Kate's Cycling Curiosity

True to form I did no research before entering Burma with my main objective being to extend my Thai visa there. Once again Crinion punctuality reached an all time high arriving at the border 15 mins before it closed and if it wasn’t for the half hour time difference between the two countries I would have missed it and been greeted with hostile stares and a 500 Baht fine the next day. On crossing the border I got a 14 day “Permit” for Burma under the condition that they held my passport (none too pleased about that) and I had to exit the country from the same point of entry. After intense scrutinisation of my dog-eared passport which now possesses more stamps than a Manchester tattoo artist, I was issued my temporary permit. Now I had to face the issue of getting the compulsory guide to escort me to Kengtung the furthest point I could go in Burma. I decided to sleep on it and try and fish some information from the hotel owner Mohamid, whose English was unfortunately at Junior Certificate foreign language standard….ordinary level. If I understood Mohamid correctly he reckoned I could bribe my way to get a permit and away with me. He also reckoned the best form of currency here was cigarettes and a bottle or two of “Blend 365”, the local scotch. I was more than happy to bring the cigarettes but the bottles of scotch are exactly the lightest choice for a cycling tourer.

Nicknamed the long eared Hilltribe.

After much hemming and hawing I deduced I had nothing to lose and after a very spicy breakfast of noodles and presumably chilli gunpowder I found myself bartering for bootleg cigarettes and duty-free scotch. Border towns certainly are the most economical places to buy bribes. I also bought a few Burmese cigars “cheroots” for good measure. They reminded me of “Beedi” the poor mans cigarette in India. Its tobacco wrapped in a leaf with bamboo as a filter but far more substantial in size in comparison to the meagre Beedi.

Paddy field workers dotted the landscape...but not as colourful as the Indians who reminded me of a packet of smarties scattered in the grass.

Having never given a bribe before, unless you count “backsheesh” the involuntary bribe in India, I had no idea how to go about the operation. So with as much tact as a ball peen hammer I headed off to the sole tourist office to try my luck. The major hindrance in the watertight plan was that the officer couldn’t understand my discreet mumbling reference to the goods I was offering. “I BELIEVE THESE ARE YOURS OFFICER” …” I THINK THESE BELONG TO YOU OFFICER”. (goods neatly wrapped in a classy 7/11 plastic bag) and eventually “ME PERMIT…YOU ALCOHOL AND CIGARETTES, YES?” . Well it must have been a slow day in the office for after doing a feeble attempt at pretending to twist his arm, he was well underway with the paperwork. My only obligation was to report to the police every evening….which I didn’t think was a particularly hard task as they were more common than rabid dogs on the streets.

The next two days involved a serious amount of leg crunching and red earth chewing. My face constantly looked like I had used blusher instead of foundation which left the local in hysterics and certainly were not shy about showing their true feelings by means of a good point, stare and laugh. On the first night I was eager to meet some of the hill tribes so at every village I stopped I produced my postcards I had bought of the local hill tribes in the hope that they would point me in the right direction….naturally UP as the name “hilltribe” suggests. At some points the dusty earth got too much for the heavy laden bike as the sand engulfed my wheels and had me flopping to the ground, entangled in my chain in an altogether very ungraceful manner. At this point I should also mention that the only map I possessed was a photo on my camera of my computer screen with a lonely planet rough sketch/map of North Eastern Burma.

From this beautiful flower comes heroin!

Afternoon siesta of opium.

What could potentially have been a very disastrous (and perhaps dangerous) adventure turned out rather well at the beginning. I was very chuffed with myself as I went only 5km off the main road and spotted a village at around 4pm. I was hoping it was a tribal village where I could negotiate putting up my tent or at least sling my hammock on some family’s porch. Apart from one child who turned on her heels screaming when she saw me (think she never saw a white person before) the entire community adopted me like I was one of their own. I felt so at ease with them it was like being back in the nomads tents in Tibet. No language apart from body language was used and we spent a most enjoyable evening around the fire scoffing noodles and drinking an unholy amount of the local brew. My only complaint was the stream of children looking to get a poke at me and used me as the village climbing frame…a small price to pay really. The accommodation that night came in the form of a multipurpose room where tucked away mats and pillows were produced and three generation plus my good self slept together that night. As they produced their humble bamboo mats I whipped out my thermarest self inflating mattress and -7 deg down sleeping bag and eye mask. Any previous attempts at blending in were now redundant!

High street Kengtung.

