BACK INTO THE MOUNTAINS

After being woken at 6.30 am by a city-wide public announcement over the radio - turns out there was a speaker on a pole about 3 metres from my head - then going down the street to a cafe for which I had a breakfast voucher, I studied the menu. Hmmmm. Thai food is all very well and good, but I can't really face it at breakfast. Cereal, toast and coffee looked out of the question, so I walked over to the portable kitchen currently situated just out the front in the street, found a stack of egg cartons, pointed and raised two fingers. Roger that, with a smile, from the lady doing the cooking, after making sure I didn't want any of the other stuff on the menu. Er, no thanks, that won't be happening! Two very oily fried eggs later, that was it. I was fed, for the time being anyway.

Our hotel in Chiang Kan

 Ditto

 My breakfast on the stove!

 More timber buildings in Chiang Kan

 Ditto

Ditto.

 Me, Alison, Deb, Paul and Kay.



So, on the road again, for a day of mixed riding. Some motorway, some nice twisties, a lot of roadworks, and a lot of climbing back up into the mountains heading for Khao Kho. We had stayed here last year, in a hotel owned by the former local police chief, who happens to be a bike nut. He has an extensive display of bikes of all sorts, although he has cleared a lot of them out over the last year. We were also to hook up with the group going to Pattaya, who had left Chiang Mai at the same time as we did. They had done the same big circle up through the Mae Hong Son loop, and the golden triangle as I did last year. So it was party time, not before Noah found the keys to the bike showroom and started a few up, then took the Can Am Spyder for a run up and down the road at the front of the hotel. The man is a true hoon. We got stuck right into it with a bbq tea on the deck overlooking quite a picturesque valley flanked by mountains. There was a sizeable film crew staying at the hotel also, and they were  shooting footage for a TV show. The front man, a very well known Thai comedian, was there too. All the Thai guys were really impressed, and took lots of photos. Kay grabbed a few shots for the Big Bike Tours facebook page as well. I figured this was sort of like us running into Billy Connolly, and he did like to party. He was walking around with a jug of local rum on the rocks, offering a glassfull to anybody who was game enough. (Hell yeah, I sure did, twice, or was it three times?) It reminded me of my days as a barman at the Largs Pier Hotel, enough said. Anyway, the party got into full swing when Noah and Yai found the switch to the karaoke system. The end result of all this was that next morning there was one hell of a mess, and a lot of sore heads.

 Getting my money's worth on the scintillating ride from Vientiane to Chiang Kan. (yes, it's mine!)

 Yai and Noah with the karaoke machine at Khao Kho. Somebody pull the plug!

 Party time. Both tours meet at Khao Kho. This many bikes in one place would probably be illegal in Queensland, under current laws.

 The Thai TV star, standing at the back, his producer at left, and the annoying wunderkind sidekick with the beatle haircut.

The next morning was overcast, and our group were heading right into the blackest clouds around, not an encouraging sign. Our first stop was at a mind boggling temple which we had visited last year, while part of it was still under construction. It's still not finished yet, but has advanced significantly. Alison hadn't seen it before, and was suitably gobsmacked. It has that effect.

 The staggeringly incredible temple near Khao Kho

 Ditto.

Ditto.

 A little closer,

 and even closer, check out the detail!

 The huge multiple white statues of Buddha dominate the valley, and can be seen for miles.

Moving right along, Kay decided to take us onto a back road over a mountain range in the Phu Hin Rong Kla National Park. This was a tight, twisty, narrow road with very steep switchback turns which would have been demanding enough in the dry. Today, the road was wet, and the rain had washed mud onto the surface, making it particularly greasy. The plan was to give it a few kilometers and see how it looked. We pushed on, even when we hit cloud or fog, thinking we would break out of it soon enough. It just got thicker, and pretty soon we were committed to continuing rather than backtracking. We had to ride very close together to maintain contact. The mist got so thick that I lost sight of Kay's bike out in the lead. Then I lost sight of Paul's bike, and pretty soon it was all I could do to see Alison in front of me. I went up in first gear, slipping the clutch most of the way and making decisions based on what I could see within about 5 meters. My hazard lights were flashing in case anyone (probably Yai!) shunted me from behind, but this was of little comfort. This was pretty nerve wracking riding, I have to say. We finally found somewhere to stop just past a toll booth for the National Park, where there was a painted median in the middle of the road. A group discussion of our options followed. Our main concern was what it would be like going downhill after we crested the summit. It was pretty cold (cold? in Thailand??) and in the interest of safety, Deb got in the truck, where it was nice and warm and dry, but probably only marginally safer. I have struck riding conditions like these only once before, in Brazil in 2011, and it didn't cheer me up.

