Thoughts on the roads

As I was riding between Thabok and Pak Kading in Laos I was thinking about all the roads and routes I’ve taken and I realised I’ve not said much about them or what keeps me interested on the way. .

People everywhere ask if I listen to music as I ride and are amazed that I do not.  One cyclist told me that he does not like being alone with his thoughts so he always listens to music.

The very next question is: “So what do you do when you spend 6 to 10 hours out on the road?”  “Good question”, I thought, “what do I do?”   Here are some random recollections, in no particular order.  I hope it gives you some insight to the hours and days spent cycling along all sorts of roads.

From a safety perspective I like to hear the sounds of the traffic coming up behind me.  Quite often there is a pothole or some obstacle in the road and I have to make a decision whether to go round it to the roadside or to the verge side or just cycle over it.  Mostly it is better to go into the road to pass the obstacle but it can be dangerous as the driver of a speeding  vehicle will not be expecting a quick swerve into his path.  If I can hear approaching traffic then I can make a safe decision, if  not then a quick glance over my shoulder will suffice.

But that’s not the prime reason.  As I cycle along it is delightful to listen to the birds, the crickets, the frogs and occasionally, the monkeys, calling away in the forest.  Close to villages it is the sound of cow bells, cows mooing, goats bleating and roosters crowing. I try to answer bird calls – I have no idea what bird it is but in Malaysia and Thailand you hear a loud call all the time, it sounds like “surreal, surreal”  which I happily yell back every time I hear it.  In central Thailand, just for 2 days, I heard a call which sounded exactly like “chew it…quickly, quickly”   I loved answering that one.

In all countries but especially in Laos the children love to greet and wave as I pass.  All the time I’ll hear cries of “Sabaidee”or “Hello” or “Good-bye” or “Good Morning” and I’ll respond accordingly to laughs and giggles from the kids.  Some brave souls rush up and put their hands out to receive the traditional hand-pat as I pass by.

After the rain the earthworms crawl on the road.  In Laos they are up to 20 cm long so I amuse myself playing dodge the earthworm.  You would be surprised at how fast an earthworm can move when it is threatened by a big truck passing.  In Myanmar and Laos I play dodge the potholes all the time but that’s not quite so amusing!

Sometimes I meet other cyclists on the road.  You’ve seen the picture of Steve and Tim. Recently I heard someone calling me from across the road.  I stopped and this little bundle of energy came bounding across the road to greet me.   It was a young Vietnamese woman cycling solo around SE Asia.  She had already cycled through Vietnam, Thailand, Myanmar and Cambodia.  We met in Laos as she was travelling North.  A delightful lady, she was so pleased to meet a fellow cyclist.  Her energy and enthusiasm kept me going for the rest of the day.

Châu Bảo and Me

In Myanmar the drivers behave differently and it took me a while to figure out why.  They tend to pull completely into the overtaking lane to check for on-coming traffic and then make a decision whether to overtake or not.   Often the decision is “What the hell – I’m in this lane already so I might as well go for it”.  It causes scary moments for a solo-cyclist.  The reason for the erratic behaviour slowly dawned on me.  They drive on the right hand side of the road, but the cars, buses and trucks are all right-hand drive.  There is no way the driver can see if it is safe to overtake unless he pulls out completely into the left-hand lane.  The country switched from driving on the left to driving on the right on 6th Dec 1970 at the whim of General Ne Win who was in charge of the military government at the time.  It took them until 2016 to ban the import of right-hand drive vehicles so I think the problem will persist for a while.

Also, the Myanmar government in its infinite wisdom, introduced speed bumps in the downhill lane of steep mountain passes.  The idea seems good – slow down the traffic especially trucks and buses and reduce accidents.  But in reality, they all drive down the mountain in the up-lane, only dodging back as far as they need to avoid oncoming traffic.  Now as a cyclist riding very slowly and a bit wobbly up a steep mountain pass, this does occupy the mind.  From the front there is a huge truck barreling down the mountain on the wrong side of the road and from the sounds behind there is a bus gearing down for the uphill climb.  Somewhere in between this impending disaster is little old me.  (Just as an aside, in Myanmar, brakes are not really an option, it’s accepted practice to hoot so others get out of your way.)  I heard hooting from the front and hooting from the rear and decided that discretion is the better part of valour so I bailed off the bike and spreadeagled myself and the bike hard against the crash barrier to give them as much room as I could.  I shouldn’t have worried though, they passed each other comfortably at the last moment as the truck edged back into his own lane temporarily.  I did not see a single accident in Myanmar so maybe I’m just paranoid!

I talk and sing a lot. All of the words of the songs are made up on the spot according to what is happening at the time to tunes I know and love.  “I’m gonna give you….. 40 k’s… to get to Thabok”.  I cycled days in the rain in Laos so the songs were  “Rainfdrops are falling on my head….lada de da dum dum…but my transport is free..so there’s nothing worrying me” and  “I’m singing in the rain, what a grotty old feeling, I’m soggy again”.

I love talking to road-kill or potential road-kill, chatting to scuttling creatures or birds, buffalo, chickens, dogs and goats or even to Bobbie the bike, passes the time well.  I read road signs out loud and have long discussions with myself about a stop for coffee or how far I can go before the next rest.

I take bets on when I’ll find a roadside vendor that sells pineapple – my favourite roadside snack!  I compose incredibly beautiful prose for my blog.   It is rich and evocative, ironic with a light touch of humour, truly delightful to read, which I promptly forget when it comes to actually writing several days later.  I comment on the beauty of the rivers or mountains, the jungles and the rice paddies.

With the rainy season in full force, the rivers are flowing strongly.  I  have crossed several tributaries of the Mekong, many of them are large rivers in their own right.

Namkading River – a tributary of the Mekong

Observing and considering what is happening around me is so interesting.  The rains have swollen the rivers and the plains are flooded and there is water as far as the eye can see.  This year the volume of water is unprecedented.   There are hundreds of square kilometres of rice paddies completely underwater.  Locals tell me that this is a disaster and many families will not be able to harvest the current crop.

I hold discussions with myself about types and methods of farming and the impact of destroying jungle for rubber or palm-oil plantations.  I discuss the quality of bus-stops and compare them by country for comfort if I need to rest or to shelter in one.  (Thailand still tops that list).

Then there are times for introspection.  I remember the people I have met on the way and the roles they played in my journey, how our relationship (albeit very short) played out.   I have flash-backs from my past (especially the embarrassing times it seems!) and I wonder what triggered that memory at this particular time.  In these moments the guidance from Vipassana meditation comes to the fore.  Detach from the emotion of the memory, review it dispassionately, learn any lessons from it and let it go.  I visualise the flashback memory being launched in a small boat that I send away down the Mekong.  I believe that a journey and adventure like this, especially an experience that shifts you out of your comfort zone, should be a platform for personal growth as well as having fun.

On the road I’m never bored, I’m like a little boy again and everything is interesting and exciting.