mountain biking – three pairs of pants

1 January 201626 January 2018

Day 109 (Fri 1 Jan): Yangshuo (mountain biking)

You notice them pointing their smartphone your way > you smile for the camera (and give the two-finger victory sign if you’re feeling particularly Chinese) > they see they’ve got a great picture and their faces light up > they then realise this means you know they were sneakily trying to take a picture of you and look sheepish.Today was the worst day so far for photos (or best day, if it’s your thing, I guess). I’m kinda getting used to it. It started as soon as we arrived on the tourist-laden bridge on our mountain bikes – I smiled, but he didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, just took the picture. But he then held a hand up in thanks and walked off.

Off into the beautiful karst landscape:

… along the (surprise, surprise) highly engineered roads:

A group of students kept slowing down and overtaking us. Eventually we worked out they were trying to take our picture. Rudy decided it was because of my stunning beauty (he might be Belgian, but he does a very good line in sarcasm) and took to riding in front of me, holding up his hand, palm forward, shouting “no photos, no photos” to the bemused Chinese cyclists coming the other way. And acting as policeman to move on the traffic when they slowed down to take photos of me out of their windows.

Very few people here speak English, and most who do speak very little. Even after you’ve made it clear you’ve no idea what they’re saying, they continue to try to have a conversation with you in Chinese. So we’ve started reciprocating – babbling along in English assuming that they know what we’re talking about. It leads to rather amusing “conversations”, like the one with the woman selling flowery, head garlands:

Rudy, totally straight-faced, explained to her that he wouldn’t need to buy one “because I’ve got quite a few at home already.” If and when they finally work out we don’t speak Chinese, they often then hold out their palm and use the other index finger to draw Chinese symbols on it. No, we can’t read Chinese either! But they’re all really good-natured and we always end with a smile:)

Tourist vandalism is (hopefully “was”) clearly a problem here with signs all over the place asking people to not pick the flowers, trample on the beds, etc. Pretty sure they’re not aimed at the western tourists – and I remembered my guide at the Grand Palace in Bangkok (the one who’d learnt his English from Harry Potter) getting quite upset when he explained that the Chinese tourists always wanted to touch things, which was damaging the structures.

Only saw one other mountain bike (ridden by a westerner), but some interesting cycle variations:

And river transport:

Market stalls all selling exactly the same thing:

And nutter drivers. Bus drivers are the worst with buses overtaking overtaking cars. As Mum would say: “It’s all going to end in tears.”

But it’s good to be out in the countryside again:

Here’s wishing you and yours a very happy new year 🙂

12 December 201526 January 2018

Day 89 (Sat 12 Dec): Luang Namtha (mountain biking)

Started the day with a giggle at the expense of the young lad serving breakfast who probably didn’t really understand the less-innocent meaning of the slogan on his jacket:

I’m pretty sure I’m not the first westerner to debate whether to tell him and conclude that I don’t want to prevent future westerners having a little laugh 😉

Then it was off on our mountain bikes to gently explore the town:

Riding through villages, dirt tracks didn’t feel so intrusive perhaps because the houses didn’t open out on to the street:

Real villages, real people and real houses:

Coming back into town, I realised how small the tourist area was – just a few hundred metres on the main street. So after lunch at a cafe with an impressive bottle collection:

… we went off-piste (again) and were rewarded with this:

One man was cleaning his car:

Some girls their bikes:

Others were washing clothes:

And themselves:

We’d stumbled across communal bathtime. Yet it was much more than that – it was play time, family time and relaxation time. Whilst it’s great to have private facilities, I realised that we lose as much as we gain. Nobody was shy or embarrassed, which was nice because they had no need to be. An honour to see a different culture at its most real.

Then onward to the next village and this impressive construction complete with walkways between the houses:

On the street (notice the haircut going on in the background – I was minded to queue up coz I could do with a trim):

And back across the bamboo bridge, such an impressive construction (which, if it’s like the others I’ve seen, gets taken down and rebuilt every year as it can’t survive the rainy season):

Then I fell off my mountain bike. Into the ditch on the edge of the road. I seem to be making a habit of falling off bikes, but I’d worn my long trousers explaining to Rudy that, as I hadn’t come off a mountain bike yet, it was very likely to happen today. He was almost impressed at my clairvoyant capabilities when I did then fall (not intentionally, of course -I like being right but won’t deliberatley hurt myself in order to be so). My thumb swelled up (must have landed on something), but I was otherwise unhurt.