The following day was a treasure hunt attempting to find tribal villages. I met 2 police checkpoints, the first was so excited at seeing me that routine checks seemed of little importance. The next checkpoint officer was less amused and gave me the once over. To edge him more towards letting me go I suggested a drink and produced my “blend 365” which to be honest I was only too delighted to get rid of the weight and an instant friendship was made! After a few pretend swigs of the scotch, with most of it being poured under the table, I was happily on my way and the officer was certainly merry as he had already downed half the litre bottle.

Some may appreciate the Irish climate more than others.

That night I found a local guest house but was refused entry as it was not a government licensed hotel which can allow tourists. I reported to the local police and after much huffing and puffing they said it was too dangerous for a foreigner in these parts….Burma cycle over! I told them I really wanted to travel to Kengtung and couldn’t understand why I couldn’t as I had a permit. Time to produce the remaining Cigars and cigarettes.So after much to do I was to be given a Police escort to kengtung tomorrow and an officer was ordered to stand guard outside my guesthouse door all night long….which he didn’t. Nonetheless it was an extremely generous and hospitable gesture by all involved when it was clear I was the one totally in the wrong!

It was a short trip in Burma and I was forced to take the bus back to the border which I was seriously disgruntled about as it was practically all downhill! Sadly I had no scotch or cigarettes left to strengthen my bargaining power. It depends on your definition of success whether this was as a successful journey or not. If given the choice I would do it again in a flash as the time spent with the tribal people was some of my most unique and rewarding experiences to date. In total I visited Akha, Eng, Wa, Shan and Palaung tribes with each tribe being either Buddhist, Catholic, Baptist or animist. It is precisely for unique experiences like this that keep my wheel turning. I’ll let the pictures do the talking. If anyone is consider cycling in Burma I would say do so without hesitate….but get a permit before you go!

A little side note on Burma or Myanmar?

Burma, or Myanmar as it has been renamed by the military dictatorship, derives its name from the Burmese word Bamar, which is pronounced 'Bama', and became 'Burma' in the colonial days. However in old Burmese it is pronounced Mranma or Myanmah, thus giving rise to Myanmar. The renaming remains the subject of debate, where the UN refers to 'Myanmar', the US, UK and France still refer to 'Burma'…confusing!

Akha Tribes Woman. The women chew Beetle Nut like the "pan" in India as they believe their black teeth are more attractive to the male tribes...each to their own I guess. At first it appears like they are toothless but actually its just dye.

The follow day’s route brought me through almost pancake flat terrain, negotiating paddy fields and dead snakes on the road. The only dogs on the road were of the flat variety which is one less hazard for the cyclist but a constant reminder that if I don’t pay attention I may be joining them! It was a real pleasure to pass the locals as they were always ready with a smile and a few words of encouragement…well at least I think that’s what they were saying! I always got the impression that the Thais live in the now. You saw them drinking together as soon as work ended perhaps spending half of their day’s salary on one beer alone. This mentality was a refreshing change from India where I was only able to speak to the educated as they were naturally the only people to speak English. They were so concerned about my social status, professional career and matrimonial prospects that the bicycle didn’t quite fit into the plan and the conversation often turned into me defending my expedition and a debate on my sanity. That said they probably had sufficient grounds for the latter question.The Thais however were far more relaxed and thoroughly enjoyed the sight of a “farang” on a heavily laden bike and could only wish me well!

Ayuthaya Temple gods.

Classical Sukothai image.

Sukothai was the next city of importance on my trip and ideal timing for a rest day as I had pedalled for 5 consecutive days. It was Thailand's first capital, 'Rising of Happiness' and was the seat of power during the 13th and 14th centuries. I was also interested to discover the most “classic” style of Thai architecture as it was built during the golden age of Thai civilization. The giant Buddha statues that are plastered on every tourist brochure hail from Sukhothai so I thought it was high time I saw a real one. The ruins themselves were 12km outside the city so the following day after another miss at the food stall for breakfast…..I’m really due a hit soon, I headed towards the ruins whizzing past tourists on one gear clunker rental bikes.

Sukothai Temple

On leaving Sukothai I knew mountains awaited me but uncharacteristically I was craving some mountainous terrain. Perhaps I am turning into a real cyclist! I have discovered it’s actually harder, albeit more mentally than physically to keep going on flat terrain as your legs never get the pleasure of a downhill freewheel and to be blunt flat terrain often comes with monotonous landscapes. I was soon to eat my words as the leg crunching commenced but looking back on it, it was worth it with seductive landscape beckoning you further. In the midday sun however they were as appealing as a sauna at which point I took refuge in a roadside tea shop or failing that any form or shade!

