We cycled across the border into the small town of Chong Mek and, somewhat fittingly, immediately settled down to eat a delicious Pad Thai. Over the last few months, Thailand had come to represent something of a promised land for us: a place where everything – finding food, finding places to sleep, the road quality, the gradient of the hills, even the heat of the sun – would be easier. These dreams were inevitably somewhat unrealistic and our Edenesque construct began to crumble as soon as we cycled out of Chong Mek, grinding our way up an intense gradient under the glare of the burning sun, while being plagued by tiny biting black flies. As the day went on, our joyous image of cycle touring in Thailand collapsed completely: at every turn, vicious dogs appeared to bark and snarl at us; we spent hours searching desperately for an ATM in order to buy food and water; then, parched and starving, Harriet almost got run over when she forgot that the traffic was now back on the left side of the road. In consequence, our first day ended with tears and a bowl of offal by the side of the road, although we did find a sweet, lakeside guesthouse with a single English TV channel so all was not lost!
It was, however, beginning to become clear that after 15 months of cycling, we were both deeply tired: while our bodies were holding up well, our minds were in need of a rest from the daily pressures of cycle touring.
The next day offered a perfect microcosm of the highs and lows we had experienced since we had left Brighton. The landscape was breath-taking as we followed an enormous reservoir through lush fields, but this was accompanied by an intense, overwhelming heat which forced us to stop every 15 minutes or so in patches of shade to try to lower our heart rates.
By 11, we were utterly frazzled and spaced out, smeared in suntan lotion and dripping with sweat. Spotting a roadside restaurant, we braked swiftly and, almost collapsing with the heat, madly croaked the word ‘Pepsi’ at the bemused restaurant owner. This kind woman immediately took charge and ordered Harriet into the bathroom to cleanse herself before disappearing on her moped and returning with an enormous bottle of coke which she then refused payment for. Overwhelmed by this act of kindness, we gratefully glugged it down before setting off again, now weighed down by the many bottles of free water that had been pressed upon us. An hour later and we were checked into the Outside Inn, a gorgeous guesthouse in the city of Ubon Ratchathani, run by a lovely Thai-American couple, whose shady garden was a little oasis from the baking sun.
The next evening we said goodbye to our bikes, and headed by train to Bangkok to get married! The night train was a wonderful experience after the last few days: spacious, relaxing, and cool, it whizzed us through beautiful flooded fields before arriving into the city. A run in with two of the dodgiest luggage holders we have ever met, replete with gangland tattoos and demands for bribes, left us a little nonplussed, and rather than risk leaving our laptops with them we opted to lug all our luggage to the British Embassy. Luckily the staff took this in their stride and, a few minutes and rather a lot of Thai Baht later, we left with an official document stating that we were legally allowed to get married.
Getting married in Thailand as a foreigner mainly involves acquiring lots of these type of documents and getting them all translated and certified at the rather Orwellian sounding Ministry of Foreign Affairs. After several hours, we managed to deposit our documents to be verified and headed off to our Airbnb flat. As always, our hosts Suparp and Tsurumi were wonderful, inviting us for dinner and toasting our impending marriage with a delicious bottle of French cider and Japanese sweet potato spirit! Over the next few days, Suparp was unbelievably helpful, phoning various officials, driving us to the MFA and back, and generally standing his ground whenever we seemed to hit a dead end.
On Friday May 26th, we finally had all our documents and set out for the local Amphur (district office) where our marriage would hopefully take place. At this stage, however, we still had no idea if it would go ahead or not, as all the officials Suparp had spoken to had been remarkably ambiguous as to whether they would marry two foreigners. It turns out not knowing if you are actually going to get married is the perfect cure for pre-wedding nerves. The whole experience was wonderfully surreal – in an entirely green room, surrounded by Thais registering for driving licences and other official things, we filled in forms with Suparp’s help. After providing a couple of envelopes of money to ‘help’ our cause, we signed something we couldn’t read and then, with an increasing sense of surprise, realised that we were probably now husband and wife!
In a happy haze we went for a lovely Thai lunch with Suparp and Tsurumi and then headed to our ‘honeymoon suite’ (another Airbnb but with a swimming pool) in central Bangkok.
Thanks to the generosity of our families, who were possibly slightly surprised when we phoned them and announced we had just got married, we then spent a glorious evening feasting and drinking in Bangkok’s rooftop bars and restaurants.
Another trip to the MFA to get our marriage certificate translated into English so we could finally read it, and we were back on the night train to Ubon. On our return, we found our lovely hosts at the Outside Inn had given us an upgraded room, in which they had placed flowers and a card. The next night, one of the other restaurant guests, who we had only spoken to very briefly, shocked us with his kindness when, unbeknown to us, he paid for our entire meal as a honeymoon gift.