Then sunset:

And back to base camp for our last Laotian dinner. Looking forward to China, but Laos has been good to me – so many highlights – that it’s kinda sad to leave. Whereas I felt I’d “done” Cambodia and Vietnam, I’d definitely return to Laos. But that’s for another time. Tomorrow, I’m China bound.

30 November 201526 January 2018

Day 77 (Mon 30 Nov): Nong Khiaw (mountain biking)

Twenty minutes into the “gear” presentation and things were getting repetitive. Despite telling the guy I’d used them before (!), he was obviously enjoying explaining how they worked. But finally we were off:

Down the river…

…to a village…

… where we watched people unloading a narrow boat. Seeing them lug heavy bags of oranges up the bank reminded me once again how “manual” their life is:

More butterflies:

After lunch we visited Patok cave:

… accompanied by several children who were clearly angling for money in return for showing us the clearly marked path. I knew this because they kept repeating “Hello, money”. They might want to work on their sales strategy.

Met Eleanor on the bridge for sunset:

And then rewarded our active day biking with a banana split:

Another really good day 🙂

Today’s random stuff consists of two rather fine bugs:

Another Laotian bridge:

And a photo to capture the memory of their open-to-the-street shops:

31 October 201519 June 2022

Day 47 (Sat 31 Oct): Hoi An (mountain biking)

Mountain biking through the countryside of central Vietnam. No visits to rice paper makers. No stops at farms, bars, cafes, arts centres. Just me and Pascal biking. We took the ferry across to a smaller island:

… and made a 45km circuit through villages, woodland and across rivers. Oh yes, across rivers. On robust constructions such as this:

And the concrete bridge (“It looks OK, but only walk on these two lines – the rest could give way anytime.”) And sometimes we just rode straight through the middle.

I didn’t take many photos, but these give a flavour:

Shouts of “hello!” met us everywhere we went. It actually got kinda wearing towards the end! Everyone, young and old wanted to greet us. It was obviously a lucky day for weddings (dates aren’t chosen arbitrarily, or for logistical reasons, in these parts: the relevant authorities are consulted well in advance and they advise when the luckiest date is. I told you they believe in luck. And superstition). We saw four. Going past one, I was being very British and trying not to look too intrusively… and was met with cries of “Hello! Hello!” They’re friendly folk, especially in the countryside where they don’t see many tourists.

Wildlife was abundant:

water buffalo
geese
a snake (that I almost ran over because it bolted when we came close)
herons
lots and lots of dogs (all in very good condition, APU)
a ma-hoosive butterfly (about the size of a starling – just gutted that they never alight so I can’t get a decent photo)
and, the piece de resistance, a magnificent kingfisher (it parked right in front of us, startlingly blue; just beautiful)

And then, in the midst of the beautiful countryside we hit a bank. At the top was this:

They can’t extend the existing highway. So they’re building another. And this is a communist country so none of this protesting, and the like. If they say it’s going to be built, you can’t do anything about it. The good of the country comes before the individual. I question who’s deciding what’s “good for the country”, though…

Going was slow in places (ever tried cycling on sand – one step forward, two steps back?), but so glad I did it. Great to be out on the bike, just for the pleasure of it. And there’s another difference. At one point, a lorry passed us and, as he neared, the driver made a sign with his hands and shook his head. “He’s telling us the road doesn’t go anywhere,” explained Pascal (a Frenchman who met his wife-to-be travelling in 1994, married and lived in France for 13 years until fire devastated his business; “if I was going to have to re-build anyway, I decided I’d rather do it in Vietnam”). Apparently, the concept of going for a cycle bike is alien to them:

cycles are used by poor people, those who can’t afford a motorbike
bikes are a mode of transport used for work only, so why go when you can lie in a hammock (remember their way of life is much more physical than ours)
outdoors is to be avoided – it’s hot (which makes the skin brown, and here white is idealised)

Another first-world brain moment.

I arrived back in Hoi An tired, happy and hungry. Oh, and saddlesore. Glad I’ve a day for my bruised sitbones and lady bits to recover before I get on that motorbike.