The very next day after I went ziplining, it was time to leave Thailand. At the airport in Chiang Mai, I had time for one last green chicken curry, and it was a cracker! I followed up with a pretty damn good pork larb in Bangkok airport. Right at that point I was feeling quite satisfied about everything. Another great motorcycling adventure, another big fat slice of life. Bewdy! It wasn't destined to last. I got a premonition of the torture I was about to endure when I got to the departure lounge. Right on cue the obligatory baby was already screaming its head off. Terrific. People who take unsedated babies on international plane flights should be given long custodial sentences, and be forced to watch Parliamentary question time under bright lights. The nicest thing I can say about international flights is that they are a pain in the arse. And lots of other places. Unless you are a dwarf or a multiple amputee. On the flight from Bangkok to Sydney, I was in a seat which had a metal box of some sort (part of the aircraft) under the seat in front of me. This effectively halved the already miniscule amount of legroom I had in the first place. Why the hell don't they tell you that when you select and prebook your seat off the floorplan, a privelege for which Qantas charges you extra. How about a bit of a warning: Unless your name is Happy, or Sneezy, or Douglas Bader, don't pick this one, you won't fit! The end result was that I got not one wink of sleep on the all-night flight, and every so often my legs would cramp up. Next time, if there is one, I will be paying extra for a more comfortable seat. I fear there will never be any respite at all from screaming babies, only my advancing deafness will save me from that particular misery. Anyway, I was so stuffed that when I got home at about midday, I immediately stretched out on the bed and went to sleep for about 4 hours. After which I got up, took a shower, grabbed a beer, cooked some tea, watched the news on TV, decided I hadn't missed anything by being away, then went straight back to bed and did not surface again until noon the following day. I should have felt refreshed and reinvigorated, but not a bit of it. I felt like twopence worth of cat-crap.
As it turns out, I had a pre-arranged doctors appointment that afternoon. For the previous week or so, I had had an itchy rash on the back of my neck, which by now had become infected and an impressive crop of boils had started to spread to my shoulders. The doc took one look and said I needed antibiotics by the shovelful and a regime of skin treatment. I was actually relieved to hear it because by that stage I had convinced myself it was leprosy. I believe this was a result of sweating profusely for about three weeks. Wearing heavy motorcycle clothing in a hot tropical climate is asking for trouble, and as I was also wearing a Camelback which interfered with what ventilation there was at the back, this was the result. It has happened before, but never this bad. Anyhow, it started to clear up almost immediately once I started treatment. Then it became apparent that I had also caught a cold. Airports and planes are incubators of pestilence. You are a captive, forced into close proximity with the unclean, and contagion is rife, if not inevitable. Lucky I got out with only a cold. Only? Last night I put a doona on the bed, switched on the electric blanket and wore a tracksuit to bed, and I was still shivering like I was in an igloo. I could not have cared less if the house was on fire, at least it might warm me up. On top of that, I have a cough that frightens small children and stray dogs. So it has not been the best of homecomings for me after this trip. The good news though is that once again I was fortunate to survive 3 weeks of eating local and my digestive system is still intact, unlike all my travelling companions who all experienced some degree of Delhi belly. I contend that this has a little to do with being selective, and a lot to do with being just plain lucky. Even though we were nowhere near India, I'm sure the germs are related.
So how do I rate this trip? It was my fourth visit to Thailand and my first to Laos. Thailand keeps getting better and better. Laos, well, I've ticked that particular box, and let's leave it at that. About the only things in its favour are that its cheap, and the beer is good. I almost feel guilty saying this. I mean the people were friendly enough, the hotels were adequate, and we got to see a big slice of the country. Big Bike Tours had put together an itinerary which gave us a pretty good cross section of the culture. With the benefit of hindsight though, I think we all felt a little rushed, and its a tough country to travel in. Not that anybody was whinging about it, we all tried to make the best of it. But the roads were poor, the facilities basic, it was hot and uncomfortable, even when it was raining and the scenery was compromised by all the smoke. When we did get to our destination, it was crash out, recuperate, then back onto the bikes again in the morning. I would not be tempted to describe it as relaxing, and towards the end of the tour I think all of us were feeling the accumulated weariness, particularly those of us who had not been well. And that includes Kay. As it transpired later, he had actually broken a bone in his foot when he ran off the road and hit a concrete guide post, and I think he was lucky it wasn't a lot worse. The fact that we were all simultaneously overjoyed to get back into Thailand is a telling factor, although I must confess that my joy was largely overshadowed by the fact that I managed to leave my prescription sunnies at the Laos border.Ouch! I know its only money. (that's really the part that annoys me.)
OK, a few miscellaneous photos follow.
The group reach the Asian version of the Arc de Triomphe in central Vientiane, the Capital of this former French colony. All of Kay's tours stop here for this obligatory photo. This kind of anarchic western ratbag behavior is frowned upon by the police, mainly because we had to ride over a kerb and some steps to get the bikes in here (and out again). That's why Kay carries the flags. You can hardly be arrested for waving the national flag. The guy still thinks like a communist!
Yeah, its pretty big!
