Golden Temple Amritsar

On the road again..............finally

Here are me and my new companion Kieran crossing the long awaited and belated border between India and Pakistan. The last few weeks have been a constant struggle to obtain the necessary documents to proceed to Pakistan and Iran but with a bit of grit and determination and the inevitable dollar we finally got everything wrapped up in Delhi last Friday so since then it has been all go, go, go. That for a man who has done nothing but wait, wait, wait for the past two months is about two and half goes too many. Leaving Mcloud Ganj up in the Himalayas on Sunday morning I calculated that I have spent 6 days on my bike in the past three months if my brain was not transmitting this fact to my subconscious my legs certainly were, it was a struggle to say the least and considering this first day to Pathankot consisted of a 1700m descent and the rest flat the tidings were looking rather grim. Thankfully though the body maybe weak but the mind is still strong so I am writing this 300km later in Lahore grateful for the days rest but feeling slightly more optimistic about my state then four days ago.

Delhi this time round was a much more civilised affair as I was staying with some good friends in a beautiful apartment in a quieter area of Delhi then my usual haunt around the main bazar. I have always been a champion of eastern hospitality but this about took the biscuit with all my meals being served and cooked by a smiling Nepalese maid and my friends doing everything in their power to entertain an Irishman bored of waiting, anyone who knows me knows that this is not an easy task! For all those lovely people who are reading this entry my heartfelt thanks go out to you and look forward to seeing you all again in the near future.

The cycle to Lahore was a monotinous trudge through the plains of the Punjab with a mixture of dust, trucks and incredibly fast and noisy buses. On the positive there are sikhs everywhere who are such a friendly breed of people you would not believe this coupled with cycling with a companion for the first time since Tibet made the pain in my legs bearable and in retrospect was probably ideal for my reintroduction in to the cycle touring trade as there was not a climb in sight. Our last stop in India was Amritsar where the Sikh's golden temple is situated which is quite beautiful and which also offers free accomadation to weary travellers such as ourselves which was very clean, warm and comfortable and run by an extremely friendly man who offered us tea every minute of the day and gave us a big hug on departure, probably my first from a big bearded turbaned man but hopefully not my last!

The border crossing was rather uneventful, I don't know what I was expecting maybe a few derogeratory slurs being shouted from one side to the other but unfortunately/fortunately it was rather peaceful. We also met a couple of Nepalese cyclists heading on the same route as us, they were part of the inspiring group of people who travel on 1 speed bikes and with about 2 kilos of luggage, really put us with our 27 speed bikes and 20 kilos of luggage to shame. We later found out that there 2 kilos of luggage mostly contained postcards and souveneirs from their country to give to people, bloody do-gooders!

The entrance to Lahore was an adrenaline rush and maybe one of the most dangerous sections of my trip to date. A 4 - 5 lane motorway filled either side for 3 kilometres with the biggest livestock market I have ever seen, sheeps the size of goats, goats the size of cows, cows the size of bulls, bulls the size of tanks and camels the size of giraffes numbered in their hundreds. Thankfully they were well marshelled and were not part of the obstacles that were needed to be avoided post haste, never before have I seen such a variety of animal and motor drawn vehicles going left right and centre and I dont think for a full 30 minutes I had the chance to blink. We managed to find a rather cosy room and after wiping off the mouse shit form my bed and eating a kilo of beautifully bar-b-qed red meat I fell in to a peaceful slumber.

So far the Pakistanis are everything I have heard them to be, extremely friendly without being obtrusive and willing to help in every way possible. I have barely been here 24 hours so yet to make a conclusive judgement.

Tomorow we will start to go towards Multan which may take about 3 days, from there it is about 7 days across the mountains, snow permitting, to get to Quetta where we will take a train across the rather dodgy Baluchistan to Zahedan in Iran.

Mum paying her respects to Nandi.

My front garden in Delhi.

The here and now

Although I hesitate to contribute to my blog when I have not seen let alone cycled my bike for the past 5 weeks I believe a brief update may be necessary to let people know of my whereabouts. Unfortunately Delhi has been my home for three of the past four weeks and though this has been made bearable by the fantastic combination of Delhi friends, old travel friends, old school friends and not so old parents every pore in my body yearns for the escape from the engulfing noxious air of this city.

The weeks out of the saddle have made me soft, so much so that by the time of the departure of my parents I had returned to my south side marshmallow state and was committed to skipping Pakistan due to the unrest, flying to Dubai, ferry to Iran and continue from there. Despicable thought in retrospect. Thankfully due to the arrival of new and enthusiastic blood in the shape of Kieran and a "harden up" e-mail from a certain relation my lust for adventure returned, and my bones are aching for the return to the saddle.

After a series of quite remarkable coincidences which would prove to the most devout cynics that fate exists, the impossible was achieved, a 20 day Pakistan visa. Not enough to cycle across the whole country but it will certainly mean I can continue along the full distance by land, not ideal but considering the state of Pakistan it will do nicely!. I will not divulge the particulars which led to the issuing of the visa but the many gods who have helped me get so far continue to aid me in my travels, and I venture to an uncertain Pakistan certain of my well being.

All that remains to be done in Delhi is to obtain my Iranian visa which will hopefully be done by mid next week. This could have been done in Pakistan but not quite willing to leave everything to fate and the gods I believe a quick escape route may be necessary if things escalate while we are there. After the issuing of this visa I will return to my neglected steed up in the beautifully fresh air of Bhag Su in the Himalayas with a friend from Delhi.
Where i will wait for Kieran who has the less enviable task of cycling out of Delhi and up through the Punjabi plains to meet me a couple of weeks later, one hell of a way to start your cycle touring life! One can never dictate what will happen in the next 24 hours in India let alone three weeks but if all goes according to plan I will have safely crossed the boarder in to Lahore. Keep your fingers crossed!

For more information from now on you can check Kieran's blog at delhi2dublin.blogspot.com also there is a link to a charity site that he is doing his cycle for, THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME AND WHAT I AM DOING but the charity sounds like a worthy cause so if you would like to sponser him and relieve some weight from your wallets don't hesitate

At last I meet my romantic picture of the Tibetan people, it is just a shame it has to be here in Dharamsala, the exiled home of the Dalai Lama, and not in their rightful home in Tibet. The peopleI described as cold and vacant on my departure form the roof of the world could be from a different planet compared to the 5000 strong community of exiled Tibetans currently n residence in the surounding mountains. The monks here are amiable and talkitive, one recounting his march along with 14 compatriats across the Himalayas, risking being shot on sight by the chinese to escape their beloved country. I have tried to keep as open a mind as regards the tibet issue since the start but talking to the exiles it is hard not to become the most radical of partisans. The rape of their country has been done with such clinical british colonial techniques that one can see no return for these people to the land they lust for. Tibetans historicaly had never let foreigners in to their country due to a prophecy forseeing the destruction of their land and culture by foreign invaders, this goes somewhere to explain the natives unwelcoming nature towards us whiteskins.