Unlike India (sorry for always comparing the two countries but India is hard to shake off) food is not always available every 5 or 10km so I usually take some snacks and provisions just in case. One day without having seen a café for 30km I was glad I had brought my banana leaf parcels. To date they were always filled with sticky rice and barbequed banana which complement each other quite nicely. This time however I was not so lucky as I had purchased 2 parcels of raw bacon fat which after close inspection contained remnants of raw bacon. As I sat dejected looking at my 2 parcels I almost ate them. Why the shopkeeper who was full of smiles at the time of purchase, thought I would enjoy two parcels of raw fat was beyond me. That said the Thais do often eat raw pork and bacon and I have since learnt from ex-pats that most foreigners living here are on worm tablets….comforting thought!

Long neck Karen tribe.

It was with a great sense of achievement that I reached Chiang Mai. I stopped short of the city in a roadside café to replenish my energy levels before I took on the task of searching for a room. The café owner spoke great English as she was married to a Sweede and proceeded to use me as her psychologist as she relayed the sorry tales from her life. She married a Sweede young for money and used him as an escape route from the country life where her mother was a prostitute and her father struggled to pay the bills as an honest road worker. Her watertight plan somehow got foiled when her Sweedish husband asked her to live in Sweeden with her. She tried it for6 months, got homesick “It’s f*&king cold there” an example where research pays off and indeed “it’s not as hot as Spain and other parts of Europe you know”. Being married to a Thai means that the women get 70% of what the husband owned so in the end marriage was a shrewd investment on her part. She then bought a massage parlor in Bangkok which pretty much runs itself leaving her free to be a lady of leisure. I was then introduced to her niece a 22 year old girl who also had very impressive English which she has learned entirely from MTV. Sadly the school of Cable Television does have it’s drawbacks when it comes to a more philosophical conversation but everything is nonetheless “awesome” “wicked” or some times it “blows”. She is also hanging on the tailcoat of her “successful” aunt and is in search of a “farang” white husband. Her flight is booked to Bangkok for next week and I wish her every success!

Chiang Mai is the Bangkok of the north but on a much smaller and laid back scale. It is also a launching pad to the mountains with its main tourist attraction being hiking in the nearby mountains. It was only 3pm when I wheeled into the city but already the hotels and guesthouses were booked out. It seems people take refuge here from the likes of Bangkok yet its not so rural that it doesn’t come with all the tourist luxuries. Fruit shakes and massage parlors are available on ever corner with Pizza restaurants and western style toilets being just as common. The result being that people stay here far longer than intended and accommodation is often booked out. I ended up in my first dormitory since Tibet but really enjoyed the fresh injection of enthusiasm. There was a fellow Irish economic refugee who was going to try her hand at meditation in a monks monastery for a month. A Brazilian banker who cracked, quit his job and has been traveling aimlessly for 2 years….he’s still cracked and more confused than ever. A Dutch alcoholic who had a different schedule to the rest of us using the room as a rehabilitation clinic by day in preparation for yet another night in the town. Friendly chap none the less. Lastly there was an English girl who was doing the “guilt free holiday” as I call it. Paying $3000 to volunteer for 2 weeks in an orphanage in the mountains. “but like it’s good value because I have like air-con and cable tv”….while the orphans live 90 to a room sleeping on bamboo mats.

Whilst in Chaing Mai I realized I was never going to make it to the Burmese border on time and it’s no fun cycling with a deadline on the back of your mind. I decided to head off trekking and whitewater rafting in the mountains for three days instead and then take the bus close to the border. My conscience was clear however as I would be backtracking from the border to Chaing Rai to meet up with an old friend from my English teaching days in Poland.

Guess who wasn't pulling her weight on the raft!

The next three days were pure bliss visiting and staying with hilltribes in the mountains where the usual pedestrian traffic on the streets were replaced by roaming pigs. The treks were interrupted by swimming in waterfalls , white water rafting, elephant riding and dining in local villages on the way. (The best food I’ve had so far in Thialand)There are 7 main tribes in the north of Thialand and on this trip I visited just two. The majority of these tribes are refugees from China and Burma who are highly discriminated by the Thai’s. On the face of it they seem quite happy enjoying a sustainable life in the mountains with the children happily running around playing. The reality however is something different as they are not there by choice. Having been forced to migrate their culture is diluted, they are relying heavily on tourism for income, incest is not uncommon and opium and other narcotics are even more uncommon. Illegal opium growing is definitely on the downturn thanks to initiatives by the much loved king however the draw of this cash crop is too much for many to resist. Children are often sold off to other tribes and some flea to the cities to work as underage prostitutes. It’s not all doom and gloom however and many of the smaller communities have a very intact culture and enjoy a reasonably high quality of life however. I couldn’t help comparing them to the Tibetan nomads and the Roma gypsies in Europe, each of which I find fascinating the more one understands about their culture. I certainly hope to learn more about these hill tribes in Burma and Laos as they have been the most interesting aspect of my journey in Thialand to date.