These roadworks in Laos provided a bit of entertainment, although they were never likely to impede our progress for too long. The blue truck was bogged, the excavator crawled up spectacularly from way down in the gully to free it, then dumped fresh fill over the wheel ruts. A little tricky, but over we went.
Limestone karsts near Vang Vieng, mostly obscured by smoke.
In Laos, the locals enjoy the opportunity of seeing exotic machinery. This guy owned a cafe, and an old beaten up chook chaser. But a biker is a biker!
First stop in Laos, a few hundred meters from the border post, where we bought insurance. Kay reckons its usually shut! The lady was nice enough though.
Rural Laos. Spectacular, picturesque even, but pretty basic.
Kay and Yai love waving flags, especially near officials at border posts. The officials shied away from the cameras though.
Arrival in Luang Prabang, and our hotel right on the Mekong. Paul looks happy enough for a guy about to get food poisoning!
Alison, me and Kay, visibly elated to be back in Thailand. Also a rare photo of me drinking water.
As it turns out, I had a pre-arranged doctors appointment that afternoon. For the previous week or so, I had had an itchy rash on the back of my neck, which by now had become infected and an impressive crop of boils had started to spread to my shoulders. The doc took one look and said I needed antibiotics by the shovelful and a regime of skin treatment. I was actually relieved to hear it because by that stage I had convinced myself it was leprosy. I believe this was a result of sweating profusely for about three weeks. Wearing heavy motorcycle clothing in a hot tropical climate is asking for trouble, and as I was also wearing a Camelback which interfered with what ventilation there was at the back, this was the result. It has happened before, but never this bad. Anyhow, it started to clear up almost immediately once I started treatment. Then it became apparent that I had also caught a cold. Airports and planes are incubators of pestilence. You are a captive, forced into close proximity with the unclean, and contagion is rife, if not inevitable. Lucky I got out with only a cold. Only? Last night I put a doona on the bed, switched on the electric blanket and wore a tracksuit to bed, and I was still shivering like I was in an igloo. I could not have cared less if the house was on fire, at least it might warm me up. On top of that, I have a cough that frightens small children and stray dogs. So it has not been the best of homecomings for me after this trip. The good news though is that once again I was fortunate to survive 3 weeks of eating local and my digestive system is still intact, unlike all my travelling companions who all experienced some degree of Delhi belly. I contend that this has a little to do with being selective, and a lot to do with being just plain lucky. Even though we were nowhere near India, I'm sure the germs are related.
So how do I rate this trip? It was my fourth visit to Thailand and my first to Laos. Thailand keeps getting better and better. Laos, well, I've ticked that particular box, and let's leave it at that. About the only things in its favour are that its cheap, and the beer is good. I almost feel guilty saying this. I mean the people were friendly enough, the hotels were adequate, and we got to see a big slice of the country. Big Bike Tours had put together an itinerary which gave us a pretty good cross section of the culture. With the benefit of hindsight though, I think we all felt a little rushed, and its a tough country to travel in. Not that anybody was whinging about it, we all tried to make the best of it. But the roads were poor, the facilities basic, it was hot and uncomfortable, even when it was raining and the scenery was compromised by all the smoke. When we did get to our destination, it was crash out, recuperate, then back onto the bikes again in the morning. I would not be tempted to describe it as relaxing, and towards the end of the tour I think all of us were feeling the accumulated weariness, particularly those of us who had not been well. And that includes Kay. As it transpired later, he had actually broken a bone in his foot when he ran off the road and hit a concrete guide post, and I think he was lucky it wasn't a lot worse. The fact that we were all simultaneously overjoyed to get back into Thailand is a telling factor, although I must confess that my joy was largely overshadowed by the fact that I managed to leave my prescription sunnies at the Laos border.Ouch! I know its only money. (that's really the part that annoys me.)
OK, a few miscellaneous photos follow.
The group reach the Asian version of the Arc de Triomphe in central Vientiane, the Capital of this former French colony. All of Kay's tours stop here for this obligatory photo. This kind of anarchic western ratbag behavior is frowned upon by the police, mainly because we had to ride over a kerb and some steps to get the bikes in here (and out again). That's why Kay carries the flags. You can hardly be arrested for waving the national flag. The guy still thinks like a communist!
Yeah, its pretty big!
These roadworks in Laos provided a bit of entertainment, although they were never likely to impede our progress for too long. The blue truck was bogged, the excavator crawled up spectacularly from way down in the gully to free it, then dumped fresh fill over the wheel ruts. A little tricky, but over we went.
Limestone karsts near Vang Vieng, mostly obscured by smoke.
In Laos, the locals enjoy the opportunity of seeing exotic machinery. This guy owned a cafe, and an old beaten up chook chaser. But a biker is a biker!
First stop in Laos, a few hundred meters from the border post, where we bought insurance. Kay reckons its usually shut! The lady was nice enough though.
Rural Laos. Spectacular, picturesque even, but pretty basic.
Kay and Yai love waving flags, especially near officials at border posts. The officials shied away from the cameras though.
Arrival in Luang Prabang, and our hotel right on the Mekong. Paul looks happy enough for a guy about to get food poisoning!
Alison, me and Kay, visibly elated to be back in Thailand. Also a rare photo of me drinking water.