On a lighter note Miss Tibet 2007 has just been concluded last night with a firework spectacular, Indian style. Unfortunately due to the 4euro entry fee I stayed away from the grand finale but on my arrival here a very excited Delhi man accosted me to show me with delight on his camera shots from the swimsuit section of the competition, 5 beautiful scantily clad Tibetans frolicking about at the side of a pool. Reaction from the monks is one of disdain towards the competition, but seeing alot fileing towards the event last night reinforced my opinion that blind devotion to religion or not men love to see semi naked women!

Unfortunately the Dalai Lama is not in town at the moment so my main reason of coming here and attending some of his teachings will not happen, but with mountain trails galore around these parts i will not be short of distractions.

Rishikesh was everything that I needed and more and kept me settled for three weeks, the longest i have stayed in one place for 7 months, quite a thought. It offered a combination of religious India, jungled mountains, bathing in the Ganga, tropical waterfalls and some much needed companionship from some of the best charachters I have met so far. The highlight being sleeping on a deserted beach on the Ganga for a few nights with a great bunch of people. After camping alone so often of late it was nice to share the outdoor experience with others.

The five days cycling from Rishikesh to here were uninspiring at best. Hot, busy roads combined with expensive hotels made it the least enjoyable of all the legs so far. The realisation that it will be the last time being alone gave me the feeling of concluding the first stage of my way home. I am delighted to be gaining a companion for the rest of the journey but it is also with some trepidation to see how my deeply embedded solitary ways will incorporate an extra personality. I believe there is only so much time a human being should spend alone being such sociable creatures and for the moment at least i have filled my quota.

Sitting here on my balcony looking west over the Punjabi plains soaked in early morning sunshine I realise this is my last stop on my himalayan voyage which has brought me 5300km from Kunming to here, which is really rather emotional. What lies in wait until northern Iran will be very flat, very hot, very cold, very dusty and very different. They say a change is as good as a break but I will enter the next stage of my trip with hesitation due to the political situation in Pakistan. That all seems a long time in the future as after passing a week here I will leave my bike here and venture forth to Delhi where I will meet my parents for a 10 day holiday in Rajasthan. Then after waving goodbye to them i will welcome Kieran and will begin the preperations for the middle east, most importantly to try and persuade the Irish embassy to allow me to go to Pakistan. What kind of world do we live in where my country decides where I can and cannot go.

The road to Badrinath.

Blending in flawlessly with the pilgrims.

7256metres high, how many Carantuhals can you fit in that?

there is no comas on this keyboard!

I have come to the conclusion that I am a gluton for punishment. Like most conclusions of this sort it did not hit me all at once but dawned on me gradually over the last 10 days. having so much time alone with my thoughts with only Rocanate to affer an opinion which although he is a very astute bicycle a bicycle he remains. conclusions are slow in coming if at all so it was with some relief that I concluded at least one in the past fortnight.

It was while I was returning to over 3000m and 7km away from the Tibetan border that this notion first announced itself to my cerebrium. The last 10 days contained a demoralising amount of descents and when you are ascending to 3400m from about sealevel it equates to a horrific amount of climbing . Even yesterday as the road followed a youthful Ganga down to Rishikesh (my current abode) Indian engineers deemed it fit to stick in a 20km climb. at km 70 of my 120km day I was needless to say unimpressed. As I was struggling through 10.20.30 and even 40km straight climbs over mostly diabolical roads while novilty airhorns were continually trying to make me deaf from the passing trucks for the first time an evil voice in the back of my mind spoke up "get a bus" it whispered maliciously. of course refusal was my reply but he persisted and it took all my bike-ho attitude to get me here without using a four wheeled beast. The resulting conclusion was easier to come across. I need a break!

But the last 10 days despite the almost relentless climbs. bad roads. heat and ear piercing horns have been glorious. A pilgramage route in India must be the gretest path to follow on a bicycle. I shared meals and conversations with babas who dotted the route with brilliant orange and recounted Kim-esque tales of their nomadic lives. On two occasions truck loads of sikhs pilgramiging from the Punjab hailed me over to enjoy a delicious roadside Thali prepared in their truck. to interrogate me in the blunt Indian manner ( by the end I was starting to believe that 24 is very old not to be married and went through a list in my head of possible wives!) and posing (always helmeted) for their latest in camera phone technology. It is hard to get used to see a fully garbed long bearded Sikh looking the same as his fore-fathers did remove a trendy nokia phone from his cotton folds. Being on a bicycle and struggling I believe promotes a better relationship with the pilgrims and not once did I have a babas tiffin box dangled my way in hope of a few ruppees contribution. they all just seemed to want to share.

The scenery as I hope the photos will somewhat portray was astounding and for the first time on my trip 7000m plus mountains were deshrouded of their clouded masks an revealled their full splendour to me. Badrinath. the furthest I reached was in easy hiking distance to the view of three such peaks. this coupled with the towns huge religios importance with hot springs flowing in to the white watered Ganga beside a splendidly colourful and ornate temple made it a great place to pass a few days and converse with pilgrims of all castes and heritage.

Rishikesh so far seems the perfect place for a weeks rest and with yoga couses a plenty. a weeks top up course maybe in order. If my feet get itchy in the next few days. rather then packing my bags as usual I may resort to just a good scratch.

The charming man from the internet cafe has just removed my camera usb form the computer and told me its not allowed so photos will be uploaded at a later time.

Nainintal is called the Switzerland of India, infact alot of places claim such a title with pride in these parts that surely Switzerland is the Himalayan India of Europe, hardly important but the atmosphere of thriving to be European to be found in these parts is starting to get to me. It truely is a beautiful place and resembles the Alpine slopes of the Portes du soliel so much I was starting to get a little nostalgic on my 35km climb up here from the sweltering plains, that was until a troop of monkeys sauntered across the road which promptly reminded me I am very much in India. The road up here was great and passed large Colonial mountain resort hotels which reminded me of Kiplings India when the Raj did as I have just done and escaped the horrible heat of the plains to a more civil climate.

The road from Pokara took me 9 days and just over 800km mostly in heat that a pasty Irish lad has no right to be doing anything but sitting in an air con bar sipping on a guinness, but one has to do what one has to do and it was very enjoyable to be riding flat well paved roads again through national parks and remote vilages. It also provided me with a few mini adventures, the above swollen river barred the way of modern transport, but there is no obstacle too big or gushing for my Rocanante, laughing off the protests of the stranded passengers I removed my socks and shoes and ventured forth, having done so so many times in Tibet, this though was the deepest yet with water flowing to my waist and a couple of times I nearly had to wave goodbye to my trusty steed as the current was a little stronger then expected, despite a signal from a pesky Nepali that there was a crocodile behind me and having seen alot at past bridge crossings I managed to make it without adding extra soilage to my bicycle shorts. This animal fright was not reserved to river crossings, an illegal night camping in the national park renowned for its large bengali tiger presence proved I am not as brave as I thought and the things that go bump in the night contrived to me not having a single wink of sleep and being nothing short of petrified for most of it, will not be doing that again in a hurry. The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful, visited the birthplace of buddha, met two Nepalese on the last pass in Nepal and ended up staying in their house for a couple of days and been invited to countless meals and houses, only accepting a few. Travelling alone does have its drawbacks but its advantages far outweigh these.

