and chatting to two Dutch representatives working with NGO who were attending a conference. They were also of the opinion that the railway was due to be built that would fast track a route between China and Singapore. Overhearing the conversation was an Aussie builder who has lived here for twenty years and seems to have a sound grasp of what's going on in the country. According to him, the Laos Government have apparently decided not to agree to a railway. It had been verbally discussed and there was a suggestion that some agreement had been reached and money changed hands, but the latest seems to be no railway line, which would incidently, have passed by the fringe of LP en-route to Vientiane. So perhaps the prospective travellor will have a little more time to enjoy LP in its present state.

The Laos flag consists of three horizontal bars, a central blue band (incorporating a white centrally positioned circle) either side of which is a red band. They also fly another flag, all red with the hammer and sickle. Now the full name for Laos is the Peoples Democratic Republic which can be interpreted in a number of ways, however, the meaning of the flag is supposed to highlight work. Interpretation seems to be something of a grey area, but from what little I have seen, and from what people who live here say, the lower income do get looked after and that is clearly evident. It appears that the poorest region in Laos is to the east bordering with Vietnam. The reason is that they cannot grow enough rice to sustain them for the whole year since they cannot expand their agricultural holdings. This is due to the danger from unexploded ordnance: Laos was effectively carpet bombed during the war. In fact the whole indo-china region has similar warnings, and a number of people have mentioned to me since arriving in this part of the world, not to go cycling 'off piste' so to speak; stick to the main roads at all times.

Now back in Vientiane having taken the sleeper coach. It was fine, only drawback is that the berths are ideal for anyone under 5'6'' (Laos size), anything much over and you develop contortionist techniques!

Luang Prabang or Shangri La!

Its a small town, population around 25,000 situated some 300+ kms north of Vienitiane and it could be a whole word away. Access is by bus or plane; the latter costs around $90 whereas the bus takes 10 hours and follows a series of S bends pretty much from start to finish. Most visitors take the bus; three leave every day, perhaps more now that high season is upon this neck of the woods. High season being November to February, coinciding with the more temperate climate.

Luang Prabang (hereafter shortened to LP) is like nowhere else I have visited, perhaps second only to Machu Pichu. It is a gem that unfortunately has been discovered, and will undoubtably become a backpackers favourite, well its getting that way already. The bus ride up was full of highs, I recommend that at least one direction you should travel in daylight, simply to see the unbelievable mountain formations rising from the jungle. Vertical rock and sugar loaves in all directions form an almost unique vista, it looks like something out of Jurassic Park and to be honest if we had seen brachiopods grazing it wouldn't have been out of place. The mountain villages, quite isolated although at roadside each form there own community. Most have a school and kids cycle to and from holding umbrellas for extra shade, looks like Mary Poppins. All the kids wear uniform and all are very smart, which given the dust and the washing facilities is something. Each village has a shop and as evening draws on, everyone heads to the communal washing area which may be a stream or pond, and having washed they all troup back to the village together. There is a real sense of community here, people eat together and look after each other. Each village seems to have communal washing lines and the harvest of red chilli's drying on cloth or a tin bowl that looks like a dustbin lid. There is a serenity about the lao people, they smile always say hello and are delighted when you take an interest in their produce. The whole way of lie avoids confrontation, I am sure if you shouted or argued or showed any form of verbal aggression, they would not know what to do. They are lovely people. What surprised me both travelling through Lao and in LP itself was the apparent quality of life. The village properties are built of cane or brick, substantial and I have not seen any beggars since arriving in the Country. All around is lush broad leaved vegetation with the backdrop of the aforementioned mountains.

LP itself, well how do I describe this place. There aren't enough superlatives really. Nestling beside the Mekong river, this town features some wonderful colonial architecture and heritage. It is a UNESCO site so although growth will occur one would like to think that the current character would be retained, but Im not holding my breath. The locals here know this place is about to explode onto the tourist map big time, and the tour operators and tuk tuk drivers already have the well worn tourist phrases in English and are targetting every westerner or non-Lao that passes. There are a lot of guest houses, all appear really well maintained, plus temples and markets and a shed load of bars and restaurants in town and along the river. Having a beer watching the sun set on the river is a real pleasure. LP is gearing up for the season, the sound of hammering neever far away. There are only two main streets, one 'inland' the other along the Mekong, each linked by a series of narrow streets mostly with guest houses. The vegetation is colourful, the town is very clean and it is a delight just to wander aimlessly around it at leisure. From here you can take a variety of tours to see watefalls, trek etc and a couple days is plenty to get a good feel for the town itself. There are loads of places to hire cycles and motorbikes if you wish to explore further. I am sure LP will change as more visitors put it on their itinerary; I have heard that China intends to build a railway through Laos to Vientiane which supposedly would link with LP, I hope that doesn't happen as I can't imagine the character remaining the same after that. 2014 is said to be the date this is going to take place, so if you want to see LP as is now, best get here sooner rather than later. As with all Laos, there is a very relaxed atmosphere here, beyond the river is the jungle canopy which extends down to the waters edge, beyond which are the mountain ranges which seem to curve around enclosing the whole scene. It is beautiful. I can see why they call it Shangri La it must be pretty close to it, and I think the locals have now woken up to this so lets just hope the balance stays so that visitors in years to come will feel the same sensation about this place that exists today.

Will try and get photos posted asap, this is always a problem for some reason in Laos, but if not here, then certainly when I get back to the capital.

As always, its great to catch up with everyone who kindly sends emails and texts; forget facebook, they have shut my account down, this is because I am visiting so many countries that a security block kicks in. Not bothered, as most of you know I thing facebook is a total waste of space and only signed up to it for the benefit of the blog. Thank you to those who do contact me though, its great to get your news, and of course get up to speed on the hot issues of the day like Plymouth winning again yesterday. Awesome result, even better when that rabble in red and white strips up the road lost at home.