But as luck would have it, shortly after we restarted, we actually began to descend, and the fog or cloud started to thin out, until finally we were out of its clutches. The demanding road was still steep, wet and slippery, and still covered with big leaves, twigs, and clumps of pine needles, and it took some time till we were able to stop somewhere and get a coffee. We were all fairly knackered from this effort. It had been very technical riding on a very difficult road, requiring intense concentration of the highest order, and we all regarded it as quite an achievement.

 Foggy Mountain Breakdown. Well, tactical pause at least. Visibility 5-10 metres, degree of difficulty huge.

 Deb looking a bit worried, and cold! Kay doesn't look too happy either, and you can't even see Alison!

A stop for lunch at a small restaurant just as it started to rain, then a sprint along a motorway got us to Uttaradit, a largish town about a day's ride south east of Chiang Mai, as the rain began again. Crazy weather indeed. Is this global warming in action?

HOME TO THAILAND

Today started badly, but ended brilliantly. First the bad news. I slept in, realised what time it was and freaked. I scoffed a bowl of cereal for breakfast, no time for a coffee even, and generally kept everybody waiting while I threw everything into my bag and sprinted to the bike. A quick dash through the suburbs and we were at the border. Vientiane sits very close to the border, which at this point is the Mekong once more. This time it was relatively easy, We cleared the Lao side, had a wander around the duty free shop, where the Aussie wine trade was well represented. I did kiss a bottle of Wynns Coonawarra Cab Shiraz, which is cheaper at home, but bought nothing. Even a litre of Jack was about the same as at Dan Murphys at home. Changed a large wad of relatively useless Lao kip into Thai baht, then went through the Thai side no problems and out onto the bridge over the Mekong. Then halfway across, it occurred to me that I was no longer wearing my prescription sunglasses. When we were able to stop, a quick search of all my pockets confirmed that I had just made a $500 mistake. Jeeesus! I had been five minutes behind everyone else since I woke up. I am by nature a creature of habit, and I like going at my own pace, not everybody else's, so now I was doubly pissed off.

However, after an industrial strength caffiene infusion at the first coffee shop we saw, I calmed down. It actually felt good to be back in Thailand, like a homecoming of sorts. At least I knew how the place works and what to expect. The roads improved instantaneously, and we were back to riding on the left, not that riding on the other side was much of a problem anyway. I would perhaps have liked a bit more time in Laos, and in Vientiane in particular, just so I could get a better impression of the culture. I wouldn't say I actually disliked the place, but I see no real need to ever revisit. I have Myanmar (Burma) on the radar, and I may need to reconsider that now. So we now headed west towards today's destination of Chiang Khan. Being a Sunday, there was not much traffic around, and we were on a very nice road which followed the course of the Mekong. In fact, it was a beauty, and the pace inevitably quickened as we settled into a good groove.

Pretty soon we stopped at a nice riverside restaurant for lunch. Out it came, a sensational Thai spread, and the red curry was memorable. Yeah baby, I'm back! While lunching, the Thai round of the Superbikes was live on the big screen TV. Does it get any better? Yes it does. After lunch, we hit the road again, and really got moving. The Versys was in its element, fast twisties that kept the bike in the midrange gears and revving it right out (8, 9, 10,000 rpm, yippeee) then downshifting, tipping it in and firing back out of the corners. Left, right, left, right. Heaven on a stick! You just can't ride like that in the Adelaide Hills and have a valid license, its gotta be one or the other.

Soon we were at Chiang Kan, a delightful small town on the Mekong, where the buildings are mostly made of wood. We have a boutique style hotel right on the main street, such as it is, and being Sunday there was a street market right out front. Hardly a falang to be seen anywhere. This place is a special treat.