It really is great to be back in India and being on a bike gives it other dimensions, for one people think you are so crazy and poor they tend not to try to rip you off which is a welcome change. There are a few downsides aswell, deafness, I fear is just around the corner for me with the Indians love of the airhorn, the heat and dust has given me an eye infection and the meandering cow is an obstacle not to be taken lightly! After here I shall be going further North in to the Himalyas to the source of the Ganga with the rest of the pilgrims and then follow it down to Rishikesh where I hope to meet some friends.

Christianity has a long way to go to make a serious impact on the plains of Nepal.

Leaving the Himalyas in Nepal.

Hello to one and all from Pokara, really very little to report from the last three weeks and a meager 300km travelled. After waiting in Kathmandu for two weeks for adequate tyres to arrive for Rocanante sent specially from Bangkok my feet were as itchy as they can get to hit the road once more. Having been under a rigorous and some times brutal get fat plan in Kathmandu my energies were high and my lungs full to the brim with the comparitively large amount of oxygen at 1000m so it was with great spirits that I delved in to the Kathmandu traffic on a rainy Monday morning. Despite a few skin burning hours of sunshine which reminded me how nervous I am about how devishly hot the plains of India are going to be the rain followed me with a commendable taunascity so rarely seen in monsoon showers. It did little to dampen my mood as I followed an impeccably paved road through lush valley after lush valley with gushing rivers heavy with the monsoon cascading over every available rockface to accompany its brethren in the raging torrents racing towards the plains to add to the local's miseries.

I took my time on my way here taking a few side trips to Gorkar and Bondipor including a rather eventful camping beside bulging paddies which in retrospect was not the smartest idea but if you saw the view from my opened tent door you would understand the risk. So I arrived here a very damp boy and with a rather nasty dose of dysentry which in the last four days has destroyed what my 2 weeks of the costly get fat plan had achieved, serves me right for drinking well water during the monsoon, I might have to penney pinch in a more intelligent manner in the future.

There are many viable reasons for me to stay here in Pokara for an extended amount of time, the floods, the 40 degree heat in the plains at the moment and the vast amount of time I have to get to Delhi a mere 2000km away but I think the main reason is how much I love it here. Yoga every morning, followed by a swim in the lake (my first since Sydney), great cheap restaurants and an amazing family guest house tucked away at the agreeable price of a euro a night with some very interesting neighbors as only a place like Pokara can provide, viva las hippies! My plan at the moment is to pass another week here and then make my long awaited return to India and Varanasi, about 700km away.

I will finish with a quick ode to the Nepalese people. They are without doubt one of the most genuinely friendly people I have met on my travels to date with an unbelievable knowledge of the English language from large town to small complimented by manners that only close proximity to a commonwealth country can provide. Though never one to condone colonialism any institution which promotes the use of referring to me as "sir" by all and sundry has to have its good points, at last some bloody respect!

The longest descent in the world but also up there for the worst.

Monks boots Xigatse

After re-reading my last entry I feel I have given the Tibetans a rather unfair review so here to somewhat ammend my comments is a picture of me buried by kids a yak herders festival where we were treated as homoured guests.

Kathmandu

This particular computer will no allow me to upload any of my photos, I believe it is a personal affront as I have seen it do so before, rather than be discouraged by its flipant disregard to my readers visual pleasure I will carry on regardless and attempt to entertain you without any bright colour aids.

I arrived in Kathamndu about 5 days ago, a shadow of my former self. The unseasonal dryness which the himalayan gods offered me on my route to Lhasa was replaced by a persistant 10 day deluge, maybe a little exagerated but one must allow for poetic liscence, which left my spirits a little low and my need for civilised comforts at an all time high, which this city of plenty has duly catered for amply.

Despite having an amazing time in Tibet, by the end I was a very happy chappy to be leaving it, its idea of a fond fairwell are very different to my idea of polite goodbye, but then again it seemed fitting in a country that abides by no conventianal rules of courtesy. But courtesy has no place in such a harsh enviroment, the places where these people live and beat out an existance boggles the mind, children throwing rocks at me and pooing outside my tent seems more suited up there then if they were to invite me for afternoon tea, its nature versus nurture, both of which in Tibet would contrive to make any individual wild. I would hate to give off the impression that Tibetans are not nice people and inevitably the reaction you get from most is one of friendly inquisitiveness but they are like no other race of people I have met, there is a vacancy in there eyes and a coldness about there person that makes it very hard to engage in any sort of interaction. I have no idea if this is an historical trait of their race or a reaction to being ruled by the same regime which turned their most sacred temple in to a pig sty and exiled their spiritual leader. Despite trying to delve in to the subject on numerous occasions with both sides of the story, inane blankness was the usuall reply or if I am lucky a speal of chinese rhetoric, very entertaining, the propanganda machine, though losing some weight in the past decades is still in great use in china today.

The road from Lhasa to Kathamndu passes turquise salt lakes, lunar landscapes, plenty of 7000m + mountains and offers on five occassions spectacular views of Mt. Everest. I saw the lake but the rest I will just have to take other peoples words for it, glimpses of vast glaciers which herald the base of something huge are all I got to glimpse between the huge grey clouds which were constantly getting blown about by the prevailing southerly gale, which turned out to be my great nemesis of the last leg. A nemesis which brought me to tears on my last double pass in Tibet which were both horrifically exposed peaks of over 4900m, the horizontal hail battering my face was nothing compared to the foe who forced me to dismount and tackle the last kilometere by foot which still was no easy feat, much to my dismay this foe continued to blow for the next 140km, taking away any pleasure from the worlds biggest vertical descent which would of been hard to take anyway considering the quality of the road. A section of road to the Nepalese border was described in a guide book as "1600m vertical descent in 33km, you are going to fly", the particulars were correct and the flying part could well of come true aswell if I did not hastily redirect my bike in to a pile of sand instead of departing off the side of a cliff. The road was under construction which meant it was a bomb site, I had to sit and watch as they blew up a cliff over the road only for a piece the size of the road to depart from its perch crash in to the road and take the road with it down the side of the cliff, on two occasions i had to carry my bike over huge boulders with falling rocks narrowly missing my cranium, on a particular powerfull river crossing my front paniers took a bit too much pressure and toppled my bike, dunking me rather uncerimoniously in the river, the worst of it was the rapid erosion of my brake pads leaving me by the end virtually brakeless for the 200km to Kathmandu. what I optimistically proposed as taking me less then an hour to pass, this particular section of road took me a little less then 4 hours.

On the whole it was a very enjoyable leg of the voyage although I have only mentioned doom and gloom, it just makes a better read then another composition on the picturesque beauty of the Himalayas and how brilliant bicycle touring is, I believe I have mentioned that before. I will be in this city for another week while I wait for the lethargy of Indian Beaurocracy to sort out my visa and then it is to the west or maybe east or maybe south, who knows.

This was one of the most impressive roads to look at but one of the most disastrous roads to descend. White knuckles clenching the brakes the whole way over loose rocks and silty sand, if the speedometer read more then 20 you were happy and then suddenly petrified at the impending quarry you had to pass and the seemingly inevitable buckled wheel.........good photo though.

