We left our funny little £5 a night guest house while the mist was still hugging the road.  Although the bed was rock hard I found that if I put my camping mat on top, I was perfectly comfortable. We passed numerous school children walking to school with a few cycling and a privileged few on motorbikes. We knew we had a big climb ahead so were slightly concerned to have enough food.  We stopped at a shop and brought eggs and, rather than risk them breaking, we sat outside the shop, lit our stove and hardboiled them.  This caused great amusement but was by far the most practicable way to deal with things. 

By the time we had finished the hard boiling (David tried to insist on a full 10 minutes but we compromised at 8 on the basis the eggs would continue to cook in their shells), the sun had risen and some of the mist had burned off.   Within a few kms we started our first climb of the day which we knew from Kamoot was about 400m of climbing. We were feeling surprisingly good after yesterday’s long day and soon we were into the familiar territory of bottom gear and plodding slowly up, meters climbed being much more important than distance covered.  Most of the climb was 8/9% so tough but not excruciating.  We felt our fitness now coming to the fore and could keep going without too many rest stops.  The scenery was lovely and the road was quiet – a vehicle every 5 minutes or so at that time of the morning. On the lower part of the climb a lot of the hillsides were cleared for agriculture. They seemed impossibly steep to grow anything and were bare at this time of year, but no doubt spring into life when the rains come.  As we got higher, the jungle took over again and views back down the valley appeared.

The first summit was at about 960m, our highest point on the trip to date.  The road then took us along a beautiful ridge with views into the valley on both sides.  We needed to ‘refuel’ and found a perfect stop for ‘second breakfast’, looking out over the mountains as we brewed coffee and ate boiled eggs and biscuits. A man on a motorbike stopped, quizzed us in Lao about our journey and we confessed we could not understand.  However, “can I have a selfie with you” is a universal language and, of course, we obliged.

There were a few undulations then a longer downhill before the next 250m climb, which took us  up to over 1000m.  Although shorter and no steeper, the climb felt somewhat harder.  The tiredness in our legs began to tell, but we just went slower and took our time. This is much easier to do on the trikes compared to a bike there is a critical point of slowness on two wheels when you just fall off!  That is not a problem on 3 wheels!

There was a sizeable village at the top of the second climb, with wooden houses strung along the road.  This was the mountain top and there was a ‘scenic view point’, but (in our view) the outlook was less scenic than many of the views we had seen over the past couple of hours! It was nearly midday by now and we had only done 25km but had climbed over 800m.

Then we got our reward –  a glorious descent.  We were really getting to grips with handling the trikes, leaning hard into the bends so braking less (although brakes and breaks were still needed) and weaving round bend after bend. Great fun.

The road then followed a river and the valley opened out into an agricultural landscape with fields of vegetables and lettuces, no doubt irrigated by the river. This valley had a very different feel.  Much more prosperous, larger villages/small towns with houses of mainly concrete construction, more restaurants and shops, smarter cars and even some mobile phones in evidence. 

There was only 15km to go to our proposed stopping point for the day, the village of Vieng Phou Kha (or possibly spelt Vieng Phouka).  There is no consistency as to how Loatian names are spelt using European lettering, and huge differences between the anglacised names of the same place on different maps and on signs.  All adds to fun and confusion.  We had mainly chosen Vieng Phou Kha as an end point for the day because it had several guest houses and we figured we might be tired by then after all the steep climbing. We were not wrong!

We pressed on as we wanted to get to the village but that was a mistake.  The concept of “running on empty” is very well known to cyclists, and we should have rested and eaten.  The road was quite undulating; nothing large but our legs got more and more tired as yet another 50m climb presented itself.  How can 5% be so tough when we did 11% with some ease a few hours before?  Eventually we rolled into town and booked into the first guesthouse we saw – which happened to have large cool airy rooms, good showers and was still less than £10 a night.

We showered and finally went out to eat properly with a noodle soup that comes high up the rankings. When we were in Vietnam a few years ago we came to worship a good Pho – and this was from the same stable.  Loads of fresh herbs and it came with a huge bowl of crisp fresh lettuce, no doubt from the valley we passed through. Our limbs were exhausted though and we could finally rest back at the guest house and spent some time planning out the next couple of weeks.  We already seem to be running out of time!

In the evening we ventured out again to a chinese restaurant. There was no menu and even with google translate we had some difficulty but David ended up pointing at someone else’s dishes and we ended up with a simple but delicious meal of stir fried pork rice and vegetables.  

This place had a feel of China about it.  There was a family celebration going on, multiple dishes and beer was drunk, and there was a Chinese action movie on the large screen (which my sister Kate would not like as people seemed to be shot in every scene).  While we were there, several lorries arrived and parked up outside.  All the lorries we have seen have been Chinese (we are near the Chinese border here) so it seems this is a favorite stopping point.  The lorry drivers seemed to know each other so they probably ply this route regularly and on into Thailand.  We have tuned our ears into the sound of the Lao language and this was not Lao, so it must have been Chinese. 

Today was back on the trikes, a day involving 50% more climbing than any other day on the trip so far and our first significant “loss” – namely the top of Bernie’s flag which must have bounced off at some point on the bumpy Laos roads.  We retraced our steps for a few km after I discovered it was missing, but it must have come off some time earlier.  So someone in Laos has become the proud owner of a plastic flag pole with a Union Jack and an EU flag.  We will have to replace it when we get to the next major town, which will probably be Luang Nampha.

The day started with us failing to get going quickly, despite waking early.  I have no idea why some mornings we bounce out of bed and are on the road in no time and on other mornings we raise faffing around to an art form as we delay getting on our bikes. Today was a faffing morning but we were still on the road soon after 7.30am. 

Our route took us through the town and then along Highway 3, going North East into Laos.  There was development along the road for miles and miles, and it must have been 20km before we were really in the countryside. Planning rules would prevent this in the UK and Europe, but things might be different here.  

The road climbed into the countryside, as we knew because we had been driven along it 2 days previously to get to the start of the Gibbon Experience trek.  After 32km we reached a village that signified the start of the first major climb of the day – about 400m upwards.  It was marked as over 12% on our maps but actually was between 9% and 10% most of the way up and was not too bad.  The views at the top were hazy, as we looked over a mixture of jungle and parched farmed land.  The fields are only used intensively in the rainy season and look a bit sorry for themselves for the rest of the year.  