Have given some thought as to progress from here. Originally it had been my intention to cycle through Laos into Cambodia. This is fine until the map shows me that there is only one road border crossing into Cambodia and after that I have to head south virtually to the Vietnam border then backtrack to Seim Reep and Ankor Wat. Then I would have to cycle back again to Phnom Penh. So I think I will catch the train back to Bangkok, and then cycle from ther eastwards into Cambodia. So effectively, keeping the journey going in an east direction; the cycle to Laos being an offshoot so to speak. I shall be sorry to leave LP but I know that there is so much ahead so hey, lets get travelling!



 

The Millionaire bit!

Forgot to mention that in Laos, the currency is the Kip of which apprximately 12,700 kip equals a pound. They have no coins only notes, the lowest denomination is 500 kip which by my reckoning is around 6p, At the ATM this afternoon I drew out 1,500,000 kip which is about 120 pounds give or take a few thousand kip. Never thought I would see a million of anything in my pocket!So off to celebrate this new status and blow the froth off a couple!4

Laos, I'm a millionaire at last!

Crossed the border at the Friendship Bridge which lies some 22 kms east of the capital Vientiane. No worries whatsoever, a seamless transfer from Thailand into Laos, the visa and all checks took around 30 minutes, could not have been easier.

But first the cycle through north Thailand. Having taken a somewhat circuitous route out of Bangkok, I came back onto the main road known as highway 2 which leads to the Friendship Bridge. This is a busy route mainly 2 and 3 carriageways with a Frontage Street which you can access at every decent size town and city, meaning you can stop and shop safely and rejoin the main road a little further on. Also, there is a full width shoulder lane for cyclists and motor cycles which is great, so a doddle of a route. Never seen a nation of such spontaneous smilers, they are all at it; its impossible not to smile back. Whenever I stopped for something to eat at a roadside cook up, they kindly invited me in, indeed a pleasant change from previous places where the crowds surround you with the thought of 'A tourist, how many rupees can we rip him off for!!!" Street food was pretty good, stuck to the hot stuff, bbq duck was a favourite, at least I think it was duck. The birds are smaller than in the UK and they have this quaint ritual of battering them until they resemble a pancake. So plenty of dislocated bones to navigate around, but ok nonetheless. Immediately beyond Bangkok, the topography is flat, wetland areas, saw numerous snakes, light yellow in colour and a huge lizard, must have been three to four feet, black with bright green striations down its back. The further north you went, the landscape turned agricultural/semi tropical. Monkeys swung around the telegraph poles and wires. From a cyclists perspective ideal cycling since there were no hills at all. The down side was the high humidity which was tough to deal with. Within 5 minutes of setting off, you were soaked in sweat, literally rivers of the stuff falling down the side of my head, down my trunk and legs and into my feet, Had to stop every half an hour to replenish liquid, fortunately, there were plenty of opportunities in the numerous towns and villages along the way to fill up. The dehydration and exercise didn't exactly compliment the malaria tabs I was taking, but with a bit of judicious shifting as to when to take the tablet, I felt much better.

The route through Thailand, well the route I took was probably not the most scenic, however, the people made up for it, and it was always a pleasure to stop and spend a few minutes with them at roadside. I tried to do this most of the time, however, the need for a few minutes air conditioning proved too much of a need on some occasions so I stopped off at a 7 /11 or, would you believe a Tesco Lotus. (Must have taken the marketing boys at Tesco a few sleepless nights to come up with that one!!). I stayed in hotels of various quality although all were ok. In the smaller towns, there were rarely any hotels advertised, but went under the name Resorts, which could mean a few chalet style units tucked away behind the town or on the periphery. They charge around 6 pounds a night for double room with air con and ensuite. For an extra 500 baht (about 10 pounds) you can order a young lady to keep you warm. Now I know why Tesco came up with Lotus!

So into Laos, from Friendship Bridge I had to cycle 22 kms into the city. I had downloaded the lonely Planet onto my kindle (incidently; apart from my brick of a phone, the kindle is the best thing I put in the pannier.) so headed for the guest house in question. Unfortunately, they were full for that day so booked up for 3 days and found a billet close by. Vientiane has a population of some 700,000 and is a quiet city. Very attractive and full of character displaying the legacy of French colonialism. The architecture, and street signs have the French imprint which is very stylish. Of course there are the historic temples and monuments such as That Dam and of course nowhere would be the same without a statue of the former king; King Fa Ngoum who stands in commanding posture overlooking the Mekong River.  The centre piece of the city is the Avenue Lane Xang which extends from the Presidential Palace (which itself overlooks the Mekong) and extends north to the Victory Monument built in 1957 although looks older. The Avenue itself is broadly the equivalent of Pall Mall/Whitehall with many of the Ministeries and major financial institutions either side.

Last evening, as is my habit, to celebrate the arrival in a new country I always celebrate with a few beers, sort of good luck charm. Well found a 4th floor bar overlooking the Mekong and watched the sun go down, just beautiful. There is something about the light which distinguishes south east Asia, just as the light in Dubai and Abu Dhabi reflect the Middle East. I count myself as probably one of the most fortunate human beings on the planet, being able to see these sights and take in such incredible places, good and bad. The sunset was a superb introduction to Laos. The French of course were all over Indo China like a rash and who could blame them. Given the choice between IndoChina and India (incorporating Pakistan as was) I know which I would have preferred and which would get my vote; the French were not daft. Strangely, I watched BBC World News last night. I'm not a fan of the BBC, much prefer CNN, but they interviewed the Indian housing minister about the problems facing Delhi. With the increased wealth, people are pouring into the city looking for work, plus they reckon 1,000 cars a day are being added. The minister believes high rise is the answer, with opposition saying no keep the city low rise and green. Well 4 million people are living in slums according to the report, and having come off the land, I cannot see them settling in a box on the 20th floor somewhere! That I think would take some persuasion. Well it didn't work in the West Minister, certainly not in the UK in the 60's at any rate. Try cleaning the place first and getting some decent infrastructure in place.