This isme struggling in to a headwind on my first 5000+ pass ( I say plus because it sounds more substantial than 5011m), the second of the two 5000+ passes which stood in my way between Kunming and Lhasa bizarely peaked at 5013.25m, there was even a large marble plaque to boast of the fact. I concluded that there must be a pass standing at 5013m in Japan or someother historicaly rival nation, not to call the chinese petty but it somehow fits in with their mentality on all things past. The second pass was a much easier affair thanks partly to paved roads, me being alot more acclimatizd to the altitude and most importantly safe in the knowledge that in two days time I would be safely installed in the western comforts of Lhasa. The first on the other hand was on semi-passable dirt roads, it was the first time at being at said altitude since getting appallingly altitude sick in Peru and being daunted by the knowledge that I stil had over 1200km to Lhasa, the last 3km of the climb took about an hour with anti-fainting breaks every 100m or less. My 50kg of bike and bags never felt heavier, nor my matchstick legs weaker.

I will try and be brief about the last month but there has been so many memorable experiences it may not seem so to the reader. The first three days from Dequin deserve special attention as these were the boarder crossing days, a time for cloak and dagger carry on. There were and to the best of my knowledge still are three main checkpoints which the independent traveller must be wary of, one could be passed at day the other two to be passed at night. So from Dequin it was 117km to our proposed campsite just outside Yinjian the site of our fist night crossing. It was to be an easy day with a 1500m vertical descent before a gradual climb up a river gorge. This was my first lesson that there is no such thing as an easy day in the Himalayas. The road was a mess, with punctures galore and kept us at best at a frustrating 12km an hour meaning we cycled from 8am to 12am with a quick nourishing noodle soup as our only sustanance. The day checkpoint provided an adrenaline rush, cycling by the police station in the middle of the village as nonchalantly as possible trying to make out we belonged as much as the wallowing yakswe hear shrill whistles and shouts coming form the direction of the station, our nonchalance turns to fightened haste quite quickly as we drop a gear and cycle like Lance " uh-oh a barrier, never mind we will go around through that shallow puddle, bugger not so shallow, damn stuck in the mud, push push, I'm free, go go". 2km later, muddy and sweaty but free. Was never quite sure if they were shouting and whistling at us, maybe they were inviting us for tea and biscuits, it will just have to be one of lifes mysteries that I will never discover. As the sun set and we switched to headlight reliance we turned a corner and heard a commotion, as my headlight is of the cheap chinese market variety its brilliance leaves alot to be desired we trudged on in pitch black ignorance to find a mass meeting of Tibetan horse people removing supplies from the back of a truck, as surprised as we were by this chance encounter we exchanged a warm "hello,ok,goodbye" (the tibetan staple) for umpteen times then decided it was time to push on. Unfortunately this was the start of 200km of roadworks so unbeknownst to western tarmacadamed Will roads could actually get worse and by golly they did. We concoled ourselves witha dusty building site hole on the side of the road to prepare our noodle soup and try to obtain a restless two hours sleep before continueing up along the cliff edge 3km from the first danger checkpoint. Leaving at 3am under the glow of the clearest noght sky I have ever seen we etched on lightless so as not to draw attention to ourselves. After nearly falling off the side of the cliff a couple of times we decided rather astutely that maybe one headlight might not be such a bad idea. Reaching the first lighted checkpoint we snuck by like burglar bill, climbed aboard our bikes and proceeded to get hopelessly lost in the back streetsof Yinjiang. Monty Pythn could not have done it better, two western fools trying to play espionage, oafing about for a couple of hours untill finally finding the way passed the second checkpoint before dawn. I think I can strke international spy off my potential employment possibilities.

The day before the second night crossing in Markham was noteworthy because of the appalling weather which turned the road in to a rocky, muddy ice rink, which my road tyres were no match for, coming off the bike twice and getting close countless other times was quite appealing in comparison to the hail stones lashing my face and the two torrent river crossings which left my person in a frozen state. At the camping spot still 20km from the checkpoint crossing the temptation to get a little closer was strong but the two ice blocks attached to my ankles refused to move. After a bountiful 4 hours sleep we left our camping spot at 2.30am and blindly went along in 1degree heat on went partly constructed roads, my fearless companion missed a turn went off the road but happilly collided witha pile of sand, we semi-heartilly laughed off the rediculousness of the situation. Only one more trial awaited that night in the form of a calf hungry dog who was out for a midnight treat, a quick rap on the head with our dog fighting sticks prompted him to look elsewhere.

After safely arriving in tibet the time just flew by with the passing of awe-inspiring scenery, glacial river bathing, tibetan festivals, stone throwing kids, near brushes with the police, sampa induced sickness, yak tribesmen, snow showers and torn achilles, oh yes and a hell of alot of cycling. Perhaps if I was a better typer I would delve in to these topics but I am not so I wont. I have to save some stories to bore my grandchildren with on winter eves.

Just a quick note about a remarkable 22year old student from Xi'an whom I met along the way. It was not just the fact that he was cycling to lLhasa that made him remarkable as that would be rather blowing my own trumpet but the fact he was doing it on a single speed bike the type of which you would be hard pushed to find in rural parts of India due to its antiquity. He is also planning to return by such a vehicle, the mad man. On the same note I was also impressed by the pilgrims I regularly passed on the roadside whom every step they take they fall flat on their face in salutation to Budha I suppose, I never asked. These people I passed more then 1000km from Lhasa and I hold nothing but the highest admiration for people who contain such devotion. These people also made me realise that if you compare your personal achievements with those globally you will always end up dissapointed and probably then turn rather bitter and twisted, a quite important minefield to be avoided.

So that is all from this inspiring town where I will pass the next week to rest my aching bones and chaffing ass before heading on via Everest base camp to Kathmandu where I should be by mid August.

Arrival in Lhasa, delighted

stay tuned for further information and photos, no energy for the keyboard at the moment

I have posted a few photos of the last few days to try and portray the variety of landscapes I have cycled through from Lijiang to Deqin but they dont seem to do them justice but then again photos rarely do, on that same note here is a picture of me. This was on top of my first 4000 metre pass, 4267 metres to be precise after 2 nights of camping in torrential rain and a 52km (20 of which were on cobbles), 2300 metre vertical ascent from the gorge of the youthful Yangtze river which unfortunately due to its force there were no cormorant assisted fisherman, nor cormorants, nor fishermen so maybe my childhood books were telling me lies, best not to think about it. Excuse the rambling I believe only the members of my insular family will have any idea what the hell I am talking about so back to the importancies. The Himalayas of this particular region seem to go up in very different phases of climate and flaura, not wanting to over simplify this immence natural beauty I believe it the best way to describe:
2000-3000- arid desert like river gorges with very little greenery to note but towering walls of varying dusty browns surrounding you at every angle.
3000-4000- depending where you are this altitude is either huge plains inhabited mainly by yaks, lucky blighters (that is unless they are dried then they are very tasty blighters) aswell as a beautiful collection of wild flowers and the inevitable grass. the other option is Alpine slopes covered in various types of pine trees but also with a plethora of different coloured wild flowers, I believe this to be your favourite altitude mum, also the campers due to the large amount of desirable pitching areas.
4000-5000- Coming out if the Alpine reaches and in to big mountain stuff, I have seen mountains today the colour of which nearly rival those of the Andes, bright copper reds, oranges and for the first time metallic silver alot of them look straight from Mars, or perhaps Mars looks like it comes straight out of the Himalayas, a rather pointless argument.
4500-6000- Finally reaching the white stuff, glaciers, glaciers and more glaciers, they make the Tignes glacier look like something that fell out of my freezer.