There is deep jungle to the North of the road and some agriculture to the south.  The jungle goes more or less all the way to the Chinese border, with most of it being a national park.  The battle between creating enough farmland to produce food for a growing population and maintaining the virgin forests is a perpetual battle.  We are not sure who is winning overall, but the intrusions into the forest do not appear significant in this area and tourism, which depends on the maintenance of the forests, is a big industry.

We swooped down from the top of the first climb and had an early lunch which we cooked up at the Gibbon Experience roadside shack – noodles, chopped tomatoes, boiled eggs and sticky rice.  We were warned that getting fresh food in Laos is difficult – with noodles and eggs being mainstays of the diet.  Our dinner might be remarkably similar.  

We were soon off and into new territory, with the road winding through verdant forests.  No one appears to have told the road engineers that it was OK to have a flat section – it seemed always to be going up or down and we were clocking up the climbing metres.  The road was quiet with only the very occasional Chinese registered lorry.  They gave us a wide berth, and often the co-driver was hanging out of the window with his mobile phone to video the strange vehicles that they were passing. 

We passed through small villages which mainly consisted of small shacks with rattan walls with the occasional concrete house. Here we generated vast numbers of smiles, waves, “very good”s and thumbs up.  In one slightly bigger village with a primary school we could hear voices ringing out ‘Falang, falang’ – the universal word for a white foreigner in most of SE Asia. Children sprinted along to get a good look at us. We must have seemed very odd to them (as indeed we appear very odd even in the UK!)

We did not see another long distance cyclist all day, despite this being the only road.  So we are intrepid or foolish – maybe both.  The scenery continued to be delightful all afternoon.

A few more significant climbs and then we reached the village of Baan Donchai where there was reputed to be a “guest house”.  We confidently expected to be the only guests and were not disappointed.  It was very basic and the room had the hardest bed that we have encountered – and there is quite a competition for that accolade. However the room was huge so we could park the bikes inside, there was electric light and even a shower with hot water……at least Bernie had hot water, it ran out half way through David’s shower.  One of life’s unfairnesses!

As soon as we arrived we were surrounded by small, grubby and happy children who, on discovering the astonishing fact that we could not speak Lao, started to tell us words!  They were fascinated by everything about us and everything we did, and had no concept of interpersonal space at all.  Hence Bernie had 3 children draped around her as she tried to catch up with messages from friends at home on her phone.  This was delightful and frustrating in equal measures but we certainly don’t need to go on a trek to see Loatian village life – it is here and up close and personal.  

Overall we were pretty pleased with our efforts today.  We climbed over 1200m, much of it steep (but not punishingly so like the other day) and started to experience rural Laos – basic and poor but not starving.  A good day even though we are both tired now and wonder how our 60+ year old bodies will react in the morning.

Today was back on the trikes, a day involving 50% more climbing than any other day on the trip so far and our first significant “loss” – namely the top of Bernie’s flag which must have bounced off at some point on the bumpy Laos roads.  We retraced our steps for a few km after I discovered it was missing, but it must have come off some time earlier.  So someone in Laos has become the proud owner of a plastic flag pole with a Union Jack and an EU flag.  We will have to replace it when we get to the next major town, which will probably be Luang Nampha.

The day started with us failing to get going quickly, despite waking early.  I have no idea why some mornings we bounce out of bed and are on the road in no time and on other mornings we raise faffing around to an art form as we delay getting on our bikes. Today was a faffing morning but we were still on the road soon after 7.30am. 

Our route took us through the town and then along Highway 3, going North East into Laos.  There was development along the road for miles and miles, and it must have been 20km before we were really in the countryside. Planning rules would prevent this in the UK and Europe, but things might be different here.  

The road climbed into the countryside, as we knew because we had been driven along it 2 days previously to get to the start of the Gibbon Experience trek.  After 32km we reached a village that signified the start of the first major climb of the day – about 400m upwards.  It was marked as over 12% on our maps but actually was between 9% and 10% most of the way up and was not too bad.  The views at the top were hazy, as we looked over a mixture of jungle and parched farmed land.  The fields are only used intensively in the rainy season and look a bit sorry for themselves for the rest of the year.  

There is deep jungle to the North of the road and some agriculture to the south.  The jungle goes more or less all the way to the Chinese border, with most of it being a national park.  The battle between creating enough farmland to produce food for a growing population and maintaining the virgin forests is a perpetual battle.  We are not sure who is winning overall, but the intrusions into the forest do not appear significant in this area and tourism, which depends on the maintenance of the forests, is a big industry.

We swooped down from the top of the first climb and had an early lunch which we cooked up at the Gibbon Experience roadside shack – noodles, chopped tomatoes, boiled eggs and sticky rice.  We were warned that getting fresh food in Laos is difficult – with noodles and eggs being mainstays of the diet.  Our dinner might be remarkably similar.  

We were soon off and into new territory, with the road winding through verdant forests.  No one appears to have told the road engineers that it was OK to have a flat section – it seemed always to be going up or down and we were clocking up the climbing metres.  The road was quiet with only the very occasional Chinese registered lorry.  They gave us a wide berth, and often the co-driver was hanging out of the window with his mobile phone to video the strange vehicles that they were passing. 

We passed through small villages which mainly consisted of small shacks with rattan walls with the occasional concrete house. Here we generated vast numbers of smiles, waves, “very good”s and thumbs up.  In one slightly bigger village with a primary school we could hear voices ringing out ‘Falang, falang’ – the universal word for a white foreigner in most of SE Asia. Children sprinted along to get a good look at us. We must have seemed very odd to them (as indeed we appear very odd even in the UK!)

We did not see another long distance cyclist all day, despite this being the only road.  So we are intrepid or foolish – maybe both.  The scenery continued to be delightful all afternoon.

A few more significant climbs and then we reached the village of Baan Donchai where there was reputed to be a “guest house”.  We confidently expected to be the only guests and were not disappointed.  It was very basic and the room had the hardest bed that we have encountered – and there is quite a competition for that accolade. However the room was huge so we could park the bikes inside, there was electric light and even a shower with hot water……at least Bernie had hot water, it ran out half way through David’s shower.  One of life’s unfairnesses!