Cuisine in Laos is sensational, just about everything you could ask for is here. Beer is excellent too, which is far more important. Traditional French, asian just everything. Oh and they have a place called Jomo Bakery which does all day American Breakfasts. Unbelievable, waffles with maple syrup and cream, just the most sublime way to start the day.

Memo for Ed Wilkes GM Manor House Hotel, Studland Bay

Ed, think the need to introduce waffles and griddle cakes is a must for the hotel. Guests would love them. Its a winner. Get Pat onto it, he would do a good job. Definately not Alain, he's French and has no concept of good food whatsoever!

Plan on exploring the city for the next couple of days, then heading for Luang Prabang which I have heard is sensational. I shall leave Cynth at the hotel and take a bus, a 10 hour trip all mountainous. So for now xok dee and la korm (thats good luck and goodbye).

Bangkok, no chess but great place!

Good to have arrived in a country that takes a pride in its place and its people. For those of you unfamiliar with Bangkok, its a great city, vibrant and full of colour and places to visit. India was described in one of the Lonely Planet books  as the most colourful country in the world, or pretty close to that. I beg to differ unless of course you like shades of brown. Whoever wrote that article must have had a white stick. I would suggest that Bolivia, the West Indies and Brazil may have something to say about that, indeed many other countries as well.

Bangkok is a true international city, great place to visit, loads to see and do. The numerous air conditioned malls meet and run alongside the covered street vendors at roadside and its a blend that works. Its a pleasure wandering through the street stalls; the vendors give you no hassle so you just feel comfortable looking and buying. I have brought stacks here, replenished stuff that has been left behind, broken, damaged or worn out. The street food is also great. Didn't get the chance in India, too busy avoiding the touts and vendors seeking to make a rupee out of you.

Its cheap here as well, my hotel is a good 2 almost 3 star and is only 13 pounds a night, which is only a couple of quid more than I was paying in Delhi and believe me, there is no comparison. Bangkok is a great place to stay and plan for the next move. Picked up some great maps and have sorted the route, the first part of which takes me north east through Thailand to Laos crossing at Venetiene, then north to Luang Prabang, and then back south following the Mekong into Cambodia and onto Vietnam. There is a cycle route along the Mekong Delta which I also want to do.People I have spoken to rave about Laos and Cambodia, well the entire S.E.Asian area gets a big thumbs up. I'm having to hole up here as a typhoon is due to hit tomorrow (Sunday) and Monday, well the residue of it, still quite a lot of rain is predicted. So hopefully head out on tuesday.

Meanwhile I have given Cynth a major scrub up and checked her over after the flights; she has come out pretty well unscathed, which I feel is due in no small measure to the quality of build at Thorn. The bike is superb chaps, thank you. Also stacking up on the food. The hotel does a particularly excellent breakfast buffet. Bacon and eggs with tomato, pancakes, egg fried rice, maple syrup and ketchup on the same plate does amazing things to my tastebuds, a positive myriad of flavours! Cannot whack it and sets you up for the day. Bangkok, its great.





 

Incredible India!! Don't think so.

Have been here almost a week, so perhaps enough time to draw some initial conclusions and gain some opinion on this Country. I won't pull any punches, but will try to be as objective as I can.

India is without doubt the dirtiest filthiest Country I have ever visited. Rubbish piles pervade on just about every street, though obviously not the leafy areas of the Embassies. Pretty much everywhere in towns and villages, it is a common site to see cows, pigs and dogs scavenging for something to eat on these rubbish piles; yes even the cows have taken to chewing cardboard boxes. The place smells like a urinal, hardly surprising when walking along Chelmsford Road, which links New Delhi Station with Connaught Place, it is a common site to see the local fellers splashing their boots and other business along the wall and pavement even though a free convenience is located within a few yards. Connaught Place (Delhi) is a circular central feature with colonnades; in its day very imposing, and while there are many international brands are located within these walls, they are intersperced with local shops which are invariably run down and unattractive. In fairness, it doesn't help that many of the streets are in various states of repair largely due to work on the metro. In the station and along many streets it is commonplace to see men and women crashed out on the pavement or set back on a softer dust pile. This unfortunately reflects the real India. India is considered as an emerging economy which I am sure is the case, but it concerns me that with a population of 1.2 billion and growing that the relatively small percentage of 'earners' can continue to earn at a pace where the fortunes of the burgeoning poor can be improved. This to my mind is the huge challenge India faces at the outset. Where I am staying and the way I am travelling means that I think I get to see the real India, not the Bollywood that is sometimes portrayed. India remains a poor country with a huge gulf between the few rich and the many poor.

Wandering around Delhi, you are immediately targetted as a tourist and therefore every tout makes a B line for you. I have no problem with the cycle rickshaw drivers or the tuk tuk drivers, who pull up and invite you on board. Most are fine with a polite no and a smile; those that become more persistant, just firmer in response, but thats ok. No the worst as I say are the touts who sidle up alongside and start what they think is a polite conversation but you know its the onset of a grilling:
Where are you from?
Where are you going?
What do you want to buy?
Invariably working in pairs or as a team, they will pull every stunt to persuade you to follow them to a shop or tourist office where of course they get a commission. With these guys I give them very short change, very direct in my response once they wont accept my privacy or desire not to follow them. For those who plan on visiting dont go to any other tourist bureau other than 88 Jaynath (off Connaught Place) once there ask for a reputable place to book a tour. I booked the Agra tour through a Govt agency in Coffee Home two streets to the left of Jaynath on their recommendation. For fun, I also tried one of the touts recommendations, and for comparison purposes, they wanted to charge me 8500 rupees whereas the official operator charged 1134 rupees including guide, although entrance fees were on top, but then so would the other have been. The problem is that you become wary that everyone is a tout, and the genuine people of which there are many become tarred with the same brush. There are signs everywhere, not to deal with touts, and it doesnt exactly endear one to remain long in the place.