The next morning we were back on our bikes again to continue our journey in the province of Isan. The cycling was fairly uninspiring as we followed the main road, hugging the hard shoulder and taking shelter from the midday sun in the wonderful oasis of the PTT petrol stations, where we ate 711 ready meals and drank iced cappuccinos in Amazon coffee shops. Harriet developed a particular love for the Café Amazons, seeing them as her saviours in the wilderness, and would do a happy little shoulder dance each time she spied one. We stayed in small towns over the next few days, sampling delicious Thai food (on one occasion unwittingly ordering a rather traditional Isan meal of snails and preserved eggs) and collapsing exhausted into bed after 100km plus days. We then arrived in the city of Buriram, where we spent Jonathan’s birthday in a Great Western hotel (a treat from his Dad and sister), predominately spending our time floating in the pool and gorging ourselves on the enormous breakfast buffet.
The next stop was Phnom Rung historical park where we spent a day visiting the stunning Khmer ruins. These were rather unfortunately, if dramatically, located several hundred metres above us on top of an extinct volcano and even on unloaded bikes the punishing gradient tested us to our limits. But we were rewarded by beautiful views and an incredible array of temple complexes in varying states of collapse.
The next day we woke to the news of the surprising exit poll for the UK election, and our excitement about the possible collapse of the Conservation majority proved to be wonderful motivation tool. As we cycled down small backroads, through sweet little villages and passed flooded rice paddies, we would count the kilometres, and once we had completed another ten, one of us would eagerly grab the phone to discover how many more seats had turned from blue to red.
The day whizzed by in this manner, and before we knew it our legs were as weak and wobbly as Theresa May and it was time to look for somewhere to stop for the night.
Before arriving in Thailand, we had read that if ever we were to fail to find a guesthouse or camping spot, we could count on one of the country’s numerous Buddhist Wats to take us in for the night. We were both rather excited about trying this and, as our backroad cycling increased, we passed fewer guesthouses and decided that it was time to chance our luck with the Buddhist monks. As the afternoon progressed, we located a likely candidate on our map, and set off up a very steep hill, just as a thunderstorm began to rumble in the distance. As we climbed, the road became increasingly jungly, with hairy caterpillars everywhere and dense undergrowth on both sides. Arriving at the point where we thought the Wat should be, we were somewhat perturbed to see only a muddy track leading uphill into the jungle rather than the glittering golden temple we had imagined. As the sun was beginning to drop, we had no choice but to push our bikes into the trees and hope for the best.
We were somewhat surprised when we emerged into an idyllic clearing where numerous Buddha statues looked out serenely from a meditation hall, and simple wooden huts strewn with the orange robes of the clergy spilled out from the forest. It felt like we had stumbled upon a much older, more basic way of life than that contained in the bright, golden wats we regularly cycled past. However, there were no monks to be seen, and we were instead met by 6 barking dogs who quickly became more interested in the new, interesting array of smells that accompanied us than their guarding duties. After wandering around for a while slightly unsure about what to do, we became aware of the sound of a tinny radio coming from one of the wooden huts. Peering in, we were greeted by the sight of an elderly monk who smiled delightedly when he saw us, and emerged to offer us a mug of steaming brown liquid from a boiling cauldron.
Through hand actions and the occasional English word we gathered that he lived here alone, occasionally overseeing meditation courses but otherwise spending his days in solitude in this magical place with no electricity and just his dogs for company.
We indicated through gestures that we would like to stay the night, and were shown to a meditation hall replete with the intact skeleton of our new friend’s predecessor, a Buddha image carved into the rock wall and three dogs who were delighted by our company (and the bread in our bag which they repeatedly tried to snaffle). One, we gathered from newspaper clippings, had once been a ‘cinema dog’, gifted to our monk by a grateful friend, and now seeing out his retirement in the jungle. We settled down for the night as the rain began to fall and the thunder rumbled overhead, and felt immensely privileged to have stumbled upon this unique spot.
The next day we breakfasted with our host (more steaming brown liquid) who showed us photos and magazine cuttings about his life, and delightedly posed for photos, insisting on trying various locations and poses which would show him to his best advantage.
Finally, as the heat began to increase, we continued our climb up through the jungle accompanied by the monk’s dogs.
Several hours later, and after a couple of stops to hide from the sun, we arrived at the entrance to the Khao Yai National Park – a magical place only a few hours from Bangkok, but full of wild elephants and all manner of other exciting creatures. Our introduction to the park was quite severe: after passing through the large entrance gate, we immediately started a brutal 20km climb consisting of multiple 20% plus gradients. But on arrival in our campsite our exhaustion was replaced with childish excitement as we saw monkeys, deer, and a cornucopia of birds.