As soon as we arrived we were surrounded by small, grubby and happy children who, on discovering the astonishing fact that we could not speak Lao, started to tell us words!  They were fascinated by everything about us and everything we did, and had no concept of interpersonal space at all.  Hence Bernie had 3 children draped around her as she tried to catch up with messages from friends at home on her phone.  This was delightful and frustrating in equal measures but we certainly don’t need to go on a trek to see Loatian village life – it is here and up close and personal.  

Overall we were pretty pleased with our efforts today.  We climbed over 1200m, much of it steep (but not punishingly so like the other day) and started to experience rural Laos – basic and poor but not starving.  A good day even though we are both tired now and wonder how our 60+ year old bodies will react in the morning.

Today was back on the trikes, a day involving 50% more climbing than any other day on the trip so far and our first significant “loss” – namely the top of Bernie’s flag which must have bounced off at some point on the bumpy Laos roads.  We retraced our steps for a few km after I discovered it was missing, but it must have come off some time earlier.  So someone in Laos has become the proud owner of a plastic flag pole with a Union Jack and an EU flag.  We will have to replace it when we get to the next major town, which will probably be Luang Nampha.

The day started with us failing to get going quickly, despite waking early.  I have no idea why some mornings we bounce out of bed and are on the road in no time and on other mornings we raise faffing around to an art form as we delay getting on our bikes. Today was a faffing morning but we were still on the road soon after 7.30am. 

Our route took us through the town and then along Highway 3, going North East into Laos.  There was development along the road for miles and miles, and it must have been 20km before we were really in the countryside. Planning rules would prevent this in the UK and Europe, but things might be different here.  

The road climbed into the countryside, as we knew because we had been driven along it 2 days previously to get to the start of the Gibbon Experience trek.  After 32km we reached a village that signified the start of the first major climb of the day – about 400m upwards.  It was marked as over 12% on our maps but actually was between 9% and 10% most of the way up and was not too bad.  The views at the top were hazy, as we looked over a mixture of jungle and parched farmed land.  The fields are only used intensively in the rainy season and look a bit sorry for themselves for the rest of the year.  

There is deep jungle to the North of the road and some agriculture to the south.  The jungle goes more or less all the way to the Chinese border, with most of it being a national park.  The battle between creating enough farmland to produce food for a growing population and maintaining the virgin forests is a perpetual battle.  We are not sure who is winning overall, but the intrusions into the forest do not appear significant in this area and tourism, which depends on the maintenance of the forests, is a big industry.

We swooped down from the top of the first climb and had an early lunch which we cooked up at the Gibbon Experience roadside shack – noodles, chopped tomatoes, boiled eggs and sticky rice.  We were warned that getting fresh food in Laos is difficult – with noodles and eggs being mainstays of the diet.  Our dinner might be remarkably similar.  

We were soon off and into new territory, with the road winding through verdant forests.  No one appears to have told the road engineers that it was OK to have a flat section – it seemed always to be going up or down and we were clocking up the climbing metres.  The road was quiet with only the very occasional Chinese registered lorry.  They gave us a wide berth, and often the co-driver was hanging out of the window with his mobile phone to video the strange vehicles that they were passing. 

We passed through small villages which mainly consisted of small shacks with rattan walls with the occasional concrete house. Here we generated vast numbers of smiles, waves, “very good”s and thumbs up.  In one slightly bigger village with a primary school we could hear voices ringing out ‘Falang, falang’ – the universal word for a white foreigner in most of SE Asia. Children sprinted along to get a good look at us. We must have seemed very odd to them (as indeed we appear very odd even in the UK!)

We did not see another long distance cyclist all day, despite this being the only road.  So we are intrepid or foolish – maybe both.  The scenery continued to be delightful all afternoon.

A few more significant climbs and then we reached the village of Baan Donchai where there was reputed to be a “guest house”.  We confidently expected to be the only guests and were not disappointed.  It was very basic and the room had the hardest bed that we have encountered – and there is quite a competition for that accolade. However the room was huge so we could park the bikes inside, there was electric light and even a shower with hot water……at least Bernie had hot water, it ran out half way through David’s shower.  One of life’s unfairnesses!

As soon as we arrived we were surrounded by small, grubby and happy children who, on discovering the astonishing fact that we could not speak Lao, started to tell us words!  They were fascinated by everything about us and everything we did, and had no concept of interpersonal space at all.  Hence Bernie had 3 children draped around her as she tried to catch up with messages from friends at home on her phone.  This was delightful and frustrating in equal measures but we certainly don’t need to go on a trek to see Loatian village life – it is here and up close and personal.  

Overall we were pretty pleased with our efforts today.  We climbed over 1200m, much of it steep (but not punishingly so like the other day) and started to experience rural Laos – basic and poor but not starving.  A good day even though we are both tired now and wonder how our 60+ year old bodies will react in the morning.

 Apologies in advance that this is a long read – there is so much to record after a brilliant couple of days.

We woke early, checked out and by 8am we had arrived at the Gibbon Experience office. The Gibbon Experience is described as the best experience in Laos and, as we (jointly) write this after our return from the jungle, it certainly ranks as one of the most amazing couple of days we have had. What is it?  All we really knew in advance was that it was an eco-tourism project that funded conservation of massive areas of jungle, preserving wild areas for gibbons and other animals, by providing jungle experiences for tourists.  We knew the “experience” involved some trekking, a lot of zip wires and staying in a very high tree house in the middle of the Nam Kan national park. As far as we could see this is ecotourism at its best. It is quite an expensive trip but the organisation employs 130 local people on good wages, including park rangers to protect the park, supports local schools in the national park and does a lot of conservation and biodiversity work.

So back to 8am and arriving at the office in the town of Huay Xai.  We saw the slightly scary “safety video” then piled into a small truck where we met the rest of our group – 2 French (one living in Berlin), 1 Italian (living in France), 3 Germans and a German of Lao/Vietnamese family heritage who was born in Germany and considers himself German (except when he is Laos when he is a bit more Lao). Lucky for us the common language was English. We had our first view of the Lao roads and villages that we would be exploring by bike in a few days time. It had a very different feel to Thailand, not least because there were very few private cars and only a handful of lorries.