I have taken two tours, one to Jaipur and the other to Agra. I visited Jaipur by train, takes about 4 hours and is cheap. The railway is the preferred local carrier, they reckon that some 500,000 people a day pass through Delhi station. The place is heaving, and the 17 or so platforms all have trains with about the same number of carriages. It is necessary to book days in advance as every train is always full. A pub question could be, who is the worlds largest employer? The answer is Indian Railways with 1.4million employees!!!! Jaipur itself is located some 250kms to the west of Delhi in Rajastan. Having grabbed a taxi I did the sights including the Pink City so called because of the paintwork, the Amber Fort and the Floating Palace, the latter two being some 16 kms from the city. Very impressive although I think you have to go a long way to beat the coastal castles in Northumberland. I caught the sleeper train back to Delhi arriving at 5am. This was an experience, clearly well overbooked, my bunk was taken. This caused a point of discussion with other passengers, one of whom proceeded to unceremoniously poke the bag of rags on my bunk, and drag it off. This bag of rags turned out to be an old Indian lady, and I immediately told this bloke to stop, and that she was welcome to have the bunk. 'No, she sleep on floor' he replied to general consensus. 'No, end of' I replied and that was that. I got chatting to two more Indian ladies and shared their bunk until the conductor came along and asked me to regain my bunk or sit in its proximity. He then announced that the bunk was his, and proceeded to invite  the ladies to sleep on the carriage floor which they did. And who said the age of chivalry was dead!!!!! One feller I subsequently met on the Agra tour mentioned that woman bashing was quite the thing in many households. This is perhaps another facet of Indian life that needs attention. The train stank of urine, essentially, the outside doors were open and you just peed into the wind, or spat which is also a firm local favourite activity.

Agra was an excellent trip, 10 of us in two microbuses; the journey there took about 3 hours with a breakfast stop and a chance to stroke an Indian Cobra! We first touched onto the temple and Sandikara, before hitting the main event at the Taj Mahal. Agra itself is a very unattractive place, as everywhere the cacophany of noise from vehicle traffic and the traffic congestion itself was immense. The Taj seemed almost incongruous in its setting, although from the other side by the river its is superb. Millions of visitors of course, but it is spectacular and a definate must see. I love the Arabic/muslim architecture and the way they manage to use light. Its quite breathtaking and with the Taj well, spectacular. We were able to wander around and inside, worth the trip alone. The Red Fort was the final stop, well apart from the obligatory hustle into a marble shop. I met up with a young Chinese guy called Long Dong (would be a hard name to call in the UK dont you agree, imagine the stick he would get, but he was great company). He was doing well as he comes over to purchase silver and other products to ship back to Shanghai. He kindly gave me his card with an invitation to call when I pass through. The Red Fort is also very impressive. The journey back had its high spot to, since our vehicle was emitting blue smoke to the point where you couldn't see out the window, and by half time it was making inroads into the vehicle itself. So windows down so we didn't get CO poisoning, although the driver didn't seem to worry. WE also had a shunt, the driver got out, chatted to the bloke who ran into us and decided the dents hadn't got any bigger so they left it at that and drove off. Well this is India!

So what now, well for the moment the Inca Quickstep prevails so I'm not going anywhere for a day or so. But having sen what I have seen and the way I feel about things I have been playing for time. It had been my intention to set off yesterday, but I have dragged my heels. In short I am bottling out of India, I dont like it one bit, it does absolutely nothing for me,and I really don't fancy cycling across it. So I have booked a flight to Thailand for Wednesday and will head on from there. Yes, I do feel I am cheating, but I have had enough of this country and I see no incentive to stay. They say India is mystic and has an abundance of quality, well sorry I don't see it. Its just a dirty place that does nothing at all for me.

Heading for India (and cannot wait)

First of all, it was terrific to catch up with Steve and enjoy a few beers in Tbilisi, just sorry I missed James who was coming out two days after I left.

The flight to Dubai was absolutely fine and at this point I should like to praise Qatar who were so helpful and went out of there way to assist with the bike. I checked in early and the representative was only to happy to take all my gear and weigh it, indicating that it should be ok. Unfortunately two panniers were not weighed, so when I checked in I was considerably over the limit, well Cynth weighs in at 18kgs which doesn't leave much for me! After a very brief discussion they waived me through; no penalty incurred as the flight wasn't full (about 90% full). Of course the garden was rosie as I didn't have to pay any excess, but seeing the charity T shirt I was wearing they were simply great. Wow, I fully understand and appreciate that it is not possible for every passenger to check in well over the limit; but where flights are not full and distance and fuel consumption permits, it is a real plus when airlines adopt a common sense and helpful stance. So thank you Qatar, a terrific airline, your customer service, even if I had had to pay, was still excellent.

I have now been in Dubai a week, staying with my ex-boss Jonathan, his wife Carol and their three children who are simply sensational. I cannot thank them enough for their hospitality, I mean life is tough enough with a young family so their kindness is so much appreciated. It has been over 3 years since I was last here and in Abu Dhabi (which I also visited). Although by Middle East standards and UAE standards, growth has been modest, there are definate 'green shoots'. Projects are progressing; the metro in Dubai is open; buildings in progress are being 'topped off', the Palm continues to be developed; there being several hotels under construction; while in Abu Dhabi, Reem Island is undergoing rapid transformation with the construction of the Gate; the new road from Yas and the airport is open while major residential developments have also progressed. So its not all doom and gloom and while things are still relatively quiet for this part of the world; there is sufficient to suggest that investors will still see this country as a place to do business. I'm not a political animal, but it seems to me that the UK could certainly adopt a stance of investing strongly in capital projects and infrastructure as the UAE has done. I appreciate the debt ratios are probably not comparable, but the concept of investment and development is not a bad one. For my two pennyworth, and its easy for me to say as I live in Devon; but the logic of considering an alternative to an additional third runway at Heathrow defies me. Here (UAE) and in China they just do it, and the Government should stop prevaricating and just get on with it. Wherever its built, there will be opposition.

 I have been fortunate in so far as the processing of the Indian visa could have taken twice as long, and one thing I have always been concerned with is not to burden Carol and Jonathan with an extra body! It has been a delight to see them again and the kids for the first time. They have made me so welcome so a huge thank you to them for all they have done.