 Lao border guards at the crossing from Vientiane back to Thailand

Cars, cars and more cars at the border.

Standing in queues is what its all about at border crossings. And paperwork.

Alison, Deb and Paul.

Loved the coat this punter was wearing.

And we're still in the queue, or maybe it was a different one.

 Time to refuel. Service with a smile, that's Thailand!

 Lunchtime with a view of the Mekong.

Its a knockout!

 Me and my bike both covered in crap, outside our hotel in Chiang Kan.

Ditto Alison, and she did it all on road tyres, a top effort indeed. Respect.

And I hate to labour the point, but Yai and Kay organised a special dinner. We had the restaurant to ourselves and were hosted by a local family. Grandma supervised the kitchen, but didn't start cooking until we arrived, because she wanted it to be fresh. The result was fantastic, an explosion of flavours,  and even better than lunch. I reckon it was probably the best tom yum (soup) and larb (minced pork with Thai herbs) I've ever had. So, all in all, a strange day that just kept getting better.

MEET YAI

Its long overdue, but its time I introduced everyone to our support vehicle driver Yai. If the Thai movie star we met the other day was Thailand's Ewan McGregor, Yai could well be their Charley Boorman, although he may have to fight Noah for the title. Yai is a local, of course, but he is also certifiably crazy. His opening routine is that he asks you to rap your knuckles on his head, as if you were knocking on a door. Why? Because due to a motorcycle accident, he has a metal plate in there, held in place by 18 screws! It sounds like hitting a water tank. Clang !! He also has a gruesome scar on his foot, due to a different motorcycle accident, where he had a chunk of bone removed then a skin graft which required a 3 month stay in hospital. Has this slowed him down? Hell no.


The girls love him, and rightly so, he is a really affable, gentle but funny guy. But he drives like a total maniac. We might have been really carving it up on the bikes, and I think that'll put some distance between us, but when we get to a rest stop, a minute or two later, he rocks up in the truck. Its impossible, I just don't know how the hell he does it, but it just keeps on happening. You just can't shake the guy! God help anyone who gets in his way, and I'm really glad he's behind us, not heading towards us. But this is Thailand. Lots of people drive like Yai anyway.

 Yai in the pickup truck.

 Yai and Kay sorting out what happens next.

ON TO VIENTIANE

Gotta say I wasn't sorry to be leaving Vang Vieng, the place didn't really float my boat at all. Coulda, shoulda, woulda......but...it just didn't. However, my joy at leaving was short lived. It was raining. Oh shit! Paul picked a bad day to crawl back onto the bike. There was a thunderstorm in the morning, which Kay reckons is very unusual in the tropics, and that's what I thought too. Bloody great bolts of lightning all morning, quite unnerving all on their own, let alone what was happening to the roads. In the dry, the roads were pretty bad in many places, but manageable. In the wet, they would be a different proposition altogether, as we had surmised earlier. For a start, most of the bitumen was already polished or had bled to a slick, shiny surface finish which would be treacherously slippery in the wet. The numerous potholes all filled with water, so you could no longer tell which were the deep ones. I bottomed the front suspension several times in the first few kilometers. Then the traffic pumped muddy water out of the potholes, bringing with it a red mud which coated everything else. The mounds of red dirt protruding where some potholes had been previously over-filled were fairly benign in the dry, but were like ice in the wet. I saw Kay hit one with his front wheel and slither off sideways, then Alison hit one and it kicked the back of her bike out to the side. Some sections of unsealed pavement were made entirely of this red gloop, and it was very difficult to keep the bikes from slithering all over the place. I recalled a similar situation in Brazil, where one of our group went down hard and he and the bike slid into a drainage ditch, and I had to supress a rising panic more than once. It rained all morning, and I have to say it was a stern test, for me anyway. Did I get any photos? No, that was the least of my worries. Where is a film crew when you need one?

When the rain finally stopped, we had a reasonably good run for quite a while, which gave us a chance to get dry. Alison had a Go Pro running on this section, so we may yet get some footage, but by no means the worst of it. After a stop for lunch, we headed into Vientiane, the Laotian capital. Here it did not appear to have rained at all, but the last 30 km was through continuous roadworks and clouds of dust, corrugations and/or loose sandy stuff. Quite a day!