After an hour and a half on the back of a truck we were dropped off at a roadside shack, and we met our guides.  We were then handed our zip wire harnesses, which would become a permanent fixture on our bodies until the end of the day. We had a lesson on the safe use of the zip wire with a short hop over the river. No one fell into the river off the zip wire and we were all slightly relieved that sitting in a harness going along a zipwire seemed a manageable skill.  Then it was about an hour and a half trek, mostly uphill into the jungle. The path was easy to follow as we tramped along in single file, gently chatting and getting to know each other.  

Then we reached the first proper zip wire. There was anxious laughter as we looked at the wire stretching 400m across the valley, way above the trees and hundreds of feet about the ground.  This was a completely different level to the zipwire over the stream, albeit the same technique.  The lead guide launched himself off as we all watched nervously then lined up for our turn. Our hearts were pounding as our turns came, everything on the harness was checked.  We had seen several people reaching the other side without plunging into the abyss so there was nothing for it but to let the harness take the weight and suddenly we found ourselves going along the wire at a terrifying speed, with astonishing views on each side as we sped above the trees.  Bernie’s eyes were fixed on the platform ahead without daring to look to the side, let along down then before she knew it she was safely on terra firma and then realised how tense her body had been!

David tried to lie back in the harness as instructed and looked around, only to find his whole body starting to go round in circles below the wire.  At this point he could not recall the instructions as to how to correct the twist and ended up facing backwards, and thus came to a premature stop about 15m from the end of the wire.  At that point he was able to pull himself hand over hand along the last 10m or so until he was ignominiously pulled in by one of the guides.  Later David got the hang of the technique and ended up being one of those who approached the landing zone too fast and had to brake.  The “brake” was a piece of bicycle tyre at the back of the rollers from which the harness (and safety line) were attached.  It was a simple, brilliant system.

There were a total of 9 of these zip wires that day and after the first couple we were able to relax, improve our technique and look in wonder at the forest canopy that we were flying over. The guides explained that each 30 or 40 second zip wire saved a 2 hour trek down into the valley and up the other side.  We were therefore able to get deeper and deeper into the jungle….and have great fun too.

Eventually at about 3.30pm we arrived at the last zipwire which took us directly into the treehouse – our residence for the night.  Each treehouse is made of wood from fallen trees and none of the parts are brought in by helicopter as this would disturb the animal life that they want to preserve.  It takes a full year to build a treehouse – which is on 3 levels.  It is basic, but water is pumped up from a nearby stream and there is the most spectacular toilet and shower (cold water) imaginable.

About 10 minutes up the path there is a small settlement with a cook house and accommodation for the staff who support the treehouses, do conservation work, maintain the ziplines and do routine patrols to dissuade poachers or people who want to burn forest to create more agricultural land (which seemed to be a problem in the past). 

We had a lovely afternoon and evening, looking out over the forest (very still – lots of bird calls, fewer birds but no gibbons). The views were simply awe inspiring as day turned to dusk and the sun sank into the hills. The food was delicious and the company was excellent – albeit we were probably 30 years older than anyone else in the group.  They did not seem to mind having a couple of (almost) pensioners as part of the group and Bernie’s medical skills were put to good use (paradoxically for the benefit of a German doctor – one of two other docs in the group).  It would be an exaggeration to say that we inspired them by our cycling exploits but they were slightly fascinated by the trikes, and also by the fact that people of our age (which probably means people more of their parents’ ages) still had the motivation and energy to travel by bike and experience new things.  One of them, Ed (the delightful German/Lao/Vietnamese – and the other doctor) had completed a 5 month cycle trip from home to the Middle East as the start of his year traveling.  He had never cycled before and hilariously described learning to mend a puncture from a Youtube video when, after 3000km, he finally got a flat.  Later he sat on David’s trike and declared himself an instant convert.

As elder stateman and stateswoman (or probably more as the only people prepared to admit to being occasional snorers) we were given the smaller upper floor to sleep on, on our own.  So we had the treehouse penthouse suite for the night – and both had an excellent night.

We were woken about 6.30 by the familiar ‘zip’ of the zip wire as one of the guides went off to the kitchen to get a huge kettle of hot water, also brought back over the zip wire, for early morning tea/coffee as it began to get lighter. The forest was astonishingly quiet all night and in the early morning – there was a bit of a dawn chorus but not the raucous forest noise we had seen on TV.  Perhaps we were too high in the canopy.

Then there was a trip out to see the kitchen area. It was amazing to see that the food produced was cooked on a couple of log fires.  We saw how ‘sticky rice’ is steamed in a rattan basket over a huge pot and there was a little herb garden.  Then on to a circuit of 4 zip wires as the sun came up over the mountains. This was just to help us gain an appetite for a veritable feast of a breakfast back at the tree house with a vast array of delicious Lao dishes – no doubt toned down in chilli content!

With full stomachs we had to bid goodbye to the magical tree house.  Then it was a combination of hiking mostly down hill and 7 zip wires to take us down into a valley where we finally stopped next to a river where we could swim in deliciously cool water. Yet more food for lunch – this time a simpler rice dish – before we piled back into the truck for the journey home.  This was the most terrifying part of the whole trip as we bounced along a very bumpy track for 45 minutes hanging on to the sides for dear life to prevent being thrown out of the back! At one point we saw a large snake slithering across the road.  At last onto smooth tarmac for the last hour back.  The end of an experience of a lifetime. 

We are sitting on a rooptop, looking over the Mekong and about 400m from where we stayed last night – but on the other side of the river.  The key difference is that the international boundary goes along the river bed and we are now in Laos – or to give it its full title “The People’s Democratic Republic of Laos”.  We met someone earlier today from the former People’s Democratic Republic of Germany who had his own views on the form of government here  – but that is another story which you will have to read to the end of the blog to discover – but here we are in the PDRL.  

It is to state the obvious to say that Thailand and Laos are different, but we cycled down pristine highways in Thailand, passing buildings in a good state of repair (there is money in running a customs business) and reached the border.  At this point we hit our first administrative hiccup of the day.  Thing is, the vehicles drive on the left in Thailand (so we are feeling comfortable with that) but on the right in Laos (like the rest of the world – so most people are comfortable with that).  Thus the “Friendship Bridge No 4” (not 100% sure where numbers 1 to 3 are but recall we crossed one about 100km south in 2019) has to have a peculiar road system so you start on the left and end on the right.  Bicycles are not allowed to cross the friendship bridge for “safety reasons” and bikes are stowed in buses instead.  That has the “wholly unexpected” benefit for the bus operators that they have a monopoly over foot passengers and charge everyone 130 baht for using the bus, plus an extra fee for carrying the bike in the bus.  