Its been almost 40 years since I last stepped foot in India. At that time the visit culminated what was the end of a two year travelfest, where I hitch hiked from Durban through Africa, to the Med, then across Turkey, Iran (you could get in then, just walk across the border-how times change), Afghanistan (which as with Iran, was a fascinating country to visit), Pakistan via the Khyber Pass, and then into India. At that time I travelled around Jammu and Kashmir (which was a bit lively!), visiting Srinigar, Lake Dal, then by train, back to Jammu and Delhi. During this period, and I guess because I was a bit run down, I caught pretty much everything India had to offer and was below par, to the extent that I didn't visit Agra, Jaipur or any of the other places one would want to visit in this amazing country. So returning now, full of beans and ready to do battle with the road conditions, I cannot wait to arrive in Delhi and kick start the journey again. There are of course many places I want to visit, and I havent set myself a time limit, but want to savour this country. I will end up in Calcutta and I hope to visit Darjeeling, oh there are so many places I want to go. While I have enjoyed every aspect of the cycle so far, I think it will get very interesting from here on in, and continue through Asia, wow, what a prospect, I feel like a kid in a sweet shop not knowing which way to turn. Isn't travel the best!!!! I'll try and remember that when I'm caught short with some bug or bite when no doubt I shall be cursing like a good'un! See you in India.

Tbilisi in late summer

Still here in Tbilisi and will remain so for another couple of weeks. Met up with Steve, my old boss from Kazakhstan who is over here to spread his empire and open another office under the Veritas Brown/Cushman & Wakefield banner. I am going to assist though in what capacity I'm not sure; hence the reason for the extended stay. Meanwhile I am making the most of the late summer weather and have explored pretty much most locations, certainly in the central area. I am staying in a hostel just off Rustaveli Avenue; a mainly tree lined avenue which forms the main road through the city centre. The architecture along this avenue is generally striking, very attractive and European in feel and design. There is a lot of building activity taking place in and around the city. This appears to be on the back of considerable international 'investment' in recent years, mainly from Washington. Georgia really does appear to be open for business; no visas are required for many nationalities and apparently, it is the third easiest place in the world to start a business (behind New Zealand and A.N. Other) which is surprising given that it is ex Soviet Union where paper and stamps are needed in volumes and continue to be so in the Stans. There are a lot of Americans here, although the bulk of the tourists comprise Israelis and Polish.

The city offers the usual high street brands familiar in the UK including Next, Mothercare and Bata. For anyone visiting Tbilisi I have found the best patisserie/coffee shop and bookstore. Located on Rustaveli Avenue (well set back) beneath the Canadian Consulate (God's Country so it must be good!) stands Prospero's which also features an attractive outdoor courtyard. This is my morning pilgrimage and it's great. It's also a good meeting place and I have enjoyed several conversations with Americans over a French Press coffee. One in particular with a young lady called Camilla, a recently qualified Architect from DC who was so typically enthusiastic as most Americans are; a real delight. As I was taken for a German in Turkey, here I am taken for an American by the locals.

My time here has not simply been spent increasing my caffeine intake. I have been researching which route I should take next, definitely a process of elimination. Geographically I have hit something of an impass since I am unable to proceed through Iran. A great shame this, not simply because of the convenience and directness of route, but because I have heard nothing but positive and glowing tributes as to how beautiful the country is and how friendly and welcoming the people are. I have met several Iranians since arriving in Tbilisi, one couple are staying at my hostel, and they are charming, ready to extend a cordial invitation to stay with them if I ever got the chance to enter the country. The other factor apart from geography is cost. I'm afraid I don't have the luxury of too much time or bottomless pockets so this becomes a consideration.

I have looked into heading through the Stans, cycling up to Almaty, then flying to Delhi since by the time I hit Almaty, I think the winter would have kicked in, making crossing the Himalayas unlikely. The cost to get into Azerbaijan is $174, where I have to be to collect the various Stans visas. I estimate the cost on top of this (and it is certainly possible to get these visas) would be in excess of $500. Then an air flight on top plus living expenses etc. The other practical problem is that most likely I would only get a 5 day visa for Turkmenistan. It would be necessary for me to cycle across a desert of 476kms in that time to the Uzbek border and I'm not overly confident that these geriatric legs could do the job. It may sound that I am putting obstacles in the way, and I know it can be done as many others have done it. So my conclusion is that on leaving Tbilisi, I shall fly to Dubai and stay for a week, hopefully obtain my Indian visa and then fly on to Delhi. From Delhi I start pedaling hard and plan to cycle to Kolcutta along the north route into the tea plantation areas, plus of course visiting places like Varanasi. From there its into SE Asia proper where I will be able to gauge at first hand how best to access these countries; it appears that Bangkok will be the principal hub to collect a number of visas, but non should be difficult to obtain. Myanmar, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam and China are all on the list.I then have a choice when I get to the South China Sea as to whether I keep turning left and heading north through China to South Korea and Japan, or take a right and drop into Australia but that decision is for later.So that is the game plan in outline, so by doing what I am doing to get to India, I am in effect only missing out on Iran and Pakistan (a big chunk I know).

So Dubai here we come!

A rainy night in Georgia!

Well thats the title of the song, different Georgia but the sentiments hold true. Wow, does it know how to rain here as well.

Its been about a week since leaving Trabzon and arriving here in Tbilisi. What two contrasting Countries which you notice almost immediately on crossing the border at Sarpi. Having become used to the semi arid conditions in Turkey and the cycling along dual carriageway' literally within 20kms the scenery becomes verdent green with species very familiar including ferns, lilac and avenues of Horse Chestnut which are now turning to their autumn plumage. Although the main road, it is single carriageway and the vegetation enroaches to roadside making you feel far more part of the landscape than the former dual carriageway. It is around 20 kms to the main border city of Batumi which lies on the coast and which is undergoing development although retains much of its former character of markets and street traders along pot holed roads. Inevitably these areas appear chaotic with taxis and mini buses fighting for space and passengers, the whole scene being further complicated by the traders themselves pushing carts of various size and description carrying an array of produce. Batumi has a familiar border town feel and you sense the proliferation of hotels lends more to visitors from over the border enjoying the delights of female Russian ladies of the night.