On the way into the city, we passed the National Convention Centre, which was a massive new building, guarded by a truckload of black clad soldiers or police (I couldn't tell which) armed with the ever popular AK47's. In the centre of town, there is a huge Asian version of the Arc de Triomphe. Kay always gets the group to park their bikes in front of it for a photo op, even though it means riding on the footpath and down a few steps to get to the right spot. This is frowned upon, apparently, so we had to be quick, and just in case, he had a Lao flag and an old Soviet style one to proudly display in the photo. Lots of the other tourists took photos of us taking photos of ourselves, but no cops turned up, and we made our escape. When we regrouped in the official car park, I noticed a hive of activity. There were dozens of scooters parked with digital printers attached to their luggage racks, powered by their batteries. Some entrepreneurial communists were making a quick buck taking snaps for the tourists and printing out high quality enlargements on the spot. I guess that's not frowned upon, or maybe the cops get a percentage?

We won't be here long, we leave tomorrow and head back into Thailand, hopefully for better roads and a better diet. So Vientiane remains somewhat of a mystery, as does Laos itself. In the short time it has taken to walk down the street for dinner, I have seen a few glitzy shops, and quite a few flash cars, including a nice pale blue Ferrari. Communism is working for whoever owns a Ferrari, but most people seem to have a pretty crappy existence. Generally speaking, Vientiane gives the impression of being unremarkable, possibly even a bit of a dump. As for Laos itself, Thailand's poor cousin, perhaps?

VANG VIENG

Next morning, after eating at a "cook your own" bbq type restaurant the previous night, Paul was as crook as a dog. Paul (I'll eat anything, man this wasabi is f***ing great!) must have ingested something he shouldn't have and was in a bad way. He started the ride from Luang Prabang, but at the first gas stop had to bail out. There was no doubt it was serious. So he, Deb and his bike all went on the truck. While we were sorting all this out, two other motorcyclists pulled in, one on a Triumph Explorer, the other on an R1200GSA, tricked up to the nines (ie fully farkled) and in the exact same colour as the one I have just ordered. A vision of the future! Naturally I went over to chat, and grabbed a photo or two. Both these guys were from Thailand, and were heading in much the same direction as us, so they were invited to join us. Yai, our Thai support vehicle driver, got quite excited. The guy on the GSA was apparently a big movie star in Thailand. I guess a Thai version of Ewan McGregor! Anyway, they stayed with us for about 20 minutes, then got impatient and ripped past us and disappeared into the smoke haze. I'm going to like my new bike!

Pushing further along and up into the mountains towards our next destination of Vang Vieng, the road was reasonably good. We stopped at a junction in a small village, where there was a big crowd gathered on the corner, getting ready for some kind of celebration. The women were all preparing food and wrapping it up in banana leaves, the guys were sitting down talking and smoking. Everyone was looking at us and wondering at the strangely dressed falangs on noisy motorcycles. To them, we may as well have come from another planet. Anyway the ice was broken and we were offered a taste of the food by a couple of old ladies who had about three teeth between them, and everybody thought the whole thing was a real hoot. Turns out, it was a new shop being built on the corner, and the whole village had turned out to celebrate the new business venture, and to wish the owner good luck. We were the first customers and bought some drinks. Great stuff! Its a pity we have evolved so far from such community spirit. Maybe when I get home I should introduce myself to the boofheads who live across the street from me. Second thought, no, stuff them, the noisy bastards.

On we pushed, high up into the mountains, on some seriously twisty roads, with massive penalties for getting it wrong. If you went over the edge, you'd fall for an hour before you hit anything. The villages were getting poorer looking, its a tough life in these parts. We stopped for lunch in a small restaurant in some nameless village, where the fare of the day was Chinese. This joint catered to the Chinese tourist trade, and was full of same. Chinese music blared out, and there were pictures of Mao and a Chinese flag. Just like home, some holiday! The customers sat yabbering away, punctuated by smoking, coughing up a lung or two, and spitting the results on the floor. When they left, there was a pile of bones on each table, not on a plate, on the table. Nice! The food was pretty average too, I reckon I could get better anywhere in Adelaide.