But the administrative rock hit the hard place of reality in our case – what to do with 3 wheeled bikes.  Did we have an engine?  No only our legs.  We did not disclose that we could dismantle the trikes and so they scratched their heads and decided (a) we were not a bicycle so we could cycle across the bridge but (b) we were enough of a bicycle that we still needed a bus ticket, and should follow the bus for “safety reasons”.  We resisted a smile and went along with this farce, and duly followed the bus along the 4km route.  It was fine except on the steep uphill parts of the bridge where we did our best to keep up with the bus and the driver could not believe he needed to go at 10kph!  Going down the other side we hit 40kph and almost collided with the rear of the bus.  

We then reached the Laos border and went through the complex process of getting visas – first we had to get our passports checked (unofficial additional fee of 20 baht – just handed over as who were we to take the point), then the formal border checkpoint (finger printed as usual) and finally $40 handed over for the visa.  All took less than an hour – which was astonishing in the circumstances.  

Riding away from the border post we instantly noted the differences – many more pot holes, far fewer modern buildings and a generally deplapided feel compared to Thailand – but happy, enthusiastic and loud people.  This is going to be an interesting time! We booked into the Gibbon Experience office, found a guest house, bought a sim card, got local currency (the kip – 20,000 to the £!) and generally relaxed.  One of the features of this trip is my ability to be satisfied with mooching as opposed to being driven to complete 80+km per day.  My “moochability” quotient has definitely increased with age, retirement and possibly self-reflection.  Friends will read this with astonishment but, despite everything, it feels as if David is winding down.

We ambled up to the wat – a lovely “ordinary” temple with lovely artwork.  The pictures tell the story.  Then we ambled down to the river and met Damien and Adrian, a lovely nurse/midwife couple (we assume) from France who have lived all over the world for the last few years (including in New Caledonia) and are now travelling whilst they work out what to do next.  They suggested we might like to come to the “Reading Elephant Laos” project to speak with children who were learing English.  We were delighted to do so and spent a stimulating hour with Jackson, aged 16, whose English was better than his confidence allowed.  This is a project that seeks to enhance children’s reading skills in both Lao and English.  We met the organisers and were impressed with the commitment to giving children better reading skills.  Our words – as natural English speakers – were particularly welcome and we probably did more to assist the pronunciaion of the teachers than assist Jackson.

Back to the guest house where we sat on the terrace and watched the sun go down over the Mekong and then out for a delightful evening meal with Damien and Adrian.  Laos feels like our sort of place.

Today we geared ourselves up for what we hope will be our last day in Thailand before crossing into Laos. We had our usual early start but Chiang Rei also seemed to be an early starter so there was some weaving through traffic until we cleared the city limits.  Luckily that did not take too long (memories of the half day it took to clear the Phoenix suburbs in the US last year).  

As soon as we were in open country the morning was glorious and we had a day of varying landscapes.  We were following the Kok river for the first part.  The river was irrigating huge swathes of paddy fields, glinting in the early morning sun. 

We then turned away from the river and took a road following a line of hills.  Little ups and downs and numerous ordinary everyday villages and towns. We try not to be too much of a tourist snob but one of the huge benefits of cycling is seeing these out of the way places where tour buses and trains don’t go.  We brought fruit from a local market in one town, causing a mild stir of amusement amongst the market stall holders – laughing at our means of transport we think.  After about 50km we stopped at a tiny coffee shop almost buried in a shrubbery where we had one of our best cups of coffee so far! 

The road then turned into the hills and the landscape changed again. It wound up hill in a slow climb through lush trees and vegetation.  There were still patches of cultivation in narrow patches by the side of the road – oranges, bananas, rubber trees, were the ones we could identify. Although we had built ourselves up for the climb it was an easy one and after an initial steepish bit down the other side on a rubbish road surface, it was an easy run down too.

We were then into a different type of landscape with much drier soil.  There was no irrigation here so it showed the effects of the dry season on the parched soil. We saw a large cassava factory at one point.  Cassava is not a staple food of Thailand but it has an important economic role.  Cassava can grow in dry, low nutrient soils and the roots can be stored in the ground for up to 24 months. The cassava is chopped up and spread out on the ground to dry out.  When it is ground up it is called Tapioca – rather gastly memories of school lunch puddings but it is used as a ‘native starch’ mainly as a thickening agent and stabiliser.

We were now into the hot afternoon (although overall the weather had been cooler today).  The landscape was dusty and rather tedious, and the cycling getting metronomic.  The route turned us off the ‘main road’ for a while and we stopped at a village shop for cold drinks and some donuts.  There was a gaggle of women chatting and no doubt we gave them plenty more to talk about.  None of course spoke English and our Thai remains derisory but the universal signs of waving and smiling go a long way.

At 100km we came rolling in to Chiang Khong, a trading town on the banks of the mightly Mekong river; and a few kms from the border crossing into Laos.  We know from experience that border crossings can be variable – from a few mintues to several hours so this was something to tackle tomorrow and not in the late afternoon.  We therefore booked into a pretty wooden guest house on the Thai side, strolled up and down the banks of the Mekong looking over at the town where we will stay tomorrow and had a lovely last meal Thai meal.  This place has all the feelings of frontier town, built on trade coming from the river and with merchants marking their success with wonderful wooden (teak) houses – many of which now have even more charm as they are slighty delapidated.  

It’s exactly 3 weeks since we arrived in Thailand and we are about 1300km into the trip. Our Thailand phase has been amazing as we have learnt the benefits and the quirks of the trikes – but overall we love our new way of seeing the world.  Laos will be similar but also very different; we are both looking forward to a new phase of the trip, starting tomorrow.

We woke after a deep sleep and had a leisurely breakfast at the guest house.  Then we were on our way, knowing it was only a couple of hours to the major city of Chiang Rei.  We were back on our old friend, the “1” road, but this time going South.  We were doing a little bit of a triangle because we wanted to see Chaing Rei and could not be in Laos until Friday because we were booked into the “Gibbon Experience” (maximum recommended age 50) on Saturday. The road to Chiang Rei was a dual carriageway with a hard shoulder, and was slightly downhill and slightly with the wind in our favour – so we averaged about 20kph.  We arrived at our guest house in Chiang Rei too early to check in, so we left our panniers and ambled the 4km across to the Mae Fah Luang cultural park.  Before doing so we had an extended conversation with a couple who are about 10 years older than us and come from the UK.  