These last descriptions are all a little blazee and I am sure anyone who has been to this area before can nit pick a fault in every single altitude category but I am rather rushed for time and posess a limited capacity for the english language so by no means is this descripion gospel.

I have so much more to tell of the past week besides the scenery but I will finish with a farewll for the timebeing as I am about to cross the border in to unchartered waters well illegal waters to be more precise so like some kind of western fugitive i have to avoid towns during day for the next week or so, so the federales (PSB) dont catch on to me. I am sure it is not that bad but it adds a bit of excitement and saves the hassle of being sent back to Kunming with a fine lightening my pockets. So my last night in a bed potentialy untill Lhasa so it shall be enjoyed. If you want to conclude this e mail by humming "man on the run" by wings I believe, by all means do so, because it is what is going through my head at the moment.

Belated photo

Unfortunately my camera battery has given out so no photo on this belated report but judging by the himalayan scenery I have already encountered you will be sick of the sight of specacular mountains by the time i reach the plains of India in a few months time. Patience is after all a much sought after virtue!
Kunming reminded me and my trusty 2 wheeled steed of all that we have forsaken on my quest for the holy Dubh Linn. A comfortable city life with a great collection of friends complimented by a not too shabby night life and adding to this the bewildering process of how the Chinese manage to get anything done with such a flipant attitude to deadlines and you may begin to understand how difficult it was to tear myself away. But torn I am in Lijiang safe in the knowledge that I will return to this fascinating country for a concerted time sometime in the not so near future. Now is not a time in my life I care to stagnate so onwards and with the route in mind very much upwards.
"But wait" I hear my cultured reader remark "surely you are in China until you cross in to Nepal", how very astute of you to notice, though indeed I will be in china for a further two months in a poetic and bohemian manner I will from hence forth consider myself in Tibet. I am writing this with with one eye over my shoulder because if the communist party caught wind of the last sentence I could promptly be lying in a Lijiang jail having bamboo trees being grown through my naked torso!. I am nearly sure that does not go on any more but it adds some dramatic affect to this rather mundane paragraph. It is rather hard to keep this free thinking view of a Tibet when every inch of historical cobbled streets are infested with massive camera toteing Beijingites willing to steam roll over any unfortunate soul who gets between him and his flag waving tour guide. Up to now I believed the middle aged french tour group to be the plague on all places of natural and historical beauty but it seemed the devil had another card to play on the unsuspecting traveller.
This town like the last (Dali) are indeed beautiful but they bring to mind that if you got lost between "Thunder Mountain" and "Sea World" you may stumble upon Walt Disney's impression of what Olde China looks like, though I dont think Mao had his wicked way on these towns during the cultural revolution, I am sure they are not in their original state, I have even been told that the women in the indiginous Naxi tribe dress who perform the traditional dances are actually actresses brought from cities to the east. How deliciously irreverent this country is.
Back to the basics of this voyage, though as before mentioned I was dubious to leave Kunming getting back on the bike quickly reinserted the joy of the road in to my soul. I camped my first night last night feasting on home made noodle soup surrounded by fledgeling fir trees and forrested slopes reaching up to the dizzy heights of 4000 metres, an aperitif of whats to come.
A recouperation day tomorow before passing through "Tiger leaping gorge" on the way to Zhongdian where my intrepid cycling companion Vince will have his first run in with the law as he pleads his case for a visa extension. My mind boggles with the thought of crossing check points at night, camping for 2 weeks straight during the monsoon and cycling passes of up to 5200 metres but right now I would not be happier sitting anywhere else in the world.

This is just a recap photo of Vietnam, I stopped between villages to lube my chain. Within 5 minutes all these people just materialised from nowhere and stood around drinking from my water bottle and staring at the bewildering process of a westerner oiling his chain. I was going to start offering my autograph but noone seemed interested so I parted the crowd and headed on my way. It is not the best photo but it sums up how curious the Vietnamese were in a cycling Irishman.

Now I am safely installed in Kunming where everyone could not care less even if I was a flying Irishman. Annonimity is very much appreciated for a while, I was starting to get a bit of a rock star complex!

This is a fantastic city, where at 2000 metres the climate is continually spring like, hence the name "the spring city" and is surprisingly relaxed for a Chinese city of over 5,000,000. I have found a beautiful old park, where for an entrance fee of 10 cents you can drink all the green tea your bladder can handle. It is set around an ornate old pagoda, with lilly ponds with Koi carp swimming about, blossomed trees, flowers of all sorts and what I suppose to be bonsa trees, poplar trees and bamboo bushes but with my horticultural mind they could be anything. The best thing about this park are the people, practicing tai chi, martial arts and the many tables dotted about where the elderly enjoy their retirement by playing ma jong, cards and chinese chess. Having played a few games of chinese chess and not particularly liking (probably because I am rubbish) I stick to the western kind. Sitting under this pagoda on a wicker stool is how I have spent about 80% of my time here only leaving to feast on dumplings, dog or whatever else the roadside food stalls have to offer and at 40 cents for a meal I am considering taking early retirement here.

This retirement can not come in to practice untill the 10th of June, having to wait here until i meet a friend to carry on to Lhasa at that time with, I have found gainful employment by the Chinese Department of Commece, no honestly I have! There is a fair between the 5th and the 10th of June in Kunming to promote tourism in the area, and enthusiastic tourism graduates from Kunming universities are in great demand, oh and westerners, I at least tick one of these boxes so I am in. I have a meeting with some of the head honchos tonight at 8 which I have been reliably informed in true chinese style is a test of how much alchohol you can consume without passing out, finally a job interview a sink my teeth in to, maybe Chinese future domination of the world is not so bad after all! The best thing about this job is I will recieve a certificate at the end of it stating I have aided the Chinese government, now if that is not worth framing and sticking on the wall I dont know what is.