When we finally reached our destination, the entire hotel was Beijing central. Hordes of them were traipsing through the foyer of the hotel, wringing wet from some paddling on the river, and dripping water all over the tiled floor, making it into a skating rink. The much vaunted infinity-edge pool was a bright green colour and consequently out of action. The much vaunted view of massive karsts (dome shaped mountains) was barely discernible through the smoke. I had a shower and went to sleep for a couple of hours. It had been a tough day, and I was overheated and cranky. Later on, as I was about to get out of the lift on the ground floor, as soon as the doors opened there were about 10 Chinese who tried to barge in, oblivious to the fact that I might like to actually get out of the bloody thing first. Who says the Aussie Rules hip and shoulder bump is a thing of the past. I've still got it in my repertoire, thanks to years of watching Murray Wiedeman, Ron Barassi and Neil Kerley steamrolling opponents in the 60's. A bit of cross cultural interchange took place, which might cause a few of them to think again before they stampede blindly into another lift. Breakfast the next morning was a total free for all, but lucky for me I only wanted cereal, toast and coffee, and none of the 200 other people in the room did. There were ugly scenes at the noodle stand though, and it was just mayhem at the soup station. These people don't give a stuff about anybody else, and as far as I'm concerned they are nothing more than peasants who found some money. A lot of money. Our money. Get used to it, the future is on the way. Time for some photos.

 The Thai movie star on his R1200GS Adventure (just like mine, soon) talking with our driver Yai.

 His mate on the Triumph 1200 Explorer

 Locals in a small mountain village, celebrating the opening of a new shop. Its a work in progress.

But everybody is happy about it, and why not? Good luck to them!

 Another mountain temple

 Some nice fast twisties up in the mountains.

 Close to the edge. Mind the drop.

 That's a karst, lots of them in this part of the world.

Typical mountain village

LUANG PRABANG

The group has gone out to look at a waterfall this afternoon. After seeing Iguacu Falls in Brazil, I have no need to ever see another waterfall, I'll only be disappointed! So I went for a wander in the vicinity of our hotel, the Mekong Sunset View Hotel. Things are very quiet here in the afternoon because it's so hot and sticky. Lots of activity in the cooler parts of the day though, particularly at night. I guess we are in an area that could be described as touristy, its probably in the most desirable area overlooking the Mekong. Up close though, there is a lot of trash lining the riverbank. The Mekong itself is a giant sewer. After passing through China, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam I shudder to think what's in it. Its enough to put me off eating fish, I'll tell you that for nothing.

Many of the older houses here are built of timber, even some newer buildings have facades made from heavy timber slabs, and just about all buildings have heavy timber shutters on the windows. I have also noticed that a lot of furniture like tables and chairs are made from solid timber, very thick and heavy, probably teak, but almost certainly local rainforest timber. Its bloody uncomfortable, and you can take that to the bank! Our hotel has exquisite teak floors though, the boards being about 15 inches wide, and as solid as rock. I guess you use what you've got, but I hope its sustainable. There appears to still be a logging industry that employs elephants, certainly it is possible to visit elephants at work and play. I need to find out more about this.

Our hotel, my bike on the right no. 7788

 Typical architecture in the street facing the Mekong, where there are outdoor cafes and restaurants lining the river side, and French colonial style buildings on the other. Some of these are a bit faded, others have been beautifully restored. Enjoy!

 But you do have to watch where you walk. This thing was the size of a saucer.

A bit of France in the tropics.

 Don't get too comfortable in there, you're dinner. That'll teach you to wake me up at 4 am.

I don't know how old this stupa is, but its ancient.

 This is the biggest frangipani I've ever seen. It might be as old as the temple.

 Steps leading to the temple. I guess the lesson here is that it doesn't matter how big and ugly you are, there is always someone or something bigger and uglier. A thought worthy of contemplation.

 Laundry day, for this monk anyway.

 The best preserved temple I could find. The detail is exquisite.

 A more typical street scene.

Temples are everywhere, even in the side streets.


So there you have it. We head off tomorrow for Van Vieng, suitably rested, freshly laundered, blog updated and ready to rock and roll. See you next time.