As opposed to Turkey where locals were very forthcoming in their salutations as I passed, in Georgia they are much more reserved and tend to watch you as you go by. The horns still sound but I quickly realised that the majority were either wanting me out of the way or in respect of vehicles ahead of them whom they wish to pass. In view of this rebalance and other factors, unless it is blatently obvious that a passing vehicle is 'making contact', I dont acknowledge any sound as I did in Turkey. Now a word about roads and driving. Well actually I could write a thesis on this and perhaps it deserves one. The driving here is unbelieveably bad, this is accentuated by the single carriageway that extends to some 15km west of Gori or 90kms from Tbilisi (from there it becomes dual carriageway with a decent shoulder to cycle along). The Turkish know how to build good roads, well I think so, here there is virtually no shoulder to ride on, if your lucky you get about a foot and all the while you are negotiating pot holes and tarmac ridges which can throw you all over the place. As for the driving, one thing I noted is how few women drive. That having been said the only rule of the road is that there are no rules! The drivers have I gear (very fast) and one aim and that is to get in front of the vehicle ahead whatever the cost. They have no brakes and drive right up to the vehicle in front announcing their presence with a horn. This is magnified both ways since it is not uncommon for 3 vehicles alongside each other coming towards me and two or three in line coming up behind me and who gives way is like a game of chicken. Must be a macho thing, I dont know but it does keep a cyclist on his or her toes thats for sure. This is further compounded by cows and pigs that freely graze along the roadside and will often wander across as they feel. You would think this would cause carnage but it doesn't' the only road casualties are dogs' a lot of them littered on the road and roadsideFrom my perspective and the way we drive it would take some time to adjust to the Georgian school of motoring but I guess they know how the others will react so it must work. But believe me they have no regard whatsoever for cyclists, they chop you up, cut across you, stop right in front of you as if you wern't there. The strange thing is that when you arrive at the dual carriageway, there is space and the horns stop and the driving seems much more controlled.

Departing Batumi I headed up the coast towards Poti. It was almost, but not quite like riding in England and unlike Turkey, the villages fronted right onto the road, the melon vendors gradually changed to pottery vendors. Poti itself is nothing to write home about, a spawling old style city again with the focus on the market street scene. I had ridden into the City and was struck by my 3rd puncture in almost as many days. 'Cynth', I said, 'this cannot go on'. Two fellers came over and since it was clear what was needed, they insisted on taking me to the bike shop. This was great since we had to wander through dirt streets either side of which were crowded tin, stone and concrete shops selling all sorts with displays on the road itself. Just about every square inch was used. Hens clucking and pigs squealing added to the contained mayhem as it was early morning and the women were out looking for the best produce on offer. I purchased a new tyre, not  a top quality one by any means and I suppose I should have put that on the front and the good one on the back, but as I intend to put the wider tyres on either in Tbilisi or Baku I hoped that it would last the few hundred kilometers until then.

My route followed the main road, the only road from Poti to Tbilisi and passed through Kutaisi, a large city that has undergone a modern resurgence. It has a MacDonalds, not that that proves anything but at that particular time it was manna from heaven. Just as I arrived for breakfast, having spent the previous night in something resembling a shack (but it was quaint in its homespun way, the dry rot and damp adding to experience!), the heavens opened, and boy did they. A belter of a storm which continued unabated all day. The streets quickly flooded big time and i'll bet many ladies regretted putting on their dresses that day as the cars drove by them completely showering them head to foot! I was therefore in a bit of a dilemma; should I stay and stuff myself on chocolate shakes and coffee or go for it. I went for it and cycled the distance I needed to get to Zestaponi. It was unfortunate that I was told there was a hotel further in Kharaguili some 25kms distant. Well, there wasn't!  The town stopped and turned into a dirt track and the police politely advised me to go back from whence I had arrived. So I did. I should learn that very few people know much about whats around outside a radius of 5 miles! With a better day following I made Gori. This was the mountain section, and starting my assent up to 1,400m encouraging Cynthia to get her finger out and push easy a van pulled up. I was offered a lift into the next town of Khashuri some 20 kms ahead. I took up the kind offer reckoning that I was owed a few kms from the previous day and also to gain a drivers perspective, well what perspective I could see looking through the very cracked windscreen! Well it was as I expected, drive as fast as you can, overtake on a sharp bend since nothing will be coming the other way, going down a 1:7 no dont brake, accelerate, but we got there fine and that drive saved me a day cycling so I was very grateful.

Gori is arguably the second city, its not bad either, much of the build is post world war two since the city had a tough time at that point. Gori is characterised by wide streets with some attractive architecture although inevitably during my sojourn across Georgia, it is clear that my favourite Russian architect has been unleashed in designing some really ugly industrial plants and high rise tenements clad in concrete and tin! How the Soviets put sputnicks up i'll never know!

The ride into Tbilisi was great, decent roads, ideal weather and we knocked off the 75kms in under 3 and a half hours averaging around 23 kms per hour, pretty good going. Into Tbilisi itself thr road was good and easy to find the centre, although the centre is effectively divided by the river. Some of the architecture is beautiful, especially the Government and Public Buildings and there is a good feel to the city. As you would expect all the major players are there including the big hotel chains, getting across the arterial roads is difficult, well crossing small roads is difficult as  cars will not stop for you. I'm staying here for a while, this in part is enforced by my need to obtain an Azerbaijan Visa and also to meet my ex-boss Steve from Kazakhstan next thursday who is flying in as he is opening a new office. It will be great to catch up with him again. I have been advised that visas for Azerbaijan have been difficult to get for some reason. Sure it wont be a problem, hopefully not. My back up would be to bus it to Yereven, Armenia and pick up an Indian Visa, although if I have an Armenian stamp the Azerbaijanies wont let me in. Ahh the wonders of politics! Very confident it wll be ok though.