Vietnam

At last I have found a computer that will let me update my blog, unfortunately uploading a photo is still beyond it so no colourful pictures to attract the readers attention. I am updating this from the garage of a house in a village 60km from Son La in the North-Western corner of Vietnam. Internet cafes are everywhere in Vietnam but are so infuriatingly inept at accessing anything you want off the internet I usually leave them a very unsatisfied and slightly irrate customer. As a result of this I have alot of goings on to narrate to you my distinguished reader.
I was more then happy to leave Vientiene after 4 days of doing next to nothing, in fact that city has at most about half a days of activities to do in it, and applying for a Vietnam visa is included in that estimation. So I hit the road on that hazy Saturday morning with a determination to do some serious un-adulterated cycle touring(it sounds more rebellious in my head) and sitting here 12 days on and 1100km under my belt I can sleep easy knowing I have achieved what I set out to do.
The last 5 days in Laos continued the way they started, quite roads, smiling children, amazing scenery and lung busting climbs. I hate to be blazee about it as it was very enjoyable but there is really nothing much else to report.
After the inevitable border crossing beaurocracy and the officials unsuccessful attempts at getting a few dollars out of me Vietnam welcomed me with a most appreciated present........a windy 25km descent through rainforests all the way down to a gushing river lined by luminous green paddies. This scenery followed me till I found a bed to rest my weary legs, which after following 3 wrong directions I finally found. This first day in Vietnam was far from over, trying to find a place to eat in this small town a stumbled across a bar and decided to whet my whistle and sample some Vietnamese brew, which is very tasty. It was not long untill I was eating a feast with the owners family, while he continualy offered me one of his three daughters who were conservatively aged from 16 - 21, I politely declined. After stumbling back to my guest house, I tucked myself in to my bed only to be woken by a knock on my door, some army personelle wanted a quick word! Hastilly putting on some clothes and joining them for some green tea they inspected and copied every piece of writing on my passport, shook my hand and let me finally conclude my first day in Vietnam.
Deciding I wanted to see the sea one last time before Europe, a daunting year away I headed for the coast. Finding a nice isolated hotel somewhere north of Vinh in a small village on a particularly filthy stretch of the South China Sea I said my sad goodbyes to saline air. Heading down to the hotel restaurant for a bite to eat in the evening i found out the restaurant was closed and being 3km to the nearest one I reluctantly went for my bike. As luck would have it two very beautiful hotel employees were more then willing to take me out for a meal, so off I went sandwiched, a very delicious one I might add, between the two girls on the back of a motorbike, as we were departing a loud rumble was heard and the heavens opened. It will be a long lasting memory of flying along this country road, avoiding farmers frantically collecting their peanuts which they left drying on the side of the road, fork lightning lighting the sky around and getting thouroughly drenched, these are the reasons that one travels.
I am rambling on a little bit now and am getting more and more inarticulate as I go so to keep the high standards of this blog continuing i will try and finnish off. Though the above experiences were certainly memorable I think my favourite part of this country is the numerous times I have been invited by old men to drink green tea and smoke 2 foot long bamboo water pipes, they chatter away, smile at me every now and again, pour my tea fill my pipe as I sit there in a contented daze pondering how wonderful life is. The scenery in this country has been the best so far with the kasrt mountains thrown about amongst the contasting greens of rice paddies, tea plants, corn and sugar cane, but this does not compare to the hospitality of the people who in the majority take it upon themselves to welcome you warmly as a guest of their country.
Unfortunately I have to cut this Vietnamese leg of my journey short as lying on my bed this afternoon I luckily glanced at my Chinese visa and realised I have to enter the country in 3 days and being 400 mountainous kilometres away from the border I am praying that public transport services the back roads between here and there. So fingers crossed the next entry to this blog I will be safely in China.

Hello to one and all from sunny Vientiene. Not much to report I am afraid I just really want to post this photo of some monks crossing the top of a waterfall up near Luang Prubang, I ended up talking to them about girls, money and what they are going to do when they finish their time in the temple. Not the most pious and deep conversation I have had with a monk on my trip but I suppose 16 year old boys are the same all around the world.

I have to hang around Vientiene untill my visa for Vietnam is processed then it is direct east for about 6 days untill I get to Vietnam and then direct north in to China, through the mountains of vietnam, I hear this is one of the best routes in South East Asia. From the boarder the route is up to Kunming by mid June and then start on the Yunnan Highway to Tibet. Yes as I am sure it is no surprise to people who know me, I have had another oh so common change of heart and am reverting to my proposd plan, so no turning soft with the idea of plane travel, it is me and my bike the whole way.........hurrah!

Just a quick ode to my bike. After over 1600km and only one puncture my bike showed its first sign of fatigue, at the beginning I waved it off as nothing but a mere superficial wound, nothing a little spin wouldnt fix, but given a closer inspection on the morning before the my last leg I believed it to be something far more serious, maybe serious enough to have to amputate the rear hub, a suspected broken bearing. But surely not I thought, not in such a sprightly young bike, such ailments only happen to old, tired bikes? After easing her gently over the last 100kms in to town, I quickly sought out a much esteemed French cycle doctor renowned amongst the asian cycle community , he quickly assured me it was not serious, removed the sprocket, tightened some nuts and after applying some ointment to help her move more easily she was mine to discharge and take her home, as good as new. Now compared to most of the bikes people are touring on my bike looks quite old style, skinny and weak and does not look like it could handle any particularly rough roads or adventures, granted the true test is yet to come in China and beyond, but I believe she can do it. So after much deliberation I hereby call my bike "Rocacante" after the greatly underestimated steed of Don Quixote, I believe this calls for the 2nd hurrah of the post.........Hurrah!

Spectacular is the only way to describe the road from Luang Prabang to Viang Vieng, I really dont think cycle touring can get much better then this. 230km of perfectly sealed roads, three 1600 metre passes, 2700 metre of vertical ascent and descent all of which are very gradual so as not to work the legs or the breaks overly. Thankfully rainy season is on the way so mainly overcased conditions certainly help on 20km climbs.

The scenery was breathtaking with the karst mountains and cliffs shooting jaggadly up all around with dense jungle and villages clinging to the side, I have much better photos to demonstrate this but this being the only photo with me in it vanity got the better of me. The difference in wealth between here and Thailand was evident in Luang Prabang but once you left that tourist mecha it really hits you, the villages are mostly made of bamboo and leaves perched on the side of mountains with smiley mostly naked, filthy children running up to you shouting greetings, waving like maniacs and offering high 5's. No matter how tired you are, passing these villages never fails to plaster a smile from ear to ear on your face, that smile turns to a rather serious expression when passing one of the many army/guerilla pesonelle(it is had to tell which is which) strolling about with a kalashnikov round his shoulder, there being some trouble of late with tourists on this road so I usually bade them a cordial greeting dropped a gear and off I went as fast as my noodle legs could take me.

So safe and sound in Viang Vieng it is time for a day off before facing the 2ookm to Vientienne. Long live cycle touring!

Day 27 - 31 - 126km

After a perfect two day cycle from Chiang Rai to Chang Saen and then to Chang Khong along the hilly roads hugging the shores of the Mekong. There is nothing quite like cycling in the morning mists sweeping from the Mekong and being serenaded by the gibbons in the surrouding jungle, it makes you feel very far away from the N11. These were my last few kilometres in Thailand and though I would not like to say my best they certainly reminded me of how much I enjoyed the past 5 weeks touring through this beautiful country.