They were travelling by car around the north of Thailand and described how they took 2 months here to get away from the UK in the winter, fuel prices and generally how they felt our country was going downhill.  We could agree – up to a point – but I hope we are mainly driven by positive reasons to be here rather than negative reasons for not wanting to be in the UK.  I accept that I have to keep my natural tendencies to be a curmudgeon in check (glorious as it can be to occupy that space) but others may not see the need for that discipline.

The Mae Fah Luang cultural park was one of the highlights of the trip so far.  It was only created between 1984 and 1990 and is a gift from the people of Chiang Reii to the Queen Mother,  Her Royal Highness Princess Srinagarindra to mark her 84th birthday in 1984.  The late Queen Mother (who died in 1995 at the age of 95) was the mother of King Bhumibol (who reigned until 2016 and was the world’s longest serving monarch until overtaken by HM Queen Elizabeth II of GB).  She must have been the grandmother to the present King.  The Royal family hold a special place in Thai culture and saying anything bad about them is a criminal offence – so I will not to do so.  

The cultural park was a place of solace and beauty.  32 ancient teak houses in the city had been dismantled to create a wonderful pavilion which displayed words of art from throughout the Lanna tribal region, which stretches across Northern Thailand and well into Myanmar.  The pavilion had openings to allow cool air to circulate and it was surrounded by lakes, all covered in water lillies.  The photos will not do justice to its sense of calm.

There were also beautiful grounds to wander around (almost deserted of visitors today) and a teak exhibition showing this versatile wood in everyday uses as well as for art and construction.  There was also a modern art exhibition which – as with all modern art – we find hit and miss but this was more hit (in an impressionist style) than miss.

After that we did some shopping, read, I got beaten at scrabble and we did numerous jobs before leaving the last major Thai city of this trip.  In contrast to the Mae Fah Luang cultural park, the city was teaming with tourists this evening – even though there is not a great deal to see here.  It is not Chiang Mai, but maybe some got confused between the two places and intended to come to Chiang Mai and ended up in the industrial city of Chiang Rei instead!  We had an indifferent meal (curmudgeon tendencies coming back) and went back to the guest house to prepare for a 100km day tomorrow.

Today was one of ‘those’ cycling days. Although only a little more climbing than yesterday, we went much further but more importantly the climb was steep – very steep – and we cycled 50km before the main climb started so only started it at midday (mad dogs and Englishmen etc…)  But I have jumped ahead, back to first thing this morning.

The main difference between camping in South East Asia and Europe is the amount of light we have.  Essentially we have 12 hour days here – it is dark at 6.30pm and does not start to get light until 6.30am.  We had therefore cooked and eaten before 6pm and were tucked up in our sleeping bags by 8.30pm. A bit of reading before our eyes droop then sleep. We are therefore awake early but can’t really get up until 6.15pm.  We dopily put on the first brew with head torches then hey presto it’s light and we can start packing up.

We were on the road about 7.30 – steam from the geysers lit up in the early morning sun.  The first 10km was a gradual slide back down the hill to Fang – a town that seems to extend on for about 15km.  The cycling app Kamoot had plotted a great route cross country for the first 40km. Through familiar rural countryside but with the looming hills getting closer and closer. We crossed the bridge over the Kok river and joined the main highway heading east over the hills. 

We met a charming young French couple who were cycling in the opposite direction, having come from Laos.  Useful intelligence but it is clear they are roughing it far more than suits us – but then they are 30 years younger! A few kms on we passed a great coffee shop that did good coffee and omelettes; to set us up for the climbing ahead. Another 10km of slightly uppy/downy road and the climb proper started. 

By now it was mid day and it was hot. Yesterday’s climb was shady but here was no shade. And then the steep sections started – and I mean STEEP! We had about 300m of climbing (1000ft in old money) where the gradient was frequently over 10% and often hitting short stretches up to 18%.  After that our Wahoos (our navigation devices – brilliant by the way) stopped counting and gave up saying 0% but we reckon at times it must have over 20% in places.  It was tough – pushing the pedals as hard as we could, one at a time, aiming for the next corner, stopping in every small patch of shade. There were few trucks and those that did the climb were not moving much faster than we were.  The scenery developed as we climbed – with hazy views of the mountains forward and back.  The ground was dry but there was some cultivation right the way up.

But we were doing it, our gearing is really good and we could just about keep pedaling without having to get off and push. We were sure that if we were on our touring bikes we would have got off and walked our heavily packed bikes up the ramps. Unlike a bike you can’t use your weight to push the pedals round but with a trike you push against the back of the seat, which seems more effective when it is mega steep.

We inched our way up at sail’s pace. About three quarters of the way up, when we were having a one of our frequent rests, we were passed by a British guy on a motorbike.  To say he was impressed is an under-statement.  He was more than impressed!! Well we felt pretty impressed with ourselves – and felt better when we put our heads under a hosepipe that was gushing water (sorry not photos of that as our minds were not quite working logically at that point). At last we made the top and swooped down hill….only to have another (admittedly shorter) climb to do.  We refueled ourselves with boiled egg and cheese sandwiches, telling ourselves that at least this one would not be so steep.  Wrong!  Another steep climb but only of about 100m or so of climbing and then we were into the descent proper.

This descent definitely makes it into our annals of ‘top cycling descents we have done’.  The road surface was good, the scenery fantastic and the road alternated between straight bits, where we reached rather terrifying speeds (or at least I was terrified…..but I always had the option of braking harder!) and winding bends that were fun to go around.  The trikes handled amazingly well.  One of the other advantages of the trikes is that the braking system is so good that you don’t get the terrible hand ache that you can get on a long descent on the bike when you are having to brake almost continuously.