Settling down beside the river to cook our dinner, we were somewhat taken aback when a fully grown male deer snuck up behind us and tried to steal our crisps and, when thwarted, tried to ram us with his antlers.
The next morning, over breakfast, we saw another couple battling the local wildlife. They did not fare so well, and the beautiful grapefruit-like fruit that they had been saving for breakfast was snatched with glee by a large monkey, who then preceded to enrage the couple by gloating with his prize in full view.
Our day off was spent exploring the park, looking for elephants (none) and hornbills (one), and taking a somewhat challenging jungle walk surrounded by enormous spiders, poisonous caterpillars and other insects of extraordinary size and shape.
Jonathan was in his element; Harriet was slightly less enthusiastic. We finished the day swimming in a river pool above a waterfall, and then wandering slowly back to our campsite to do battle with the deer once more.
The next morning we had an absolutely glorious downhill cycle through the park. At every turn we half expected to see an elephant lumbering into our view, but even in the absence of this, we were enthralled by the cacophony of bird and insect noises coming out of the jungle.
The endorphin rush of the descent was increased by a particular, and unexpected, jungle obstacle course: hundreds of hairy poisonous caterpillars which chose to suspend themselves at various heights from the tree canopy, waiting in the middle of the road to smack into the face of an unwitting cyclist.
Bizarre hand gestures, cries of ‘dangler ahead’ and somewhat terrifying last-minute swerves to avoid these creatures punctuated our descent. Leaving the park, we cycled through little villages and past colourful wats, and were again blasted by the heat of the lower altitudes, forcing us to take shelter in a roadside restaurant. Here we ate more Pad Thai and Jonathan was in turn eaten by red ants. We were slowly discovering that the wildlife in Thailand is somewhat less benign than in the UK!
Our next stop was the ancient Siam capital of Ayutthaya. Located not far from Bangkok, the city was incredibly congested, and our approach involved several hair-raising 8 lane roads, roundabouts which more than rivalled Elephant and Castle, and multiple mad dashes onto slip lanes in the face of endless traffic. We arrived with our nerves on edge, but the beauty of the temples soothed us, as did the incredibly cheap mussels and cockles which we discovered in the night market.
We also had another run in with Thai bureaucracy when we went to extend our visas, a process which seemed to require almost as much paperwork and hanging around as our marriage.
The following day, we got up at 4.30 to set off before the heat began. Over the next 5 days this became our schedule: an early rise and intense cycle until 10am when the heat and UV became unbearable. Initially we sat out the sun in petrol stations, and then cycled another 20km or so in the late afternoon. However, we soon realised how pointless our afternoons of sweaty, inactivity were, crouching outside 711s in the heat, and so made it our plan to reach a guesthouse before the sun reached its crescendo. We then spent lazy afternoons writing, sleeping and generally recovering from our 60-70km morning dashes! Unsurprisingly we were much happier. Circling Bangkok, we sought out small roads that wended their way through palm plantations and alongside small canals which flowed out into the Gulf of Thailand.
A highlight was Amphawa, a canalside village with a bustling floating market where we feasted on more seafood, and took a night time firefly spotting boat trip. Half way through a tropical storm hit, which was invigorating and frightening in equal measure!
One more day of cycling brought us to Petchaburi, a sweet town full of gorgeous white wats and historical ruins.
Only 15km from the sea, this was our last stop before we finally hit the coast!
The next morning we set off bright and early, and got our first view of the Gulf of Thailand as the sun rose above a little fishing port.
Our route proved a little more dangerous than we had anticipated when a troupe of monkeys spotted the plastic bags on top of our panniers and began to move at lightning speed towards us, but some hasty peddling and angry shouting saw them off on this occasion. By 8am we had reached a small beach and took a tentative dip in the somewhat murky waters (this part of the gulf is not renowned as a beach destination), which came to an abrupt end when a jellyfish was spotted in the waters (Harriet is a bit phobic), and we cycled on.
This slight anti-climax was the last straw for Harriet, and the mental exhaustion of the last few weeks really came to a head: as a we cycled down the highway in the increasing heat, she began to weep and didn’t stop. When we finally reached Hua Hin, we knew it was time for a long stop and booked into a hotel for 5 nights. Surrounded by Norwegian tourists, with a Tesco Lotus down the road, we began to relax and realised that, after this long on the road, maybe it was time for a bit of a holiday before the last few wiggles of this particular worldwidewobble.
