In Thailand, it's unlucky to shave on a Thursday

This my friends, is the truth.  They take this stuff seriously out here.  Not only is it unlucky to shave on a Thursday, women should also never cut hair on a Wednesday.  That would be silly.  With Monday presenting a great opportunity to make your hair cut and, by extension, you charming, why would you cut it on a Wednesday?  These are some of the learnings we continue to acquire.

As Julia wrote, central Bangkok and the Khaosan Road were, in short, huge disappointments.  Kind of like a Torremolinos without the charm or cultural integrity and on a really small scale - Siem Reap takes it to the cleaners and .....well.....more on that later in our next post - let's start at the beginning.

Spending 12 days cycling through 3 South East Asian countries with a new group was always going to be an interesting experience.  Typically there's room for a couple of oddballs and we weren't too sure whether or not those two would be us.  Though we're all from different backgrounds and there's a fairly wide age range (from us to the older members), we've managed to get on well and share some laughs.

My 25 minutes in the gym in Bangkok and a short ride back home from Old Compton Street at 1am on a Boris Bike hardly count as training and Julia had only been there for the Boris Bike bit, so there we were, legs like new born foals' and pristinely un-worn-in asses ready for a relentless pounding over some serious mileage.  Our previous attempt at riding was 5 years ago in the Namibian Desert.....this ended in tears and a furious hatred for pedalling.

However this hatred of pedalling is now replaced by an understanding of HOW to pedal - which is, apparently, a critical element of being a good (and effective) cyclist.

The group on a break at a temple

Day 1 was a drive out to the first hotel and a short warm up of 20 kilometres.  Easy enough you say and you'd be right; nobody crashed and the guides got to know the team.  Our main guide, Nee (Thai) was backed up by Fila (Cambodian - not his real name either......but you'll forgive me not mangling what I am sure is a fine name).  We also had a cohort of bus drivers, mechanics and helpers, including a Mr. Black and his son Nud (pronounced Noot) - thighs like tree trunks and an annoyingly good humour.  He also knew a great spot (and moment) to procure a fine espresso on the morning of the 3rd day.......which was nice, given the varnish that's been masquerading as coffee across Thailand.

Hotels have been 3/4 stars (not 0.75, but 3 or 4) and most importantly clean and cockroach free (so far, touch wood, etc), which has been exceptional.  I really hadn't been looking forward to taking my Security role into the Rentokil Realms.

Speaking of Rentokil, night 1 saw Alex try a handful of crickets before dinner, the perfect appetiser!

Snacks on one of the breaks between legs

Day 2 and bang............what to say but ouch!  77km, 35 odd degrees and heavy rain combined to beat the holy crap out of the two berks I mentioned earlier who hadn't bothered to train for this trip.  Between the burning thighs, burning sun (in the afternoon) and burning ass.....there was a LOT of burning going on and frankly, this correspondent is looking forward to the day when his thighs don't feel like they've been pumped intravenously full of superglue. Nee's insistence on pushing on at an average of 25 km/h wasn't helped by our insistence on not backing down.  Not for us the middle or last packs of riders.  No, your dear travellers, competitive and bloody minded that they are, simply have to push themselves.

A "proudly caked in mud" Julia Saroian

So by the end of Day 2 let's just say we knew what it was to cycle........a long way and in testing conditions.

Quick pit-stop in the hotel overnight and back onto the road for Day 3; a 90km jaunt through searing heat and (frankly vicious) slopes that we wanted to call hills.  Of course now we know they are mere molehills; at the time, they seemed like mountains.

Lunch time pit-stop on Day 3

Where do you even begin?  90km is only about 56 or so miles.  I mean it just doesn't seem that far, until you realise it's only a wee bit shorter than the London - Brighton cycle.  Kind of puts things into perspective.  Julia was nailing Alex in the morning cycle.  She continued on in the afternoon.  Lunch had put a spoke in his wheels and frankly his "I am saving myself for the final push" sounded more like "I've s*d all left in the tank".

A beautiful rubber plantation

But then, as if by magic, a lovely Northern Irish guy named Colin told him to stop pedalling with his toes and to keep his heels down.  Then, like London buses, you've pedalled 180km and the advice starts flooding in!  From how high the saddle should be, to keeping your knees over the pedals at all times to pushing on the pedals not down, but forwards.  All this and more.  Part of me thought "you b*stards for keeping this from me!"  In reality, it's probably incumbent on me to turn up and know how to ride a bicycle.

We often stop at village temples to re-fuel

Anyhow, the net net of all this was the joy of cycling.  To be sure, the thighs still burned and the bum still screamed at every little bump in the road, but wow, my little
chicken legs weren't as weak as all that and I could go quite fast!  The final leg of the day was a joy and it seemed things might be looking up.  Unfortunately whilst all this was going on, Julia and I were also learning that photosensitivity didn't just mean that she would get sunburn easily.  It also meant that ANY sun would be painful - which it was.  By the end of the day the side-effects from her malaria tablets were exceptionally uncomfortable and she was in a fair bit of pain.

Waking up on Day 4 was a pain in general.  Puffy eyes, packing bags again, stumbling around on trembling legs and trying to remember why we signed up for this, we walked to our bikes.  Gone was the euphoria of the previous evening.  Now we had a new dread.  85km but with more slopes than the previous day.  Grrrrrr.  Julia opted for long sleeves to save her photosensitive skin and Alex promised to save her from herself if it looked like her pride was going to stop her from being sensible.

Nee our guide and leader

Today was a day of speed; a day of beginning to enjoy the trip for what it was, a cycling holiday.  With the ice broken amongst most of the group and the conversation steadily flowing, the morning flew past. We stopped briefly at a reservoir before lunch and had a quick dip before jumping back into the saddle and heading to a bird sanctuary to have some lunch and look at some pretty amazing and weird hornbills.

Whiteys in the Water

As midday approached, Julia opted to jump into the bus to avoid the midday sun (very clever, it was roasting) and even put in a sexy stint as the sign holder.  Our buses would drive ahead and one of the helpers would hold a sign up with the direction to take at a junction.  Julia did this with the style and panache one would expect, putting a smile on our faces.  Which was necessary, because on this leg we did some pretty hard cycling, moving along at a ridiculous clip.  About 8 of us in a tight peleton enjoying the feeling of speed and power on the roads.

A beautiful hornbill

Julia rejoined the pack in the afternoon and then for the second last leg we did some pretty unthinkable cycling, averaging about 35km/h over a constant 10km uphill gradient, most of it into the wind.  Everyone in the peleton was beaming from ear to ear until about 9km in, when Alex and Becky slowed up with knee pains.  We'd been suffering for a while and it really hit now.  Praise be though; Julia slowed down and joined us and the 3 of us made a respectable stab at catching the group again, helping each other by taking it in turns to ride up front and be the wind break needed for the other two.

We re-grouped and then made our way to the hotel for what was to be our last night in Thailand.  We had cycled 262km in 3 and a half days and had experienced some amazing sensations.  Next stop, Siem Reap and Angkor Wot in Cambodia.

We pass such happy children along the way