After a night in Chang Khong I took a boat across the river and in doing so entered in to Laos. From here I decided to take the "slow boat" down the Mekong to the world heritage town of Luang Probang. Throwing my bike on the roof of the river barge and paying an extortionate amount for this privilage I embarked upon the two day and 15 hour journey down the Mekong. This, as I had hoped, was a stunning journey through gorges, jungle lined mountains and small fishing villages, by the time I arrived in Luang Probang yesterday evening I was quite sad to be saying goodbye to that leg of my journey. That feeling was soon overshadowed by the beauty of this very touristic town, decaying 19th century French architecture splashed with a large amount of intricately detailed golden temples and wats and all lined by tall palm trees, quite unlike anything I have ever seen.

This morning from the vantage of a golden temple on a hill, I watched the rising sun peel its way slowly over the surrounding jungled mountains and clear the valleys bellow of their shroud of mist. After strolling through the bustling morning market and munching on some succulent ripe mango I breakfasted on noodle soup (which unbelievably is better then in Thailand), baguette and wonderfully thick, strong local coffee. Why yes I thought to myself, it is very good to be in Laos.

Change of Plan

After huffing and puffing, humming and hawing, deciding and redeciding I have finally come to the conclusion that me, my bike and the climate are not fit for my proposed route.
Due to monsoon season starting in a couple of weeks the roads from Kunming to Lhasa are subject to close for weeks at a time due to landslides. If for some by some chance I get to Lhasa unscathed the friendship highway between Lhasa and Kathmandu again due to too much water is not pasable untill late September, with my visa finshing at 20th August and extensions hard to get its another spanner in the works.
I am nearly sure my bike would have trouble as I have been informed by other tourers that you need a mountain bike for the friendship highway and the amount of new gear I would need to buy for the climate would not be cheap.
Although these are all viable excuses, excuses are what they are and with a bit of grit and determination I am sure I could overcome them, but I dont feel confident sneaking passed police in the dead of night to get in to closed areas of China and to deal with the factors above mentioned.
So my new route will bring me across to Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, and then back to Bangkok where at the end of August I will fly to Kathmandu and then continue with my proposed route. I should change the name of the blogpage to wills odd way round.

Day 20 - 26 - 197km

After thoroughly enjoying Songkram for three days in Chiang Mai and then spending another three days to recover from that maybe all too thorough enjoyment, I got that very familiar itch in my feet and decided it was time to go.

So in the wee hours of Friday morning I snook out of my guest house and hit the road once more. After twenty kilometres the realistion that partying and touring cycling are not a match made in heaven which is fortunate for my wallet which took a pounding this past week. After thirty kilometres all the excesses of the past week had been sweated out and I was beginning to enjoy the mountainous first stage towards Chiang Rai, winding flawless roads with two different national parks either side of me was the perfect return to the saddle. After 82km my legs had had quite enough so the sight of a roadside hotel was appreciated and at the low low price of 1.20 I said thank you very much. After passing a very boring afternoon, the road being the highlight of the town, I fell in to a deep sleep by 8.

Knowing I had 104km to go to Chiang Rai, I embarked at 5 this morning and had a very eventless cycle all the way there. It was long and hot but reletively flat and passed the greenest parts of the country I have seen so far. Taking it at a leisurely pace stopping at a few great eateries I arrived in the town at about 12. Thanks to it not being as small as I had hoped and taking alot of wrong turns I cycled for 1hour and 15kms around the town trying to find a good guest house, eventually having to give in and print a map from the internet. Moral of the story...........swallow my pride and buy a lonely planet.

Going to explore town tomorow, even though I am nearly sure I cycled passed everything today, and then probably head up towards the Laos border on Monday morning.

Day 16,17,18,19 - 142km

The 102km cycle from Mae Saliang to Hot was the best trip to date. If you had asked me 2 1/2 hours in to it you probably would have not found me so happy by it, the day started with a 25km climb which took me the above stated time. After this there was a fast enough up and down bendy road along the top of ridges, 35km from Hot all the sweaty, painfull climbs of the past week were paid back to me in kind with one of the longest descents I have ever done on a beautifully asphalted windy tree lined mountain road, I hardly had to apply pressure to the pedals for the full 35km , there is no better feeling then seeing those kilometre markers fly by you.

Another reason this cycle and all the ones of the past four days have been so great is that it is Songkram (Thai New Year), which is celebrated for a full week by water fights and alot of drinking, so through every town and village you pass you have children and adults cheering and throughing buckets of water over you. Never in my life could this of been more welcomed then in this past week, I feel like a competitor in the Tour de France with my hoards of adoring fans wanting to help me by cooling me off and cheering me on.

This weekend is the height of the celebrations, and nowhere in the country is it celebrated more then in Chiang Mai, so being less then 100km away I thought it would be rude not to make an appearance, so I cycled the 40km to the motor way (getting drenched through) stuck out my thumb and like magic a car stopped straight away, if anyone out there is thinking of travelling Thailand I highly recommend hitch-hiking it is so easy, but maybe not during Songkram as being hit by water while travelling 140kmph is damn sore . I was left just outside Chiang Mai where I cycled the 6km in to the centre through stand still traffic of people on the top of cars, back of youts, pickups, mopeds, bikes, people on the side of the road all having one big water fight, with ice water, flour water, red dyed water, canal water, beer, basically anything liquid they could get there hands on, cracking fun.

So I shall be staying here till the end of the festivities on Tuesday and beyond as I meet a friend from Peru here on the same day so this blog page, me and my bike will have a bit of a rest untill I hit the road again towards the end of the week.

Day 13,14,15 - 157km

This was the view I had over the Moen river to help me digest my breakfast of peanuts and sugared rice biscuits this morning at 7 a couple of hours in to my day of hill climbing.
I have just finished an incredible three days cycling from Mae Sot to Mae Saliang where I have just arrived. Absolutely stunning landscape, great little hill tribe villages to have a bite to eat in and "rustic" guesthouses, where in last nights case you sleep on a mat on the floor with the rest of the friends and family for 1 euro a night. This was not a problem in the slightest as it was run by a friendly Burmese guy who spoke great English and we went in to depth about the state of his native land and the likes, interesting stuff, even more so considering this was my first english coversation in two weeks, couple this with his great version of "Brown eyed Girl" on his out of tune guitar and you have got yourself a making for a good evening.
Today unfortunately I was unable to do the 90km from Mae Salit to here due to lack of places to refuel and the near vertical climbs that faced me, so I stuck out a thumb and hitched the remaining 35km in to town in the back of a pick up, I feel a little guilty but it was the right thing to do, my legs after the last few days could bring me no further.
So it is a well desrved Thai massage, couple of days rest and maybe if I am lucky a bit of English speaking company as this place seems quite touristy before I head off on the 200km to Chiang Mai.