Local men of the tribal village.

Welcome to the land of smiles!

After landing in Bangkok I deposited my bike at a friends apartment so while it enjoyed a 10^th floor view from a balcony in Bangkok, I enjoyed the views on the western Islands of Thialand. I had already arranged to meet my friend Mirjam there and the timing after India could not have better. At first it took some getting used to. Firstly I hadn’t seen such an array of foreigners in a long time and secondly I hadn’t seen as much skin throughout my entire time in India. Gone were the days of modest trousers and long sleeve shirts and in were the mini skirts and bikinis! The islands also provided me with an opportunity to improve my rusty English which had suffered badly since I started in Tibet. This is apparently a cycling journey so I won’t go into details on my “Holiday from a holiday” as a jealous Swiss architect I met called it. Suffice to say however the sojourn in the islands was nothing short of paradise.

Off the bike and into the water Ko Lipe.

They BBQ everything here..even eggs. BBQ banana is always a winner. They will literally put anything into a bananna leaf and cook it, it's a case of hit and miss.

After the Islands it was back to Bangkok to collect my bike and access the damage from the flight. The quick release on the rear tyre got quite a bash and needed replacing but otherwise it was in good order. Bangkok really eats into your time, the most remedial task takes time as travelling through the city is agonizingly slow. I also took the opportunity to get my top-up vaccinations as I hadn’t time to finish the entire course in Ireland. Due to the amount of stray flea ridden dogs that roam the street the rabies booster was top of my list. I found a local clinic that spoke English and had vaccinations. It was a strange experience as the doctor tried to flog other unnecessary vaccinations for South East Asia on me, it was like a vaccination market! To increase my scepticism about the clinics professionalism they looked bewildered when I produced my vaccination record book. Obviously a dodgy choice of clinic but I hadn’t the patience to schlep myself across the city in search of an alternative! The entire process took 3 minutes as I was escorted straight into the doctors room bypassing the miffed patients who waited in line. Presumably I was paying “farang” foreigner price for this VIP service. Other housekeeping was my search for pepperspray which was impossible to find in India so I was advised to go to chantauk market the biggest in Asia. There I had the choice of knuckle dusters, tasers, pellet guns and a fine array of pepper spray. In the end I settled on pepper spray and a taser for good measure.

Python on the road 60km north of Bangkok. I'm not sure the dramatic angle was necessary as it was a scary enough site from a distance!

Since entering Thialand my daily schedule has had a serious overhaul. The daily slumbers till 8am are now blissful memories of the past as I attempt to beat the main heat of the day. Thankfully to compensate for these early starts I have managed to buy gas for my stove and a fresh brew of caffeine awaits me every morning! India was just as hot however and I’m beginning to think I was running on fear alone in India, using speed as my weapon against the unwanted attention.

mmm...tasty snacks!

It felt great to be back on the road after 2 weeks off the bike. People talk of the crazy Bangkok traffic and fumes but in comparison to the likes of Kolkatta or Delhi it was like a retirement village as I confidently nipped in and out of the early morning traffic. However the hierarchy of vehicles on the road was the same as India leaving bicycles and dogs scrambling for their lives.

A brief 80km brought me to Ayuthaya the former capital of Thialand. The sacred and now sacked city shows glimpses of the former capitals richness through its dotted ruins around the city. Once again the bike came into a world of its own as it let me cruise to all the ruins with the ease of a local. The peace of Ayuthaya was a welcomed change from Bangkok and in the same spirit I treated myself to a 2 hour massage that evening. The hat trick of cycling, touring ruins and a long massage had me on conscious in my bed by 9.30pm! Bangkok served as a good place to learn about how to pick a respectable massage parlour. Thialands main income comes from the sex industry and is closely followed by tourism. Sadly there is definitely a correlation but the Thai men are certainly no saints. Massage parlours with open view beds are a safe bet and insure no hokey pokey is going on inside. Parlours with draw curtains and private rooms upstairs normally offer more than a massage! The sad fact is that the masseuses don’t actually get paid a salary and normally receive as little as 30% of the price of the massage. To ensure a liveable income the ladies complement the massage with services I’m not going to go into but suffice to say their services cost a lot more than a massage.

Country National B roads...but quite often little more than dirt tracks!

Cut me some slack....one of many confusing signposts!And yes, I did take the wrong road!