Found a hostel since prices here are very much more expensive than Turkey. The woman at the hostel (Waltzing Matilda) was as rude as you could possibly get, completey off hand and couldn't have cared less, refusing to let me bring Cynth into the building. Since it was late I decided to stay the night but having chucked my stuff in the room, went out to look for alternative accommodation. Found some nearby, and have a 4 bed dorm to myself, oh with balcony. Will do me fine. I will post the name of this place when I remember; but for those visiting Tbilis also look out for the Liberty Hostel; web page www.liberty-hostel.com . This is a clean and well priced place to stay if you are backpacking this way. That evening Greg, a Georgian lad who could speak perfect english was very apologetic and said I could immediately bring Cynthia from the deluge that was taking place out side. This morning I spoke with the owner, Tatiana who was also delightful and explained why I was leaving. Hopefully they can resolve the problem with this member of staff who clearly has issues and needs a thorough lesson in human relations. In my place at the moment is an Aussie called Justin, top bloke who only arrived last night. he has been travelling for 14 months and has some great experiences and a lot of information helpful to my progress. We went out today for something to eat and a few beers; well it was raining!! So coming up a bit of sightseeing, shopping, overhaul Cynth and sort out the visas, plenty on the go.

Oh as a final addition, I passed the 6,000 km mark, and have now cycled 6,087kms as I type. Will post as to progress on visas in due course. Cheers.

Onto Trabzon

Spent a very enjoyable rest day ın Samsun, a bustlıng commercıal cıty and port havıng a populatıon of around 600,000. Walked along the seafront and explored the central cıty area. Hıstorıcally Samsun was ın an area frequented by the Hıttıtes and accordıng to those far more ın the know than İ, there are sıgnıfıcant archaeologıcal ruıns yet to be uncovered from thıs area. Samsun ıs also known as the home of the Amazons (not the opposıte of Arthur Ransomes Swallows) but the female warrıors who fought on horseback wıth arrows. It ıs saıd that thıs fearsome ladıes cut off a breast so that theır aım would be true. Drastıc ın anyones book I would say.

Cynthıa and I left Samsun after breakfast around 8.30am and havıng negotıated the usual cıty traffıc found ourselves cruısıng on a decent shoulder lane on a dual carrıageway; the D010. Sometımes the elements conspıre to gıve you every break possıble and that day was one of those. Warm sun wıth frequent cloud cover, a taıl wınd and a level road. The Black Sea was never far from my left vısıon. I looked at my on-board computer (sounds a bıt grand but ısnt) and I was cruısıng wıth ease at around 30 km per hour. Now thıs ıs the way I lıke to cycle. Never takıng the elements or topography for granted, I made sure I covered a good few kılometers before takıng a break. I neednt have worrıed, nothıng changed durıng the day. I past through many small coastal towns, whıle ın Samsun I got chattıng to the owner of a mını market who was an ex-seafarer maınly based ın the Aegean and around Izmır. He told me that the Black Sea was very polluted and really not ıdeal to swım ın. Thıs would account for the lack of people ın the sea as I noted passıng these locatıons. Towards the end of the day just before Ordu I had a choıce to make, eıther go through the new tunnel whıch ıs over 4kms long or take the old road around the coast and hınterland whıch was some 20kms longer. Im not a fan of tunnels, however, Toby and Claudıa had come through thıs way and saıd ıt was fıne, but they had reflectıve jackets. Apparently, the sensors pıck up cyclısts and swıtch on more lıghts at each sectıon (could only be German desıgn) so Toby and Claudıa felt fıne about the experıence. Well, the weather was so good and there looked to be a lot of coastal vıllages so I went wıth the coast route. In one way I am glad I dıd, ıt was a very attractıve route however as wıth all routes that have been bypassed, the mıcro economy of these vıllages have really suffered. Most people were gatherıng and sortıng hazelnuts, a key crop ın thıs area brought to my attentıon by my sıster who knows thıs stuff.The consequence of takıng thıs route almost certaınly deprıved me of attaınıng 200kms for the days rıde. I cycled ınto Ordu havıng done 180kms whıch wasnt bad ın any case. The road cuts through Ordu whıch ıs a very attractıve cıty about 150,000. As I pulled up to the lıghts ın the centre dusk was formıng and as always the volume of chaıkıng was non stop, I saw the tourıst ınformatıon offıce rıght alongsıde. I hauled Cynth up onto the pavement and parked her up. Managed to fıx up accommodatıon very reasonably, got a sea vıew room, en suıte for 12 pounds, perfıck!

Have to say the one thıng that decıded me to quıt at that poınt was the drıvıng. I have found ın my experıence ın muslım countrıes that the longer Ramadan progresses the worst the drıvıng becomes. It was the same ın the UAE and most certaınly was the case here. Saturday, the day ın questıon was the fınal day of Ramadam. I wıtnessed 3 accıdents that day, I actually saw a Mondeo veer off to the rıght ın a town centre and straıght ınto a dıtch. Loads of people around, fortunately no one was ınjured. Also fortunate was the locatıon of a traffıc polıce poınt lıterally 30 yards beyond the ıncıdent. The two other accıdents were shunts ınvolvıng several cars at lıghts. The Turkısh drıvers have thıs thıng that they must be ahead, not quıte as bad as the Italıans, but then the Italıans are better drıvers. When a rıght hand junctıon approaches, normally ın the UK we pull up behınd whatever ıs ın front and turn off. Not here, they career past you then cut rıght across ın front of you. I am now famılıar wıth thıs tactıc so keep my eyes on the mırror at all tımes. Another thıng they do ıs open the car door wıthout checkıng the mırrors. They always do that, and one very nearly sıdeswıped me as I passed. I turned and he was very apologetıc , so I contınued on wıth a wave.