After the main descent the road continued down the valley – still mostly gradually down hill but now with more small undulations.  Our legs were pretty spent so these undulations felt really painful, so we decided to start looking for a hotel.  The first hotel did not seem to exist (or at least not where marked on googlemaps). The second hotel was clearly not really open but they could open up a rather dingy bungalow style room for us but there was no where to eat and nowhere to buy food. So we decided we would have to continue another 10km down to the end of the road where there was a town and the junction with highway1 (which we had followed in parallel earlier in our trip). Luckily the undulations stopped and it was a more or less gradual down hill most of the way.

Into the town and the first guest house we tried had locked gates and no-one around. At our 4th attempt at finding some where we hit gold with a lovely little hotel with nice rooms, hot water and even a kettle in the lobby so we could make tea. We collapsed, more tired than we had been this trip, but both pleased and slightly surprised with what we had done and with how the trikes had handled up and down.

We both independently dreamed of pizza and our second stroke of luck was a great pizza place 10 minutes walk away.  We polished off 2 large pizzas and began to feel human again. Luckily only a short day planned tomorrow. 

 I am sitting in the early morning peacefulness of a forest surrounding, and listening to bird calls that I cannot identify having woken up from a superb night’s sleep in a tent.  The contrast between this jungle setting and the frantic pace of life in Chiang Mai is stark.  But this blog is about yesterday – and how we got here – not about today.

Yesterday started with a 6am alarm clock – a shock after two days of sleeping in until, well at least, 7am before we had gently argued who was going to get out of bed to put the kettle on.  We packed up, had porridge with mangos that we had bought from the market (delicious) and took our bags down to load onto the trikes just before 7.  We interrupted (or tried not to interrupt) the daily blessing for the hotel given by the Buddist monk who collected alms.  It is a ritual few visitors see and has a reverent quality on both sides that it is touching.  Hearing traditional buddhist chants in a modern hotel foyer shows the compromise of the new and the traditional which is at the heart of this country.

Once prayers were over, the hotel staff were fascinated by the trikes and we had photos taken with multiple “seewadikhars” expressed as thanks for our stay and good wishes for our travels.  Politeness seems to be hard-wired into the Thai mindset (just as it is hard-wired out of other groups, such as New York taxi drivers).  It is genuinely meant and a constant delight.

The traffic was light as we ambled on the back roads (thanks to Kamoot) out of the city.  Almost instantly, the tourist centre gave way to the back-streets with its usual variety of stalls, motor bike shops, plastic container collectors and numerous other small businesses, partially conducted on the street and partially inside.  

We ambled along in the peace of the morning, following the banks of the river Ping.  This mighty river is much smaller here – maybe only 20m wide in places but it seems clear that living on the banks is prestigious as there were lots of architect designed houses with river frontages.  Thailand is not a country short of money – it is a successful capitalist economy with fertile land, a government that is a democracy (to an extent), issues of corruption, light regulation (or at least light enforcement) and cheap labour coming in from neighbouring countries such as Myanmar.  Those are almost perfect conditions in which the rich can grow richer, the middle class can develop and the poor have few opportunities to break out from the life of previous generations.  The fruits of this were shown by the lovely houses along the river – almost always with a boy in the garden sweeping up the teak tree leaves – a seeming endless job.

Gradually the valley narrowed and we found ourselves on the main (and only) road heading north.  It was a dual carriageway at times with road works (always a challenge on trikes) but the number of lorries diminished as we got away from Chaing Mai.  Then it developed into a road through a narrow section – almost a gorge – with steep foliage on both sides.  About 11 we stopped for something to eat and were overcharged for lunch.  We nearly got all indignant about the cost until we realised that it was still under £10 for a full lunch for two.  We paid up and resolved to make sure we agreed prices in advance next time.  

After about 80km we slipped off the main road into a series of side roads and arrived in an area which was full of holiday bungalows.  This is about an hour’s drive north of Chaing Mei and is where people flee the heat for a weekend in the mountains.  It is a famous area for bird watchers and is a setting off point for trekking into the mountains. 

We met Brian and Sugar – two young people from Chiang Mai who were up here for the weekend.  Brian is from the US and Sugar is from Thailand, and graduated from Nottingham university in computer science.  They had also cycled up from Chaing Mei.  Brian is a PE teacher at an International School who has taken a positive decision to live here as opposed to in the US.  Brian is a keen cyclist and provided us with lots of useful information about Laos.  Sugar works in IT for Exxon Mobile, both in Thailand and internationally.  They are planning to cycle around Europe at some point, so we introduced them to the concept of warmshowers.  It was a pleasure shooting the breeze with them both.

Although we could have booked a bungalow, we camped for the first time so we could check all the camping stuff worked properly.  We did not want to discover holes in the sleeping mat when we were wild camping in Laos.  I can report there are no such holes – or none found to date.  Today we have a day off and my main task is to dismantle the back of Bernie’s trike, grease everything and put it back together so that it stops squeaking.  We may visit caves, do a jungle walk and read books, but the removal of the squeak is my primary task.  Such is the change in my life when my daily task would be appearing in the High Court to sit as a Judge or argue a complex point of law.  Now it is “squeak detective”, and the change is super welcome.

Today we really relaxed into life in Chiang Mai and started to appreciate all it had to offer, as Thailand’s “Birmingham” ( second city – but with obviously less charm and humour).  We started the day wandering around a big market area. This was a ‘real life’ Thai market.  There were a few tourist souvenirs here but most were for locals; stalls and stalls of nuts, dried fruits, spices, dried fish, meat and all conceivable goods for the home. There was also a great flower market which was a colourful sight in itself.  Great fun just to wander around.

Next up was breakfast – great omelets in an unpresupposing cafe.  All coffee (to date) has been good in Chiang Mai, and this did not disappoint – so no worries there.  That set us up for a cultural session visiting Wat Chedi Luang . All the temple complexes are in the midst of the bustling city but we walk into a space that is incredibly peaceful. This one contained the remains of what was an enormous Chedi (like a conical tower) dating from the 15thC. In its heyday it housed a revered emerald buddha but had crumbled away to almost nothing until restoration work started in the 1990s.

Astonishingly, it was never finished because those in charge could not decide how to finish it off at the top – so the top was never completed! Can you imagine that happening to a Cathedral in Europe.  However it happened here and yet the result is strangely eerie and evocative.  Almost next door was Wat Pan Toa, a beautiful 14thC teak building (also recently renovated).