Day 11,12 - 87km

The mountains around Mae Sot and the Burmese border are full of lush green forests, chrystal rivers that ebb and flow down through huge waterfalls, where one can raft and canyon and in the evening can watch the sun go down through perfect clear mountain visibility with a cool beer chiang one's hand. Unfortunately for me this is true for nine months of the year, the other three months of the year, the very aptly named hot season, the whole area is flash burned to promote growth for the coming year which means for me a visibility of about 500 metres and a constant stinging of the eyes, its like being back in Bangkok.
Yesterdays cycle could well of been the hardest in my life, 87km in 8 hours, not a great average speed! A few stats for you cycle buffs out there, my fastest speed yesterday was 64kmph and my average speed on steep climbs was a demoralising 7.8kmph, for 9km I clung on to the back of a truck who just about went faster then me at 9.2kmph on steep climbs, but being behind trucks fumes for that long finally got ther better of me so I let go to refuel, I regretted that 10 minutes later on the next climb. The day finished sweetly though as I arrived in my guesthouse to find a Thai family about to start eating who promptly invited me to join them, and what a feast to be had washed down by ice cool beer and a mix mash of broken english chatter and a lot of misunderstood laughter then to bed where I slept for 13 hours straight.
Today was decision time to stay on my proposed course and battle through the smoke and hope for a clearing or return to the plains and head to Chiang Mai the easy way, after humming and hawing over my map I decided to take it slow in the mountains as the other route is mainly highways. To celebrate this conclusion I went 10 km to the burmese boarder to maybe go there for the day and get another stamp on the old passport, but no such luck the "friendship bridge", which was not actually that friendly, was closed due to a Thai soldier getting shot on the boarder during the week, another time maybe.
So onwards and upwards to Mae Salit, where hopefully gale force winds are brewing to clear this wretched smoke away.

Day 8,9,10 - 198km

This was the best place yet to have my morning noodle soup, served by a toothless old guy who insisted on jabbering away to me in thai while I tried my best to put on an understanding face, with noodles dripping down my face(still have not mastered the chop stick)
This rest stop was two hours in to my biggest day yet of 128km from Nakwon Sawon to Huamhaen Phet, and lets just say I will be a happy man if that stays my longest day.
I decided a rest day was in order and luckily found a great guest house. The owner of which brought me out to the family farm in the national park yesterday evening. While an incredible electrical storm was going on around us we all ate and drank alot of beer and whiskey and once again the local toothless drunk took it upon himself to entertain me with some very funny jokes and anecdotes (I have on good authority) in Thai, it must be my smell that attracts them. Anyway it all added up to be my best night in Thailand to date, so if anyone out there finds themselves in Humphaen Phet stay in the Three J Guest House, there is my promised plug for Mr. Sharim.
This morning after waking up with a little bit of a groggy head I had a pleasant 70km cycle along backroads to Tak which gave me a little hint of what the next stage of my cycle is to entail..............mountains and lots of them. Any notions over the past week that I was suprisingly fit were dashed on my first 5 minute climb in Thailand and with a vertical ascent of over 1000 metres on the cards tomorow on the 80km road to Mae Sot I am a tad nervous but excited at the same time, after a week of cycling across mile upon mile of paddy fields I feel it is time for a change in scenery.

Day 5,6,7 - 234km

This is the beautiful sunrise I had to spur me on this morning at the start of my first hundred km day, 112 to be exact, and that was about the point that mister sun was at his kindest to me, from then on in he turned nasty, and when I arrived 7 hours later in Nakwon Sawon he had turned the temperature to 41 degrees the evil bastard, my forearms look, well, as red as the tip of my nose, who would of guessed 2 euro Thai factor thirty sun cream would not be the sun defending giant I might of hoped?

That is the end of my grumbling. The last four days I have spent slowly getting accustomed to life on the road again because after Australia it was going to be hard for example no more eating sirloin steak, with burlondaise sauce, garlic pomme puree and asparagus tips for lunch every day and then strolling back by the beach to sleep in my double bed in my huge room, yes siree Cogee treated me alright........anyway enough of that. Today was a great day to teach me again why I love to travel, and in particular why the choice of taking my bike was well informed because believe you me I have had my doubts of late.

Having not had a conversation in English(hence none at all) since leaving Bangkok 6 days ago it has not been easy, especially for a sociable fellow like myself, but thankfully I could not be in a friendlier country where people will always have a smile for you and help you with whatever they can, the food is great, the landscape beautiful the roads are in better condition then anywhere in the world I have been and I have had a southerly wind up my ass since I have started urging me towards Chiang Mai. I honestly believe that this is the best country in the world for me or for anyone to start cycle touring, apart from the fact that I do expect to have an imaginary friend by the end of the week if I dont get some interaction, and at 24 I am nearly sure that is not a good thing! Another hundred plus day to Kamphaeng Phet tomorow so wish me luck.

Day 3 - 76.8km

Though enjoyable I am very glad that day is over. Near 80 km in 40 degree heat and loads of humidity would test the strongest of men let alone a skinny pasty Irish guy who has not cycled over 40 km in about 10 months. 3 1/2 hours and 8 litres of water later I arrived in Lopuri only to realise that without travelling with my trusty Lonely Planet, I have not the faintest of ideas where to stay. Luckily with my 6 words of thai and some dodgy hand gestures I found my way to a pretty good, cheap hotel where I proceeded to sit under a cold shower for 15 minutes..........bliss. After lying naked under a fan and having a pretty good chicken's foot and some other random meat curry from the market I feel human again. Bed for me now and I look forward to the excruciating barse pain of tomorrow morning which I suppose I deserve after not wearing a shami today, oh well you live and you learn.

Day 2 - 29km

Though my technological skills are slowly increasing it has not yet mastered rotating pictures so please excuse the photo, if anyone knows how to do it please drop me a mail.
Today was spent going around all the different Wats in the surrounding area of Ayuttayah which were absolutely stunning as you can see.
The main joy of my day was the brilliance of my bike, though I liked it from day 1 today confirmed my hopes, it just needs the slightest bit of pressure to maintain a comfortable 20-25km an hour, long may it last. Unfortunately I am yet to find a suitable name for it so all suggestions welcome.
Tomorrow will be the first real test for it(and me) as I will be cycling about 70 km north to a town called Lopburi so wish me luck.

Day 1 - 15km

D

Hello to one and all, this handsome young man you see before you is me outside my guest house in Bangkok, hung over and very nervous about the next 18 months of my life, more pressing on my mind is how the hell I was going to negotiate the Bangkok traffic and go the 8km cross town to the Central station.

It was the first time that I had ridden my bike laden with the 20kg of my side backs which did not add to my self confidence, but after sweating my bodyweight in the 40 degree heat and getting some friendly encouragement from the only other cyclist I met on the road I made it in one piece.

I can hear you saying... I thought he was going to cycle the whole way and what a cheat, though I felt a bit of a coward to stumble at the first hurdle but seeing the Bangkok traffic and knowing I would have to brave the maze of streets to get out to my proposed first stop Ayuttayah, 60km north of central Bangkok, I went for the safe option.

Just a step back for those who do not know what my proposed plan is. I have decided to cycle from Bangkok to Dublin over the next 18 months, but as we have already seen I can not claim this so it will have to be Ayuttayah to Dublin, which does not have the same ring to it but there you go. My proposed route is through Thailand, Laos, China, Tibet, Nepal, India(where I will meet my friend Ciaran in Delhi in November), Pakistan, Iran, Turkey then through Europe. I will be hopefully posting some good stories and photos to keep people in touch on this website so feel free to send me encouraging cliches like "Come on Will" and "I believe you can do it". All for now.