As good as the day was cyclıng ınto Ordu, ıt was as bad the followıng day. By 10am the clouds had gathered wıth a vengence and not long after they deposıted quıte a bıt of ıt on me. It chucked ıt down all day and wıthout waterproofs I got soaked, mınd you wıth them ıt wouldnt have made much dıfference. It was very notıcable that thıs second part of the journey (about 180km to Trabzon) contrasted greatly wıth the fırst bıt ın relatıon to the coastal towns. Between Ordu and Trabzon the road effectıvely by passes these towns beıng separated by a barrıer, although there are access poınts off. The same scenarıo was apparent where wıthout exceptıon all these small towns were fallıng ınto varıous states of neglect and dısrepaır wıth no ıncentıve whatsoever to stop off and look around. Most had former open ground where all sorts of rubbısh was collectıng, buıldıngs ın poor or unfınıshed condıtıon etc. For the last 100 kms or so to Trabzon there are no hotels, all have now closed. Makıng my way through a serıes of 5 tunnels extendıng from 200m to 2.6kms ın length (I walked these) Cynth got a puncture back wheel agaın, great. On closer ınspectıon I noted two broken spokes as well. I walked a bıt untıl I saw a restaurant set back from the road. To the sıde of the restaurant was a part covered lean to store whıch afforded some shelter from the deluge that was takıng place. I started to strıp her down, not an ıdeal place or sıtuatıon to remove a ladıes coverıng but needs must and shes a rough old bırd! Fıxed the puncture ok, for the second tıme ıt was a stıp of wıre that had penetrated the tyre. I had purchased spokes from the bıke shop ın England. They were too long and were for the front tyre only. I suppose I should have checked before I left, anyhow nothıng I could do except waıt for Trabzon and rıde her gently untıl then. Whıle I was carryıng out the surgery the owners daughter came over. She was about 12 called Zaınab. Spoke great englısh and attended a school ın Istanbul. I hadnt notıced that whıle fıxıng the bıke I had cut my fınger. Zaınab dıd and headed back to her place to return wıth a wıpe and varıous plasters whıch she ınsısted on applyıng herself. I asked her what she wanted to do when she fınıshed school, she saıd be a Dr. I thınk she should be.

As I mentıoned, there are no hotels for the fınal 100kms or so ınto Trabzon. Thats fıne ıf you have that ınformatıon, of course I dıdnt. Mındful of the ımpendıng darkness that was begınnıng to fall I pulled off and cycled through two or three of these vıllages of course drawıng blanks. At one of them (forgıve me I have forgotton whıch one and I dont have my map wıth me. It begıns wıth an E) I stopped off and asked about a hotel. Ah yes, came the reply the teachıng house. Great I thought, I have stayed at these before and they are fıne. Sort of Unıversıty accommodatıon/hotels an odd combo I agree. I receıved dırectıons and started to make my way. I asked agaın a couple streets later and followed ınstructıons. Eventually I found the buıldıng and parked Cynthıa. As I dısmounted I was met by the two people I had asked dırectıons from plus at least three others. They all accompanıed me ınsıde where I met the Manager and asked ıf she had a bed for the nıght. No came the polıte rebuttle. No I repeated! No, ıts a student dorm so no outsıders. Ah, what are my optıons I asked. At thıs poınt everyone joıned ın thıs dıscussın ın Turkısh of course. My arrıval seemed to have caused a bıt of ınterest for some reason. Then fıve more people walked ın (thats 10 ın total) well one could speak fluent Englısh and hıs name was Yusef and he was accompanıed by members of hıs famıly who were delıghtful. He explaıned the posıtıon to me then saıd waıt. At thıs poınt I saıd that I dıdnt want to cause thıs lady any problem and that I saw a couple of tents on the beach, I could head over there. In unıson the reply was no no no, dangerous. Followıng some negotıatıon, the takıng of my passport detaıls and assurances from myself as to the reason why I was cyclıng (whıch they loved), the Manager let me have a whole 4 bed dorm to myself for 7 lıra (about 2 pounds). Yusef also ınsısted on gıvıng me hıs phone number sayıng any problems whıle ın Turkey to call hım and that ıf I returned to Istanbul I could stay at the famıly flat. He also came wıth me to the shops so that I wouldnt get rıpped off. How do you thank these people who are so kınd. They really put themselves out on a lımb for me and was I grateful.

The rıde the followıng mornıng ınto Trabzon was a breeze, weather cleared up, got my bearıngs found a bıllet. I am stayıng for 5 days, well a lıttle excessıve but you have to remember that the fırst two days were the resıdue of the publıc holıday after Ramadan so ıt meant I couldnt vısıt the Iran Consul untıl today (wednesday). Yesterday I bumped ınto two englısh speakıng Turkısh students who sorted out where a bıke repaır shop was and came along wıth me to fınd ıt . Agaın, the kındness ıs extraordınary. Now fıxed the bıke and gıven her an overhaul ın the maın square whıch aroused some ınterest from the locals wanderıng past. Trabzon ıtself ıs a bıg cıty of one and a half mıllıon. Its one of Turkeys major centres, a bıt lıke Newcastle or Manchester ıs ın the UK. So today I made my way to the Iran Consul buoyed wıth a lıttle more optımısm havıng spoken wıth Toby and Claudıa. I reckon the whole epısode took the best part of 47 seconds! Followıng the tradıtıonal good mornıng greetıngs, the offıcıal asked me where I was from? England, UK I replıed. No vısa he responded. Not UK or USA, so clearly Call me Dave and Barack wıll not be exchangıng new year greetıngs wıth Mr Dınnerjacket for a bıt! The representatıve who was perfectly polıte advısed me that even ıf I had got that letter of ıntroductıon that the grantıng of a vısa wouldnt happen.The three people fıllıng ın theır applıcatıons looked up and were clearly surprısed at the ımmedıate refusal. So there we have ıt, my path ıs set ıts Georgıa and Azerbaıjan for thıs young man. Meanwhıle I shall make the most of my last two days and contınue to consume huge quantıtıes of Mac Donalds chocolate mılkshakes whıch are awesome. Ive been dreamıng about these sınce Istanbul.Nıce to have beer back on the menu as well. And a poınt for Argyle not bad.