By now we had walked miles and it was getting hot so we retreated to the hotel for the afternoon, finalising our plans for the next few days and getting last bits of shopping,

In the evening we had our first disappointing meal in Thailand. We had Thai style burritos, which we thought would be quick (and a last chance of some ‘western’ style food for a while).  We enjoyed people watching for 20, 25, 30 minutes – then mine arrived but no sign of David’s.  Another 20, 25, 30 minutes and after he stomped around somewhat (so unusual in Thailand) it eventually arrived.  We ate up and left – after David applied a suitable discount for the delay (to which they did not argue at all)!

However, the evening finished on a real high.  We strolled to the North Gate Jazz Coop and arrived just in time for an hour and a half set in a cozy upstairs venue by a brilliant ‘swing’ group made up of a group of muscians who have found themselves in Chaing Mei.  The band contained 2 Russians (a female singer and a man (we assume her partner) who led the band from the double base), a Thai saxophonist, a Californian jazz pianist called Alan and an Italian drummer called Giovanni with a PhD in musicology.  They meshed together brilliantly and worked their way through some swing classics.  Who would have thought we would find such great live music.

We foot tapped our way home. Pleased with our Chiang Mai sojourn but ready to get back on the road again tomorrow. 

There is not a great deal to say about today – except that eagle eyed readers will have noticed that my OCD tendencies have come to the fore and I have renumbered all the previous blogs to get them right – so this is “day 15” and is Thursday (all day) and 15th January (again all day).  Someone will have been as irritated as me about our inability to number and date the blog pages correctly – and have quietly said to himself or herself “Just get it right”.  You are now put out of your misery – it is all now in order.  Now we can both worry about other things of equal (or possibly even of lesser) importance.

I cannot get over how conflicted I feel about Chiang Mei.  We rode 800km to get here and so should feel pretty good about arriving, but there is a slight feeling that this is Thai-ersatz, but that may be unfair.  All the bits of Thailand that we have grown to love are here, but the effect of being in a tourist hotspot is that they are packaged slightly differently – and thus work better for tourists (which include us of course).  I recall that when we were in Mexico were told that Cancun was a Mexican tourist city that Mexicans went to in order to learn what life was like outside Mexico.  Chiang Mei has something of that feeling, but at the same time a short away from the tourist main drag is a Thai city indistinguishable from those we have passed through to date.  It perhaps has a slight Morcambe and Wise effect – all the right notes but not necessarily in the right order.  The bars and restaurants (almost every other outlet) all have menus In English (brilliant for us of course).

There are tattoo parlors on every corner and I feel somewhat naked without any body art.   am tempted to have “nil desparandum carburubdum illegitami” tattooed across some discrete bit of my body but have resisted so far – mainly because I doubt the spelling will come out right.  

Chaing Mei is a loverly, vibrant city where the centre is full of European, American, Australian and Chinese people – i.e tourists like us.  There are a surprisingly large number4 of oldies like us (not many on bikes) and the  Chinese are, without doubt, the best dressed and the best at applying make up (both sexes).  Appearance must be a high factor in China as I cannot believe they only dress up to go abroad.

But there are also marvelous cultural sites.  We went to a series of temples this morning but Wat Phra Singh Woramahawihan stood out.  We were there as the monks did their morning chanting – and it was magical.  We could have been back in the Benedictine Abbeys of our youth.  The descriptions are best shown by photos but the tourists did not spoil the reverence.

The afternoon was a trike fixing, reading, relaxing and sorting out time.  We have planned the next week or so into Laos and are both excited and a touch daunted by the prospect.  The hills will get bigger and the overnight stays will become more basic – and we may have to camp.  

In the evening we ambled out to the tourist infected night market – dishes from all over the world on offer but we both plumped for Thai food and Thai beer.  I think we may have either acclimatised or gone native.  Then an amble back across a foot bridge where we specifically told not to sleep on the bridge – which had seemed so much more attractive than our hotel but we are law abiding folk at heart and so compromised by going back to our air conditioned room.

We knew we only had a short hop today so got up leisurely.  David’s cough and cold had not been good in the night. We had had a good meal in the evening – taking the safe options (my stir fried prawns and vegetables was stuffed full of a range of delicious veggies) so  we could not blame the deep fried frogs, pigs brains or blow your mouth off curries that were also on the menu for his demise.  (On this note we tried some ‘street stall’ bbq chicken in a little village yesterday – it was all skin and bone….yes literally just skin and bone….it may well be a delicacy for some but unfortunately had us gagging (luckily we were eating them out of site and put them straight into a bin!)

I therefore left David to recuperate while I went to see the main site in Lamphun – the Wat Pra That Haripunjaya. The temple complex was beautiful and peaceful.  Full of ornate gold and colourful paper lanterns. Most of the visitors were Thai, coming to make their devotions. Flowers were laid, candles lit, packages of food left and gongs and bells rung. People were buying bottles of liquid which were poured into a replica long boat, clearly something of great significance. I felt rather out of place as a stray western tourist.

Back at the hostel we packed up and cycled the rather tedious 28km to Chaing Mai. We checked in to Sri Pat guesthouse and we pleased that it lived up to it’s good write up in the guide book. A lovely building in a quiet back street, a large comfy bedroom and a little swimming pool.  The perfect place to hole up for a few days.

Whilst we were cycling a remarkable thing happened – we were passed by someone on a two-wheeled recumbent bike. She just waved to us and carried on before we had a chance to ask “what, why or how” it felt to ride such a machine. She looked European, not Thai but cannot say more than that. So if, perchance, the rider is reading this, please contact us with some details. But we can say confidently that we are not the only recumbent riders in Chaing Mei today.

It was a shock to the system to be in a busy city full of western tourists – like ourselves of course. Chaing Mai is the second largest city in Thailand but the old city is crammed with hotels, guest houses, restaurants, an inordinate number of tattoo parlours and the occasional cannabis cafe. It was quite an adjustment strolling round and hearing numerous languages…but at least we are not the only people in the hotel!

In the evening we had a delicious meal in a Burmese restaurant, topped with deserts of sticky rice and mango and friend bananas and ice cream – a real treat.

Chiang Mei was our first target – and we made it. We have covered over 800km so far and seen far more of Thailand than on either of our two previous visits. We are now in “planning mode” to plot our way across the mountainous areas to Laos. The only thing we know for sure is that the hills get bigger from now on.